Finally, another story. Tags to Enemies Foreign. I shall be writing again soon; school just bogged me down with papers in the last few weeks that I have no time (or any inspiration) to write. Anyways, I do not own NCIS...
Why would he bring that up? Why would he bring back all those painful memories? They were painful only because she was the only one left. Tali was dead; she had died years ago. Ari was dead at Ziva's hands; she had killed her brother in order to gain Gibbs's trust. Ziva was the only one left now.
So why would he mention Ari and Tali? Did he really want to make her feel guilty and force her into talking that way? Ziva's eyes had filled with tears when he mentioned her siblings. She didn't answer his question but instead turned away. Then, both father and daughter got in the car and drove away.
Ziva didn't have any time to think about the conversation that she had with her father until that night. They hadn't heard from him all day. He was worrying everyone, Ziva included. When she got home, the tears escaped from here eyes and raced down her cheeks. She couldn't help herself.
She was scared. Ziva hated to admit it, but it was true. What Abby had told her during the day had really resonated with Ziva, and the former Mossad agent wanted to talk to Eli. Now though...it might be too late. NCIS had no idea where Eli was. They could not get in contact with him.
Ziva was mentally preparing herself for the worst. She was coming to terms with the fact that she might not get to talk to Eli about everything that happened. About her childhood, about letting her come to the US, about leaving her in Somalia to die...If Eli was really gone, then Ziva had to come to terms with the fact that she couldn't ask him about anything anymore.
Ziva was curled up on the couch, reading a book, when someone knocked on the door. She glanced behind her and hurried over. She had a feeling of who was at the door, but she hoped that the person she thought of was not there. She really did not want to talk to him.
Opening the door, Ziva frowned. "Tony, please. Not tonight. Please, go home," she begged, looking up at her partner. Ziva did not want Tony to see her in this torn state; she did not want him to be here when she cried.
Tony didn't listen to her. Instead, he moved into her apartment and turned to look down at her. "Come on, Ziva. I know you're not okay. I left you alone all day. I'm not gonna leave you alone now," DiNozzo said, looking down at her.
Ziva looked up at him, biting her lip. She couldn't let him in. She couldn't just expose all of her feelings. That was just something she did not do. Ziva never let her emotions show; it was a sign of weakness. And Ziva was not weak at all.
The Israeli shook her head and walked past Tony, her arm brushing up again his. She didn't reply to what he said. Ziva didn't know what to say. She walked into the kitchen and got out a couple of drinks. When she turned back around, two drinks in her hand, Tony was right there, millimeters away from her.
He took the drink from her and then smiled ever so slightly. "Ziva, please. I'm here to listen. Can't you just talk to me?" DiNozzo softly said, a worried look flashing in his hazel eyes.
Ziva's brown eyes searched his own and she quickly looked away and headed to the couch. "Tony, I told you before; I am fine. Please, just go home."
DiNozzo followed her to the couch and sat down next to her, an arm casually wrapping around her shoulders. "You're lying," he simply said, taking a drink of the beer that Ziva handed him.
Ziva David felt herself molding into side, fitting there like a puzzle piece. "Tony...I told you everything. I am fine. Please, just go home," she said, although Ziva made no effort to pull away from Tony. She set her beer on the table and then rested her head on Tony's shoulder.
"I'm not leaving you here alone. You can talk...if you want. If you don't want to, I won't force you. But I am not leaving you, Ziva," DiNozzo said gently, looking down at her and kissing the top of her head.
Ziva looked up at Tony, a small smile playing on her lips. That's the one thing she loved about Tony; he was there for her no matter what, even if she didn't want to talk. Snuggling closer to him, Ziva kissed his lips gently.
After a short moment, she pulled away and rested her head on his shoulder again. "Thank you, Tony," she murmured. "For everything."