A/N: Content warning for mental health stuff. Hence this being at the top.
Tali DiNozzo smiled as she caught sight of her Dad's car, trapped behind another oversized SUV in the parking lot outside of her college. It was the last Wednesday of November, and already so cold. It had snowed that morning, blanketing the ground with white. She pulled her scarf tighter, and adjusted her backpack on her back. She was only going away for the long weekend, why was she carrying so much. She knew it was not just physical weight she carried.
Her father's car inched closer toward her. She saw him, hands on the steering wheel. He looked so much like her grandfather, except his hair was thinner. He looked older than Tali remembered. Tali did the math, subtracting her Dad's age, from the age her grandpa had been when he died. She did this every so often, in the seven years since Senior died. Fearing that genetics were destiny. Her Dad only had nine more years, if that was the case.
"Hey kiddo," Tony said, calling through an open window. He wore a huge smile. The DiNozzo grin. "Ready to rock and roll."
"Hi Dad," Tali said, as she moved around the car, throwing her backpack in the backseat, and walking toward the passenger seat.
Excitement ran through her veins. She was going home. Dread sat in her stomach, she had to talk to them about something. Something big.
"I could have gotten the train," she said as she clicked her seatbelt.
"I know," Tony said, with a smile. "But I fancied the drive."
"How's school?" her Dad asked, as the car slowly moved from the car park, to the main road. Still going a snail's pace. Tali noticed the flash on the car dashboard, her Dad had paused his music. He'd stop anything for her.
"Good," she said, without any hesitation.
Tali caught her Dad's eyes in the rearview mirror. She knew he used to be some sort of Navy cop before she was born, and even after he laid down his badge wore a look that made the other person say more. He never interrogated his kids, but they found it impossible to lie to him nonetheless.
"Honestly Dad," Tali stammered. "It's good. It was hard, but you know about that."
Tony shifted in his seat. The late night phone calls made in those first tense weeks, after Tali left for college, were not so long ago. And, her Dad did not know about the lunchtime calls she had shared with her mother until recently. So many tears had been cried.
"Yeah," he said blowing out a breath. She had caused so much pain in the last couple of years.
"It's better now," Tali assured him. He was still tense. "I'm better now."
Despite only being half-Jewish, it seemed she had two exceedingly neurotic parents. The anxiety had always been there, for as long as Tali could remember. Her parents held her too tight. The looked three times when crossing the street, instead of the usual twice.
"Are you checking in with student health?" Tony asked, as they managed to get onto the freeway. They were making good time. Despite the holiday traffic.
Tali nodded. She thought of the pills. Anti-anxiety, taken daily. For the last eighteen months. Since she spent the summer before her Senior year inconsolable. Anxious. Iriatable. Angry. Her parents had been inconsolable. There were nights where her mother slept next to her on the floor of Tali's room, so afraid that Tali would hurt herself, while the house was quiet.
"Every week," Tali said. "My counsullers name is Lucy. She's good."
Lucy was still fairly young, making her relatable to her mostly young clientele. Lucy liked to talk about family dynamics, and coping mechanisms. They talked a lot about her parents, and their neurosis. Her father's way of holding them too close. Her mother's episodes, which her parents tried so desperately to hide from Tali and her brother. There was so much to unpack.
"And you're sleeping okay?" Tony asked.
Tali could never remember being a good sleeper. Still, she was better than her mother, who woke before six am, almost everyday. Sometimes, her mothers sleep was interrupted by nightmares, but Tali was not supposed to know about those.
"Yeah," Tali replied. "Though my roommate snores."
Her Dad scoffed. The freeway wore on. The view started to change. The houses got further apart. Soon, they would see snow covered farmland. Soon they would be home. To her parents little house; with the movie room in the basement and bay window in the front room. Home. She was going home.
"Just like your Ima," Tony replied, with a smile.
