Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.
Opening Notes:This was an experimental fic, one that explores some Ziva-Kate relations. Not AU, Caitlyn is dead, and this little fic takes place somewhere post-Somalia, in which our Ziva does some serious soul searching. Give me some feedback, I may be editing and reposting this one somewhere down the line.
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It was raining.
Ziva drew her arms tightly around herself, before letting them drop to her sides. Her eyes kept reading the marble in front of her over and over, rereading the name of the soul being mourned today. No one was around, and it was right around dawn. Normally, she'd be going into work, but no one would be missing her today.
Today was not about her.
There was one day every year that her entire team withdrew on. She knew, from experience, that the team she was blessed to be a part of was so good because of how tightly they were bonded. Heart to heart, as much as the Mossad training in her despised it. The dynamic, the spark, the chemistry they shared was because they bore all to each other. Even if it was disgustingly painful, and made her feel extremely weak to do so. It was getting better, but that was not the point.
On this day, five years ago, her team, her family lost one of its members. And while this loss had just slightly predessed her appointment to their team, she felt their raw emotions as if she had died yesterday. This day, was Ziva's least favorite day of the year. Not because it was the day she had been dragged forcefully into the mission - and life choice that had not only caused her to shoot her brother, but to go along with her father's plans like a pawn, and essentially play the people she came to know and love for fools. How could she even stand to be in the same room as them? And after everything they had done for her? Ziva inhaled deeply, willing back tears, though the effort would be futile.
It was apparent that someone had been here already.
The ex-Israli sighed, knowing well that she would be in deep trouble when Gibbs realized she was not coming to work. Her cell phone was in her purse, discarded on the ground beside her, collecting raindrops from a dull grey sky. Gibbs was always angry on the this anniversary. Angrier than on any of his ex-wives, and considerably just as angry on the anniversary of Jenny's death. Shannon and Kelly's deaths were mysterious, no one knew the exact date, but Gibbs was never there for four days at the end of June. She assumed, but would never breathe a word about it.
Tony and McGee usually never noticed her today, and all the anniversaries past. They usually just stared through her, at the desk, solemly, sadly, and it made Ziva's skin crawl. She would never be, could never be what Kate was. Even Gibbs would look longingly at the desk once or twice, careful not to be noticed, but Ziva's ninja skills and training in observation made her constantly alert. She knew, even if she only caught him turning away.
She felt sick.
Her eyes traced the inscription on the granite stone, grinding them into her memory. She caused this. If she and her family hadn't come into their lives, they would all be happy, laughing, celebrating another wonderful, beautiful day. Tears came to her eyes. Why did she always have to mess things up?
She collected herself, after a moment.
"I am sorry," Ziva mumbled quietly, feeling the sun just barely try to peer out around the horizon. It was a brilliant dark orange light, that forced the sky to rumble angrily, and more rain to pour from the sky. "This never should have happened, Caitlyn."
She continued speaking, tears pouring down her face, as the rain began to slow.
"If I could, I would trade places you. You are terribly missed. I did not get to know you, and I know what a shame it was. They really love you, Kate. And I, I may not have been fully aware at the time, but I am glad I was able to avenge your death. You deserve so much more than that," she sniffed. "If I could, I would give it all to you."
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The sun was just barely beginning to rise when Rachel passed through the cemetary gates, noting that they were surprisingly open before the cemetary itself was supposed to be. She had planned to slip through a break in the landscaping, but this worked too. A bouquet of flowers were in her hand, her sister's favorite, and she walked with a sense of purpose.
Today, after all, was the anniversary of her baby sister's death.
It never should have happened. Rachel sighed as she thought, after all she had been so angry for so long, unable to understand why some bastard thought her baby sister was a good target to hurt NCIS. She had been there for so short of a time, why would her death stop them? They had plenty of other teams. Sure, she knew her baby sister was good at her job, but hell, there were better. Not that she wished death on anyone, she just wished it off her own flesh and blood.
Her feet took her in the right direction automatically. So many times had she come to her sister's resting place, sometimes happy, sometimes sad. For a long time, she had gone three times a week. After that, one. Sometimes, now, life was so busy, she'd be lucky if she had time once a month to see Kate without there being a catastrophic incident in her life that made her want to channel her guardian angel for help, for strength.
For whatever she could give.
"Sorry I'm taking forever, little sis, this weather really sucks," She spoke aloud. "Almost there," she continued. Just down the hill, next to a beautiful flowering tree, was her sister's grave. As she took to the top of the hill, she stopped.
Someone else was already there.
And either they were short, or they were on their knees.
Rachel stopped, peering carefully through the rain. Yup, that was definitely her sister's grave site. But Kate had no friends in town that looked like that. Hell, Kate had no friends in general with wild dark curls and bronze skin. So who was this woman? And why was she on her knees, with a bunch of flowers clenched tightly in her right hand?
