Bottom of the River

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: She fled through the desert; the rough terrain tearing at the skin of her feet, leaving a ribbon of red for the hunters to trace. She skidded to a stop, after hours of running, to the banks of a river. Shabelle. She stood at the banks of the Shabelle; a glance back brought the sound of gunshots. She had two options. And neither looked pleasing. Except she had the option of dying on her terms. Taking a deep breath, she took one shaky step into the waiting belly of the Shabelle. AU-Truth and Consequences. Pre-written one-shot, 2012.

He had left her to die, his own daughter.

Sent her on a mission that he knew would cost her her life-

And when she'd been captured in Somalia, he'd turned his back on her.

It had been a stroke of dumb luck that had allowed her to break free of the ropes that restrained her and flee; she'd been making her way through the Somalian desert for the last week, picking her way through the dirt and desolation, avoiding villages and small towns, stealing what she could from travelers passing through on the way towards the coastal cities. And with her survival skills, she'd managed to survive this long-

The rough terrain tore at her feet as she ran, leaving ribbons of red for the hunters to trace; the sound of gunshots, shouting, could be heard, and she knew Saleem had sent men after her, for she was only valuable so long as she could provide what he desired. He wouldn't stop until she'd given up information on her team back at NCIS.

But she'd die first, rather than give up anything on her family back in D.C.

Family. Right. A family would fight for you, steal for you, save you. Where is yours?

She stumbled, slamming into the ground and skidding, tearing up her chin and knocking the breath out of her.

They're back in D.C., probably believing you to be dead. Which, considering the circumstances, you might as well be.

It took a few moments, but finally she picked herself up and pushed on. The moonlight lit her way as she continued to pick her way through the desert terrain, being careful to remain quiet so as not to draw any more attention to herself that she already had. She could hear the shouts of the men, feel the rage in the air that their prisoner had escaped, could taste death as it closed in on her.

She continued on, praying silently for a way out of this...

Hell, for this was truly Hell on Earth.

Eventually, she skidded to a stop at the banks of a river. It swelled and flowed before her, its rushing body calling to her, begging her to join it. It's deep blue seemed to mesmerize her, reach for her, asking for her to take up residence within its deep, lurking depths. Her head snapped behind her; she could hear the shouts of the men as they stumbled about searching for her. The great roar of the river yanked her head back towards it, and her stomach dropped.

Was this what the African slaves felt when they fled from their masters? Pure, unadulterated fear? Being forced to face the choice between going back to the hands of their power-hungry masters or dying freely, even at the mouth of a river?

The voices were getting louder, gunshots getting closer.

Even the slaves had a choice of dying on their own terms.

She took a deep breath, realizing that she had no choice; if she returned to Saleem and the terrorist camp, he'd certainly kill her, especially if she refused to give up what she knew about NCIS. He'd kill her on his terms. Not on hers.

But this-

If she could die on her terms, she would be keeping NCIS and everyone she knew and loved safe.

The voices were getting louder, closer.

She took a deep breath, stepping towards the bank of the river, and slowly, slid a foot in. It was cold, murky, and seemed to swallow her foot whole. Her heart began to pound faster and harder, slowly making her descent into the flowing water. The ever-present chill ripped a gasp from her throat, and she glanced back, fearful that they'd heard her.

For now, she was safe.

She turned back, watching the murky depths as they welcomed her, inviting her, an endless mouth singing praises as she joined it. She swallowed; what had she learned when McGee took her up to Salem that weekend they'd had off rotation? She'd loved the quaintness of the old village, how the history seemed to seep out of the very cobblestones beneath her feet and into the air. They'd watched a mock trial of the accused witches, and she'd marveled at how the girls had writhed on the floor, screaming that they were being pinched and tortured by the spectres of the women standing trial within the courtroom. She'd stared in amazement as the 'court' had allowed the spectral evidence and sentenced the women to hang unless they admitted to witchcraft and gave up the names of the other witches within the 'Devil's book'. McGee had explained to her that one of the many 'tests' an accused witch went through involved being dunked in the nearby river; if she sank, she was innocent, if she floated, she was guilty.

"That is ridiculous, Tim?"

"How do you mean, Ziva?"

"What if they knew how to swim?"

He'd stared at her, a look of contemplation crossing his features and filling his green eyes, before he shook his head. "Then they swam."

As the water rose to her knees, her thighs, her waist, she prayed the river would take her whole being, hiding her within for as long as needed. The voices and shots got louder, closer. Her heart continued to pound.

Her ribs, her breasts, her shoulders.

The beating of her heart shifted as it dropped into her stomach; soon, the water reached her neck, and she had to force restraint to keep from swimming across.

At least if you drown, you will die free, on your own terms.

A shaky breath escaped her throat as she stepped further out-

Her foot slipped, and she gasped in shock as the water finally yanked her under the surface; it filled her lungs, choking out her screams, and she fought, as was her instinct, to reach the surface, but the current was too strong.

Her body was found weeks later, dredged up by a fisherman.

"Hold my hand
Ooh, baby, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river
Hold my hand
Ooh, baby, it's a long way down, a long way down"

- Delta Rae

Carry the Fire album

2012