Summary:
I wonder what you're doing, I wonder where you are, there's oceans in between us, but that's not very far...
A/N: Okay, I know everyone hates these, so this is gonna be real short. This is my third fic, and I hope you like it. The only thing I ask of you (the reader) is that I have five little reviews after every chapter update, or you won't get another chapter. Also, I would like for you to include in your review, your favorite line or paragraph from the story. Thanks!
Nostalgia
Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone––
Not one, of all the crowd to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Edgar Allan Poe
Part One: Prologue
"Do not scream. Whatever you do, do not scream," Ziva chanted over and over in her head. The bleeding woulds at the corners of her mouth were reason to this sonata. She knew her captors would more than likely break one, or more of her bones to make her scream. This would result in the Chelsea Smile– two grotesque wounds clear up her beautiful olive-toned cheeks forming a 'smile.' The small cuts hurt bad enough. Ziva couldn't imagine what the entire process would feel like. Excruciating, no doubt. The blood from the small wounds was running down her chin, drip, drip, dripping onto the grimy concrete floor of her holding cell. They would come back. Soon. She could only hope for unconsciousness until then.
***
Clomp, clomp, clomp...
Ziva was awakened by the unmistakable drum of boots against the hard, concrete floor. Her captors had come, bearing gifts of torture. He would start with her arms, then, if needed, her legs, whatever it took to make the Israeli scream. He opened her cell door with three different keys, on three different locks. Ziva looked up, the blood now dry on her mouth. He stalked over towards her with a grin plastered on his face.
"I'm going to ask you one more time," he said, pulling her head back by her dirty chestnut locks. "Tell me all you know about NCIS."
Her only reply was a spit in his direction. Painful, but worth it. The man laughed. He stepped over to her chair where she was tied and pulled a hammer out of the back pocket of his jeans. Placing it on her arm about halfway between her wrist and elbow, he tapped it twice before raising it and bringing it down full-force. The bone shattered. Ziva screamed, the pain now in her cheeks making the shattered bone feel like a tiny scratch. Blood pured from her face, pooling on the floor.
Voices could be heard from outside of the door, but Ziva, nor the man, paid any attention to them.
The door burst open.
"NCIS!"
