Never Alone

A/N: This takes place after the events in Shiva (which has not aired yet), once Ziva has had time to breathe again.

"Go home, Ziver," Gibbs said, eying his newest Field Agent. He had honestly been surprised to see her come back to work so soon after everything that happened. Eli had been murdered only two weeks ago. Ziva had just returned to NCIS that previous Monday. It also puzzled him as to why she requested to be off the clock from three o'clock instead of her normal time of five. She assured him that she would put in her eight hours and showed up that very morning two hours early to work on paperwork. He looked over at her again. She seemed to be deep in thought. "Hey, David, it's three o'clock. Go home." When she did not appear to hear him, he raised his voice "Hey!"

Ziva's head snapped around. "What, Gibbs?"

"It's three o'clock. Go home." He squinted at her, ever-so-slightly. There was something very off about her. His gut was never wrong. He spared a glance across the bullpen at DiNozzo, jerking his head toward Ziva as she rose.

"Right. Thank you, Gibbs," she said, grabbing her coat and backpack. "Have a good weekend. I will see you Monday." She slowly moved off toward the elevator.

Tony grabbed his things and scrambled after her. "Hey, I'm on my way out, too. See ya, Boss."

Tony fell into step next to Ziva. "Hey, I'm off early, too. I came back in last night for a few hours. Want to grab some pizza and beer and watch a movie? It's been a while-"

"I do not mean to be rude, Tony, but not tonight. Not tonight," Ziva said as the doors opened and she stepped on the elevator. "I just need to be alone tonight."

Tony got on with her. Gibbs was definitely right. Something was up and it smelled terrible. "We don't have to go out or anything. We could order a pizza and I have plenty of beer and you know that I've got the best movie collection in D.C.. We could just stay in and be quiet."

Ziva's head was down, eyelids low, so he couldn't see her eyes. "Not tonight, please, Tony." Her voice was husky, choked. "It is Friday."

"Yeah, so? We've always done pizza and movie night on Fridays unless we have the weekend shift," Tony said, genuinely puzzled and extremely concerned. Her voice was all wrong. There was something very unfamiliar in it. He'd only heard it twice before; the first time with that inspector that had been thalium poisoned and just a few months ago when she told him about her sister, Tali. Then it hit him. Tears.

"Not this Friday, Tony." She shook her head, face crumpling slightly. "Not this Friday."

Tony's voice was soft, tender, when he spoke. "Ziva, yes tonight. You shouldn't be alone. We don't have to have pizza and watch movies. We can sit and talk or not talk, but I don't think it's such a good idea for you to be alone tonight."

Ziva's breath hitched. He was being so kind, so caring, so tender, but he didn't get it. As the elevator doors opened to the parking garage, she said, "It is Shabbas. I cannot."

Tony followed her all the way to her car. "Ziva, didn't you open your home up to the team a few months back for Shabbas? Didn't you call us your family?" When she said nothing and stubbornly turned to open her car, he gently grabbed her arm. "Spend Shabbas with family."

Ziva turned to him, for the first time raising her head so he could see her eyes. They were brimming with tears. "I have no family left. I am the last one. I am the last David of my Abba's line." She dissolved into tears that she had been holding back for almost two whole weeks.

Regardless of any other people that may or may not happen to be around, Tony pulled her into a close embrace. She fisted the collar of his sports coat and buried her face in his chest. When he was sure she could listen and understand again, he said softly, "You taught us that Shabbas was about family, not necessarily blood related, but people you loved like they were your family. I was there. I'm a lousy Catholic and not Jewish, but spend Shabbas with me. We'll do whatever you want. Don't be alone tonight, please. Ziva, let me be there. Don't shut me out."

She nodded, sniffling. "We will go to my place and have Shabbas. I was going to do it alone, but...You are right. It might be better now. I will be a lousy companion all evening and probably not eat much and probably be a mess-"

"I don't care, Ziva. You can be a mess with me. I don't care how much you don't eat tonight. You need this. You need the comfort of your own home and the comforting ritual. I want to call Gibbs because he's scared for you. You trust him with your life. Would it be alright if he came, too?" Tony asked. When Ziva nodded and snuggled into his embrace, he dialled Gibbs. "Yeah, can you come to Ziva's in ...half an hour for a family Shabbas?... .Yeah just the three of us tonight. It's going to...yeah. I'm thinking lots of Kosher wine."

It was more than just Tony and Gibbs. Ducky, Abby and Tim showed up, all understanding how much Ziva went through and a huge idea of how much she actually hurt. Scrabbling had happened at the last minute and the more intuitive of the team, which meant everyone, brought Kosher things for the Shabbat table. McGee brought a secondary main dish, besides the roast chicken Ziva already had. The beautifully breaded and cooked white fish sent steam trails into the atmosphere.

Ziva bowed her head in respect for her lapsed faith and more for her display of undying affection from her team. Ziva was touched beyond belief by the love she felt from this unconventional family of hers. No family by blood. This was a family that was chosen, a family of the heart. If any one of them hurt, they all hurt. She was undeniably in severe pain.

