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Aftermath of PTSD Symptoms

Summary:

Post Somalia Trauma Symptoms and the aftermath of PTSD Symptoms

TW: Trauma, PTSD, Daddy Issues

Notes:

Setting: Post Somalia

Pairing: Z/G (Father-daughter Relationship)

TW: Trauma, PTSD, Daddy Issues

Ziva David/Leroy Jethro Gibbs POV (Third Person Omniscient)

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(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Another night, another sleepless tosses and turns in bed.

Ziva hadn't been able to get a night of decent sleep since she got back.

The dull four walls of her bedroom just made her feel so empty and alone like the cell in the middle of nowhere in the desert.

She would throw herself into work but Gibbs had ordered her to go home and rest for the rest of the afternoon.

She had been making up excuses, avoiding sleep at all costs, the nightmares and flashbacks that came with sleep were not pleasant.

She thought she had been doing a good job of masking the lack of sleep, but apparently not good enough that Gibbs noticed.

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The next morning she was back in the office way too early in the morning again.

"Hey Ziver, got rest last night?" Gibbs came into the bullpen after 30 minutes of waiting.

"Yes, thanks for making me go home." Ziva lied.

Gibbs saw through her lie but didn't say anything, just only hoping that Ziva was better.

"What time did you get in?" He asked sipping his coffee.

"0400" Ziva answered.

"What are you doing here so early?" Gibbs questioned.

"Waiting to start work." The brunette replied blankly.

Gibbs shook his head and went off to get more coffee.

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As the week progressed, PTSD symptoms were becoming more and more obvious and her sleep deprivation just heightened them.

The hyperarousal, the irritability, the mood changes, the franticness in speech (especially during the night) to the almost self-destructive behavior...

It was not a good sign for a person who just went through a traumatic event.

She was showing all the signs of PTSD, and on top of that, she absolutely refused to talk about what happened out there and pretended as if nothing ever happened and she was perfectly fine.

It was not affecting the quality of her work, Ziva wouldn't let it, she held herself to an impossibly high standard. But now not only Gibbs, Tony and McGee had also noticed these changes.

So once again, Gibbs had to intervene and talk to Ziva about the behavior, he knew something was wrong.

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"Ziver, come here," Gibbs said to her gently, gesturing for her to follow him.

The brunette followed him to a quiet space in the back.

"I know you haven't been sleeping, I can tell." he eased into the conversation, "Will you please tell me what's wrong?"

"No, not here," she gave in but still said with a stern look, her facade not faltering a bit.

"Where?"

"I don't know," Ziva said quietly, looking down at her feet.

"My house, tonight. Make sure you come." Gibbs offered (more like ordered).

He let the agent get back to work.

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At almost midnight, Ziva finally got to Gibbs' house.

She had contemplated for a long time whether or not she should show up at all.

The brunette was conflicted, one part of her was telling her to let the father figure help her and the other part was screaming at her to cut and run and push everyone away.

Finally, she pushed through and descended down the basement.

Gibbs was still working on his projects with his back turned to the desks attached to the sides but the center space was mostly empty.

"I was wondering when you would show up." He didn't look up from his project in hand.

"How are you so confident that I would come?" The brunette questioned.

Gibbs just turned around and leaned against the desk.

He didn't say anything so they just stood there in silence.

After a while Ziva walked forward into the dimly lit space, opened her mouth like she wanted to say something but then closed it again almost instantly.

"Tell me what's wrong Ziva," Gibbs said when he realized Ziva wasn't going to guide the conversation.

"I-" she faltered, "I don't know,"

The brunette avoided meeting his gaze like she was ashamed of something.

Gibbs just waited quietly for her to continue.

"I admit. I haven't been sleeping..."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"At all..." She added.

"Why?" Gibbs walked closer to her and asked gently.

"It's the stupid nightmares and flashbacks, every time I sleep, they come crashing in and I am brought back to what seemed like endless torture." She let out a slow shuddering breath trying to control her breathing, not wanting to break down in front of him. After all, she was raised and trained to neglect all emotions and push through.

Gibbs moved closer, holding her shoulders comfortingly, urging her to continue.

"I feel guilty because I was trained to endure the torture, I can handle it at that moment. But I can't handle what comes after, I feel useless when I'm in that state of being in night terrors." She choked out, like admitting to the slightest bit of weakness was poison, and maybe it was.

Under the dim lighting, Gibbs can still see tears starting to stream down her face, he hadn't thought that she was in this much pain until now.

"It's natural to go through all that after everything you've been through. You need to get some help Ziver, but that's a conversation for another day." He said kindly and hugged her tight, trying to comfort his distressed agent. "For now, I just want you to relax and sleep, then you can do the rest at a later date."

"I don't want to be alone," Ziva said in a timid voice.

"If you want I can stay with you while you sleep, just for tonight, to get you back into a regular sleep schedule." He offered.

The brunette nodded, wiping her tears against her sleeve.

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The two of them moved up the stairs and settled on the couch for the night.

Gibbs crossed his legs on the far end of the right side as Ziva set her pillow to the left of him.

Setting her head down on the pillow, she curled her body up into almost a fetal position across the couch.

Not ten minutes after, the brunette was so exhausted from all the crying and emotional exhaustion she had tonight, she fell asleep quickly next to Gibbs.

Somewhere along the lines of watching his agent sleep, he himself also fell asleep on the armrest of the couch. He was only jolted awake by frantic movement beside him.

"¡Ayudame, s'il vous plaît!"

Ziva was slashing and punching the air in her sleep, mixing up all her languages and mumbling something that was definitely not in English.

"Ziva." He shook her shoulder but she didn't budge.

He shook her shoulder harder, "Ziva!"

This time Ziva sat up immediately looking around for a threat with her hands in a defensive position.

"You're okay. You're safe. You're in my house." Gibbs cooed quietly.

"I'm sorry I woke you." She said in a sleepy voice as the guilt sat in.

"No apologizing," he replied. "Sleep."

Gibbs threaded his fingers through her long wavy hair, attempting to soothe her scalp hoping to lull her back to sleep again.

This time, he promised himself that he won't fall asleep and he would watch the brunette for as long as she needed to.

Ziva liked the repetitive movement and tried to go back to sleep, hoping she won't be woken again.

Ziva was glad to have Gibbs as a father figure, she wondered how he can be nicer towards her than her biological father ever could.

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Notes:

There need to be more PTSD stories about Ziva, there's no way she should be that fine after everything she's been through.

Idk what to say to comfort...

Idk what to name the story

I'm sorry, but it is not my intention to make Ziva look weak. I just really needed an excuse to write hurt/comfort things

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