A/N: Another one-shot. This time it's a series of thoughts from Kate's POV, since it's Veteran's Day.

I woke up to a text message from my best friend overseas saying one of our girlfriend's mother had passed away early this morning. We were close to her, and her sudden passing really took its toll on me. She was always a kind soul, always reminding us to be happy and choose to do good. I couldn't really focus my attention towards anything after that so I decided to dive into another story.

I hope she rests in peace.

Disclaimed.

Fly your flag

I would never publicly admit it, but after all these years, I can safely say this has got to be one of my favorite holidays. Well, that if you consider today as a holiday. Last I checked, people don't usually celebrated deaths, but then I again, I guess I'll never know. It's been 6 years, and Jesus, that really does seem like a very long time. Six years is enough time for generations and mentalities to change. And yes, I am referring to bad people.

As I watch from where I am, I see violence and deaths occur over things that aren't important. Just the other day, I found out that a college kid shot his roommate after a fight broke out over a remote control. A freaking remote control, mind you! And just like that, a life ends. People (on Earth) really should start thinking about the value of life, and how blessed they are to be alive. Somewhere, a child is dying of hunger; a woman is dying from domestic abuse, and a man is dying for his country. There's more to life that taking a gun, and shooting someone, because you can't find the damn remote control.

When I think about it, it gets me frustrated. I feel so useless, so inadequate. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I was going to die early. I guess I didn't really think about it. But now, since I have too much time on my hands, it makes me wonder. I wonder about the things I could have done, the unwarranted deaths I could have prevented, or the helpless individuals I could have offered my hand to. It pisses me off, really. It pisses me off that now, with the situation that I'm in, I can never help the people who are in need; I can't speak up for the people who want their voice head; and I can't deter the bad guys from causing further harm. At times, I want to cry. Because it hurts me to know that I'm just standing here, watching. Like a frequent movie-goer, I watch as the scenes unfold, with no power whatsoever to change the outcomes. Do you know how that feels like?

These are the days I cannot believe that I'm done. I'm done with life. I'm done with my life.

But before I get all depressed with the reality that I still –up to this day— have troubles accepting, let me also just say how proud I am of myself. I know, it's not very "Kate" of me to brag, but I feel like I deserve the tiny credit, for the very least. I feel like in my somewhat short years of living on Earth, I have managed to leave a good memory on most of the people I cared about. That to me really warms my heart, you know, to know that I've made a difference in their lives.

The first group to visit were a few of my friends from Secret Service. They arrived here approximately 0700hrs, I guessed they never did forget one of the most important rules that were drilled in our heads by our C/O—NEVER be punctual; ALWAYS be early. They brought me a medium sized funeral wreath, but instead of the typical white and yellow colors, they decorated it with red and green, my favorite colors. Now, any dead person would have taken offense by thinking this funeral wreath resembled a Christmas wreath, but I didn't. I found it really sweet and thoughtful that they actually remembered what my favorite colors were. They each said their 'silent' prayer, which isn't really that silent, well to me that is. One of the perks of being dead is that you can actually hear the thoughts of living people around you. Yes, it can get a little busy and loud at times, especially on days like these where people tend to gather in groups and think to themselves at the same time, but after six years, I've developed a skill for singling out the conversations and thoughts I'd only want to listen to. I must say I've done a pretty good job.

James Westdief, my old partner from Secret Service and…ex-boyfriend-and-could-have-been-fiancé (What, you didn't know? James and I…we kind of like dated for 8 years –5 years when we were in Secret Service, 3 when I was in NCIS. Now before you give me that look let me just say there weren't any rules about dating your co-worker in Secret Service, so don't hold me on that.)

As I was saying, James started off by saying that he missed me and wished that he could have done something. I told him, I missed him too, but it's not like he could hear me. He went on about how he is now the leader of the Secret Service operation team that protects the current Secretary of Homeland Security. James said he loved his job, even on days he feels like his chosen profession could eat him alive. He said that there was something about protecting the person who protects the security of the entire nation that makes him more dedicated to his job. I wished I could tell him how proud I was of him, and how he was making his parents proud. Yes, Mr. and Mrs Westdief told me themselves.

There was a short pause before he finished his thoughts. I remember swallowing that persistent lump on my throat. I didn't really want to hear what James was about to say next, and God, I wished I could have lost my power to hear people's thoughts that very moment. But of course, I guess God only listens to prayers of people who are actually living, and so I heard everything.

