"Zikaron" - english transliteration of the Hebrew word for "Memory."

Prologue

May, 2008.

"Goodnight, Kelly."

She peeked at him out of a closed eye and scrunched up her face a little, her small brows furrowed – it only took him a moment to correct himself – he'd said the wrong name as he bent down to kiss her on the forehead, and as his lips met her temple he flinched and he was already mumbling –

"'Night, Madel – Emmy."

-to her in a careful, apologetic way. He hesitated before he sat back, and she smiled at him and nodded, closing her eyes. His hand lingered on her shoulder and he squeezed tightly, apologizing again, and on his lips were the words –

"Don't tell Mommy."

-but Mommy had come in to supervise him reading to her, and she could hear anything – Mommy had impeccable hearing when it came to catching Daddy – and Madeleine heard her say 'Jethro' in a sharp, soft voice as he got up and left the room.

He shut Madeleine's door tightly and she frowned, turning over and reaching for a stuffed animal – she liked to sleep with the door open a crack, so she could see across the hall to their bedroom – but he kept forgetting that. She'd have to wait a little bit, and then run and open it herself – she didn't want him to feel bad for forgetting again. She closed her eyes and decided to count to sixty – a whole minute – and even use the word Mississippi to make it like real, genuine seconds. By then, Daddy would probably be in the basement, or maybe watching Mommy watch the news – but probably the basement – and he'd never know he messed up again.

Madeleine was trying very hard to make Daddy feel like he wasn't messing up. It didn't bother her that much. She didn't like being called Kelly – mostly because it made her feel like she wasn't as good or as cute as her dead sister – but she knew his head was hurt really badly, and he wasn't doing it on purpose. That's exactly what Ziva kept telling her – that he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Ziva and Abby and even Tony said nicer things than what Mr. Mike Franks had said before he left – but Mommy had yelled at him, when she overheard – Madeleine wasn't sure if she liked that guy; he'd been gruff and mean and growly, and he'd made Daddy act like McGee acted sometimes – a probie – and he'd said –

"He just has to get used to you, pumpkin."

-and Madeleine didn't like being called pumpkin at all, and she didn't think her own father should have to get used to her. Mommy had been furious that Mr. Mike Franks said that; she'd yelled at him right in front of Madeleine, and she usually didn't lose her temper that badly in front of her daughter.

Madeleine opened her eyes and stared at her stuffed animal – his name was Tin Man and he was a grey bear. She'd gotten him at a carnival two years ago – Tony won him for her. She stared at his glassy, marble-like eyes and scrunched her nose, frowning. She'd accidentally lost track of her counting in her head, and she tried hard to remember where she was.

That's when she heard a door slam, and her father's voice as he raised it.

"—the hell did you do that for, Jen?"

She widened her eyes at Tin Man, and opened her mouth a little. She didn't hear her mother answer, but she raised her eyebrows. Then she heard some muffled, tense words, and it got quiet again. She sat up a little, completely abandoning her count. She heard footsteps, and feet went past her door.

"—can't just cut off the electricity – "

"I said I wanted to talk to you – you can't just shut yourself in the basement, Jethro – "

It sounded like her mother was going into the bathroom, because the voices were so close. There was nothing, and then she heard her mother speak again –

"Keep your voice down. Don't wake her up."

Daddy didn't get quieter, though, even though Mommy did and the footsteps faded away – they were going back to the living room.

"What the hell do you want to talk about that can't wait – "

"Can't wait?" Mommy did raise her voice now. "I've been waiting three weeks and you haven't gotten better. You haven't pulled it together. I'm not doing this. I can't keep doing this."

"What are you talkin' about, Jen?" demanded Daddy loudly.

Madeleine got up and crept towards her door. She opened it a little and knelt down, peering out. She could hear better with it opened slightly. She stared across the hall into the empty bedroom – her parents were down the hall.

" – down in the basement, pretending you're working on that boat – but you're just hiding, trying to minimize time with me so you don't slip up, don't call me Shannon, don't call your daughter Kelly – "

"'M not pretending! Boat's a lot of work!"

"You're missing the point – you called her Kelly again, Jethro – you're not getting better; you're getting worse. This was understandable right after the coma, it made sense – now it's scary, and it's unacceptable – "

Her father said something nasty – bad words – and she heard a slamming noise, like he'd kicked something. Madeleine winced and bit her lip – her parents bickered often, but it always seemed like a game. This didn't sound playful or funny. It sounded like they were really fighting.