Tali smiled, when Tony called her mother Ima. It was so soft. His eyes would light up. So many of her friends parents had split up over the years, but hers seemed so in love, it was sickening.
"Yeah," Tali replied. "What's with all these questions, Dad?"
Tony looked down at the steering wheel.
"When you called your Ima for her birthday, you said you wanted to talk," Tony said. His voice was laced with concern. Tali knew this tone, she had heard it so much during that difficult summer. It was worry. "It sounded pretty serious."
Tali swallowed thickly. She remembered that call, her mother's warm voice. The thank yous for the gift, Tali had put money toward. It felt so impersonal to be so far away, but her mother was excited for the museum passes that she had been given. Her parents were planning a weekend in Chicago, in the New Year.
"You're Mom and I have been really worried," Tony continued.
He called her your Mom, which meant it was serious.
"I didn't want to worry you," Tali replied. She looked down at her hands. "I just want to talk about something."
Or rather she wanted to ask them a question. A question she did not know how they would react too.
"I know college is hard," Tony said. "You're let loose for the first time. Things happen. You're Ima and I, have your back, with whatever happens. We love you, no matter what."
The delicacy of his words was deliberate. She started to click about what he was asking.
"I'm not pregnant Dad," Tali said quickly. "I can promise you that."
There were birth control pills that were taken with the anti-anxiety pills. There main job was to regulate Tali's cycle. They had been used in their full capacity over the summer, when Tali became close with a boy at her summer job. That had fizzled out, as the two of them were going to two very far away colleges. Tali did not mind, because the friends she had who had long distance loves, always seemed to miss out.
Her father sighed with relief.
"We'll talk kid," Tony said softly. "When your brother goes to bed."
Tali smiled. Thinking of her little brother Leo. He was fourteen, and seemingly untouched by the anxious tension that hummed between Tali and her parents. He was sports obsessed, but also talented with words. Absence had made her love for her annoying kid brother grow fonder.
Four hours later, Tali stood in front of the kitchen island, watching as her mother cooked shakshuka. Her favourite. The DiNozzo family were having something light for dinner, because they were expecting a heavy meal the next day. Her mother hummed as she made dinner by rote.
"I tried to make it for my roomate," Tali declared, as she watched her mother make little wells in the tomato mix, for the eggs. "But it didn't work on the hot plate."
Tali had been untouched by the eating neurosis which plagued many of her high school colleagues. Instead the anxiety tended to cause overeating, packets of chips eaten without thought while the world went by. A second serving of desert, stuffed in until her stomach hurt.
Her parents always made great food, and it was always made with love. She wanted to stuff herself with their love, hoping to banish the dark thoughts.
In her dorm, the other students supplemented their meal plans with chips, and instant noodles. Tali craved her mother's slow cooked stews and fragrant rice.
"It is harder to make on the electric heat," Ziva said, as she placed a lid on the pan. Tali admired her mothers long hair, which was now nearly completely grey but still thick and curly. "If you let the oil heat up before you put the onion in, it might work out better. It will not be perfect."
Tali nodded. She had already settled into convenience food, and cravings.
"I once chose a smaller apartment because it had a gas oven, rather than an electric," Ziva said, as she ran the bread knife over the crusty bread. The crumbs flaked onto the huge wooden chopping board.
Tali's stomach rumbled. She stood stunned. Her mother did not talk of her life before them often. Tali knew bits and pieces, mostly of her mother's childhood. Of the dead Aunt who wanted to be an opera singer, that she was named for. These little glimpses of the life before were so rare and so welcome.
"Really," Tali asked.
"Yes," Ziva said, with a smile. "It was dramatically smaller, but I was single so it did not really matter. Your father came over once and called it a shoebox."
Tali nodded. Having her own apartment seemed like such a grown up thing. So far away.
"Is everything okay, Motek?" Ziva asked. Her voice was laced with concern.
Tali leaned on the island. This worry weighed heavily on her.
"Yes," Tali said softly. "Things are getting better."