She scanned her memory, trying to think of everyone she had met at the funeral. She didn't remember anyone matching this description, so she took a few paces down the hill. As the person came into a clearer view, she took shelter in a white gazebo halfway down the hill, with flowers left in tribute to loved ones lost shielding her frame from being seen by whoever it was mourning her sister.
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It was now nine-thirty. Tony looked down at his watch, tapping it slightly. "Timmy, is it nine-thirty or am I in the a time warp?"
"No, it's nine thirty, and still no Ziva." Tim looked over his computer to Gibbs who was on his cell phone.
"Ziva, call me. Now."
Tim and Tony exchanged glances. She was breaking rule three, real bad. Gibbs had apparently called her seven times since six-thirty, when he came in. Usually, she was at work by six am, working and reworking angles on a case. At first, he called out of curiousity, and possibly compassion. The rest of the team wasn't in yet, and Gibbs did have a knack to be un-Gibbs-like when he was alone.
When the clock struck seven, on the dot, Tony had come in, already on his cell phone when he realized that she hadn't parked in her usual spot, and her car wasn't in the lot at all. He had checked, driving through the cramped parking lot three times, just to make sure.
By seven thirty, Gibbs had gone for coffee, his gut urging him to swing by Ziva's apartment. Her car wasn't in the lot next to the building, and he returned to the yard with a cardboard carrier of three coffees, and one tea. He figured she had just left and he would meet her there.
Tim started tracking her cell phone at eight am. It was off, and the last record of it's use was recorded by the tower three blocks from her house. Dead end.
At nine, they put out a BOLO on her vehicle, and Gibbs dodged Vance's inquisitive looks from the balcony overlooking the squadroom on his way to MTAC. They had a report due on his desk by 1500 for the case they wrapped up at 2100 the night before, and none of them looked like they had even begun yet.
So, at nine thirty, Gibbs started a phone blitz, his eyes sparking in an anger Tony and McGee knew was concealing a deep-seeded concern. Ziva was not like this. Since her return from Somalia, and he reinstatement with the team, she was extremely careful, and called in advance if she would be later than her usual time into work.
"Tim, flag her passport. If she even thinks of leaving the country," Gibbs, trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose and leaning back in his chair, nose looking upward.
Tony sighed as well. "We'll find her, Boss."
"We damn well better."
Gibbs had a sinking feeling that this was going to end badly. He looked over at Tony, who looked at the desk with more concern and sadness that his personality should ever account for.
"DiNozzo."
"Yeah, boss."
"If she doesn't call by tonight, we're calling Director David."
"Okay, Boss."
Tim gulped. "Not today," he mumbled.
Gibbs and Tony followed his gaze to the empty desk. Oh, no.
Realization flooded to them. In their haste, they had forgotten what the date marked.
"Not gonna happen, Tim."
And like that, Gibbs headed to the elevator, punching keys on his cellphone, letting it close behind him wordlessly.
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This was weird, Rachel thought. This girl had been standing outside her sister's grave for over an hour now. It was almost ten in the morning, and she had shown up at eight thirty, expecting a little peace and quiet time with her baby sister. She almost wanted to approach the woman and tell her to get lost.
But it was intruiging, really.
The woman was talking to her sister, crying, gesturing with her hands, stopping awkwardly. Talking about her life. Filling her sister in, like they had known each other forever. Babbling, almost. Apologizing at least once every few minutes. Spending long spurts of time in silence, and others pacing and talking, a troubled expression visible from far away.
Good thing she worked with these kinds of crazy people. Maybe she'd hand the woman a card when she finally got lost.
"I am stupid for coming here. I am sorry, for, for bobbling to you about all this. You, of all people, Caitlyn, should not have to listen to me try to attone for my sins. The sins I have committed, against you, outweigh them all. I could have done something. And I did not have enough sense to stop it from happening right in front of me."
Rachel sucked in a deep breath. This woman was from NCIS. She scanned her memory, trying to recall all of the faces she had seen when she did her last bout of psych evaluations there.
"This is all my fault. You should not have to be, there." She finished it awkwardly, dropping to her knees for what Rachel counted as the third time since she had been there. Two if you didn't count that she was already on her knees when she had gotten there.
The flowers in her hand were tucked next to her sister's tombstone, and from a distance, she could see that they were colorful, and roses. They glimmered as she set them down, her hands reaching behind her neck to unclasp a necklace and place them around the bouquet's assortment.
"Your friends are back in Washington, working hard. I promise, you are on their minds, and forever in their hearts. They would want you to know that they love you, very much. And that they wish you were still with them. I brought you flowers from each of them. I do not think they would like that I am here, but it is justified. I am sorry it took me so long to get here, to apologize to you. My brother, he-" She broke off, and Rachel sucked in a breath. "The man that I remember as Ari Haswari was a good man. The man I killed, he was not the brother I knew."