"—some slack, Jenny, I had to get seventeen years back in three days – "

"I understand that! The point is – you aren't getting it back. Two days ago, you said something about missing Madeleine's birth because you were deployed – you got her name right, but the rest is all wrong – you keep calling DiNozzo Decker, and those are your good days because at least then you call me Jenny consistently and not 'Shan-Jen' – "

"Christ, Jenny, it's just the words gettin' mixed up in my head, s'not like I forgot who you are or who Emmy is – "

"It is like that, Jethro, it is! Do you honestly not understand that you are scaring Madeleine? You're hurting her?"

"She's fine, Jen, it's you who's so goddamn insecure about the whole thing – like I'm gonna run off and leave you – "

"No. No! This isn't insecurity, this is – "

"You don't want to get married, but I remember for a second that I had another wife and it's all to hell for you –"

"Goddamnit, Jethro, you're deliberately ignoring me!"

Mommy was shouting now, and Madeleine leaned against her wall, her ear against the open door crack.

"Madeleine is fine – "

"Madeleine has been listening to you call her Kelly since you woke up!" Jenny broke in loudly. "Madeleine has been opening her door at night because she doesn't sleep with it shut – but Kelly did. Madeleine has been quietly picking bananas out of her Cheerios in the morning because she hates them – but Kelly didn't. Madeleine has listened to you read Kelly's favorite story to her for the past week because she's scared you'll get mad at her if she corrects you – and Madeleine has heard you call her mother by the wrong woman's name too many fucking times for this to be okay."

Madeleine pulled her knees up to her chest, a lump in her throat – Mommy was telling the truth, but Madeleine didn't want her to yell at Daddy about it and make him feel bad. It was just his head that was all scrambled –

Three weeks ago, he'd been in an explosion and they had been scared he was going to die. Tony had to take over the team and Mommy had to be at NCIS all the time and no one would tell Madeleine what was really going on until Daddy woke up – and then for three days he hadn't known who Madeleine or Mommy were, he'd just been confused and withdrawn – and he'd cut his hair so short Madeleine thought he looked like a soldier on TV.

Then there had been a big, awful case at NCIS that ended with lots of people dead – and both of her parents had been furious, and Mr. Mike Franks had been around trying to fix Daddy – and then quick as a snap Mommy had tried to make everything normal again – she decided they just needed to go back to a routine and it would just click for Daddy.

But it wasn't working. Mommy knew it, and Madeleine knew it – and Daddy probably knew it too, but he was stubborn and he wouldn't want to admit something like that.

Madeleine sat forward a little bit, shaking her head and trying to hear more – her parents were yelling now, back and forth, quickly – sometimes she couldn't understand a lot of it, and they kept moving around. She was afraid to peek out more, because she didn't want to get caught out of bed.

"—need time, Jen—"

"—no, therapy – and – "

"—not seeing a goddamn shrink—"

"—I'll take Madeleine to my house until – "

"—you take her away from me and so help me God, Jenny – "

"—listen to yourself!" Mommy screamed hoarsely. "You're threatening me, Jethro – "

"I wouldn't hurt you –

"I know you wouldn't hurt me – you aren't you, you're – you're – you're Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs, I don't know him, Maddie doesn't know him! I don't know who you are right now and I cannot have it around her anymore – "

"Then you can go, Jen, - you go right ahead and move back to your goddamn townhouse – but I'll be damned if you take Emmy with you – "

Madeleine scrambled back as she heard footsteps, and Daddy stormed into his bedroom and thrust the light on. She heard him storming around, and then Mommy ran in.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded in a lowered voice.

"Packing your things," Daddy growled.

Mommy did something – she laughed, but maybe it was crying – and she put her hands on her hips.

"Stop – Jethro, stop this – stop!" she ordered aggressively.

Daddy must have stopped. Madeleine held her breath and tried not to cry – but her eyes were stinging and she felt sick – she wanted them to stop. She didn't think Mommy was being very nice – but Mom was always right, she was. She had been right when she sent Madeleine to live in America, and she'd been right to keep Ziva here away from mean old Eli. Madeleine knew she was right about this, too. That didn't stop her from being eight years old and wishing she could just wave a magic wand and make it so the explosion never happened.

"No," she heard Daddy say firmly.

"Yes."

Mommy sounded resigned.

"No – "

"It isn't negotiable. I spoke to him over the weekend. You – "

"You're kicking me out?"

