Title: Could It Be Any Harder
Fandom: NCIS
Author: Alidiabin
Words: 3,639
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sigh.
Warnings/ Spoilers: 8x14
Parings: nothing really.
Summary: Rachel and Ziva have something in common. This was meant to be something short but turned into a long one, which explores how both Ziva and Rachel dealt with their little sisters deaths.
A/N: In this story Ziva is about seven years older than 28. Do the math kiddies.
Could It Be Any Harder
Could it be any harder to say goodbye
live without you,
Could it be any harder to watch you go, to face what's true
If I only had one more day
- Could It Be Any Harder by The Calling
A cell phone interrupted Rachel and Ziva's conversation in the pumpkin walled conference room. The shrill loud vibrating sound came from Ziva's leather bag. Rachel knew Ziva did not have to bring the bag into the psych evaluation but had done it as comfort much like a child still attached to a toy. Rachel had heard Ziva's feet kicking the leather bag when the conversation became awkward and the questions made Ziva tense. Rachel had heard Ziva had a habit of cleaning her gun during psych evaluations and was thankful that Ziva had chosen to destroy her bag rather than scare Rachel witless by cleaning a loaded weapon.
Ziva tipped out her leather bag in search of the cell phone. Rachel observed the contents of the younger woman's black leather bag. A red colored planner fell out and a wallet with a worn clasp. The brown leather wallet fell open. Rachel noticed a photograph in the second plastic photo slot (the first had her drivers license in it). The photograph is at least twenty years old, and has three children in it. Two curly-haired girls stand with their hands clasped together. The third and tallest child, whose hand rested on the middle childs shoulder and Rachel believed to be a boy but cannot be certain as there a piece of paper over the top of him. In Rachel's opinion the paper is deliberately placed across his face.
Ziva giggled on the other end of the telephone. Rachel looked up in surprise as such an odd sound came from the former-assassin. Rachel concludes that the person on the other end of the telephone is a significant other or very close to being one.
"Of course," she said with a smile before she uttered something in a foreign language that Rachel believed to be Spanish but she would not know as she only took German in high school and worked very hard to pass with a decent grade, not that the language of the great people of Germany is any use to her now.
Rachel felt a tinge of jealousy over the younger woman's apparent happiness. At forty-one Rachel is another modern American statistic. A childless divorced woman who lived alone not even owning a cat. At least once a month Rachel would field telephone calls from her mother, a former midwife, desperate to know if her now youngest child will become like her brothers and have a family; Rachel still had not had the heart to tell her it was all too late. She had not even been home for over a decade. Originally it had been because she was too busy but since Kate's death it was because she could not face it.
Her three brothers held down the fort. William the eldest became an accountant and moved back to Kentucky as soon as he could, starting an accounting practice to help all the small business in the small town. He had set his business up with his wife to be and fellow accountant Melisa, he and Melisa eventually married and had two children, one of which had gone off to college the same year Kate died. The next brother Peter never married, but he did not receive the same flack as Rachel did because he joined the Catholic Church as a Minister. He sometimes sent photos of the African villages he helped out, but in recent years with his declining health and increasing old age had returned to his hometown to take over the local Parish much to his families delight. The final brother Joseph who was expected by many to be the last child (in actuality he was only the third) had inherited his father's love of automobiles but instead of being a mechanic like his father, he became an engineer on his fathers insistence. Joseph had always wanted to be an mechanic. He served in the Army for many years, and when he got out of the army he brought his wife and child back to him hometown and brought the local mechanic shop, he now owned and ran it. Despite his business, Joseph had also found the time to get his wife pregnant for the second time.
Rachel's life had not been one of celibacy. In high school, she dated a few boys but none of the relationships lasted longer than a month. Looking back Rachel believed it to be because, she was the eldest daughter of the Todd family, which included her father and three older brothers all at least five years older than her high school boyfriends and all of the boys in her high school lived in fear of getting injured for breaking her heart. For eight years the male population of her high school lived in fear of the Todd boys as both she and Catlin got their diploma's. In college, medical school and the years beyond that she had many dates but nothing really lasted long.
