Ok, so I'm listening to Life After you by Daughtry. Good song. Listen to it. It kinda inspired this.
This is a multi chapter fic centering around Tony's thoughts of Ziva supposedly dying. Next chapter will be up soon. I'm sorry if it depresses anyone. But it's happier in the next chapters. This is a little different writing style then I usually do so review and tell me how you like it:D
Oh, btw I wrote this is PUPcat, I am officially in love with this font. It's awesome!
Shock:
The ship went down in a storm. There were no survivors.
No survivors.
No ziva.
.
.
.
What?
No, this isn't right.
Denial.
Ziva, dead. No, those two words do go together. They don't make sense.
There's no way a ship went down with Ziva on it. There's no way she didn't make it.
She's not dead. No, she's alive. She made it.
She's safe. Alive.
Maybe she didn't get on the boat. Maybe she got on a lifeboat, swam to shore. Maybe she was rescued by some other ship. Maybe a dragon flew down from the heavens and swooped her up before the ship went down. Ok, so maybe the last one's a little far fetched but she's not dead.
She's alive. She's breathing.
Anything but dead.
Maybe the ship didn't go down. Maybe it's a cover up.
Maybe...
Maybe...
Maybe...
That's the magic word.
But right now. It's the only word keeping me sane.
And with that, my cycle has begun.
The cycle that I go through every time I lose someone. Shock and Denial;
That's how it starts.
I got home late. 2300. I put my gun and badge down on the table. Like I did every night. I sat down on the couch.
Toni came running from my room. she put her small paws on my knees. I smiled and patted the space on the couch next to me. That was the signal that she could come on. she jumped up, licked my face; while I rubbed her ears. She was a good listener, always followed the rules, she was loyal, cute, just like her previous owner.
I sighed as I noticed the pictures on the fireplace. I got up. Walked towards them. I picked up the one that caught my eye immediately.
Ziva.
It was a great picture of her, it really was. Abby took it. For her phone contact. The way the light was shining made her chocolate brown eyes sparkle. She was beautiful, no she is beautiful. Yea, I guess I'm still in a little bit of denial.
I took the picture out of the frame and walked back to the couch, sat down.
I stared at the four mountainous stacks of DVDs that surrounded my tv. Movie nights. Our movie nights. I missed them. Every Tuesday. It was just a routine. She came over to my house or I came to her house. I brought the movie and she cooked. But then they stopped. When Michael came to town. Michael. He's the reason for all of this.
Questions and what ifs:
What If I didn't have to kill Michael? Ziva wouldn't have been mad at me. She wouldn't have not trusted me. She wouldn't have stayed in tel aviv. She wouldn't have gotten on that ship. She wouldn't have died.
But what if I had let Michael kill me? Would Ziva have been happier with that? Would she have gone on to have a life with Michael? If I had died in Michael's place she wouldn't have had to go to tel aviv. She wouldn't have decided to stay there. She wouldn't have gone on the doomed ship. She wouldn't have died. She would have been alive.
Did I love her?
Yeah I did. Not completely sure if it was a romantic love but I loved her.
I loved her. I loved her sparkling brown eyes. I loved her small smirky-smile. I loved the way she smelled, like vanilla, she used the perfume I gave her last Christmas. I loved her crooked nose. I loved Her dark brown hair, especially when it was down; I loved her pointed hairline. I loved her voice, sweet yet stern. I loved that she poured her heart out into every case. I loved that she was a hard worker. I loved that she put up with me. I loved the way she was so strong and fierce one minute then gentle and loving the next.
I loved her.
I cared about her.
Missing her:
She was a woman.
She was a daughter.
She was a sister.
She was a friend.
She was a lover.
She was an assassin.
She was a liaison.
She was an agent.
She was my friend.
She was a crazy ninja chick.
She was my sweetcheeks.
She was a fighter.
She was my partner.
She was.
I kept looking at the dvds. I had memorized every title, ever director, actor, line of each movie. She had promised we'd watch every movie together. We only watched 12.
Depression:
I took the picture in my hand and gently rubbed my finger over her face.
I got up. Walked towards the table and picked up my gun.
I sat back down on the couch.
Took the gun and played around with it. Gently tossing it from one hand to the other. Twisted it around.
Then I faced the gun.
I looked down at the picture of Ziva and smiled. She smiled back, she didn't have a choice. But I did.
I looked into the barrel, into the deep abyss of the barrel.
And pulled the trigger.
***
Mwhahahahahaha! Cliff hanger!
Sorry I'm in a really evil/depressed mood. Midterms do that to me. I promise the next chapter will be up ASAP! Maybe even later tonight. Put me on story alert and review. I want to see your thoughts and ideas! And the more reviews, the faster the chapter comes up!