Blood Ran Cold

Authors note:

1) Thank you for deciding to read this fanfic. I'm trying to become an author, so any review, positive or negative, is very much appreciated. No author is perfect, especially new ones, so any constructive criticism would be great, but if I did something unique or that you really like, please let me know so I can repeat that strategy in the future.

2) IMPORTANT: The next fanfic is the start of a very long series, in fact this is the last fanfic planned that's not part of the series. I'm introducing a new character in this one. Her name is Allison Marie Foster, the Kate/Ziva/Bishop of my series, and a love interest for Tony. This fanfic, however, does NOT contribute to the future series.

3) No, I was NOT on Ziva's side in these episodes. I couldn't stand the Ziva character for quit a while. Therefore, this fanfic is NOT for TIVA or Ziva fans.

4) Enjoy! 3

Ziva's POV

Tel Aviv, Isreal Right Outside the Mossad Building

I know that I'm being followed. I think that Tony knows that I know, too. Before confronting Tony, I need to gather my thoughts.

After Jenny died, I was lost. I couldn't look at Tony the same. Sure I could've saved Jen without help. I've done it before, but he held me back and that cost Jenny her life. After leaving for Mossad, I found comfort in Michael Rivkin. He had lost friends in the line of duty, too. Mentors. Sure, Tony is in pain over Jenny too, but he didn't hurt as much as I was.

I know that its pathetic to compare pain, but after Tony took matters into his own hands and killed Michael, he acted like he didn't realize how happy Michael made me. Tony acted like he knew what's best for me, but he was dead wrong. Selfish, too.

Now that I know that I have no love for Tony anymore, I instantly realize that I'm ready. I don't care what I SHOULD do. I will follow my instincts, and as cheesy as it sounds, my heart. Tony just better hope, for his sake, that I feel sympathetic for cold blooded murderers today.

I walk over to Abba's building and stare at the glass doors until the face of my enemy appeared. I sigh, then turn.

Tony's face has a mixed expression. He looks guilty, angry, and his face is drenched with despair.

"I had no choice." Tony defends.

I scoff.

"That's a lie."

He didn't have to kill Michael. Michael did nothing wrong. I know that evidence says that Michael murdered people, but I can't bring myself to believe that. Apparently everyone, including Tony, thinks that I'm extremely gullible or something.

"Why would I lie to you, Ziva?"

Uh-huh yeah, yeah he NEVER lied to me.

"To save your worthless ass."

It's impossible to miss the look of pure desperation, sorrow, and agony in his eyes.

"From who? Vance? Mossad?"

Uh, I don't know. Abba? No, he stood up to him. Huh.

"You jeopardized your entire career and for what?" I ask, not liking how he turned this around.

"For you. He was playing you, Ziva"

My eyes widen. I'm not surprised because of his caring, but I'm surprised by his extreme incompetence.

"And you felt that it was your job to protect me?"

You're not exactly Black Widow, Tony.

"I did what I had to do."

I can't believe that Tony thinks that I'm defenseless. That I'm soft. This wasn't his fight. It was mine. When he butted in, Tony killed the man I love. His lack of respect and common sense is getting people killed. People that I love.

"You killed him."

"If I hadn't, you'd be having this conversation with him, but maybe that's the way you'd prefer it?"

Absolutely.

"Perhaps I would!"

At this point, all I feel is pure anger and hatred towards Tony. Any sympathy, respect, and love vanished. Now, the fact that he's even alive is a mistake.

"Okay, why don't you just get this out? You wanna take a punch? Take a swing?"

Yes please.

I guess he read my mind.

"Get it outta your system! Go ahead, do it!"

I am shaking with rage. What did I use to see in Tony? Why the class clown? The screw up? The man with the rich daddy that's use to having his life handed to him?

He's selfish, naïve, and unbearably idiotic. What was the competition? Between a low life or and funny healer, the question of who is better has an obvious answer.

"Be careful, Tony. Because much like Michael I only need one."

All of the agony on Tony's face brings so much joy to my sole that has recently made my blood run cold.

"Then that's what you're really angry about, isn't it? That's what's bothering you. It's not that he's dead. It's that your Mossad boyfriend got his ass kicked by a chump like me."

At this point, I'm practically growling with anger. So much rage, loss, and despair gives you horrible thoughts, and the only thoughts going on in my head are how I'm going to behead Tony.

"You took advantage of him."

With that, realization, acceptance, and pure agony becomes perfectly clear on Tony's face. He realizes that I will not date him, that I do not love him, and that he'd better get away.

"He attacked me. What was I supposed t-"

Then I kick Tony's feet out from under him, savoring the bone-crunching sound of his radius being re damaged.

"You saw a glass table. You pushed him back. You dropped him on it. He was impaled in the side by a shard of glass. Bloody. Gasping for air."

"I guess you read my report."

Not liking the interruption, I continue.

