So I'm completely and utter dead. Feels! Ugh! Anyhow, that was an amazing episode and I loved how it went into Ziva's past - even though I do think there were some things they could have done differently. Oh well, no matter, here is a little one shot thingy that may or may not help you through this very difficult time.
A review might help as well ^_^
~Rebecca
All he can think of as his plane climbs high into the sky is that she should have.
She should have gotten to be a ballerina; one dressed in a stereotypical pink tutu and hair done up in a bun. She should have been able to dance however much she wanted, have been able to stay that little girl for longer.
She should not have been taught to kill with her bare hands.
She should have been able to ride a horse. A brown horse, the same colour as her eyes and she should have been able to ride so fast that it felt that, at any moment, she would take off and have been flying among the clouds.
She should not have been taught to drive the way she did for the sake of avoiding roadside bombs.
She should have gotten to live in her castle. A big one that had towers so tall it would have looked like the clouds were split in two. A castle that had big rooms where she could dance to her heart's content and people who would happily wait on her hand and foot. A castle that was never, ever empty and people to make sure that she was never, ever alone.
She should not have been made alone in this world far too early.
She should have been able to visit Ireland and America. Ireland with the green mountains and the leprechauns at the end of the proverbial rainbow, manning a pot of gold. Ireland with the soft accents and the even softer rain. And visit America. America with its 'land of the free and home of the brave'. America with their mass celebrations and range of accents. To go to America as a tourist, as someone who goes for the pictures and gets one of those stupid 'I *heart* NYC' t-shirts instead of someone who goes there as a liaison for the Mossad, instead of someone who goes there to shoot their brother and clean up the mess he made along the way.
She should not have had to go to America and have been made an only child.
She should have gotten her boy and her girl. Two little children with her bottomless brown eyes; the girl with her mother's unmanageable hair and the boy with his mother's cheeky smile, the one she kept hidden inside and only showed when a prank was played. A boy and a girl who were adorable and who he knows she should have loved more than anything else.
She might still get that.
They've had their first hello and their last goodbye and he knows that he will probably never see her again. And if he doesn't, then he hopes that she will be happy, she will be safe.
That she will live.