"Caitlin Alexa Todd," he began. I cringed on the sound of my middle name. There are only 5 few people who knew my middle name, and James was one of them. Of course he scooped that out from my personnel file. On normal situations, I would have screamed and wrestled this man down, for breach of privacy. But this wasn't 'normal situation', this was (and is) my man, so I let it pass by. "Alexa, I miss you. I really do. Do you ever get tired of hearing that?" No James, I actually don't. "I can't believe it's been 6 years since you know…I last saw you. Since I last told you I loved you, and waited for you to say 'I love you' too. 6 years since your untimely death. I mean, I should have gone against the idea of you having to protect Gibbs. Even though I know it's not something you would have done anyways but at least I know I did something to try to prevent you from dying. I know, you're going to say that it wasn't my fault, and that it never was. But here I am, working proudly to protect our Head of Homeland Security, and the thought that I couldn't have done anything to protect you, kills.. Do you know how powerless that feels?" I felt tears running down my cheeks. I didn't even bother to wipe them away. I just let them flow. No one is here anyways, no one can see me crying. "I bet you're laughing at me right now, knowing that I'm fighting to keep my tears from falling. But hey, I have to keep this tough-guy look especially in front of our other co-workers. But Alexa, I want you to know that there isn't a day that I didn't think about you. You're here, in my heart, in my mind, every second. And I just want you to know that. And, I had the engagement ring that I wanted to give you resized. Of course, I took off the diamond in the middle, and had the band enlarged. I wear it all the time, because in my heart, and in my mind, you're THE one. And even though you're technically gone, you soul still lives. And I live off that memory, with hopes that you're up there waiting for me." I couldn't remember much of what happened after that, all I wanted to do was become un-dead (whatever the hell that means), and wrap my arms around James.

Things got a lot better, when my sister came. She told me about the recent happenings in her life, that her daughter is now 8 years old. She plays soccer, and is an active member of the drama club. She also told me that Prince William got married to a commoner named Kate Middleton. I watched her smile and say, "Oh the irony!" I think I smiled too. It truly felt just like the old times, when my sister and I were teenagers. We would spend all night talking about everything we could possibly think of. It's hard to believe, but before I built this tough persona, I was just the average girl who played dress up and Barbie dolls. The average girl who ogled on hot guys, and talked about celebrities. I guess you can credit that on why you see me walking around the office in skirts and heels. I'm tough, and I'm a woman. There's nothing wrong with that. Well…although there are times I do regret having to run to the bathroom to change my shoes from heels to combat boots (God, those boots are a fashion crime) whenever we had a case. But Gibbs let me off, and so I took full advantage of that.

Rachel told me about her recent psych eval that she did on the MCRT team. She told me that everyone was doing well. Gibbs was still drinking bourbon, and building his boat, Abby still the happy goth, Ducky still talking to dead bodies, Tony was still his playful and goofy self, and McGee still having to endure Tony's pranks. Nothing changed. Well, of course Jimmy Palmer, and the new girl that came to replace me. Ziva Dah-veed, I think. That was her name.

The couple more groups came to visit. Most of them were friends from NCIS or the Secret Service. They left me short messages about how good of a person I was. One of them even went to say that "justice was served". No one really talked about who my killer—yes that phrase sounded weird—was. No one talked about it. Gibbs, Tony, McGee were tight-lipped. Gosh, even Ducky and Abby weren't saying anything. There was something in me that sparked the desire to want to know. I just wished someone would tell me what happened, and how it happened. Maybe then I could start finding closure, you know, since acceptance is really hard to come by.

I guess someone heard me wishing. Because a few minutes later I spotted the team walking up to where they last laid my body to rest. Abby was wrapping her arms around McGee, practically dragging him. Tony, Ducky and Gibbs were walking side by side, talking about something I presume had nothing to do with me. Gibbs had wooden sculptures in hand, something I've gotten used to seeing and receiving. Once, he found out that I loved collecting figurines of Angels, so he made it a point to sculpt one in wood, every year for my birthday. That 'tradition' also continued as I died. Ducky and Tony each had flowers in hand. One bouquet was red, the other was green. Sometimes I wonder if I had been really obvious with these favorite colors, I don't remember telling anyone about them. Come to think of it, I've only told them to Abby…sigh, well, I guess that's why.