The tearful phone calls had tapered off. The frantic texts were less often. The low lying anxiety was manageable.
The stairs from the basement creaked, and her Dad appeared carrying a bottle of wine. Tali watched as a smile dawned on her mother's face when she saw her father. This was love.
"Leo didn't destroy the laundry this time," Tony announced, as he put the bottle of wine of the island. "You know I think he was doing it deliberately to get out of doing it."
"You think?" Tali asked sarcastically, as she leaned over the island to grab a slice of bread.
Tali had heard all about the drama of trying teach Leo how to do laundry, especially since he was producing so much of it. Leo had destroyed multiple loads of washing, but their parents insisted their children know basic life skills before flying the nest. Something Tali was grateful for, now that she had to do her own.
"I guess getting him to pay for the blouse he ruined worked," Ziva declared, as she lifted up the pan, releasing some steam. The fragrant smell filled the kitchen.
Tony reached behind Ziva and picked out three wine glasses from the cupboard.
"Want some?" he asked, as he moved to the island and started to pour. The red liquid filled the glasses.
"I'm not allowed," Tali stuttered. She had only turned eighteen the previous June. Being able to legally drink was three years away.
The previous Spring, when she seemed to be managing her anxiety, she had gone to a party with her friend Preeti. They had drunk, and when Preeti was stumbling and throwing up, Tali had decided to call Tony. Her Dad always came to the rescue. And he did, arriving twenty minutes later with water, and a bucket for Preeti. Her parents had been disappointed, but the severe punishment Tali feared had never eventuated. Preeti, Tali's friend since they were six, had been punished much more severely. Their friendship had never recovered.
"Not in a bar," Tony said, as he took a sip from his glass. "But, you're an adult now You can have a glass of wine with your parents, if you want."
She still felt like a child, playing dress up in her mothers clothes.
Another two hours passed, and the house was quietening down. The dishwasher hummed. Leo was upstairs, supposedly having gone to bed, but there was noise filtering down. Some sort of cartoon, with gross jokes about farts and other gross elements of puberty. He left a basket of clean laundry in his wake.
Tali licked her lip, she had only had one glass of the wine, but it still left a trace on her lips. Her parents had polished off the bottle, and were eating the leftover bread with cheese on top.
"What was it you wanted to talk to us about?" her mother asked. They were still seated around the dining table. It was intimate.
Tali had heard all about both of her parents jobs. Both had chosen a life of service, which had little financial reward. Her mother taught ESL out of the local library, and Hebrew at the local synagogue. Her father worked at a local community centre, in a rough neighbourhood which was close in terms of distance but felt miles away. He coached a basketball team of vulnerable youth, keeping them off the street. A couple of kids had made it into college teams. They were going to share the Thanksgiving table, with some of the people that her parents had worked with. This was always how Thanksgiving worked in their family. Her parents were such bleeding hearts. Perhaps trying to make up for the lack of extended family.
Tali's heart was in her throat. This was the best time to talk, but how could she start this conversation. Her leg jiggled. Her face flushed red. She waited until both her parents put their glasses down, and opened her mouth.
"Is Dad my real Dad?" she finally asked.
Her parents were stunned silent. Her father opened his mouth, but did not say a thing. Her mother blinked quickly, and looked out into the distance, taking event breaths.
"Of course he is your real Dad," Ziva said.
"I know he's my Dad," Tali of all the things her father had done for her. There was always so much love. "I mean biologically."
"Biologically," Ziva said, her voice firm. "He is your father. You two are so similar. How could-"
Tali's eyes bulged with tears. Quickly, her cheeks were wet. How could she think such a thing?
"Why did you think that?" her father asked, his voice softer that her mothers. His eyes were bulging too. It would not be long before they all dissolved into tears.
Tali had hurt them. She had cut them deep.