Rachel had to surpress the rage that made her want to punch Ziva David right in the face. It was astonishing that she thought she had the right to deface the ground that her sister lay under, trying to justify what happened to her. But more than that, now that she really think about it, it was astonishing - with as fat of a psych file as she had - that she had the guts to come here and talk to her sister. It was progress. Really. The woman she had spoken to a year ago, was a broken, devastated woman, who would never admit her problems without severe prodding and more psychological damage. But, an apology with a justification is not adequate. Not from her perspective as a protective family member.
"He deserved what he got. You, Kate, you deserved that vengeance. I am sorry I had not realized it sooner. But," Ziva stopped pacing and turned toward the stone that marked Caitlyn's resting place. "You saved me. Wherever you are, please know that I will always be eternally grateful for you."
Rachel figured she could forgive her.
As she came to peace with the federal agent talking to her little sister, she felt her cell phone buzz in her purse. She pulled it out, sliding the touch screen's lock off.
Say hello to her for us, The message read. Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the doctor thought to herself. "Huh," She murmurred aloud. Ziva had just said that they didn't know she was there. Rachel held up her cell phone and snapped a picture of the woman standing before the grave, remarking sadly that the agent's expression and tears showed up surprisingly well with the use of her hd camera. A bout of courage overcame her, adrenaline boosted by catching a picture of the usually guarded woman who seemed to have eyes in the back of her head.
She started toward Ziva, catching her unaware.
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It was 2000 when Ziva finally got into the elevator leading to the squadroom. Her cell phone was fryed, her purse was water-logged, and the only thing that did survive the water damage was her wallet. She had gotten back to DC and drove straight to work, ready to face her boss who she assumed would be seething. After all, she had been unaccounted for since last night when they had left at 2130. Almost a full day.
Her stomach churned slightly, afraid of the wrath of Gibbs, and the Director. She knew she probably looked like hell, her eyes were still bloodshot, seeing as she very rarely cried, much less for extended periods of time.
When the elevator opened, she looked over, only to see that there was no one in the bullpen. Must have called it a night, she thought, dropping her purse at her desk. Everything looked just like she had left it, and the desks of her coworkers looked like they had been extremely busy today. Well, good, she thought, better for them to be occupied than to let their minds wander. It looked like one hell of a case, she thought, smirking. It would be good to get her hands on a good interrogation.
"Oh my God!"
Ziva caught her balance at the last second as Abby tackled her in a giant hug, her caf-pow dropped to the floor. Ziva returned the hug much more gently than Abby's tight squeeze.
"We thought you were kidnapped. Gibbs was about to call the Coast Guard to help look for you! God," Abby said, hushed at the end. "We were so worried."
The Israli-American blinked twice. "I did not think anyone would notice that I was not here, considering-"
Abby continued on, not hearing her friend's soft comment. She held her friend out at arm's length, smoothing down her crazy dark hair. "Are you okay? They didn't hurt you? Did you kill them? Do I have to kill them? I won't hesitate to kill them for putting their grubby paws on you-"
"Who?"
"Gibbs will bring them back to life after I kill them so that he can kill them-"Abby stopped, finally registering what Ziva had said. "Who? You mean you weren't taken hostage or kidnapped?"
Ziva shook her head slowly, and Abby slapped her.
"What the fuck have you been doing all day? We thought we lost you!" Abby's voice was shill and louder than Ziva had ever heard it before. She didn't wait for a response, pulling out her cell phone. "I'm calling Gibbs," she said, her voice lowering a few octaves.
The ninja ripped the cell phone out of Abby's hands. "You thought I was hurt or kidnapped?"
Abby sighed, temporarily neglecting her anger. "Well, yeah. After you didn't answer Gibb's tenth phone call, we kinda figured something had happened."
"Gibbs called ten times?"
"And ripped up your apartment," He said, standing directly behind her. "You have five seconds to tell me where the hell you've been."
"It does not matter," Ziva answered instantaneously, turning and noticing the unbearable rage of Gibbs's face as anger ripped through him, seeing that she was in no immediate danger.
"Elevator. Now."
She slipped into the elevator like lightning, on his heels before Abby could say a peep.
The doors had barely closed before Gibbs flipped the emergency switch.
He regarded her with wild eyes, their noses practically touching. The concern, the anger, the hurt in his eyes was overwhelming. Ziva was sure her own bloodshot eyes did not bode well for her. Especially since she looked like hell.
"Did you think we wouldn't miss you?" Gibbs said, his voice low, and as deadly as the knife at her waist. "Jesus, Ziver."
"I did not think you would want to stare at-" She paused for a moment, noticing how his eyes were beginning to fade slightly as his anger washed over them both, changing into a tired, fatherly concern. She forced herself to continue. "I did not want to remind everyone of what they did not have because I am here, and she is not."
