I got this idea from another fic - I hope that doesn't make it plagiarism, because this is still very different from that one. It doesn't pertain to any episode in particular, though it's definitely season 7...

Don't own NCIS or anything related to it. Well, I do have a couple of DVD boxes, but that's about it.

Please review!

She doesn't say a word, but he knows.

He can see it in the way she moves. Her paces are more measured, more carefully counted. Less fluent, somehow. Like she's still getting used to moving around on her own legs.

It's hard to notice, he will admit that. But that doesn't mean he's not disappointed that nobody else seems to notice how she cringes slightly every once in a while, particularly when they have been standing still a long time. When that happens, she moves her arms or legs, seemingly shaking them loose. But the grimace that accompanies those movements tell him otherwise.

She doesn't talk about it, and he would've expected nothing less from her. Ziva is not one to suffer out loud. He is willing to bet that during her time in Somalia, she did not shout once.

He sees the wounds. Not literally: she keeps herself covered up, he has never really seen any mark on her, but he knows they're there. He can read her injuries just by watching her move. He sees how she favours her left arm and how she constantly moves her fingers, stretching and tensing them.

She moves more slowly. He is sure her reflexes are still great, but she has stopped making unnecessary movements. He is not sure she is even consciously doing it; it could be a reminder from those dark days a few weeks ago, when every movement meant more pain, more energy wasted. She might not even know that she took that part of Somalia with her back home.

He sees other things too, things he is sure she will never talk about, not unless she has a monumental breakdown. And in all his years, he has only seen her break down once; and at the time, he was not yet fully recovered from his amnesia, and he is not sure what part of his memory is playing tricks, and what is reality.

Still, he is sure of what he sees now. And it makes him ball his fist in useless anger. There is nothing he can do now, nothing to somehow avenge her; as it is, they are far away from that place, and it is for the better.

But it does not stop him from wanting to hurt those who did this to her. He knows it is not just Saleem; he cannot say how he knows, but the thought had formed in his mind when he had first seen her and had firmly implanted itself, until he was unable to think otherwise.

He knows they have violated her body in the worst way a woman can be violated; still, she does not talk. Beatings are not as hard to admit, and she has certainly never denied that part of her imprisonment, though she has never exactly confirmed it, either.

But such a primal act against nature is the hardest to admit. He has seen it many times. And he is not surprised that this is not any different for Ziva.

He knows that talking about it will only serve to make her more uncomfortable. There are people out there she is more likely to talk to, because they are easier to talk to, or maybe understand her better. He is not going to force the issue. And he knows that talking won't heal everything – oh, he knows that like nothing else.

But he looks at her with worried eyes, and somehow she understands what he tries to tell her, she knows what he knows. And for a moment, she looks scared, but then her face relaxes into some form of acceptation.

And he knows she will be ready to talk soon.