"There are no pictures of me and Dad until I was like two," Tali said. Revealing what had plagued her thoughts for months now. It had kept her up late, since the dark thought had popped into her head one night. "It just feels like there is some big family secret, that is like always there. I thought it was that Dad wasn't my Dad. I thought that was why you guys always fight around my birthday."
Tali had seen a few photographs of when she was younger. Her and her parents, walking through Paris. There had been a wedding photo taken when Tali was about three, her mother already slightly round with the pregnancy that resulted in Leo. They were back in America then, settling in Illinois. Tali had asked once, why it took them so long to get married, her parents had said they only got married for paperwork. Yet the wore their rings with pride.
"No there are not," Ziva said, with a sniffle. "Remember we told you there was fire."
There were only a handful of photographs of Tali's early life. One of her mother heavily pregnant, in front of some olive groves. Another of a very newborn Tali being held by her mother, with sweat matted hair, and a huge smile. The third picture, was of Tali smashing into a cake, for her first birthday. Those had been stored in the bag they were evacuated with, hence being saved from the fire.
"Ziva," her father hissed to her mother. There was anger in his voice. Tali felt the sting. "We owe her the truth."
Tali felt sick. Her stomach ached. What was this unknown truth.
Her parents looked each other in the eye. A tear slipped down her father's face. Her mother's lip quivered.
"I didn't meet you until you were nearly two," Tony finally said. He let out a breath. Relief.
Her mother turned her head slightly. Looking up at the ceiling, at the dusty ceiling fan. Tali knew she did this when she was sad.
"Why?" Tali asked. "Did he not want me?"
Was all of the overparenting she remembered, him trying to make up for something?
"Of course I wanted you Tali," he father said. "Of course."
"He did not know about you," Ziva interjected. She ran her hand under her eyes, wiping away the tears.
Tali shook her head with confusion. How? Why?
"I don't understand," Tali finally uttered.
It was all such a mess. She had made a mess of everything. Again. Like she always did.
"Your Mom and I," Tony started. "We worked together for eight years. We were partners at NCIS. Friends. Really good friends."
Tali blinked. Her mother had always smiled when her Dad told his stories from his cop days. Tali had thought they might have known each other back then, but not that they worked together. The story had always been that, her parents had been friends for a while, got together one night and then lived somewhat happily ever after. It seemed that story was a little liberal with the truth.
"We were very close," Ziva said, with a sort of half-smile. "Very close."
"We never quite managed to cross the line," Tony continued. "Then your Mom's Dad died, and lots of stuff happened. Ima decided to stop being an NCIS agent, and to go back to Israel. I followed her, I tried to get her to come back with me. I tried really hard."
Her father's voice cracked, even nearly twenty years after the fact, it still hurt.
"Before he left, we spent some time together," Ziva said, picking up the story. "You were conceived. I did not find out until after your father was gone."
Her mother was looking down at her hands. These memories were too much to bare.
"And you didn't tell him for two and half years," Tali asked. Anger had seeped into her voice. How could she? Her father deserved to know. She deserved to have her father.
"No," Ziva said. "I had told him to move on with his life. I did not know how I could disrupt it."
"I would have been there in a second if I had known," Tony said, his voice was heavy. "I didn't even know, and there were half a dozen times where I was second away from booking a flight."
Tali ran her under her nose. It all started to make sense. When she had asked questions about when she was born, or her baby years, her Dad had always deferred to her mother. Her Dad had been obsessive about marking Leo's early life, taking photographs every day. There was almost always a huge blowout fight between her parents in early October.
"I nearly called a few times," her mother said. Tears fell freely. "I had been told, that I would never have children. So I waited. I did not want to call him, and then break his heart by losing you."
Tali sort of understood her mother's reasoning.
There was a rumble between her parents, talk of a trauma that happened long before Tali was born. Her mother always reacted strongly to news stories of sexual assault, and had been insistent that Tali learn how to defend herself, as soon as puberty sprouted in her. Tali asked her why once, as they practiced in the garden. Her mother's voice had drifted far away, and she had said that bad things happen, and you need to be prepared.
