all too sore for sound, a ncis fanfic

/haven't posted here in a while but then again, I haven't written these two in a while either. wow I forgot how shitty the spacing and formatting is here. cross posted from a03 and written amongst the shrapnel that was 11.02/

You try to say I left my heart in Israel but it gets choked by the words you can't express; how her hand on your cheek felt like salvation, felt like forgiveness, felt like she kissed me but not goodbye.

You left your heart in Israel and it is trapped in an ornate box under freshly turned earth. It sits and waits for someone to return to it, alone amongst apple trees and birds. It feels the breeze on the dirt it is under, feels the feathers of the birds, smells the sweetness that gathers like whispering girls in a school yard. You left your heart with a list that says I want to be a ballerina on one side and You cannot erase, only atone. on the other.

You try to say I left my heart in Israel, but she is so much more than your tired heart can hope to be, so much more than five letters can encompass, so much more than muscle, blood, organs. You wouldn't just dismantle yourself for her but the whole world, hell, you would dismantle the stars if it meant you could kiss her again; a kiss like the sunlight, kiss like a flood, kiss like the way your hand had looked opening her childhood front door.

You left pieces of yourself in Israel, buried under the solitude of apple trees and tasting of the ocean. You have one hand in DC holding work and the other in Israel, not holding onto her but onto the shredded piece of your chest like it's a bullet wound, like there's shrapnel inside you and you're fine, but metal sits deep under your skin. You're in pain but it's the only piece of her you have, so you wear it around your neck like it's not still covered in your blood.

You left Ziva in Israel, your cheek still burning from how she had touched you; her hands finding purchase on your skin and feeling like home, her lips as sweet as apples. You think Gibbs will know the second you land but for now your heart is as high as the plane you are in, is as vast as any ocean, is tied down and in a dark box but just for now, it's just for now, you hope it's just for now.

You have pieces of Israel deep in your skin and it's not just the sharp of her necklace but the dirt you dug up with her, the coffee in two ceramic cups, the wind carrying the scent of apples. You have her deep in your skin too; her barely hidden scent of the ocean, the soft warmth of her skin soaking into you, her eyes not dark enough to hide her emotions, the words you carefully put in the space you now have between your ribs. The words cut in and sit there clumsily but you desperately hold onto them, onto the way her eyes looked when she said them; eyes as bright as windows, eyes as hard as the earth, eyes as soft as You are so, loved.

You dismantled yourself in Israel and watched as she stacked the pieces amongst her own ones. You are a puzzle that is stuck on violence and her pieces have been burnt away to leave earth that could grow so much. She is dismantling herself and each piece being is examined for pieces of anyone else. Her father has a huge pile and you sit with her the whole afternoon helping her word things she can't, helping her word Your body will no longer be a tool for anyone, helping these pieces of herself drift away until her body is less bowed, less broken, less being tossed around by the ocean. You didn't mean to make her moment about you but she paused, blushed, wrote I want to dance, underneath You do not need weapons, and your heart tore itself apart. You didn't mean to make her moment about you but she patted the dirt down on top of your still beating heart and in her hands was the emptiness of atonement. It's startling how fast it hits you, that you love this woman, that you would do anything for her, that you would dismantle the world, that you would dismantle yourself. When she pulls close to you, her mouth so close to yours, your chest feels like the sky above you, feels like waves crashing through you and leaving seeds of apple trees in their wake. You feel weak and like you are about to tear yourself apart but you can feel her skin and it feels like change, like growing, like apple trees blossoming.

You left Israel with the fire of her lips on yours and didn't let it consume you. You left Israel and she kissed you but not goodbye and you keep repeating those words in your head until they sound more certain. She kissed you and you wanted to touch every inch of her, map every inch of her until you know that you will never forget her, but there are planes waiting and tears to swallow down so you pull away, kiss her once more so you can breathe again.

You left her and it was the hardest thing you have done. You left her with tears down her face like the ocean and her hands clasped together like the earth. You know your heart isn't buried in the ground but held by the woman you walked away from, held by the woman you would dismantle the world for, held by the woman you love.

You repeat she kissed me but not goodbye until it sounds like the truth and by then the words are stale in your mouth. Instead, you hold on to her necklace until the metal is warm and say, her hands were apple trees and in her kiss is the difference between house and home.