Message 11: Can't Be Alone [Private to Ziva; Audio]

[unrecovered]

[There's a long silence and a sigh before he begins. He really should've written down what he wanted to say; it's too late for that now.]

Ziva, we- we should talk. I-

[There's a moment as he realizes just how bad that sounds.] -shit, no, not like that. Not-

Look, York's- he woke up, and I-

[There's another long pause, and then a sigh.] You know what? Forget it. [The message cuts off abruptly.]

Comments

[unrecovered]

[His eyes snapped open when he heard the lock rattle. That wasn't a key- that was the sound of someone picking a lock- it couldn't be-

And then he caught sight of Fluffy outside the window. He winced hard, trying to bite back the jumble of emotions that the sudden reappearance of hope and the even more sudden destruction of said hope had created. It was Ziva at the door, not York. He was an idiot to hope, even for those few seconds.

He's still trying his hardest to calm himself down when the sheets rustle and a warm body scoots in next to him. They fit together too well for him to make any mistake. He makes a quiet, strangled noise into the pillow. Nope - still not helping. After a long silence, he shifted just enough to lay his hand over hers. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet.]

I thought you were him.

[4letters4ninja]

Sorry.

[And she was too. Thinking about it, she could figure out why he did...considering York had been the lock expert, from what she had put together. She moves her hand just enough to be holding his, before speaking again.]

I know this does not help, but if I could bring him back, I would.

[unrecovered]

Not your fault.

[It wasn't, really. Blaming her wouldn't calm him down any; then again, right now, very little would. He squeezes her hand, just a little bit.]

I know.

[Just about anyone here would, not that it makes a difference.]

[4letters4ninja]

[She knows, it just seems to be the right thing to say. She can't come up with anything else to say, so she curls up closer and rests her forehead against his chest. Ducky curls up behind her knees, peering over her legs at Wash for a moment. He doesn't like when any of the people around his person are sad.]

[unrecovered]

[She can probably hear his breathing, measured and even - forcibly so. It was about the only thing he'd allow himself to focus on right now. He was trying not to think about York - after all, he knew exactly where - or when - York had fallen asleep. He'd wake up, and then he'd die.]

[Wash was grieving again. He hadn't thought it possible, but here he was, doing just that - or rather, refusing to do it. He couldn't. It would dig up too much that he was trying to keep buried. He'd just have to bury that grief again, once he remembered how.]

[It was too easy to find comfort here. Ziva was next to him, North was down the hall, and his Spirits always wanted to cuddle regardless of his mood. He could always lean on them. Then again, he'd leaned on York too, and look where that had gotten him - prone, and trying to re-learn how to cope.]

[Damn it, he was so sick of this.]

[And then he caught sight of Ducky.]

[It was the flower with the face that did him in - namely the sympathy on that face. Even the flower wanted him to feel better- the flower that he'd gotten her.]

[Something inside him crumbled. He couldn't do it anymore - couldn't keep pushing people away. Couldn't keep burying things. What was the point in being miserable alone now when he knew he'd just be miserable alone later, after he woke up and they weren't there anymore? Might as well do what he could now - maybe then, later, he'd still be intact after everything was over.]

[Though he was going to fucking break if he woke up alone in the bed tomorrow. Again. He couldn't do that again. Not so soon.]

[But it was a risk he was going to take. He let go of Ziva's hand and wrapped his arm around her instead, holding her tightly, burying his face in her hair.]