Disclaimer: I feel like we've been over this…

a/n: Here it is. The final chapter. Suddenly "The Final Countdown" is playing in my head.

And now it's playing in yours.

Tony's POV:

--==--

-=-

Ziva's face flashes through my mind as I descend the steps of the catwalk. It wasn't as bad as it looked in the photo Director David showed us, but it certainly wasn't good. I could see the places where she'd been hit. I could see where she'd bled and where she'd bruised.

The marks weren't fresh, but they definitely looked… Suffice to say, I'd rather they weren't there.

I roughly open the file cabinet behind my desk, pulling out a fresh shirt and deodorant.

God, I want to hold her. I want to make sure no one ever touches her again. But she doesn't even want to see me.

Can anyone blame her?

I'm one-handedly unbuttoning my shirt as I see Gibbs walk out of Vance's office, resting against the railing of the catwalk.

I look up at him, and he nods at me, communicating something. Normally, I'd have no trouble figuring out what he's trying to tell me, but right now…

I take off my sling, and begin the painful process of putting on a new shirt.

I need to accept it. Me and Ziva… Ziva and I… we're never going to go back to the way things were. We're never going to have that kind of relationship again.

Even if she forgives me, which seems doubtful at the moment, there's no coming back from the place we're at right now.

I hear a door slam shut, and look up to see Gibbs wrapping his arms around a very fragile Ziva.

When Ziva David allows herself to be helped like that… I can't fathom the torture she's been put through. And I definitely don't want to.

It takes me a while to button up my shirt, and when I do I see that Gibbs is once again alone on the catwalk, facing me.

Where'd Ziva go?

"Conference room." He says, reading my mind. I hate it when he does that.

Screw it.

I determinedly walk through the bullpen and up the stairs, taking two at a time.

"Tony." Gibbs says, standing in my way as I reach him.

"Don't stop me boss. I just want to apologize to her."

"I'm not stopping you. You forgot your sling."

"I don't need it."

"Tony, be careful."

"I'm not going to hurt my arm."

He sighs.

"Not your arm. It's… She's not doing well right now. I don't know what your planning on saying to her… but be careful."

"What are you expecting me to do? I just want to tell her I'm sorry."

He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it.

I'm confused, but I continue on, resolutely walking to the conference room.

I'm going to make it right.

I knock lightly on the door, and I hear a soft "come in." The first words I've heard her speak for way too long.

She is sitting at the far end, staring blankly down at the table. She doesn't look up to see who I am. She probably already knows.

Ninja powers, or something.

"Hey," I start softly, taking a seat at the other end. I don't think she wants me to be any closer. "I just… want to make sure you're doing okay."

She looks up, though not at me. "I am fine."

"Ziva..." I don't know what to say next, so I stop. She is looking at the table again. "It's okay to not be fine sometimes. This is one of those times." I finish finally.

He gaze still rests on the table.

I sincerely doubt the furniture merits that kind of attention.

"I can understand if you don't want to talk to me, or – see me. I do understand. I just…" Suck up your pride DiNozzo. "I'm sorry."

"Apologizing is a sign of weakness." She says blandly.

"Maybe it is. But… You were right." I have her attention as she finally meets my eyes. "I was jealous."

Normally I'm very good at reading Ziva's thoughts. Not at the moment, however.

"But that's not why I shot him."

I expect her to scoff, or call me out.

She doesn't.

"I'm sorry I killed him. You're right. I could've shot him in the leg. But it was a reflex. When you see someone come at you like that…" I stop, realizing that another recap of the fight probably isn't what she needs.

"Tony," her voice is hoarse and I feel a sharp pang.

I don't know how many times she's said my name in the past. But this was easily the most heartbreaking to hear.

"Ziva, please let me finish." I ask plaintively, and she nods.

I'm going to get through this.

I'm the one who's not making eye contact now, as I try to muster up all my courage.

"I care about you, Ziva. More than… More than as just a partner. And you have no idea how hard that is for me to admit."

She gives a short laugh, and even though I know it is probably done ironically, it still makes me smile a little. God I missed her laugh.

"So even though you probably hate me more than anyone else in the world right now, I just… I want to make this right. And I don't care how long it takes."

She's silent, as she looks into my eyes. Probably trying to read my mind. If Gibbs can do it, than she certainly can.

"I guess, I'm just asking you to let me be here for you. I don't know what your situation is with Mossad-"

"I am staying with NCIS." She interrupts quickly, and I feel a wave of relief rush through me. I hide my smile before continuing.

"But, like I was saying, Ziva… I want to be able to help you. And I want to regain your trust."

I pause as she looks off.

"I'll do whatever it takes."

Silence.

"It is a worth a shot." She says after a long moment, and I can't stop myself from beaming. "And Tony, you were wrong."

I shoot her a questioning look.

"I do not hate you more than anyone else in the world. That honor belongs to my father."

There are several depressing things laced within her comment, yet hearing her say it with such levity makes me happy.

She stands up, and I'm tempted to help her, but I know she would refuse.

I'm silent as she walks over to me before lightly placing a hand on my good arm.

"Things are going to get better between us, yes?"

"They aren't going to get any worse."

She smiles.

God, I love that smile.

"Goodnight, Tony" she says, and walks quietly out of the room.

I don't know why I feel happy. Maybe it's not that I'm happy, it's just that I'm not depressed, which is a welcome change from the past few weeks.

I don't know how long it's going to take us to repair our relationship. But I don't care, because one day we'll get there.

Even though that day is not today, I still feel happy.

Or happy-ish. Perhaps that is good enough.

-=-

--==--

That is it.

The end.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I already have ideas for a sequel in my head. I don't want to write one… but I totally want to write one.

Damn indecisiveness.

Anywho, tell me what you think. I know it's not the happiest ending, but it's happy-ish. And perhaps that is good enough?

Yes, I did just quote my own story.

I'd say that rates at about an eight on the lame scale. Maybe eight and a half.

Okay. Now I'm just stalling. I really don't want this fic to be over, but alas, it is.

I guess I'll stop delaying the inevitable now…

Thank you for reading.

-Fin-