He'd stayed silent, listening to the sounds of battle, hand twitching reflexively over his pistol. If he heard a scream - if he heard any cries of pain that didn't come from Nightmares - he was going down there. She'd come looking for him, and even if he wasn't sure where they stood and didn't think he could handle finding out, he still couldn't let her get hurt.

It didn't come to that. The gunshots abated soon, and before Wash knew it Ziva was standing at the top of the staircase. Melody leapt nimbly aside to let her through. The cat had been part of the plan to get Ziva up here; of course she approved of Ziva's presence. Wash, on the other hand, wasn't so sure. Recently, he hadn't been able to open his mouth without breaking something; given that he was pretty sure this friendship was already broken, he didn't want to make it worse. "Go ahead." Because nothing else he could think to say sounded remotely passable.