We All Fall To Pieces, a ncis fanfic

Title: We All Fall to Pieces (But At Least You Fell to Me)

Genre: Angst, Romance

Rating: PG-13

Pairing(s): Kate/Ziva

Summary:. "He was my half-brother." Ziva makes a revelation.

Author's Notes: Woah. I haven't posted for this fandom in a long time. Anyway, I wrote this a while ago and just found it again. I decided to go ahead and post it even though I don't really like it that much. Constructive criticism would be great for this thing, honestly. Title is from "Walk on Water or Drown" by Mayday Parade.

XXX

"He was my half-brother."

There was no warning, no preparation. The words came out in a sudden burst―thick, heavy, and strangely loud. Kate could feel them cutting into her skin until it burned. Acid rose in her throat and coated the insides of her mouth. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

But it was too real to be fake. Ziva stood in front of her, dark curls falling messily into her face, the light in her eyes dimmed from tiredness. Her arms were wrapped around her own body, protecting herself from Kate's reaction. She was naked, and Kate couldn't help but think it was ironic. Ziva was vulnerable and exposed in more ways than one.

"What?" The voice wasn't her own. But Kate could feel the muscles in her throat move as they formed the word. She could taste it in her mouth, mingling with the acid and burning the insides of her lips. Ziva shook her head and said nothing.

The words hung between them, filling all the open spaces between their bodies and pushing them farther apart. Kate could feel the ground beneath her feet shattering, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and try to arrange her thoughts. Her heart beat heavily in her chest.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

"We have the same father," Ziva told her. She whispered it so quietly, the words barely made it to Kate's ears. A secret. A revelation that she hadn't meant to let out. Kate felt it melt into her skin, beyond the point of forgettable. She suddenly felt cold. She wished she was wearing more than underwear. She needed something to wrap around her body. But there was nothing and she simply rocked back and forth awkwardly.

Beat.

Kate forced air into her lungs. It caught in her throat and she worked hard not choke on it. She closed her eyes and immediately wished she hadn't. Memories flickered across her eyelids, blurred and fractured.

Autopsy, unfamiliar accents, and a woman with a bullet in the center of her skull.

Beat.

Gerald groaning in pain, strangely kind eyes, a hand wiping blood from her lips with a false tenderness.

Beat.

Slightly malicious smiles, a motorcycle, a scalpel and a failed attempt to use it.

Beat.

Kate opened her eyes, and focused instead on Ziva. The memories still clawed at the edges of her senses, but all that melted away as she forced herself to take in the woman in front of her. Different memories hit this time.

Smiles across the bullpen, teasing arguments, and nights spent giggling about nothing.

Beat.

Velvety brown curls, warm calloused hands, and bright chocolate eyes.

Beat.

Early morning lovemaking, the engagement rings on their left hands, and days spent doing nothing but curling up together in bed.

Beat.

Kate closed the distance between them. She took Ziva's hands in her own, and the Israeli whispered, "I am sorry." The words dripped down her chin and landed on their hands. Kate entwined their fingers and studied Ziva's face like she had so many times before. There was an unfamiliar youthfulness, a need for acceptance. Wrinkles sat at the corners of her mouth. They tugged her lips downwards. They made her look exhausted, but didn't take away the youthful weakness in her eyes.

Beat.

"You aren't your brother," Kate said, and the air in her stomach spun. She repeated the sentence, more firmly, with more conviction. Kate knew she could have been angry. She should have been angry. Ten months was a long time for Ziva to keep this from her. But there was no anger. Confusion and surprise and a little bit of hurt still sat in her stomach. But Ziva was not Ari. They shared nothing except a father.

Ziva collapsed into herself. Her bones faded into dust and her muscles lost all of their hardness. Kate caught her before she could slide into a heap on the bedroom floor. "I love you," Ziva choked out, and the words held so much.

"I love you too," Kate whispered, and she meant it. Ziva was Ziva. She was the woman with the warm brown eyes who held Kate's hand in public and spontaneously pulled her hair into the neatness of a French Braid. She was the woman who Kate was set to marry in exactly 34 days. She was the woman who Kate would be completely lost without. She was not the man with the leering smiles who rode a bright red motorcycle and killed because he could. Ari Haswari was only cold, lifeless bones in the ground now. Ziva had killed her own brother to save Kate. And Gibbs. And everyone else.

Kate pulled the heap of emotions that was Ziva David over to the bed. The sheets tangled around them, and Kate decided the shower they had been about to take could wait. She wrapped her arms around the broken woman beside her. Ari had a reputation stained with blood. But Ziva was different. She was completely different.

Kate spent the rest of the morning telling her this. She whispered the words until Ziva believed them.

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