"What about when I was born?" Tali asked. "Why didn't you tell him then?"
Hadn't he deserved to know?
"You were a beautiful baby," Ziva said, her voice cracking. "You saved me. I needed you as much as you needed me."
"What do you mean?" Tali asked.
Her mother looked down at her hands. Tali watched as her father reached across. Wrapping his hand in hers. Even as they relived such a difficult time, they remained a united front.
"I was not well," Ziva said. "After my father died. I was not well. It was like I grieved all at once, for everyone I had lost. So much had been taken. I did not know how I would go on."
A fresh set of tears sprung from Tali's eyes. During that difficult summer, her mother had sat outside her door, and promised her she understood. She understood all this pain.
"Your Mom had been through so much," Tony said. "She needed to heal. She needed time."
Even as they relived a difficult period, there was kindness between her parents.
"I regretted not telling your father," Ziva uttered. "I saw so much of him in you, but so much time had passed. I did not know how I would tell him. I called once, and he picked up but before I said anything, I heard this woman's voice in the background. I thought he had finally moved on, like I told him too. I could not ruin all of that."
"I would have been there in a heartbeat," her father said. "Nothing else would have mattered."
"I called one of our friends," Ziva said. Tears flowing freely all over again. "She told me that your father had moved on. She asked me not to ruin it. I promised I would not."
"I never knew that," Tony said. His voice cracking.
"I did not want you to hate her," Ziva said. Tony reached over and wrapped his arm around her. "And, it did not change things."
"What changed when I was two?" Tali asked.
"There was a threat," Ziva said calmly.
"A threat?" Tali asked. This story had more layers, the further they delved.
"My father had been a powerful man," Ziva said, her voice got distant again. "He had enemies even years after his death."
"In Israel everything is way more high stakes," Tony interjected.
They had gone to Israel when Tali was nine. Leo was five, and had been restless on the plane. Tali remembered all the guns in the airport, and that siren that had rung when a bag had been left unattended. She also remembered the beauty, and the olive grove, where they had picked olives right off the tree. The blue sea of Haifa, that was so warm as she ran into it. The ancient city of Jaffa, where they found a little cafe, and spent an afternoon.
"What was he?" Tali asked. "Like an Army General or something?"
Her mother bit her lip. So many secrets were being revealed tonight.
"The Director of Mossad," Ziva replied.
Tali gripped the table. She felt dizzy. Dehydration from the tears. Or because her whole world had been rocked.
"Wait?" she asked. "Like for real."
"Yes," Ziva said. "It made my life complicated, but I still loved my father."
"Did you work for them too?" Tali asked.
It seemed so hard to comprehend. Her boring suburban mother, as Jane Bond. She was always so peaceful. So docile.
"Yes," Ziva said. "Before I moved to America. It feels like two lifetimes ago."
Tali did the math in her head. Her mother had been in her very early twenties when she moved to America. Had she been some sort of child soldier. Like something crazy from one Dad's movies.
"Before you worked with Dad," Tali clarified.
"Yeah," Tony said with a smirk. "She was a real spitfire when we first met. She used to drive like a crazy person."
Maybe, the line her Dad always used about falling in love the moment he met her Mom, wasn't such a lie.
"So, there was threat, and you called Dad?" Tali asked. "And he just forgave you like that."
"It is a little more complicated than that," her father said.
"I did not introduce the two of you," Ziva said. She started crying again. Tali's heart broke all over again. "I wanted too, but it was no safe."
Introduce felt like the wrong word. People were introduced at parties. Fathers and daughters were not introduced. Not casually.
"Your Mom had to lay low for a while," Tony said. "She got someone she trusted to bring you to me. As soon as I saw you, I knew you were mine. My friends at NCIS wanted to do a paternity test, but I knew. You had the DiNozzo grin. You were perfect. I had been feeling so uneasy for those last few years, and then when I saw you it all made sense."
