A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much for you patience - we're back! The reason I waited so long to post was because I wanted to, for once, have most of the story written before I put it up so y'all wouldn't have to wait so long for updates :) Also, this is a birthday present for ladybugsmomma who has been one of my most faithful reviewers on every one of my stories. Happy Birthday hun! Okay everybody, this is what you've all been waiting for - welcome to Three Months Alive.

PS. It's been a month since TWL (Ziva has been home almost 3 months now), so if things seem to have progressed, that's why. Also, I've messed with canon to make events fit into my stories, I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much. Thanks!

Just as suddenly as she started sleeping at Tony's place, Ziva stopped. Tuesday night Tony got up and she wasn't there. It was clear nothing had been touched. For a second his heart dropped and he grabbed his phone to text her, but if Ziva actually was sleeping at her own place, Tony couldn't bear to interrupt. That same week she accepted his suggestion of a movie night and over the next couple weeks, a tradition emerged.

Tuesday nights they would go out to eat after work. On Thursday, Movie Night would happen at one of their apartments, alternating every other week. At least once a month, on Fridays, Abby would insist on a team outing. But as Gibbs continued to refuse to be social, Ducky politely turned down the offers and Palmer cited studying for midterms and exams as an excuse, it was only ever just the four of them.

Tony often watched McGee and Abby with interest, noting their closeness and the love growing in their eyes for one another. He wondered when Probie would see what he had and finally put a ring on Abby's finger to make it official. Sometimes, if she was otherwise occupied, Tony would look at Ziva's bare hand and dream.

Weekends belonged to Tony and Ziva as well. Saturday afternoons were for board and card games because Ziva studied for her citizenship test in the mornings, and after that he would usually stay for supper. With Ziva as his teacher, Tony's cooking skills expanded tremendously from his few patented Italian recipes and he loved watching her face while she taught him something new. Sunday morning runs became a staple, as did breakfast at the diner and their waitress, Helen, who always made sure she was the one who served them.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings, Ziva disappeared as soon as they were dismissed for the day and refused all his attempts to find out what she was doing. Tony hadn't gotten up the nerve to follow her yet, certain he'd die in his sleep because she'd know and she had a key.

Tuesday mornings as well, if they didn't have a crime scene to be at, Ziva got up from her desk before lunch and left the bullpen without a word to anyone. Gibbs knew, Tony was sure, what Ziva did for an hour each week, but that was information she never volunteered to her partner.

But other than those minor mysteries that kept Tony wondering, life settled into a normal, enjoyable routine. Ziva didn't talk to Tony about her memories or her nightmares, preferring to pretend neither existed. Still, sometimes he saw them in the shadows behind her eyes, the dark circles that spoke of little sleep, the tightness around her mouth as if she were in pain, and the way her reflexes were on such high alert that even standing too close caused a reaction.

Out of respect, Tony didn't ask, but he watched them haunt her, wishing he had some way to make them disappear. Gibbs watched too, and saw more than all of them. He knew Ziva wasn't really getting better, she was only just coping. But it was also inevitable that one day reality would come crashing in and she wouldn't be able to refuse their help any more.

NCIS

It was the last Tuesday in November when Gibbs asked Ziva to run down to Autopsy and get Ducky's latest report. The day had gone well so far, yesterday's case was all wrapped up and her appointment with Dr. Andrews had been rather neutral, instead of good or bad. Ziva felt Tony's eyes on her every time she left without saying a word, but her meetings with the psychiatrist were something she wanted to keep private.

So far they'd been talking for over a month and little by little, Ziva could see it helping. Some nights she only woke once from the nightmares and sometimes she slept longer before they came. Though she was still waiting for the day Devon and Gibbs, in his own way, had insisted was coming - a night when she slept without the threat of dreams.

Ziva was fine until she walked in the sliding door. She'd barely said, "Hello Ducky," before the unsavory smell of dead body hit her nostrils and her stomach rolled. Quickly, Ziva dashed to the trash can beside Ducky's desk and lost her lunch. Ducky dropped what he was doing and hurried over, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket so she could wipe her mouth.

"Thank you," Ziva murmured, blinking and swallowing, grimacing at the taste. A bottle of water appeared in front of her and Ducky's hand rested on her forehead.

"Are you ill today Ziva?" he inquired.

Ziva shook her head, embarrassed at having been caught. "No Doctor, I am fine. It is nothing, just...the smell," she waved her hand towards the metal tables, only to notice for the first time that they were empty.

Ducky patted her shoulder. "Mr. Palmer only just put our most recent guest away and it was a nasty one. I don't blame you for your reaction." Cocking his head to the side, he eyed her curiously. "Has this happened before?"

"Occasionally," she admitted. "I think certain smells trigger...memories."

Ducky didn't press to know details, what Gibbs had told him about the condition she'd been found in had been enough. "It may be nothing, but it may be something," he said practically. "I would like to do a quick check up and draw some blood for tests, just to be safe."

"Ducky, I am fine," Ziva protested, but he ME would not be swayed.

"I'll feel better when I know that for myself my dear. Come, just sit up here on the table, it won't take long."

Relenting, Ziva sat and waited while Ducky got his bag. She rolled up her sleeves and let him take her blood pressure, submitted to a brief look in her eyes and ears, and said "Ahh," when he looked down her throat. Then it was time for him to take blood.

The sight of the slim, shiny piece of metal had Ziva closing her eyes as her body tensed. The needle slipping into her arm brought back images of being at the hospital after they rescued her, reminded her of the things Saleem had done to try to conjure up a truth when she didn't know what he really wanted. It took all her concentration to control her breathing and reflexes so she didn't accidentally pass out or throw Dr. Mallard across the room.

When he was finished, Ziva breathed a sigh of relief until Ducky gestured to her shirt. "If I may, I would like to see how your injuries have healed."

