An understanding of sorts.
"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them."
Galileo Galilei
Darkness and deceive, a whole life lived next to the barricades but not actually there. A series of orders, good or bad always carried out to the end. Winner or loser, no one cares; after a while the lines are blurred and foggy. She knows; her sister was killed by a suicide bomber and she killed her brother under her father's orders. If that's not the description of a screwed up family she does not know what can surpass it.
She's tired, lonely and depressed. She wonders about the future.
Get up, go to work, follow Dad's orders, follow NCIS's orders and maybe… just maybe it will work out in the end. On its own. NCIS is just another burden she has to carry. Suddenly everything blackens. No thoughts should let her guard down to even grieve. No time for that. Her body slides to the floor and two strong arms pick her up and carry her out of the hotel room.
Not so strong now are we Miss David?
He needs reassurance. Despite appearances he is not the town's jester. He uses his sense of humour for defence, for self preservation. Regardless, he knows when to fight and when to give up. And now it's time for fight. He's got to be certain. He has to get his answers.
He cannot punish Ari. He cannot interrogate him or beat him to a bloody pulp. He cannot turn the time back and save Kate's life. But he can see if Ari's partner? friend? lover? family? knew and kept her mouth shut. He will avenge Kate's death in the only way he can.
Jenny may trust her, Gibbs may have started warming up to her but still… she's vicious. And scary. She has no qualms, no interest in life or in death. She jokes and replies playfully but under the girly smile the Mossad training is there. Implacable. Dangerous. Deadly.
He wonders which of the two trainings made Ari the way he was. He could feel sorry for him… if only! Or maybe not.
He sits on a chair waiting for her to wake up.
She wakes up feeling groggy and tense. When no memories come back, when she cannot move any limb or the rest of her body she knows. She's in trouble. Everything is black, darkness around her, no light. Where is she? There're no windows, no kind of light, artificial or natural. She remembers her instructor's orders to what to do in case she gets caught. She remembers the practise lessons and the pain intensifies. It's only psychological, she thinks. Who ever took her they didn't beat her, they didn't hurt her. Much!
The worse thing is not knowing who has her and what are their plans.
She curses in her native language חרה.
Molto appropriato..., he thinks.
He doesn't like what he's doing, he hasn't given her a chance to defend herself but if he had their positions would have reversed. And he very much enjoys the way things are now. Enjoy may be a strong word, especially when Kate's dead body is so fresh, still warm. He remembers his grandmother's words after his nonno's death. Dressed in all black, her dirge still haunts his dreams at times. Four days after the funeral he had heard her say "it's like he's listening to me. I believe that if I ask something of my Antonio he will answer!" That's how he feels about Kate now. She will answer him, if he dares to make any question. So he doesn't. He just sits there watching Ziva struggling to unravel her shackles.
But oh he did well.
'We all have secrets.' He suddenly says. His eyes have been adjusted in the dark and he can see her figure turning to where he's sitting.
'DiNozzo?'
'Did you expect anyone else?'
'Are you an idiot? Oh what am I asking? Of course you are. Let me go or I'll find ways to kill you that you haven't ever dreamnt.' Her speech is slower than usual and the breathing rugged.
'Oh I think I know exactly in how many different ways you can kill me, Ziva. That's why you're there and I'm here.'
'Are you planning to keep me here indefinitely?'
'No! Only until I get my answers.'
'What do you want to know?'
'You tried to help Ari. Why?'
'That's none of your concern.'
He slides down and kneels next to her chair.
'Oh it became my concern when he killed my partner.'
'I've already told you I'm sorry.'
'That's not good enough.' He whispers close to her ear.
'That's the only thing you'll get of me.'
'Then we'll stay here for a long time.'
'Won't Gibbs look for you?'
'How do you know he's not aware of this?' She smiles and he recoils.
'Gibbs knows about me.'
'But he doesn't trust you.'
'Are you sure?'
Was he?
She listens to the sound of him getting up, his steps smooth and light. A sudden sharp light blinds her.
'Why should I trust you?'
'There no need to trust me. Only to believe in me.' Blue eyes lock on brown. Pain and defeat. Worry and curiosity. Grieve and acceptance.
'Isn't it the same thing?'
'No.'
'Are you saying you're God? So far I only knew about believing in God…' She smiles. The same girly smile that hides the killer, -the torturer? he wonders. She's pretty. Even like that. Even bound and in pain and misery.
'I'm no God, Agent DiNozzo. God is pure. I don't think I was ever pure. Or innocent. My family made sure of that.'
'You said you volunteered.'
'And I'm good at lying too.' He comes to stand close to her. Sober green-blue gaze is focusing solely on her. He's handsome… when he's not an idiot. His body touches hers from chest to hips. He's warm, she's cold. His hands reach behind her and it looks like a charade of a hug. It feels like that too. She so wants a hug. She has just killed her brother למען השם!
But she's not getting a hug; he reaches over to unlock the handcuffs.
'I believe you. Not in you, but you!' He says and turns around. She can so easily start a fight with him… but she won't.
'I'm sorry for your partner.' He turns to look at her once again.
'I'm sorry for your…what ever he was.' He says and she believes him.
Neither cries. Not in front of the other.
But they have come in an understanding.
In time they may learn to trust each other. They both have their doubts...
End Notes
Translation:
חרה = shit
Molto appropriato = very appropriate
למען השם! = for heaven's sake!