It did happen eventually in fact Rachel had once been married; to a blonde haired man she met on a blind date not long after her thirty-second birthday, much to her mother delight who had begun to worry about her daughters love life to the point where she was forwarding links to dating websites via email. Lucas Cranston had been a corporate lawyer, a Catholic, and most importantly a good man. He and Rachel had tried to build a life. Lucas and Rachel had married not long after Rachel's thirty-fourth birthday and had begun to contemplate children, but had nipped that idea in the bud after a year of trying and no results. Each time Rachel was confronted with the scarlet stain, familiar to her since she was thirteen, in her underwear she lost faith. They were given no reason for their inability to have a fruitful marriage. Both their mothers and other relatives suggested IVF, adoption and even surrogacy. They tried IVF but it failed and it was to heart wrenching a journey to repeat. They contacted adoption agencies and were put on a wait list, but they were never called.
Lucas and Rachel's almost perfect relationship crumbled in their hands, both of them spent the cold empty nights in their respective offices or in the arms of another person. Neither Lucas nor Rachel commented when the other came in smelling of foreign perfume or with claims work was busy. Their slightly bigger than average house felt huge and empty, and warm Florida felt like cold Maine. The Cranston's stayed stuck in their unhealthy rut the stubbornness of the pair of them and the fact they had both been raised Catholic prevented them from getting a divorce. A divorce would have been much healthier than what they lived in for over a year.
Then Kate died. A single phone call from her distraught mother shattered Rachel's world. At first, she did not believe it, she could not fathom a world without Kate in it. So Rachel ended her telephone call with her mother giving no definite answer on whether she would be attending the funeral and called Kate's phone. The answer message played, as Kate asked for messages. Rachel played it again and an again before driving home with mascara stained streaks down her face.
Thirty-six year old Rachel retreated to her bed like an upset teenager; she hid under the bed covers and sobbed until her cream colored covers were black stained with her mascara. She tried to fall asleep in the hope that she could wake up and it all be but a dream. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Kate's smiling face, and memories flooded her; of the pair of them dancing in the lounge, of Kate helping her sneak Jack Kruger her latest boyfriend in to their house, of the pair of them managing to convince Joseph the last brother at home to wear makeup. But it hurt to remember, every time she did she sobbed and screamed.
Lucas came in late that night smelling of cheap perfume; he found her in their bed a complete wreck and asked her what was wrong in a cold neutral tone, illustrating exactly what their marriage had become. She told him, in between babbles of tears. He stood still for a second as emotion flooded his face, he and Kate had met only a few times but seemed to like each other. Kate had brought her boyfriend Major Tim Kerry to Rachel and Lucas' wedding over two years ago, Rachel and Lucas had sent a condolence card when Major Kerry was killed. Lucas let a brief glimpse of emotion cross his face before he composed himself like he did when he worked, he focused on his wife. He kissed his wife on the forehead and tried to offer support and condolences but his wife was inconsolable. So, he walked out of the room. He left her alone occasionally bringing in alcohol or food but saying nothing. That time was the only time she cried of her sister's death, she shut down. Continuing in safe numbness not feeling a thing.
Lucas stuck around for six months after Kate died; he pretended to try and help, but looking back Rachel always wondered if he intended to leave her not long after Kate died but stuck around because he was sympathetic and did not want to be known as the guy that left the woman whose sister was just violently killed. Rachel became obsessed, she cut out every article she found on Kate and put them up on a cork notice board in one of the spare rooms that her and Lucas had once idealized as a nurcery. The name of her killer was never revealed to the public, he wass described as a Palestinian terrorist with ties to HAMAS, the person who killed him is told to be a senior NCIS Agent who did not wish to be named.
Then Lucas left, he cleared out his stuff and most of their joint bank account while she pretended to work pretending to care about snotty rich kids, and crumbling marriages. She came home to an empty house. She grabbed the first breakable thing and threw it at the wedding photo above the lounge room fireplace. She watched at the shards of jagged glass shattered around her. To her surprise, not a single tear pricked her eyelid. She too decided to leave, she ran up stairs and packed a bag of her own, slipping all the articles into a plastic pocket. She left Lucas to deal with the house and divorce settlement.
So, Rachel became a wandering psychiatrist. She worked for a company the evaluated different teams in different parts of the country who worked in high-risk situations. She worked with astronauts, firefighters, and law enforcement officers. She always found the law enforcement ones difficult but still signed up for the pain each time perhaps she wanted closure. When the opportunity came up to work with the team that her sister had once been on Rachel jumped at it, wondering if it would finally bring the much-craved closure, so far it had only hurt her. She wanted to do nothing but run.