Ziva bit her lip and looked away. "I would prefer if you did not Doctor."

Ducky's eyes held nothing but compassion. "Ziva, I am not going to harm you."

She sighed. "I know that. But I do not like to be touched, or...seen," Ziva finished in a whisper.

Going over to the doors, Ducky locked them and pulled down the blinds. "It will only take a minute."

It would be the longest minute she'd endured in months. But without further argument, Ziva pulled off her long sleeved shirt. She kept her eyes closed for the duration of the exam. Ducky's fingers were gentle and he kept his touch to a minimum. After three months, the scars on her arms had finally begun to fade, though they were still very visible to her. The marks on her torso were less severe, most of the trauma she'd sustained in that area had been internal. But a criss-crossing pattern of thin cuts still marred the tanned skin. Carefully, Ducky palpitated the ribs that hadn't yet been healed when they brought her home.

Ziva's back was undoubtedly the worst. Many of the lines were still thick and dark, twisted and raised like welts because of how the skin had healed. Ducky's heart broke when he looked at the damage wrought on a woman they cared for so deeply. Finally he handed her shirt back and Ziva knew without even asking that he would want to see the rest as well.

With her top half once again clothed, Ziva stood and dropped her army green cargo pants and tried to think of anything else. Aware of what Gibbs suspected had been done to her, the only woman in an all male terrorist camp, Ducky used his eyes only to touch her hips, legs and feet.

There were a myriad of less visible cuts that had been shallowly slashed up and down both of Ziva's legs, from hip to foot and all over her calves and thighs. Interspersed between were stretched, shiny patches of tissue that had, months ago, been fresh burns. Sorrow filled the doctor and he had to look away.

When his exam was complete, Ducky stepped away and cleared his throat, letting Ziva get dressed again. Uncomfortable silence reigned for several moments before he smiled a little too brightly and retrieved something from a cabinet. "You're coming along very nicely my dear. Is there anything else you need to tell me that I can't see?"

Ziva sighed. "Nothing important Ducky."

Content to leave it alone for now, Ducky sealed the blood vials. "I'll send these up to the lab for test-" he began but Ziva cut in.

"No!" The cry rang out in the silence and Ducky looked at her, surprised. Ziva repeated her declaration more calmly. "No Doctor, you cannot tell anyone. If Gibbs thought..." She trailed off, unable to voice her fears. If Gibbs thought she wasn't handling this, that she couldn't do her job...it was too awful a consequence to consider.

Ducky patted her arm. "I understand Ziva. I will be discreet." He handed her the small jar. "Start putting this on after you get out of the shower. In time it will help reduce the vividness of the marks."

With a small smile of gratitude, though she doubted anyone else would ever look at her body, so it didn't really matter how harsh the scars were, Ziva hopped off the table, pocketed the cream and left. Ducky watched her go and then began preparing the paperwork for the blood. He used the name Deann Saers and took the sample up to the lab himself. Abby's domain was quiet, surprising Ducky until he saw the big black headphones covering her ears.

Dancing to music only she could hear, Abby jumped when he tapped her on the shoulder. Smiling when she saw who it was, Abby took the headphones off. "Dr. Mallard, what brings you up to Labby?"

Ducky glanced at the bag he held. "Abigail I have a friend who needs some, shall we say inconspicuous, blood tests done. But I would need you to keep it just between us."

Abby held out her hand for the vials. "Sure thing Ducky. What am I looking for?"

He waved his hand vaguely. "Run everything. I want to know what secrets that blood has to tell. It's not urgent though Abigail, just get to it when you can."

"Okey-doke."

Ducky turned to go. "Remember, don't tell anyone."

She smiled, zipping her lips and twisting a key. "My lips are sealed."

Heading back to Autopsy, Ducky only prayed Abby didn't find any of the things he feared.

NCIS

Tuesday night was dinner and this week it was Italian at Tony's place. Ziva usually enjoyed his penne, however tonight it was impossible to tell because of how she picked at it and pushed it listlessly around on her plate. Tasting the noodles again, Tony couldn't find anything wrong.

"Did I forget something Zi?" he asked finally.

"Hmm?" she asked, not with him at all.

"Did I miss an ingredient? You don't really look like you're enjoying the food."

Forcing a smile, Ziva took a bite, chewed and swallowed. "No, it is good."

"You're awfully quiet tonight, something on your mind?"

"I am always quiet Tony," she said as if he should know better.

"Not so much lately," he reminded her. Slowly Ziva was getting better, finding a new sort of normal. Though quieter than she had been before Somalia, she was rarely this silent.

Ziva pushed her plate away. "I am fine Tony, just a little tired. Maybe I will go home early."

He stood up. "Want me to drive you?" Tony never gave up trying to get a foot in the door.

She smiled wanly. "No thank you, I can walk, it is not far."

"Okay." Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. "We're still on for Thursday? Movie Night? I've got Blue Crush, it's a great surfing movie."

Ziva nodded. "Of course. See you tomorrow. Thank you for dinner."

She left quickly and Tony stared after her, knowing something wasn't right and that he was being left out yet again. Ziva wasn't distant like that, not usually. He wracked his brain trying to think through their day, but other than taking awhile to come back with Ducky's report, something Gibbs hadn't asked about, Tony could think of nothing that had happened.

He cleared and put away supper, did dishes and straightened up, turned out lights, locked doors and got ready for bed all with his mind focused singularly on wishing he knew what was going on in his partner's head. Nothing had changed yet, not the way he'd hoped, and Tony still had no rights to inquire about her thoughts, to push or pry and find out what was wrong. He couldn't go over to her apartment and make sure she was okay or insist that he drive so she didn't have to walk. But he could care and he could hope, and maybe someday soon, something would finally change.