Title: A Visit From Beyond
Pairing: None.
Rating: K+
Genre: Gen
Cat: Angst, Character Study, Drabble, Drama
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Character Death (yes, I actually did it).
Summary: He is gone, but always in her heart.
Author's Note: So I don't normally do character death, but I had the idea for this in my head and it kept nagging at me, so I decided to write it, just to see if I could and what would happen. It didn't turn out exactly how I expected, but I think it works.


It's been a week, and the sense of loss is still raw and hangs heavy in the air. Everyone has noticed the change in atmosphere, and each of those closest to him is handling it in his or her own way.

Director Vance gave the rest of the team time off, but they all insisted on staying at work, needing the distraction, saying it's what McGee would have wanted. And they're right. He would have done the same had it been one of them. But it wasn't, and it's too late to wonder what could have been.

Gibbs is even quieter than usual, his eyes holding the sorrow he doesn't say aloud, but when he does speak to his team, his words are gentle; he knows how much Tim meant to them all. Tony hides behind a mask of wisecracks and false smiles, refusing to cry except when he's alone in his apartment at night. Even then, he prefers to drown his sorrows, literally, and likes to pretend the whole thing never happened in the first place.

No one has been able to get through to Abby, not even Gibbs, not that he's even really tried. They all knew she'd be like this – in hysterics at first, and now bouncing back and forth between over-caffeinated workaholic and bursting into tears at the slightest mention of anything to do with him.

Ducky and Palmer seem to be handling the loss the best of everyone, but autopsy is much quieter than normal these days, and the day of the autopsy, only necessary words were spoken.

Out of everyone, though, it is Ziva who is taking it hardest. On the outside, to anyone looking in, she appears unaffected, almost emotionless. But to the team, they see the walls she's let down start to be rebuilt, so no one can see how much she really cares.

She waits until everyone else has left for the night before shutting down her computer and looking over to what was McGee's desk. His possessions have been removed, packed up and sent to his family, but it's impossible to look over and not picture him sitting there, typing away at his keyboard. The thought brings a smile to her face, but is just as quickly interrupted by tears. She doesn't like crying in front of the others, though she was not able to help it at the funeral, but sometimes the urge happens so fast at work that she finds herself in an abandoned stairwell or an empty conference room, somewhere no one will interrupt, though she knows no one blames her or questions her often empty desk while everyone else works.

But no one can possibly know just how much she is hurting. He wasn't just a co-worker to her, he was her friend. He was a very good friend, and he always had her back, always trusted her, was always there for her when she needed someone and it seemed everyone else had given up faith.

A tear runs down her cheek, but she doesn't bother to wipe it away, since she is the only one there at the moment. She pushes herself to her feet and walks over to his desk, hesitating for a moment before running her fingers over the empty surface.

"I should have told you more often," she says, her voice barely audible. "How much I appreciated you, how lucky I was to have you in my life. And I should have told you, period, how much I cared about you, how much I still do." She lets out a deep breath. "When everything else in my life was upside down, you were always you, reliable and comfortable, and I took advantage of that. In hindsight, I know how wrong it was, how if I could go back, I would tell you every day how worthy you are, of friendship, of being loved. . ." A soft smile graces her lips. "I know, this all sounds surprising coming from me, but you know, you all changed me. You all made it possible to open up and share my feelings, and it was you especially who made me realize it was safe to do that. You made me feel like I was home." She sighs and her voice drops to a whisper. "I love you, Timothy McGee. And don't you forget it."

Ziva returns to her desk then, picking up her backpack and leaving the bullpen. It is still so fresh in her mind, how none of them will ever see him again, but saying her feelings out loud lifts a weight from her heart. And as she climbs into bed that night, she feels a warmth wrap itself around her and she smiles to herself, able to rest silent for the night, because she knows. . .

He is with her, and he knows.

THE END