Burned
Rifiuto: Non Mirena
Summary: "So this is how your boss operates? Sends you to burn her." AU Season 7. McGiva. Written 2012.
Unreliable.
How dare he call her unreliable.
She'd given him everything- her childhood, her heart, her very soul, nearly her life- and for what?
She was the best agent he'd turned out, and this is how he repays her.
Her own father.
Dared to name her a traitor to Mossad and Israel.
A traitor.
Her father.
And, unfortunately, in Mossad, such a sentence resulted in death.
She stumbled down the street; she wasn't sure how she'd gotten here, or even really where she was at the moment. All she recognized was the chill of the rain as it pounded the sidewalk beneath her feet, soaked her clothes, and the throbbing pain in her head from where the bullet had grazed her. How she'd managed to survive the firing squad- because things were never simple where her father was concerned- was a complete mystery to her, let alone escape Israel and return to America.
Or, at least, she assumed she was back in America.
At the moment, everything was hazy.
Laughter soon drew her attention, and she turned; it had been a while since she'd seen him, but her frazzled mind recognized his gait instantly. And the girl at his side- she'd grown up in the three years since her case had been closed. They rushed through the rain, holding an umbrella over their heads, laughing about something. Clearly, they'd either been to a movie or out to dinner or something-
The laughter, however, stopped as he laid eyes on her. She watched his lips move, but heard no sound; he pulled away from his sister, stepping out from the protection of the umbrella into the rain, towards her, concern in his green eyes. She cocked her head, struggling to hear as he spoke, but the sound of the rain was soon replaced with a ringing- that familiar dial-up tone- accompanied by the pounding of the blood in her veins.
And then, all of a sudden, "Ziva? What... what are you... here?"
She reached for him, fingers shaky, just missing him. She stumbled, the exhaustion from the last few... however long she'd been gone catching up to her, and she stumbled, managing to slam into his arms as she hit the ground. A chill began to settle in her bones, and she found her gaze locked on his face; she heard no calls for help, no orders for Sarah to call an ambulance, or help him get her into the apartment building, nothing but the pounding of the rain and her blood.
And suddenly, the rain and pounding of her heart was drowned out by his voice.
"Ziva! Ziva, answer me!" Feeling peace for the first time since her debacle, she let her eyes close. "Ziva!"
She awoke hours later, to find herself buried in the comforter of a bed; instantly, a familiar face appeared before her, and she sighed, reaching out to gently brush her fingers against his cheek, relief flooded her at the feel of his skin. He was real. "Mc... Gee."
"What are you doing here, Ziva?" His voice as soft as he took her hand. "We thought you'd died."
She swallowed, briefly meeting his gaze before slowly shifting; Sarah was on the other side of the bed, watching her. "I was... ready to die." She met the college student's gaze, wondering silently how she must look in Sarah's eyes. "I..." She turned back to Tim. "Had only death in my heart." She met his gaze. Her heart began to calm as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.
"What are you doing here, Ziva? You're not supposed to be alive, let alone back in D.C."
The siblings waited, giving her time to gather her thoughts, and she took the time to study them both. Sarah had certainly grown up in the time since they'd last met, and Tim... "I thought for sure I had not survived. I did not mean to live through it."
"Live through what?" Tim met his sister's gaze, and after a moment, she got up. "I'm gonna go make some tea. How 'bout I make you a cup, Ziva?"
The chattering of her teeth and the shaking of her limbs woke her about midnight, and she slowly lifted her head from the pillow. At some point during the night, Sarah must have left, returning to Waverly, and Tim had joined her in the bed. Though they lay with considerable space between them, the feel of his hand on her hip brought a comfort she couldn't explain.
Slowly, she pushed herself up, quickly looking around. A moment passed, before she lay back down again, scooting closer to him. After tucking her head beneath his chin and her arms between their bodies, she let herself go back to sleep. The movement, however, caused Tim's eyes to snap open. He glanced down, and after a moment, slid his arms around her, holding her close.
"Why didn't she go to Tony? I mean, no offense, Timmy, but you and Ziva have always been friends. She's never seemed... you know, interested in you like she's seemed in Tony."
"I know, Sar, I'm just as baffled as you are. I mean... it's evident she and Tony have something going on, always have, from the moment she joined the team."
It was silent, before,
"You love her, don't you, Timmy? You've always loved Ziva."
"She's my partner, Sarah."
"But she's not just any partner, is she?"
"... what I want to know is how exactly she ended up back in D.C. When Gibbs and Tony returned, neither said a word, just that Ziva had decided to stay. And... we never heard anything from her... we thought she'd died, and then... then you and I find her on the street in Silver Spring... what could possibly send her fleeing back to D.C.?"
"I did not come back voluntarily, Tim." The siblings turned as Ziva slipped away from her hiding place and into the kitchen, looking the worse for wear in one of Tim's MIT shirts. Her hair was a mess and she was pale, if not sick thanks to exposure. They waited, silently, for her to continue. She swallowed thickly, unsure of the best way to tell them-
"I was burned."