I watched as everyone laid their gifts on the ground carefully, trying not to overshadow the rest of the gifts that my other friends had left for me. I waited patiently, wondering who would start talking first. I secretly placed a bet on Abby and Tony, maybe even Ducky. But I guess this year was different. McGee went on first.

"Hey Kate, how are you doing? I guess you're fine, because you're dead now, and the dead don't have problems." McGee stuttered, unaware that he was saying it out aloud, instead of in his thoughts. He instantly earned a set of weird looks from Tony. "Silently, McBlabbermouth. You wouldn't want to disturb Kate's 'inner peace'." Tony whispered as he attempted to pull off one of the yoga moves I taught him. McGee turned beet red as he nodded upon the command. I know it seems mean but I did laugh, at the sight. It has been so long since I last saw McGee blush this hard, the last time I recall is when he accidentally looked up my skirt while trying to fix my computer. Breach of privacy and womanhood at that moment, but now as I look back, the entire scene was utterly hilarious.

By this time, I was really trying not to giggle, it got hard trying to pay attention to what McGee had to say, all I could hear was 'I miss you Kate, everyone does…please strangle Tony if you have the chance…I'm writing a sequel to the first book I wrote…everyone is doing great, I hope you are too.' I wanted to run to McGee and offer him one of those sympathetic hugs and tell him that I understand, but then again, I couldn't. I just giggled one last time till Tony finally began speaking.

DiNozzo's message was short and straight to the point. It made me feel like he had practiced that in front of the mirror. But this is DiNozzo we're talking about, and he always knew what to say. It's only up to you to decide if it's right or wrong. He told me that he watched 'Shrek' the other day and the Princess was "still as green and creepy" as ever. Tony. He never changes, always using films as conversation starters. But it was really nice of him to remember that Shrek was one of my favorite movies. I know it sounds childish, but I loved that movie, because the animation was amazing. And plus, I don't know if you've heard, but green IS one of my favorite colors.

Other than that, Tony's message was all serious. He talked about his boxing classes, and how he wasn't as bad as he thought he was. He talked about Gibbs and the Paloma saga, about Abby and McGee and how things are getting back to 'normal' (yes, Tony and I were absolute fans of back then when Abby and McGee dated), about EJ and Ray, about his thoughts on what would happen if Ducky decides to retire, about Mike Franks and the fact that Gibbs had been making his casket the entire time, about Ziva, about his secret mission, about his life in general. It was very…typical Tony. Despite his cheerful exterior, Tony is just a man filled with insecurities and fear. This was Tony, putting others first before himself. He would often take the blame for things he wasn't guilty of, just so his loved ones could go away scot-free. He would put his safety under everyone else, because he feels like he has to. He wouldn't say the things he truly feels because he is afraid to get hurt. And so he'd rather leave before he gets left behind. Yes, that's very Marilyn Monroe of him.

I look at him, and I can't believe how this man has changed. He talks a lot about this Ziva, which I assume is now his partner. He wouldn't admit, but I know there is something there. After all, this was the same Tony who went to Somalia for revenge, because "he couldn't live without her". (Oh, I got that bit of information from McGee by the way). Truth serum or not, I truly feel that Tony cares for this girl much more than he thinks he is aware of. In fact, way too much more than he actually wants to. I just hope he doesn't screw this up, whatever it is he has with her.

Abby was next to share. She began talking so fast, I had a hard time trying to catch up. It was as if she was delivering a report to Gibbs with the aid of 20 bottles of Caf-Pows in hand. All I had from her were something along the lines of how much she missed me, how she bowled again with the nuns at the church, how Bert was running out of batteries, and how he gives out that depressing sound whenever she hugs him. Oh, and I think she also kind of like consulted me about her outfit for Halloween.

I laughed a little. That's so typical Abby.

Sometime after Abby began talking in her mind, Ducky started talking. I noticed he looked younger than he was supposed to. Ducky is nearing his 70s, and he still looks as sharp and smart as ever. I am relieved for that matter. As much as I feel like I need the company, I know he still feels the sense of duty he has for his dead bodies. It would be truly selfish of me to ask of him to 'hurry up' just so that I could have some company. And so it shocked me to find out that he had been going to the hospital for weekly check-ups. It turns out that a benign tumor the size of his fist was found lined in his intestine. He talked to me about his worries about the pending operation (whether he was still deciding to have it done or not), and that if decided to do that, he wished he could perform an operation on himself, because at least he doesn't have anyone to blame if the operation ever turned awry.