"We miss Kate," Jethro said, with a sigh, and a sad baritone tone, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But that does not mean we wouldn't miss you. Tony was going to go shake things up with your father if we didn't find you soon."
"Abby said you were going to call the Coast Guard."
"I did." Ziva's eyes searched his. "Standby," he clarified. "Where were you?"
Ziva did not meet his eyes. "It does not matter," she repeated, and he gripped both her elbows as her arms were crossed in front of her. "I was not in life threatening danger. I was wrong for not calling."
"The director doesn't know," Gibbs said, head slapping her, hard. "We couldn't file a missing person without probable cause until tomorrow morning."
She sighed. "I am, sorry."
"How many rules are you going to break today, David?" He hit the switch on the elevator and it continued down to the basement, to Abby's lab. She sighed, and he put an arm around her, squeezing briefly before the doors opened and he stepped out like nothing had happened.
She followed timidly, at his side.
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Abby burst into her lab like an explosion. But, she didn't even begin to stir the two men staring at the computer on which they were tracking all of their e-mail, and all of the alerts going out on Ziva.
"Guys," Abby began.
"Come here, Abbs," Tony said, quietly. "We found her."
"Yeah, I know."
Tim looked over his shoulder at her. "No, you don't."
"Guys, Ziva-"
"Look at this," Tony interjected again. Abby huffed. "Fine," Tony continued. "I'll put it on the big screen."
At that moment, Gibbs and Ziva walked in behind Abby.
"You wanna tell me where you were today?" He was asking her, making eye contact with hers. Ziva's eyes were diverted to the screen, then widened, and she stared at the big screen in the lab, trembling slightly before turning away and leaving. Or, at least trying to.
Gibbs grabbed her wrist, his eyes taking in the screen slowly, forcing her to stay in place.
"Ziver," he whispered gently.
Two pictures were side by side on the screen, with a small caption beneath it.
The first, was of the rising sun and a woman, standing before a pristine white granite tombstone, tears on her face, and light pouring rain against the sun's brilliant morning glow. Her face was bathed in golden light, skin glistening a deep bronze amongst raindrops. And tears.
This was so embarassing, Ziva thought, stomach twisting and turning. She was not one to speak of emotions, or really anything, outside of the job. She looked over at her boss's face, expecting to see rage, anger - something, but instead, his face was blank, tired looking. His eyes were filled with emotion, realization shaking him to the core. Ziva tried again to pull out of his grip. His grasp on her wrist tightened. Futile.
"God," Tony mumbled, barely coherent. It was then that Ziva realized that they didn't know she was there. She went slack in Gibbs's grip right as he began to drink in the second picture.
A bouquet of roses, bright with little rain drops that only enhanced the beauty of the fresh flowers. Kate's headstone was slightly less focused behind the roses, but they could make out the name.
The roses were a beautiful rainbow of color. Ziva had gone out of her way on this one, Gibbs noticed, examining how meticulous she had to be for this. There was a black rose, obviously a symbol of Abby, a red rose, a symbol of Tony's obvious enamourment with his old partner, a pink rose, Ducky's admiration of Kate as a person. The next was yellow, obviously McGee's representation. Kate was quite obviously his best friend and big sister. He looked up to her. The final two roses were different. As Gibbs looked between the peach rose and the white one, a solemnity washed over him. The white represented his feelings. A white rose was a bridal flower. Kate was like his daughter. Pure, worthy of everything and anything he could give and then some. Gibbs actually felt a lump in his throat as the feelings of losing another person in his unorthodox family came over him like it had just happened.
Ziva looked over at him, and this time he met her eyes, blinking back the emotions that ghosted across his eyes like a distant memory.
Gibbs struggled for a moment, remembering what a peach rose meant. He had never given one, but he had remembered it had a special meaning. He looked back at Ziva.
"Gratitude," She clarified softly, seeming to read his mind.
He knew it had to have been from Ziva, because her kneck was startlingly bare, and a slight glimmer of gold lay around that single rose. A star.
The Star of David.
"Please thank Agent David from the bottom of my heart," the caption read. "It meant a lot to both myself and to Kate to see her today, to know that she did not die in vain."
Ziva smiled a small smile as the rest of the group turned toward her. "It was long overdue," She whispered, her arm now free of her boss's grasp. "It was something that I had to do. I wanted closure. For Kate, and for myself."
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Closing Notes: I don't know if that was done the best way I could've done it, but it's been kicking around in my fanfiction folder for three months now, and I thought I'd share it and get some feedback. Worst case scenario, I can take it down, edit it, and put it back up. I know Ziva is mighty OOC, but I figure given her recent behavior on the show, it's possible. If it's that terrible though, please let me know.