Few people had Leon Vance's very private phone number, and as far as he was concerned it was far too many people who did. He had considered turning off the phone, as the anniversary of his wife's death loomed, as the two most important who had it were asleep just meters down the hall. He felt it buzz, with an unknown foreign number, as the clock slowly ticked to midnight, towards an anniversary he never wanted. He was alone in his study, and had not even pretended to go to sleep, knowing any attempt would be futile.
"Vance," he uttered.
He stared at the amber colored drink in front of him, which he had poured it an hour ago, but had not touched it, knowing that if he let a sip touch his lips, it would not be long before he reached for the bottle. He told himself Jackie would not have wanted that. He had decided a year ago as the doctor said those words, that he could not lose himself, because otherwise who would be there for the kids.
"Leon," Ziva whispered, her voice soft and sad. Vance had suspected it would be her, as soon as he saw the number.
"Ziva," he whispered, as his eyes flicked to the clock and he tried to calculate time difference, assuming she was still in Israel,"Still an early riser."
"Did I wake you?" Ziva whispered, as she sat in her father's farmhouse, for her, sleep had also been futile.
She had woken before dawn, first to settle her stomach, having learnt the hard way that morning sickness was no joke. She hand ended up drinking ginger tea, and staring at old photographs, as the winter sun sat over the farmhouse like a crown. All that was left of her family, lay in photographs, frozen in time. Her eyes rested on a photograph of her as a baby, in Eli's arms, as his youthful face beamed with pure joy.
"I couldn't sleep," Vance admitted, as his eyes drifted to an old photograph of Jackie and the kids. "Not tonight."
"I did not sleep well either," Ziva answered, surveying the floor which was carpeted in photographs, of all she had left. There was a silence between the two of them, as they both struggled with what to say. After a few seconds, which dragged "How are the children?"
"They're," Vance stopped, again struggling what to say. "Well they're."
He had been asked the question even more often as the anniversary approached, mostly by people afraid of asking him, how he was feeling. DiNozzo had even asked him while they were in an elevator. Vance, had been surprised by the question, and the genuine concern, considering DiNozzo had only met the Vance children a handful of times. Of course, it was not until DiNozzo got out of the elevator, that Vance remembered that DiNozzo had been just eight when his own mother died. Grief, had left Vance rather self-absorbed.
"I understand," Ziva answered, as her hand fell to her stomach.
Her mind drifted for a second to the life growing inside of her. She had tried not to think of it too much, still believing the pregnancy was a cruel joke the universe was playing on her, each morning she woke up surprised to find herself still pregnant. She lay in wait, for it all to be taken away, because those who got to close, always got taken away.
Vance swallowed thickly, knowing she did understand what his children were going through. She understood, far too damn well.
"How are you, Leon?" she uttered after a few seconds.
"Well," Leon paused, as yet again in their conversation he struggled with words. Tears pricked his eyes, and his bit his lip, trying to stop them.
He felt he could not tell her that he was still angry, that he still missed his wife every day, and that the tears of his children still haunted him. How he still had dreams, where he refused Eli's request for dinner, and where his wife lived, and they spent that night how Jackie had wanted to. He would never say those things to Ziva, he knew she was just as hurt. He suspected she doubted herself that night too; if she had told Eli to go home as soon as he arrived, if she had told Gibbs earlier, or if she not run after the shooter. Those things would remain unsaid.
"And how are you Ziva?" Vance finally asked. He, nor anyone at NCIS had heard from her before now, even her resignation email had been from a burner email, with instructions to give her last paycheck to charity.
He wondered in recent months, if had been right to not stop her from seeking revenge. He had wanted it as much as her, but he could not chase Bodnar like she could. He wondered now, if that revenge had broken her, in a way that would never be repaired.
"I, I am," she stammered, as her hand stayed rested on her stomach. "Well in the Jewish religion, a year is a big thing in the death of a parent."
Vance doubted, that Ziva had said prayers for the eleven months, but suspected she had minimized her parties and music in recent months, more likely out her self-imposed punishment, rather than Jewish tradition.
"I'm aware," Leon whispered, as he watched the clock finally click to midnight, and sucked in a deep breath.
He knew the children would be sound asleep, for another seven hours, the peace of that sleep he doubted. He knew that when the woke, he would offer them the chance to skip school, as he was not to go into work, and they would spend the day remembering Jackie, in whatever way the kids needed to.
There was a pause, both expected the other to end the call, but neither felt they could.
"How are the team?" Ziva whispered, as tear ran down her face.
"They're," Vance again paused, he knew he should probably not tell her about Parsa, she did not need another demon to haunt her nightmares. "They're well," he finally uttered, "I think they'd appreciate a call from you, though."
The tears ran full stream down Ziva's face. Her spare hand moved from her stomach, as she tried to wipe the tear away, and muffled a sob.
"Tell me," Ziva whispered as she got the tears under control, "How is Tony?"
"Agent DiNozzo," Vance paused again, he opened his mouth as he tried to come up with something to say. Professionally DiNozzo was as competent as ever, but personally there was a sadness in his eyes. Vance had heard rumors of DiNozzo's bout of insomnia just before Halloween, and suspected that it was all to do with Ziva. "Well, he's getting there,"
"Good," Ziva whispered, as her hand fell to her stomach. It seemed like a natural place to rest it, as she thought of Tony.
Still each day, she wrestled with whether to tell him, she had wanted a clean break, believing it better for him. The child inside of her would not permit that, they would be forever connected. Even, if the universe took the child away, punishing her for crimes, they would forever had known what had been lost. Tony did not deserve that, she had decided. Yet, she knew if the child lived, Tony would never forgive her, for not letting him know of its existence.
"I suspect he would really like a call from you," Vance uttered the honesty of his comment surprised him.
His eyes fell to his favorite picture of him and Jackie, a candid one taken at their wedding, the two were staring into each others eyes, as the stress of the day fell away from them. To his surprise, he found himself thinking of Ziva and DiNozzo, he would have never approved of the two having a relationship, while working together, but now he could not deny they shared a connection, and life was too short to ignore those connections.
"Thank you, Leon," Ziva whispered, "Good night,"
Before the words had a chance to register in his brain, the phone line disconnected. He thought about calling back, but knew that she would not answer, and that within hours the number would be a dead one.
He heard shuffling by his study, and watched as Kayla opened the door, with Jared trailing behind her, both kids were in the pajamas but clearly awake, having spent hours tossing and turning. Vance got up and moved toward them, as the three of them hugged, not knowing what else to do. Tears finally fell down Leon's face, as he felt the warm tears of his children.
Half the world away, Ziva wiped what she promised herself would be her last tear for the day, she packed up her photographs, and she dialed Tony's number half a dozen times, but never called it.