I watched him sigh quietly as he delivered me the news. There was something about the way he said it that made me feel he hadn't told anyone about it. I wish I could open my mouth and say it, though. I didn't want Ducky to feel like he was in this alone, because he isn't, really. He has friends both in the real and the afterlife that would hold his hand through this ordeal that he is about to go through.

Last but not least, Gibbs, the man of a few words spoke. Did I ever tell you how glad I am to be hearing what Gibbs is thinking? No, not in that way, the other way. I mean Gibbs is always so direct, so precise. I wonder if he actually analyzes his words before he says them. So I sit up and listened as his thoughts began flowing out. He talked about Mike Franks and how much of an impact it made for him to actually know that he is dead. Gibbs had known about Frank's terminal illness for about 9 months, and up till now, he says he can't accept the fact that the 'sun of a gun' (I quoted that) could actually die. (It was true, really. Mike was one the most stubborn people you could ever meet on earth.) Gibbs asked if I've seen Franks with a whisky bottle and a swarm of naked women around. Who ever thought Gibbs was a dry man should really take up mind-reading classes. This man has humor!

He talked about the team. Abby, McGee, Tony, Ziva, Palmer, Vance and Ducky. He told me that he knows about Ducky's situation and he's just waiting for his friend to share it with him. I don't know in which shoes I would want to be. In Ducky's , not knowing the certainty of my life, or Gibbs' knowing that a friend is ill, and he can't do anything about it. Either way, they are both affected. I just wished one would actually have the courage to bring this up.

I sat in silence, trying to collect my thoughts. It has been 3 hours since the team left, and I'm still sitting at the same place I was, trying to gather everything that was said to me. Sometimes I wish I could filter away the thoughts that I only wanted to hear. It was bad enough that I was invading their privacy, it was another thing to feel like I was just merely another person on the line. The one who has neither the power or the ability to react to good news, and the bad. It sucks, really. I don't think you'd understand wouldn't understand, unless you die, and hang out with me, that is.

I got up from my seat and began dusting myself. I guess it was about time I leave. I was just admiring the gifts that my friends and family had left behind, when I noticed someone walking towards my direction. At first I thought she was one of my 'kind'. You know, a ghost lingering around on veterans' day, watching as everyone they know and loved paid a visit. But my assumptions proved to be wrong, when I heard her talking to herself.

"Maybe I shouldn't be doing this." She said.

I watched her as she moved closer and closer to where my body was laid to rest. I watched as she lowered her gift to the ground, a bear which had a necklace that bore the word "HERO". I watched this woman with curiosity, trying to remember who she was. She could have been one of those people I helped, but that's just stupid, because the last deed I did was 6 years ago. And so, I continued observing. She had wavy hair, which rested gently on her shoulders. Her skin was olive, and her eyes bore a striking resemblance I can't put my finger on. I continued profiling her, as she constantly shifted her weight from her left leg to her right. In the end, I stopped trying to guess who she was. I had absolutely no idea who this woman was, but I sat down anyways, because I felt like she had something to say.

"Hello Kate. Well, I think it would be rather rude for me to call you by your nickname. So, can I call you Caitlyn instead?" As soon as she finished her first sentence, I had a rough idea of who she was. The curly hair, the olive skin, the Star of David, the very well concealed knife under her shirt. She was Ziva David. The Ziva David.

"I do not know if you can hear me. I do not even know if you like me or what me to be here, but I felt like it was about time. And also, I think you deserved to hear what I have to say, even if I know you may not believe me." I watched her pause for a second, as if wondering whether to continue or not. Somehow I wished she just said all these things in her head, at least I could read her mind. Everything would be easier then.

"Six years ago, Caitlyn, you were assigned to protect Gibbs. Your mission was about to end, and the protection detail was about to be removed when you were shot point blank by a rogue agent named Ari Haswari." I cringed at the sound of his name, but I remained still.