Ziva hung up the phone and the sudden silence broke Rachel from her musings. She looked down at Ziva's file trying to avoid eye contact with the impatient Israeli-American. Rachel's brown eyes caught a glimpse of Ziva's file. Most of the former assassins file had been blacked out or not very useful but the information that stared back at her shook Rachel to her core.
One sister Tali David (born 24/02/80) killed in a HAMAS suicide bombing 10/11/96 in Haifa, Israel. David, 20 was in Tel Aviv, Israel at the time.
Rachel read the text a second and then a third time. Tears pricked her eyelids and Rachel took a deep breath gulping the air. She looked up at Ziva, who was unaware of what Rachel had read but was certain something was wrong. Rachel realized she and Ziva had far too much in common, they had both been miles away when their sisters were violently and unexpectedly killed.
Rachel closed the file. The information engraved in her brain. She opened her mouth.
"You lost your sister," Rachel said quickly and nervously. Ziva's face flushed with sudden emotion, she bit her lip trying to stop tears from falling. Rachel felt terribly guilty as she realized the anguish she had caused Ziva in her own search for closure.
"I am not talking about that," Ziva said quietly in a forced neutral tone. She looked away toward the window that did not open.
"I understand," Rachel said speaking one hundred per cent honestly.
Ziva was furious; the doctor had no right to talk about Tali or claim to have understanding. She already disliked Rachel simply due to her profession and because the woman had brought up Agent Todd and reminded her how much of an outsider, Ziva really was and how she would never measure up to Agent Todd. Ziva had only recently after six years begun to feel like a real part of the NCIS family now she felt like she was not, that she was just an extra with too many lines. Rachel had reminded her how the others all knew this wonderful person, who her half brother had taken away.
Memories of sweet Tali flooded Ziva's mind as she looked at the glassy window. Memories of her and Tali dancing, of the pair of them hiding under her bed while their parent fought as they tried to save their shattered marriage, she remembered comforting a tearful Tali as she raced out of her mother's house ready to join Mossad.
With the good memories came the bad, as was always the case with her. She remembered her father's cold voice on the telephone as she picked it up on the warm day.
She was standing in her small undecorated apartment, hot and sweaty from a run on a sweltering Tel Aviv day. Her latest boyfriend Lior a fellow Mossad trainee wrapped his arms around her waist. One hand crept up underneath her crop top, the other hand pulled at the elastic of her tight shorts. She knew exactly what he was after; she smirked and ran her spare hand down his shorts. He tried to encourage her to end her telephone call quickly.
"Aba," Ziva whispered as she half-heartedly swatted Lior's hands away.
"Ziva," Eli said quietly. "Um."
"Aba," Ziva said again with alarm in her voice. Lior walked off in search of a shower, having released Ziva was busy and not wanting Eli David a senior Mossad Officer to find out he was screwing his daughter.
"There was a bus bombing in Haifa, HAMAS claimed responsibility." Eli said in a cold neutral tone.
"I know, we saw it on the news," Ziva said, she bit her tongue as soon as she realized she had mentioned Lior, her partner in running and in the bedroom. She and Lior had run past a small electronics store on their way back from their long run, there was a crowd outside the store staring at the news footage. Ziva had been feeling slightly weird for about half an hour, and stopped to watch the footage. Ziva had felt physically sick as the camera focused on the black burnt out shell of a bus then panned around the road to show peoples shocked and saddened faces.
"Tali was on that bus, Ziva." Eli said his voice breaking with emotion. Ziva stopped and stood completely still.
"No," she said shaking her head not wanting to believe it.
"Yes," Eli said quietly.
Ziva hung up the phone, and then swung around knocking a dirty plate off her kitchen counter. She then begun to scream as the world as she knew it stopped. Lior walked out half naked, he tried to find out what was wrong. Ziva said nothing as he spoke, she just rushed into her room and filled a bag with things and grabbed a fake passport and ran out of the building still dressed in her workout clothes.
