touching mine, but she doesn’t say anything.
We sit in a silence that becomes comfortable. It doesn’t start there, but as the moments slip past, the soft tension and pressure that carries itself in me eases until at last we’re here. Nothing more than being in the same space, one with another. I’m so comfortable, so emotionally and mentally exhausted, that my eyes drift shut.
My head nods forward, and then I jerk awake, heart pounding. Did I really fall asleep?
Self-beratement and anger flashes across my thoughts, but Ziva rubs her hand across my back and shoulders, remaining silent. She, of all people, isn’t judging me. As that hits me I’m overfilled with gratitude which, of all things, brings on more tears.
I fight to hold them back, at least trying to get myself under control. I swallow hard, forcing the lump out, then rub my face and run my hands through my hair. When I hit a knot, I know I need to do something. Anything.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head as I exhale heavily.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Ziva says.
“I do,” I say. “I’m trying. I don’t…” a sob clenches my throat, and I have to wait for it to pass before I can finish. “I don’t know why I can’t get over it.”
“Because it hurts?” Ziva asks.
“You’re fine,” I say.
“No,” she snorts. “No I’m not. I’m better at hiding it, sure, but I’m not fine.”
“But… you have Rakstan…”
“And that is great,” she says. “Really and truly, but not a day goes by I don’t think about the crash. About those we lost.”
My lips tremble as I shudder.
“You’re serious,” I say.
“Yes, I am,” she says. “It was terrible. All of us are traumatized by it, each of us is dealing with it in our own way. Mick’s way is to be a bitch.”
My eyes go wide, and my mouth drops open at her bluntness.
“She’s only—”
“Being a bitch,” Ziva says. “Trust me, I was the queen of bitches. I am more than qualified to know one when I see it.”
I want to protest, to defend Mick and her words, but I can’t. It’s true. Not nice, but true.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“You have to see, though, that’s the point. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying, she’s lashing out. She’s hiding her own pain by inflicting pain.”
“It hurts,” I say, tears falling again.
“I know,” Ziva says, pulling me back into a hug. “I know.”
She rubs my back and holds me tight until I stop sobbing again.
“But you have to do the best you can do,” she says when I stop at last.
I sit up straight and wipe the new tears away.
“I’m not pulling my weight,” I say.
“No,” Ziva says, and pain stabs into my chest. “You’re not, but you’re trying. You’re getting better. I see it, and so do the others.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, wrapping my arms around my chest.
“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she says wiping a tear off my cheek. “I want you to keep healing. Keep trying. One day at a time is fine, if you’re getting better every day. If you’re going along in an unending funk that’s only getting worse…”
She trails off and I’m left hanging, waiting for her next words.
“Yeah?” I ask at last.
Ziva shrugs, flashes her brilliant smile.
“Well, then what do I do with you?” she asks. “It’s not like we have any counselors, or anyone who knows how to help.”
“Yeah,” I snort. “We’re on our own.”
“Exactly,” she says. “So you have to get better. We’ll help, but I can’t lose you. I need you.”
She looks at the far wall and shakes her head, softly repeating to herself what she said.
“What?” I ask, confused by what she’s doing.
“I need you,” she smiles. “It’s… I never…”
“You never what?” I ask.
“I’ve never admitted something like that,” she says. “See? We can all be better than we were. There’s still hope, if a bitch like me can get better then you’re miles ahead of where I started.”
“You’re not a bitch,” I say.
“Not anymore,” she agrees. “But girl, on the ship? I was the best of the best bitches. Mick wouldn’t hold a candle to me.”
I laugh and so does Ziva. Some of the weight crushing me down eases. It’s not gone, but it’s less. I’m not as crushed as I was, at least.
“I think…” I hesitate, looking at my own decision and what I’m about to say before committing myself. “I think I can help Allie.”
Ziva arches an eyebrow looking me over. “Are you