Over the Shabbat table, she covered her hair, watching as Abby did the same, out of respect. Ziva began the Kiddush. "Baruch a-toh A-do-noi, E-lo-hai-nu. Melech Ha-olom A-sher Kid-sho-nu, E'mitz-vo-sov. Vi-tzi-vo-nu Le-had-lik Ner Shel Shabbat." Ziva lit the last candle. A slow tear slipped down her face. "Shabbat Shalom." She sat in her chair and wept. Tony, sitting closest to her, drew her in in an embrace. She burried herself in his chest while the rest of the team sat in stunned silence. She wept like she hadn't allowed herself all during the seven day Shiva and the case following. Tony held her, with soft touches from each of her family, Abby and Tim. Ducky and Gibbs the most tender and healing. Tony held on through the torrent. When she finally calmed, she said, "I am sorry. Eat please." And then bolted from the table. Tony rose to go after her, but Gibbs held up a hand and then followed her. She didn't need Tony. She needed Abba.

Gibbs found her face down on her bed, screaming her soul out into a pillow. She had lost every part of who she was in the last two weeks. Her mother...gone; her sister, Tali, gone by a terrorist bomb, her brother, Ari, gone by her own hand; her father, gone by terrorists. She was the last David like he was the last Gibbs. He got that. She was reaching, flailing for family and hanging in mid-air. He understood. He drew her into his embrace. "Ziver, it'll be okay one day. Not today, not today. Your heart family is here and we love you." She felt so small and so fragile in his embrace as she she shook with grief.

"This is why, this is why I told Tony no. Now you all have to see...I am so weak, so weak. I cannot be part of our team." Ziva wept into Gibbs chest.

"No Ziver, you're not weak; you're human. You lost your father in the worst way. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Jackson, dad, like that." He pulled her in tighter. "Every single one of us understands, Ziver. Every one. Let us be your family now. We are your family."

Gradually, she calmed down, her breath coming in soft hitches. "I am being ungrateful. You all came here to help me celebrate and I am in here crying."

Gibbs placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. "You're not ungrateful. You're dealing with emotions that you knew were going to happen eventually. Your father was murdered almost right in front of you. If you hadn't stepped outside, you could be dead now too. You're still grieving. Don't you know that the team is hurting with you? Come back out, kid."

Ziva turned her reddened eyes up to his face and saw nothing but affection there. "Alright. Let me wash my face."

Gibbs placed another soft kiss to her head. "You are loved, you know."

Gibbs re-entered the dining room.

"Boss, how is she?" McGee asked. "I've never seen her-"

"She'll be fine. She's just washing her face. We'd better dig in before everything goes cold," Gibbs said. "Tony, pour the wine and make sure Ziva's glass is never empty."

"Boss, we're not getting her drunk, are we?"

"Nope, just helping her to relax," Gibbs said, taking the first bite of Ziva's roasted chicken. "You'd better dig in. Don't let Ziva's good cooking go to waste."

Everyone took their cues from Gibbs and helped themselves, Tony making sure Ziva had a full plate as well.

Ziva quietly returned to the table, eyes downcast. "I am sorry for that display. It will not happen again."

"Ziver, what did I say?" Gibbs stated. "Do I have to head slap you, David?"

"No." A small smile played over her lips and she looked up at the team. "Thank you for sharing Shabbas with me. How is the chicken?"

"It's awesome! Did you use tumeric or saffron?" Abby gushed.

Ziva smiled a genuine smile. "A little of both, actually. I find they compliment each other."

"You're telling me. This is great, Ziva. You ever get tired of being a NCIS Agent, you should open a restaurant," McGee said, stuffing yet another forkful of Ziva's marinated brisket into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "I could eat your cooking every day."

That drew a small chuckle out of her. When she spoke, her voice was full of warmth. "Then I shall have to have everyone over more often, and I shall have to bring more treats to work for everyone. I guess I am a Jewish mama, after all."

Soft chuckles trickled out from the team. Ducky spoke up. "I have to agree with Timothy, my dear. You are a masterful cook. I want some of your recipes, though I doubt that I can make anything as delicious as you can."

"Thank you, Ducky," Ziva said with a big grin. "I have been to your Thanksgiving and it has always be a delight. Everything was so delicious. I especially liked your sage dressing and the homemade gravy...well, you did give me the recipe."

"More crazy ninja skills to chalk up. David can feed you until you can't move," Tony said, taking a sip of wine.

"I do not think that is an actual ninja skill, Tony," Ziva laughed, sipping her own wine.

"Ziva, what are you doing tomorrow?" Abby asked.

"I do not know. Is there something that you have in mind?"

"I do. I've been thinking of going to the new Korean Spa in Georgetown and I thought you might want to go with me." Abby said, knowing that more distraction, yet something that might help her dear friend heal a little more.

"That sounds great! Do we not have to make reservations?"

Abby beamed, knowing that she could help her friend through her grief. "No, That's the great part! You can just walk in! Let's go tomorrow, Ziva!"

"It is a plan!" Ziva's smile widened. She knew what they were all doing, even if everything was entirely sincere. They were helping her. They understood. They loved her and want to help her through her loss and wanted to help her heal. She was loved.