"My name is Ziva David. I was appointed by Jenny Shepard to replace you on Gibbs' team. And I, I killed Ari." I swear, I could have fallen off my seat. Maybe God was listening to my wishes after all! I watched as she started blinking away tears that began to form in her eyes. Maybe everyone was wrong. The tough Ziva David was breakable, after all. She wasn't as strong as everyone perceived her to be—not that I see anything wrong in that. But why is she crying? It's not as if she met me before, or knew me personally. Clearly, there was something more to it that I was missing. And I was just as determined to know what it was.

"Everyone is doing great, Caitlyn. Gibbs and I worked out our trust issues. Honestly I am eternally grateful that he had managed to see pass through my faults. He is a good person, and I am happy that I can look up to him as a father. Abby is as always the best friend that anyone would be glad to have. I know that you and her were really close, and I know that I can never replace you in her heart. But I thank you, for not being bitter, now that Abby and I are close. You could have sneaked up behind me and scared me out of NCIS but you did not. I thank you. Because I do not know if I would be still be as the person I am today if was not for Abby. I never admitted it, but I actually liked her hugs. Sometimes I even wish she gave more. But she is Abby after all, she knows when you need a hug." I nodded to that last sentence. Ziva is right, Abby knows when you needed a hug. And if Abby knows you need one, Abby gives you one.

"Ducky is healthy, or at least that is what he assures us. Tony has been telling me that Ducky has been acting a little strange lately, and I agree with him. Together with Tony, I once followed Ducky home. Instead he led us to Bethesda. Tony and I started following him more often, and we realized he drove to Bethesda every Monday night. We are worried for him, Caitlyn. But Tony is telling me not tell anyone about it, because Ducky is Ducky and he would tell us whatever we need to now, whenever he is ready. Speaking of Ducky, he has an assistant. I am not sure if you knew him, but his name is Jimmy Palmer. He is a very nice man, and is getting married pretty soon. We have not met Breena—that is his fiancé—but I trust that she is a good woman, or else, I might have to do something…about it."

"Tony, he is my partner now. He 'covers my six' and I do the same for him. I wish I could say more, really. But I do not know what to say myself. All I know is, whatever past impressions he has made on you, I assure you, he is not the man you think he is. He is a good man, Caitlyn. Sometimes I think, too good of a man." She said quietly. I wanted her to go on, but sadly, she didn't. Out goes my "hopeless-romantic" stance out the door.

"McGee, he's like a brother to me. He was the only person who accepted me as I am when I first filled in the spot that you had. He is a gentleman and is always helping us upgrade our computers so that we do not lose files. I have no complaints about him but come to think of it, maybe I do. I just hope he would think again about publishing his sequel to 'Deep Six'. That book is…invading our privacy" I laughed. Somehow I wish I had the chance to make friends with this woman. She seemed so easy going. It's definitely no wonder that the team has gotten to love her so much. Do I feel jealous, yes. But I believe she deserved the love, whatever love she's receiving.

She stood on the same spot for a couple of minutes before saying something that would make me wanna take back whatever good words I've put on her. "Ari, Ari was a good man. He truly was. He just got tired of someone of authority telling him what to do, and how to live his life. I know I should not be saying this to you, but I feel like should. I just hope you understand. Because I understand him, and why he did the things he did. I know you probably want to wish you were not dead, so that you could shoot me, but I stand my ground."

Damn right, I wanted to shoot this woman. Never have I jumped from adoration and love to sympathy and vengeance so fast in my life. My heart was so filled with rage, I've never come across a woman so twisted in my life.

"For people like us, Caitlyn, you always feel like you are trapped, like your entire purpose in this life is to follow orders from him just so that he would recognize you. You keep doing as told, because that is the only way that you feel loved. I know you do not understand Caitlyn, because you and I were raised differently, but please find it in your heart to try. I want you to know that there is not a day I that I do not blame myself for the loss of your life, and Ari's life."

"What on earth this woman is talking about?" I said to myself out aloud, knowing once again that no one could hear me.

"Because Ari Haswari, he was my brother—my half-brother. And I killed my half-brother."

I wish I could shoot myself. I mean I know I'm dead, but I wish I could just shoot myself. How could I have not seen that coming. I watched as she took a small American flag from her pocket. She unfolded it, and stuck it deep to the ground, right next to the bear that she brought.

"After all that's said and done, I still think that you are a hero. You did what you had to do, and you served your country well. Once again, I am truly sorry. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me and Ari. So, I hope you accept my gifts, along with this flag. This flag is yours Kate, fly it."