A/N: I got my inspiration from the song Best Songs Come From Broken Hearts from Nashville and since I am useless at studying I decided to write this piece of *insert heartfelt message here*. So enjoy and please review (except my pizza eating and X-men loving friends)(Yes, you two. You guys know who I am talking about. NO COMMENTING. I refuse your comments.)
PS. This was written from Gibbs' point of view where he is lurking in the shadows like a paedophile, but don't worry, Ziva is like a daughter to him so it is fine. Everything is all good.
PPS. I do not own NCIS or any of the characters.
The room was dark and dusty. In the corner stood an old grand piano covered in a torn sheet. My daughter removed the sheet and opened the curtains next to the piano. The cold winter light streamed in through the window. Down below you could see the snow falling down slowly, covering many hills and trees in a soft white blanket. Each snowflake, much like humans, are all unique and different from the others. Ziva pulled the squeaky chair across the wooden floor. The sound echoed through the empty halls of the abandoned mansion. Slowly she sat down and lifted the lid off the keys. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before hesitantly touching a key with her left index finger. It was a soft sweet note that carried through the icy air.
After the note faded away Ziva familiarized herself with all the notes before she started to play. The notes were soft, long and sweet, like the memories of our childhood. The music sped up at a mild pace as the time passed by and the tone changed like Ziva did over the years. At times the tone was happy and cheerful, it reminded me of climbing trees and swimming in rivers and lakes near our home. Then the tone changed into memories of sneaking out at night to look at the stars, making wishes that rarely came true. Again the tone changed and became loud and fast as Ziva's training and missions for Mossad started and intensified with each passing note.
Then the song changed into an epicedium for the time Ziva received news that Tali died in a suicide bombing near her school. The tone was filled with mourning and longing, and over time the sadness and fear was replaced with anger. Anger at the world for everything she lost and hurt flooding every note as her heart bled. Then it turned deep, dangerous and loud as Somalia started. The notes cracked like thunder every time the whip slashed across her bare back and blood curdling screams cutting through air and bone as she burned. The terrifying part was when the music became calm and lifeless when she lost her will to live, but then the music became bitter-sweet as she returned home. The song spoke of hope and second chances, but it also spoke of the nightmares trapping and torturing her at night. Over time the music became lighter and found a new and more peaceful, yet strong, harmony as she healed and the scars faded.
In the second part of the symphony a violin joined in. It was almost inaudible at first but the sounds of the instrument became clearer as the song progressed. Then the guitar started playing, then the cello, then the faint beats of drums in the distance. Each started off softly but got louder over time until the entire orchestra was playing. It was out of sync at first but found its harmony as Ziva became a bigger part of the team each day. The music was breathtaking. Each instrument told a different story of a different life and how it came to be. Every instrument was broken, with wounds and scars, with moments good and bad, but together they made a whole. They told a new story and made new memories in a world where they were all together and safe. A world where everything was perfect and although there was pain, and sadness there was also love and happiness.
And then the song started fading as the future came closer. It faded, but it didn't stop because the ending was yet unknown to the artist. As Ziva closed the lid silence fell yet again, but this time it was different. There was hope and music even in the silence. The sweet lullabies of the snowflakes and the wind. Tears streamed down my daughter's cheeks and I sat down and held her for a small eternity. Our hearts were broken, but they were still good. They still beat strong in our chests as a sign of strength and of hope for tomorrow. Tomorrow when the new day comes and we get to start over, but I know now that what they say is true. The best songs come from broken hearts.
I would name this song The Angel's Lullaby, don't know why but just because. I also imagine Gibbs as a double bass, deep and gentle but strong and powerful.