A/N: This drabble came to me as I was trying to fall asleep last night, and it wouldn't leave my head all day. So I decided to submit. :)

As the summary states, takes place while Ziva is held captive and tortured in Africa (where she was during the last clip of 'Aliyah').

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.


Hate

Ziva David was filled with hate. She hated her surroundings, she hated her situation, she hated the long, blank periods in which all there was to do was reflect.

But most of all, Ziva hated the people.

She hated the men who came and went irregularly, threatening her, hurting her, expecting her to break as if they didn't know she was a trained Mossad assassin. Maybe they didn't.

She hated her father, Eli David, for sending Michael Rivkin on a mission that entailed involving Ziva herself without really involving her—without telling her what was going on. She hated him for not trusting her, though she'd been a loyal Mossad officer for years and proved her worth several times over. She hated him for using her, as he'd used all his children.

She hated Michael for lying to her, for betraying her. She hated him because she had loved him, had envisioned their life together…and she hated him because she could not be sure he'd ever really felt the same.

She hated Leroy Jethro Gibbs for abandoning her like an old Kleenex despite all they had gone through together in the past four years; they and the whole team. She hated him because he had made NCIS seem safe and warm, and his betrayal had shattered her perfect perception of the agency as a place where she had friends who cared about her as much as she had grown to care about all of them.

She hated Anthony DiNozzo for destroying, in one fell swoop, both of the men she'd truly loved. And she hated him because she understood why he'd done it. She hated him because a small part of her thought he might have done the right thing.

Most of all, Ziva hated herself. She hated herself for falling for the wrong men, for trusting the wrong people—for trusting anyone at all. She hated herself because in the end, it was her fault that no one was coming to save her.

She hated herself for needing help.

She hated the pain, inside and out.

And she hated, hated that she still cared.


A/N: Here's a funny story for you all: First day of school was today. My AP Government teacher is slightly eccentric (I've had him for class before), and he loves cows. He introduces us to the new class mascot: A stuffed cow wearing an ATF cap. Guess the name? DiNozzo. I kid you not. Apparently, 'DiNozzo' really likes NCIS (as does my teacher). I have a feeling this is going to be a good year...