A/N: This was written a few days after I read the news that I'm sure most of you have seen. Just a quick one shot. Hope you read and review. Title from Mumford & Sons.
But the ghosts that we knew made us black and all blue
But we'll live a long life
And the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view
And we'll live a long life
Few things in Tony's life caused that gut dropping sense of shock. That wasn't to say that things didn't surprise him or make the hair on the back on his neck stand up in dread, but the sorta shock that hit him when he was eight years old and realized that his mother would never ever be coming home again didn't happen with much frequency anymore.
One could say that it was due to the rapidly developing apathy that he was acquiring but Tony knew it had more to do with the fact that Tony felt too old to still be a middle aged man.
So when Tony knocked Ziva's door two months after they had voluntarily surrendered their badges to Vance, Tony decided that life was a cruel, cruel mistress.
And it wasn't like Tony didn't know what happening the moment the door was opened. He had played the leaving card way to many times in his life to know what it looked like. He just hadn't felt what it felt like to be left in so long he was having a small existential crisis.
Was this really his life?
"Tony," Ziva said with the sorta frown that Tony knew meant she hadn't been expecting him at the door that morning.
"I came," Tony started, stopped and tried to start again but he couldn't. The words were stuck in his throat, much like his heart.
He must have given it away, shown that he knew what she didn't want anyone to know but it was too late.
Tony always had a problem with wearing his heart on his sleeve for the people he loved.
"This is not a good time," Ziva stated, plainly.
Of course it isn't a good time, Tony tried to respond. Leaving is best done in the cloak of darkness under an new moon.
"Were you going to say goodbye?" Tony finally managed to spit out, now that his heart was no longer lodged in his throat.
It was on the floor instead, breaking and shattering into small little pieces.
Tony finally understood that no matter how broken you through you were, it could always, always, get worse.
"I had not decided."
Oh Ziva, Tony wanted to say, Ziva no. Ziva stop.
But Tony didn't say anything. He just stood there, the bag of pastries that he had picked up as a "friendship" gift feeling like a ton of bricks in his hand.
"I see," Tony blinked. And took a breath. Take a breath DiNozzo, he mental chanted, DiNozzo's do not pass out. They do not crumble. They do not, do not, fall apart when someone leaves.
"Tony," Ziva tried to reach for his shoulder but Tony carefully took a step back on legs that he was slowly starting to feel again.
"When do you leave?" Tony asked, knowing that he had avoided her hand because she had let him and that he wished she wouldn't have.
"Tomorrow."
"Make sure you tell Abby," Tony said, handing the pastries over, knowing he wouldn't be able to eat for hours, "Or I will."
And then he turned on heel, doing the sort of 180 that would have made Gibbs, wherever he was, proud.
And when he hit the button on the elevator, he looked back at Ziva standing in her doorway and tried not to cry.
Ziva had called Abby a few hours later and the forensic scientist had proceeded to have a small emotional breakdown on Tony's couch after she had practically teleported there.
Tim had come over a few minutes later, being summoned by a quick text from Tony's phone, and Tony had retreated to his study to let McGee console their friend.
Ziva was on her way, to say goobye to everyone. Gibbs was still in the wind and there was a small part of Tony that was grateful he didn't have to deal with Gibbs when Ziva finally left.
Ziva had arrived as promised a few minutes later and was hugged and cried over like Tony knew she would be, but Tony couldn't. He could barely look at her, without that feeling as if he were slowly drowning, or being suffocated, each breath drawing less and less oxygen to keep him alive.
This was worse than when he thought she was dead.
She had been dead, gone and it hadn't been her fault that she couldn't be with them.
But now she was leaving and that was worse than death because despite everything, every single thing they had been through, Tony would always know that she could have stayed and had chosen to leave instead.
Arraignments were made for Tony to drop her off at the airport, as both McGee and Abby actually had jobs in the morning. Tony, who had a ridiculously cheap rent and nonexistent car payment each month, could live comfortably off his savings and investments for another three months before he's start sweeting it, hadn't bothered to take the desk job that Vance had offered while the official investigation into their team continued.
McGee had been "loaned" to the IT department until he could gain his security clearance again and Ziva had…been apparently doing some fishy stuff with the CIA. Or NSA. Or whoever she was choosing to follow halfway across the world.
But somehow Tony had been volunteered to take Ziva to the airport in morning for her flight and Tony had agreed. It wasn't like he could say no. Abby or McGee would have never forgiven him.
A few hours into their impromptu goodbye dinner, Jimmy and Ducky showed up.
They stayed eating and talking for a few more hours until Ziva politely made her exit, claiming her long day of traveling the next day as her excuse to leave.
Tony promised to be there two hours before her flight was scheduled to leave.
After Ziva left, Abby was driven home by McGee and everyone else made their quiet exit, leaving Tony home alone in the empty apartment that would never hear Ziva's voice again.
As promised, Tony was on time. He idled outside her apartment building and for a gut wrenching moment, he figured she had left without him.
Again.
But five minutes later the feeling of shock wore away and out came Ziva, a carry on suitcase clutched in one hand and a backpack in the other.
Tony didn't want to say anything, not yet, as she placed her suitcase in the trunk of his car and got in. Checking his mirrors, Tony quietly shifted into drive, keeping his mouth shut.
If he opened his mouth he would pour his soul out to her again and he didn't feel like he wanted it to get trampled over twice in his lifetime.
An hour later, thanks to traffic, Tony was pulling up to the drop zone in front of Dulles.
Please don't leave. Please stay. Don't go.
But Tony didn't open his mouth as he opened the trunk and pulled out her suitcase for her. His one last act for her.
Tony tried to smile but failed because he could feel the expression turn sour on his face almost as soon as he tried. In the months since their voluntary "probation" Tony hadn't talked much with neither McGee nor Ziva. He had figured he'd have time later. He hadn't seen it coming and because of that, he hadn't seen her in weeks before he had dropped by unannounced yesterday.
"Tony, for those things you said," Ziva started and Tony finally couldn't stop himself.
He reached forward and pulled her tight, her backpack stuck between them and her suitcase tipping over on the concrete.
"I never regretted one moment with you," Tony said, biting his lip hard to keep from crying, "Not one. And I've done this before Ziva. When we let go, don't you dare look back."
The hug lasted a few more seconds, and Tony tried to memorize how she smelled, how she felt in his arms, how her hair brushed up against his face.
"Don't look back," Tony said releasing her from the hug.
And Ziva looked at him for a moment before understanding appeared in her eyes. She knew. Just like he did. As much as they wished, there would be no keeping in touch for them. There would be no traded emails, no phone calls at odd hours of the night.
That was for other people, not for them. Never for them.
"Goodbye my little hairy butt," Ziva said fondly, her eyes tearing up. But like Tony, she would not allow herself to cry.
"Goodbye sweet checks." Tony smiled this time, a true smile. Not the sort of smile he would have flashed to flirt, but a small sad smile that only a few people on the earth would ever see.
They looked at each other for a few more seconds, each trying to soak up each details of the other person, trying to say goodbye in their own way.
But then the time came for Ziva to sling her backpack on her shoulders and pick up her carryon. The rest of her stuff would be shipped later, Tony knew. Thus the efficiency of government agencies.
Goodbye, Tony thought, watching her turn around and start her long and solitary walk into the airport.
And before Ziva was totally out of site, Tony turned away. Taking the few steps he needed to get back into his car, Tony opened the door and place the key in the ignition. With a quick glance out his left window, Tony pulled into traffic.
And he didn't look back.