It popped into my head when I was in English. Excuse mistakes.
SPOILER WARNING: SEASON 7 PREMIER!
Review? Thanks, Anna :)
People were sleeping.
Tony's head lulled against the cargo nets, eyes drooping as he drifted into unconciousness. Gibbs was already sleeping smoothly, his sniper's cammouflage resting on the metal floor by his feet. McGee's head had dropped forwards and he was snoring softly.
Ziva however, could not sleep. She could feel the steady pulse of the propeller blades vibrating through the cargo hold, sending spasms of pain through her body as the various injuries made themselves apparant. But pain was not good.
Pain meant she was alive, and she did not deserve to live.
Ziva David had made peace with death many years ago; she had prepared herself over the summer to die. Expecting to wake up to the sensation of a blade being drawn over her throat as she stared in to the man's cold eyes... into the abyss.
She had not expected to be rescued. She had not expected that anyone would care. Left for dead to be beaten, tortured and killed in her filthy cell, with the only company being rats and men who veiwed her as lower than the filth she slept in or believed death was too good for her.
Yet once again, she had been surprised.
Tony, Gibbs and McGee had cared enough to try find her. She wondered fleetingly who had begun the search, but dismissed the thought. Soon enough, she would be called back to Israel to go out on another operation that would undoubtedly get her killed. And no-one would care. No-one would notice her disappearance. Sure, her father would show up at a customary memorial in the centre of the Mossad headquarters in Tel Aviv and grieve over her name on a slab, along with the many other operatives killed in the line of duty, but it would not last. Immeadiatley, he would revert back to being 'Director', and he would only miss her in numbers.
Ziva had learnt a long time ago that the best way to survive - the only way to survive - was not to care. To care was to lose. Because feelings were nothing but chemical reactions in the body that saved the oposition the job of injecting you. Feelings were weaknesses.
Tony stirred beside her, shifting slightly as he closed his eyes again.
Of course he would rescue her. Foolish man, thinking he knew her. He knew nothing of the attrocities she had seen, the acts she had committed. She deserved to die - why couldn't he accept that? He should have left her.
Left her to die.
Left her to her fate.
People were sleeping, but Ziva David was not.