"You are going to leave – you are going to get better – and you can come back when your head is clear and you know exactly who you're living with, and what your life is –"

"Jen – "

"You have to grieve all over again, Jethro, and so help me God you're going to do it right this time – I know Madeleine forced you to do it eight years ago – but this time, you can't use us as a crutch – you might not even be having this problem if you'd just let it go—"

"I am not going to let it go, Jenny – they were murdered!" Daddy bellowed. "You leave me, you take Madeleine, you send me to Siberia – it doesn't change anything! They're still dead! It's still gonna kill me – "

"That's exactly what I need you to realize!" shouted Mom over him, standing her ground. "You're going to Mexico – you're going to be alone, to grieve, to hate yourself, to deal with this – without distractions, without ways to numb yourself – "

"Without my daughter!"

"Yes, without your daughter!" yelled Mommy. "Without her, without me – maybe that will teach you how goddamn important we are to you and you can begin to understand how painful it is to live with you when you're like this – "

"You sure I'll come back, Jen?" he snarled suddenly.

It was mean, and cruel, and Madeleine saw Mommy take a step back and lower her hand from her hip. Madeleine stood up and opened her door, her heart beating very fast. She blinked her eyes and swallowed a few times, creeping out hesitantly – they'd probably stop fighting if they saw her.

"If you think that what I'm making you do now is the end of our relationship, then that's my answer. That's the answer to me wondering if I'll ever be able to live up to Shannon. I can live with you not coming back," she said, "but if you break my daughter's heart like that, I'll cut yours out."

Madeleine clutched the edge of her pajama shirt in her hands and rubbed her foot against her ankle, staring at them. Daddy saw her first, and he stared at her silently, his eyes hard and cool. When he said nothing, Mommy whirled around, and she turned so pale she looked sick, and Madeleine was even more scared.

She hadn't ever heard her parents threaten each other before. She wondered if they used to be like this, before she was born – sometimes, Daddy said Mom made him a better person, and Mommy rolled her eyes and said he softened her edges, too – maybe before Madeleine, they had always been like this.

"Madeleine," Mommy began gently – but she sounded so tense, it wasn't comforting.

"Is Daddy leaving?" Madeleine asked.

"No," he said immediately: stubbornly.

"Madeleine," Jenny said again.

"Are you getting divorced?"

"Your mother seems to think so," Daddy said harshly, and Mommy whirled around.

"Divorced?" she said. "We're not married – Jethro, we're not married."

He thrust out his hand.

"You think I wore a tux in front of your family for f – " he broke off, his eyes flickering a little.

"I'm not her," Mommy said coldly. "You never married me."

Daddy looked stricken, then blank.

"I know," he grunted, and he rubbed his jaw.

Madeleine stood there, watching them.

"Jen," Daddy said. "It'd help if you – put your hair up," he muttered.

She stood there, and Madeleine looked up and noticed she was crying – Mommy was crying. She wiped her cheeks violently and looked back to Madeleine. She took a few steps, crouched down, and smiled.

"Go back to bed, sweetheart," she said softly. "I will come lay with you until you fall asleep, okay? I promise. Two minutes, and I'll come, okay?"

Madeleine looked past her. She felt better now that Mommy was touching her, putting her warm, caring hands on her shoulders, but she wanted to know Daddy was going to be okay. She bit the insides of her cheeks and furrowed her brow, trying to think of something to say.

"I don't mind picking out the bananas," she whispered.

Her father stared at her, and he sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, his elbows colliding with his knees. He put his head in his hands. Mommy turned around and looked at him, and when Daddy looked up, he met her eyes and nodded – like he understood.

"Go with your mom, Kel – " Madeleine winced, but tried to smile. "—Madeline."

He tripped over his words correcting himself, and Madeleine said:

"Emmy."

She tried to be helpful, but it looked like she just made him feel worse.

"And it's just – 'maddah-lynn,' she whispered. "Not line."

Her father gave her a pained look.

"That movie you watch," he started, half-hearted, gruff. "The twelve little girls, in two straight lines…" he trailed off, as his little girl shook her head, and Jenny mouthed –

Kelly.

Daddy got up and walked into the bathroom. He shut the door, and Madeleine heard it lock. She looked to her mother with wide green eyes, and Mommy leaned forward and pulled Madeleine in close, hugging her tightly.

She kept whispering, softly, an old Hebrew lullaby, and Madeleine stared at the closed bathroom door.

Things happened very quickly after the big fight. Madeleine had breakfast the next morning in a very normal environment – tense normal, she could tell – with no bananas in her cereal. She went to school, and when she came home, Mommy was there early and Daddy was packing.

Mommy told her Daddy was going to Mexico for a while to heal some more. Mr. Mike Franks was going to take care of him, but Daddy wasn't ready to talk to Madeleine about it yet. She tried to sound calm and light about it, but Madeleine sensed she was still upset.

