A/N: I have not written anything in ages, and since the last time I wrote anything I have become a huge fan of NCIS. I felt like writing a short story, so I wrote this. My first time posting an NCIS fiction. It's not the best, but it was just something I randomly wrote. A free write of sorts.

Disclaimer:
Me: I totally own NCIS !
Gibbs: Don't lie.
Me: -Steals his coffee-
Gibbs: -Handcuffs her- Never lie to me, AND never mess with a marine's coffee if you want to live.
Me: Okay... I don't own NCIS. :(

It had been exactly a year since her horrible experience in Somalia and Ziva David was still trying to put some of the darkest days of her life behind her. She was still bitter, and angry that her father had sent her off on what would have been a suicide mission if it had not been for Team Gibbs. One year since McGee and Tony risked their lives and Gibbs killed Saleem. One year since she returned to NCIS.

One year is a lot of time when one really thinks about it, but to Ziva the time flew by. After a while she carried on as normal, but the scars would always be with her. Not the physical ones, but the emotional ones. She never talked about what had happened, and she prefered things to stay like that. Ziva would ignore anyone who tried to ask her anything at all about what took place in Somalia. She was indeed, damaged goods.

Sometimes she did want to talk about her experience, but she wasn't even sure who she could really vent to. Everyone viewed her as strong and resilient and she didn't want that view of her to change. Yet she felt like she was going to scream, and that even though it was a whole entire year ago, the thought of Somalia still made her want to burst at the seems. Ziva wanted to cry, cry like she did when Gibbs couldn't remember and she had told him about Ari- how she had killed her own brother.

"Do not be silly, Somalia is in the past now." Ziva muttered to herself.

Or was it in the past? It sure did not feel like the past, the wounds still felt fresh. She wanted to just forget all of it. Force her mind to just forget Saleem and his people, and just pretend that she had never left NCIS for all of that time. That she had gone back with Gibbs and the team instead of staying back in Tel Aviv.

She got ready for work, not bothering with breakfast and headed down to her car. She drove to work in dead silence, parking her car in the usual spot. Tony and McGee were not there, but Abby and Gibbs were. You could spot Abby's herse from a mile away, and Gibbs' parking spot was indeed occupied. She walked in to the NCIS building and head up to the bull pen.

"Good morning, Gibbs." she says, greeting her boss who was seemingly attatched to his coffee at the current moment, while reading a paper.

"David." he greets her. "You're early."

"Or perhaps everyone else is just late."

"That too."

Ziva sits down at her desk, turning on her computer and stares blanky ahead at the screen monitor.

"Ziver, we are going to the conference room. Now." Gibbs gets up, and waits for her, expecting her to follow.

"What is there in the conference room?"

"Don't ask questions, just come."

Ziva sighs and gets up, following Gibbs to the conference room. He sits down on one side of the table and she sits down opposite to him.

"Can I get you anything, water or maybe a coffee?"

"Why are you offering me a drink?" she raises an eyebrow, "Am I in trouble?"

"I have a heart, Ziva."

"You ask me to come to the conference room and then offer me a drink. I am going to be suspicious of something, Gibbs."

He pauses, and looks her in the eye, "It's been a year, Ziva."

Ziva was almost expecting this. Of course he would try and worm information out of her by using the whole 'it's been a year, and you need to talk about it with someone' thing.

"Yes, I am aware that it has been a year, Gibbs."

"You know that if you need someone to talk to, I will listen."

"I do not need anyone to talk to, Gibbs. I am fine, Somalia does not bother me. It is all but a faint memory in my mind." Ziva lies.

"Ziva..."

She stood up and started to pace, her mind was conflicted. After a year it was really starting to become way too much. A year was not enough time to heal the pain, or to make her forget. A year was just a small amount of time. 365 days, 52 weeks, 12 months, 8760 hours. She bit her lip, and turned around to face Gibbs and she felt the emotions explode. Finally, Somalia, Saleem and his friends had caught up to her.

Gibbs hugs her, "We're here for you, Ziver. We always were."