She ran off to Edinburgh where Ari was, they got drunk. Ziva tried drugs some were green some were white. She smoked some, snorted one and took a dozen different pills. She slept with one of Ari's friends, just to find solace and stop the pain nothing did. In the end Ari had told her to go back to Tel Aviv, to use all her anger to get vengeance.
"Little sister," he whispered as they sat on the roof of his Edinburgh flat in late November and watched the pure white snow fall. "You are so angry."
"Aren't you?" Ziva replied as she shivered in the cold weather. Ari wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm.
"Go to Tel Aviv; use your anger to catch the Bastards who did this." Ari whispered. Ziva bit her lip. She listened to her brothers words, getting the people who had darkened her world seemed like an appealing idea.
"They will know why they are dying," Ziva said in a cold voice. Ari shook his head above her, as much as he wanted the sad excuses for humans who killed his baby sister, he did not want Ziva to become jaded because of it.
Every single member of the HAMAS terrorist cell that so violently stole Tali's life, was killed in close contact. With the cold metal of a gun on their foreheads, the last thing every single one of them heard was this is for Tali. Ziva would then let the heat of the freshly fired gun scold her. She would stay and watch until the last breath escaped their chest.
She killed the last one, in the alleyway in Ramallah. Sand filled the air despite it being an urban area. She watched the last breath slowly escape the young man's lungs. She then looked up at the man and studied his face. She had not done that with anyone of the other men, because she knew their faces from photographs on Mossad dossiers. She studied the young man's face and realized the dossier had over exaggerated his age. He was perhaps eighteen that meant he had been no older than Tali when she died. He was barely an adult. His dark olive features were now stained scarlet red. Ziva felt sick as she realized what she had done. Even if he had something to do with Tali's death, she had still killed a man. She forced herself to compose herself and hide her emotions. She wrapped the black scarf she had on around her head and walked out into the streets of Ramallah as if she had not a care in the world. Once she reached the solace of the safe house Ari had acquired for her she realized she had become someone Tali would hate.
Tali had never been far from her thoughts are the years wore on and as the safe houses, partners and identities changed before she ended up on temporary detached duty in Washington DC which quickly became more permanent. Ziva often dreamed about Tali, or imagined what Tali would have been like as an adult. Ziva knew Tali would have been a far better person than she was. Still Tali remained eternally sixteen taken from a world she was far too good for. Ziva tried to only remember the happy, but the sad tainted the memories and it recent times Ziva had come to understand it always would.
She turned to face Rachel. The elder woman had a desperately sad expression, and seemed very apologetic. Ziva focused on the woman's features. She raised her eyebrow. There was something familiar about this woman.
Ziva found her photographic memory recalling Caitlin Todd's dossier, a document she had read six years ago.
One sister Rachel Todd Cranston born 1969. Three brothers...
Ziva remembered joking with Ari that the sister was closer to him in age as he studied her dossier word for word in a derelict safe house somewhere in Europe. Ziva looked at the woman and put everything together. The questions about Agent Todd and about Ziva's own sister. To Ziva's surprise her opinions of Rachel changed, yes Ziva still did not like her but now she understood and empathized far too well. Ziva had been in Rachel's place once, she had sought closure of course she had gotten it a different way but she still understood.
"I hope you find what you are looking for here," Ziva said cryptically as she got up and walked out of the room even though Rachel had not dismissed her.
Rachel was left alone. She pulled out her own wallet and a photo of her and her siblings all youthful and smiling. She rubbed Kate's frozen face. She then realized that she had not even seen her own sister's grave. Maybe that would bring closure she mused. She picked up her own cell phone. She pressed M on her keypad.
"Mom," she said quietly as her mother picked up the phone.
"Rachel," Lillian Todd cried in surprise on the other end. "Robert, Rach is on the phone." She shouted to her husband.
"I was thinking once I'm done here in DC I might come up to see you guys." Rachel whispered.
:"That would be lovely," Lillian said. "I will tell everyone. Oh Rachel I am so glad you called." Rachel smiled.
"I'm glad Mom," she said quietly.
"I'm going to call everyone; they will be so excited to see you." Lillian said. Rachel hung up. She ran her finger over Kate's frozen face.
"Are you excited to see me Katie?" she whispered to the frozen face. "I'll put roses on your grave. There still your favorite flowers right?"
A/N: Gosh, I did not expect to write so much. So reviews?