A/N: I acknowledge the melodrama. (Song is by Florence + The Machine, I don't own NCIS.)

I'm not calling you a liar. Just don't lie to me.

For you. He was playing you Ziva.

For some reason you felt it was your job to protect me?

It had been so very long since someone had done something specifically for her, that Ziva David could not believe the words that tumbled out of her partner's mouth. She had acted like a child then, her mind had been reeling with should haves and would haves that didn't actually mean anything anyway.

Long ago she had looked into his bottomless green eyes and seen something compelling, something she couldn't quite grasp. Now she could not see through the protective block of ice she had encased herself in, and that had been her first mistake. In that moment she was blinded by betrayal and grief and all she wanted to do was what she did best. She wanted to fight him; she wanted to prove that she was right.

But when she threw him down onto the unforgiving concrete, she unknowingly caused the first domino to fall flat on its back.

I'm not calling you a thief, just don't steal from me.

When I awoke I was staring up at an unremarkable ceiling. I couldn't breathe and at that moment, perhaps I didn't deserve to. I was moving quickly down what could have been a corridor, but at the moment I felt like I was a missile being launched out of a submarine. I was covered in grime and could still feel the distinct pattern of blood that had splashed across my face. I could vaguely hear people yelling orders and the creak of well used wheels.

"Don't you dare follow him." A familiar voice whispered harshly into my ear.

"I'm sorry boss," Another voice spluttered frantically. "It was so sudden- he was so determined, it happened so quickly… by the time you took him out-"

"Stop blithering, McGee."

The world continued to spiral out of control; I held my breath and willed it to go away.

I was drowning, drowning in a sea of guilt. I desperately sought something to hold onto and someone grabbed my hand. It was an anchor; it weighed me down and caused me to sink even farther. I desperately wanted it to be the one person I had always counted on, the person who was the main cause of my guilt. But I knew that wasn't in the realm of possibility. I closed my eyes and momentarily left it all behind.

I'm not calling you a ghost. Just stop haunting me.

"Ziva we have to go!" McGee said, hysteria was quickly rising in his throat as he fumbled with my bonds. My ears were still ringing from the initial gun shot, my consciousness had shattered with the glass. After all these years I thought that the impairing noise of a gun being fired at close range would be familiar to me, but I was wrong. This time it was different. Blood was dripping off my cheek bones, it drenched the rags I wore and coated my lips. I gradually came to the shocking realization that I was still alive. This was not my blood after all; it was the blood of the man that sat in the chair in front of me. As soon as I heard the gun and he had slumped over, I thought I was surely dead. But I had survived in spite of myself once again.

Can you fight, Ziva?

When he asked me, I thought it may be possible even though survival had not been my first priority in a long time.

Now he was gone.

At least now he would never have to live without me.

And I love you so much, that I'm gonna let you kill me.

I dreamed of eating pizza while I was alone and tied to that chair. I was so hungry, so starved, so emaciated, in so many more ways than I could have imagined. I dreamed of blueberry muffins and pizza gluey with cheese and sinfully delicious hamburgers.

I remembered the first time I had sampled pizza in America, back when my position at Caitlin Todd's desk had still been tentative. Things had been changing for me then. My protective block of ice began to melt without me knowing it. Suddenly I had wanted to earn Abby's trust and love. I wanted to see poor unconfident McGee become a man. I wanted to solve the case that was very special agent Anthony DiNozzo and I wanted to learn from the enticingly enigmatic L.J. Gibbs.

The more I spent time with them, the more I began to realize that the identity my father gave me was only superficial. And just like that, my ice had shattered.

Then I had frozen up again in an instant when he had lied to me and stolen the comfortable feeling my life had taken on lately. I shut down. I detached myself completely from them.

I wasn't there, but he had been there for me. He had always been there for me and here he was now.

Gibbs had left me on the tarmac.

My father had abandoned me long ago.

Ari went and got himself killed without even bothering to consider me. What it would do to me.

But here was Tony.

Tony, who was sitting in the chair facing mine. Tony, who had made one badly placed insult too many. Tony, who had told one provoking truth too many while the poison was still coursing through his veins- one that Salim had not wanted to hear. Tony, who had made one critical miscalculation. It was Tony who was dead before me, and it was Tony's blood that was splashed across my visage. It was Tony who I left behind as McGee dragged me from the room to safety.

"The more I think about it boss, I'm starting to believe it wasn't his intention to come back at all." I heard McGee's anxious, no- petrified tone. Gibbs quieted him.

"If you have to go, I understand." He leaned down and whispered to me, a trace of sorrow in his voice. "But can you fight, Ziva?"

When Tony had asked me, I thought it may have been possible.

Be he wasn't here anymore.

And I love you so much, that I'm gonna let you kill me.

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