She cooked dinner, and then Madeleine went and watched Daddy pack. He never said anything, but he smiled at her and kissed her forehead when she went to her room and got a stuffed animal and brought it to him. She went back in to her room when it was time to read books – but Mommy did the reading, and that night, the house was completely silent when the door was left cracked open.

Then suddenly they were at the airport right before security, and Daddy had only a big green military backpack with him, and Mommy was hugging Madeleine tightly to her side.

"You gonna tell me when I can come back?" he asked gruffly.

Mommy took a deep breath.

"You have to figure that out," she said firmly.

He was silent.

"Jen," he said.

Mommy shook her head. Madeleine didn't think she wanted to hear him apologize or anything, it might sting too much, or make it harder to say goodbye. Madeleine knew she didn't really want Daddy to go.

Instead of trying again, Daddy sank to his knees and reached for Madeleine. She darted to him, and smiled when he gripped her shoulders and met her eyes bravely, clearing his throat.

"You don't remember this," he said gruffly, "but it's like Israel."

Madeleine nodded slowly, listening.

"I couldn't always stay in Israel, but I didn't forget you," her father went on stiffly. His jaw was all locked up tight, like it was hurting him to talk. "I always came back."

She nodded again, and she reached in to the little purse she brought with her and pushed some coloured paper into his hands.

"Mommy said it's okay to write me letters," she said in a small voice. She pointed. "I wrote 'Emmy' on the top for you, so it's easier to remember."

He looked down, and that's when Gibbs knew Jen was right – he had to go; he had to get it together, snap out of this – he had to get better. He couldn't be Madeleine's father if she needed to write her name on paper for him so he'd get it right.

He folded the paper and tucked it into his jacket close to his heart. He pulled her close and kissed the side of her head, hugging her tightly. He closed his eyes – he didn't know when he'd see her again, and he tried to believe what he'd said: this was like Israel, and he could do it –- for Madeleine.

He swallowed hard and took a steadying breath.

"I love you, baby," he said hoarsely, just low enough for only her to hear.

She nodded. She knew he did; she knew he always would. He kissed her temple again, and she gave him a peck on the cheek as he reluctantly let her go, let her walk back to her mother. Madeleine leaned against Mommy, and wondered what she'd say to him before he left.

Mommy stepped forward and rested her hand on his chest lightly.

"I love you," she said clearly, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth.

When she pulled back, Daddy stared at her, and the words Madeleine had heard him use before – not all the time, but enough – never came – and that's when Daddy seemed to look like he understood, and Mommy nodded her head slightly.

"When you can say it again," she said quietly. "That's when."

She answered his early question – and he set his jaw with resolve.

Madeleine snuggled closer to her mother's side, and vaguely remembered that there had been a time, when she was little, when she never heard Daddy tell her mother he loved her.

Hours later, he trudged across an uneven, sandy Baja beach, a cap pulled low over his eyes to hide him from the boiling sun. He headed towards a ramshackle cottage on the edge of the ocean, thinking hazily of the desert heat of Israel, and of the first time he'd walked in Tel Aviv – the first time he'd met Ziva David –

That was another time he'd walked heavily and uncertainly towards something he hadn't figured out yet – that was when he'd found out Jen was back in his life; when he'd found out about Madeleine.

Now – he trudged lost, less curious, more resigned – and the redhead was behind him instead of in front; it wasn't Ziva meeting him, it was Mike Franks, and the only thing he could think of was Madeleine's wide blue – no, they were green – eyes as he left with no idea when he was coming back.

It made him think of the last time he'd seen Kelly.

"Probie," shouted Mike, slapping him on the back and squinting in the sunlight. He threw a cigarette down and put his hands out, yanking Gibbs' bag off his shoulder. "What the hell are you doin' here?"

Gibbs looked up, blinking in the sun. He cleared his throat, and shrugged – half-mumbled an answer.

"Spit it out," barked Franks, and Gibbs shrugged again.

"Mishpokhe," he grunted.

"The hell's that, Jethro?" Franks groused.

Gibbs glanced around – hot sand, hot air, sparkling water – isolation for miles. He tilted his head back and shook it, blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision – figure out who he was seeing, who he was missing, and why he had to be here.

He thought about it too long, until Franks gave him a rough slap to the back of the head, and asked again – and Gibbs answered Mike's question –

"That's what I got to remember."

surprise, bitches.
i bet you thought you'd seen the last of this.

-Alexandra
story #212

-Happy Birthday to Madeleine!