"I memorized it! You could've left it at that. You could've walked away, but no, you let him up! You put four in his chest!"

Then I put a gun on Tony's chest. The sight just looks right. Why didn't I put my gun on his chest months ago?

"You weren't there."

"You could've put one in his leg!"

"You. Weren't. There."

I realize something. If I was there, if I'd protected Michael, he'd be alive. This isn't just Tony's fault. This is mine, too. If I was as loyal to Michael as he was to me, he'd be okay, and Tony would have four bullet holes in his chest. Agony strikes me as I realize that I was involved in Michael's death, and I just hope that I'll also be involved in Tony's.

"But I should've been!"

At this moment, it is clear. Two rivals, two key parts in the lethal love triangle, are dead or dead to me. Tony, the selfish, idiotic, pervy, juvenile, and boneheaded clown is alive while Michael, the sweet, smart, funny, and caring healer, is dead. Killed by the class clown. The one who should be alive is dead, and the one who's dead should be alive.

I'm going to fix the first part.

Tony's POV

Tel Aviv, Isreal. Right outside the Mossad Building, on the ground

Why does she hate me? What'd I do? Didn't she see the pain in my eyes when she saw Michael and I on the floor? Doesn't she know that my radius is fractured? I could've just walked in, shot Michael, then walked out. Then and only then would I deserve this. I didn't want to hurt him or Ziva. I love Ziva. Guess she just doesn't love me.

I've helped her, healed her, made her laugh, and guided her, and this is how she repays me.

My mind drifts off to another women. I knew her during high school. I loved her and she loved me, but she was dating someone else. A rock musician named Nick McArthy. He moved to California right after finishing high school.. He asked her to come with him. She had to choose between the two loves of her life: me and Nick. In the end, she wanted to choose me. Deep down, I wanted her to choose me, but I convinced her to go with Nick. Nick could help her so much more. He could give her the life that she deserved, and that was all that I wanted for her.

Her names was Allison Marie Foster, and I loved her with all my heart.

I called her Ali.

She was there for me when my mom died. We were always there for each other. We healed each others wounds constantly.

Her mother and her baby sister both died when she was a kid, and I was there. Dad abused and neglected me, and Ali was there.

If I'd kept in touch with her, she'd be here.

She is not here, though. Because of that, it looks like I'm going to die here on the cold concrete alone. I always keep a picture of her in my front left pocket, and if anything happens to me, that picture will be my comfort.

I love Alice, and Ziva loved Michael. If only those relationships worked out. Looks like one person in each relationship will be dead.

Michael and Ziva loved each other, and if I could go back in time, Michael would be alive, and I would find Alice, and hold on to her and never let her go.

"You loved him." I state.

Three emotions appear on Ziva's face in order.

1) Pondering. She is seriously considering something.

2) Realization. She decided on a course of action.

3) Homicidle. She gives me that look that she gives each of her victims.

I realize then that she wants to kill me.

"Yes, I did, DiNozzo."

Then she pulls the trigger and walk off, leaving me to die.

Gibbs's POV

Tel Aviv, Israel Right outside the Mossad Building

While Looking for Tony and Ziva, I hear a gunshot. Instinctively, I draw my weapon. When I arrive at the scene, I am appalled to say the least.

Tony is caked in his blood, with a bullet hole in his chest. There is blood everywhere. So much blood. He is alive and muttering something to a picture.

I run over, and I see him weakly smile.

"Boss?" Tony mumbles.

I can barely hold back the tears as I stare at my friends mangled body.

Tony is a great friend, and I can't lose him. He's my son, and I never imagined anything like this ever happening. Now that it did, I just doesn't seem true.

Sadly it is true. This isn't Hollywood acting. This isn't TV. This is real life, and I just can't except the agonizing fact that my son is dying.

"Tony, you'll be okay, just please stay with me." I beg.

I called 911 the moment I heard the gunshot, and the ambulance should be here any minute.

Tony hands me the picture. Behind the blood is a beautiful teenaged girl and a very handsome teenage boy. They looked so happy together. I turn it over, and it says:

Tony and Alice February 14th, 1986. Valentine's Day Party.

The girl is on the left with her arm over the boy, and the boy is on the right with his arm over the girl. The girl has her long hair braided down the side, and she looks a little younger than the boy. 2 years, maybe? They look like they were laughing. It is one of the most joyful photos I'd ever seen.

"Her name is Allison Marie Foster. Maybe McArthy. Please… please tell her that I love her. That's her and I on the… last Valentines Day we spent together. I… miss her and I want her to know that I love and miss her."

Suddenly, the sirens of an ambulance blurred Tony's voice.

"You can tell her yourself, Tony."

With that, he smiles and nods. I hold his hand as he passes out.

Authors Note: Yes, that's the end of this chapter. Mwahahahaha. Cliff hanger. I assure you that this fanfic is far from over and the next chapter will be up momentarily.