"And, so you just stopped being an NCIS agent?" Tali asked. "For me."
Was there anything her father wouldn't do for her?
"Yeah," Tony said softly. "I had you in my life and nothing else mattered. I needed to get out of DC for a while. So, I took you to Paris for the summer. We had a lot of fun in Paris. I learnt how to be your Dad. I'd always wanted to have kids, but I was getting to an age where I didn't think it would happen."
"And you guys met up," Tali asked.
"Yes," Ziva said. "It was safe again. I needed to see you. I did not know how your father would react. I knew you would be safe and happy with him, but I missed you so much it hurt. I had not seen you for months."
"How did you react?" Tali asked. Directing her eye contact to her Dad.
"I was just glad to see her," Tony said, his eyes were glassy. "You were so excited. You nearly shrieked this little cafe down. All these French people were very disapproving, and muttering into their croissants."
Tali smirked. Her Dad had such a way of painting a picture with words. He had been so good at bedtime stories, when she was small, doing voices for each of the characters. It had been one of her favourite memories of the two of them.
"You weren't angry?" Tali asked.
"I was," Tony said, he looked down at his lap. Unable to look at his family while he admitted the pain he had been in. "I used to be really angry, but it wasn't gonna change anything. I wouldn't risk losing either of you. I had to let it go. I'm glad I did, because none of this would be possible if I hadn't."
If her father could be so zen about all of this, maybe Tali could find peace.
"I was prepared for him to tell me to go," Ziva said. "I had kept you from him. I thought he might want to keep you from me. I was wrong."
"It never crossed my mind," Tony said. Looking up and turning to her. A heavy gaze. One of love. It had always been love.
"It all sorta makes sense now," Tali said. The room felt lighter. Her shoulders weren't so heavy.
"We didn't keep it from you to hurt you," Tony said. "It was all such a crazy mess. We wanted to protect you."
"Please," Ziva whispered. Begging. "Please do not blame your father for this. I caused so much pain. Even all these years later, I am still causing all of this hurt."
Tali got up, and moved closer to her mother, she wrapped her arms around tight. It was a mere few seconds, before her Dad joined them. His arms tight around them. Tali felt warm. Tali felt safe.
"I don't blame either of you. I know you did the best you could," Tali said softly. "I promise."
Her mother let out a sob. It made Tali's chest hurt. Had this been what she felt, during that summer when Tali's world fell apart because of the buzzing in her brain. The dark thoughts. The sense of worthlessness. When her mother held her tight, while she cried. Her mother had always been a distant figure to her, but Tali finally felt that she understood her.
It all made so much sense.
The hug started to loosen. Tali perched on the the chair closest to her mother. Her parents held hands. Presenting a united front.
"If you wanna talk about it some more," her Dad said. "We can. Whenever you want, but please let us tell your brother in our own time."
Tali nodded. She wondered what Leo's reaction to all of this would be. He was born after all the crazy. He was the fourth leg on the chair of their family, stabilizing them. Completing the puzzle.
"We love you more than anything," Ziva said. There was snot on her nose. "Please do not forget that."
All of this had been for her. Her Father had given up his job. Her mother had been ready to hide away, to protect her. All for her.
"Never," Tali promised.
A/N:
I don't own a thing.
I hated the way they ended S13. I'm super angry with the way they treated Ziva. I hated the soap opera storyline, but accept the headcanon that they met up again. However, I wonder how they would have worked together as family, and how Tali would have been told about this part of her early childhood. Family dynamics are complicated, I wanted to explore that, hence this fic.
The anxiety Tali has comes from a personal place, so please be kind.
Also, I wanted to provide more depth to the whole Ziva not telling Tony thing. Hence adding the phone call where Ziva heard Zoe's voice, and Abby telling her Tony had moved on. These two never could get the timing right.
So here we go. Here is the fic, that is the product of all those thoughts. I hope you enjoyed it.