Title: Choices
Rating: PG
Summary: When you're standing on the precipice of irrevocable change, what thoughts thunder through your mind?
Notes: This is just a little plot bunny that I'd like to see take place during season seven. No real spoilers. The oath at the end was lifted right off the ICE website.
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, they are all the property of CBS and various other entities and I'm not making any money off this.
Reviews are always welcome.
The courtroom benches were not the most comfortable place to sit, especially since the room was a bit too small to hold all the occupants. Every seat was filled and she was rather squashed by the people on either side of her. Only her years of training kept her from sighing and fidgeting as she waited for the proceedings to start.
This day had been a long time in coming and was certainly not something she had ever foreseen for her life. Throughout her childhood and adolescence she had always known she was going to serve her country. She would fight to protect her homeland, giving her life if she had to. This was only possible path she could take and she could not remember a time when she had not known that fact. Her father had made it clear from day one what he expected of his children. Both he and her mother had dedicated their lives to this mission and so would their children. Ari would be his mole. Tali had been destined for the IDF; to become her father's general. And she would be the assassin.
But her mother died of cancer just before she hit her teens. Tali was dead at sixteen from a terrorist bomb on a crowded bus. And Ari had died by her own hand, having forged his own twisted path away from their father. She was only one left to carry on the family business. And the proceedings today would sever this last link to her family. Eli would never forgive her. Her father had no use for anyone that could not benefit his agency, not even his daughter. She had always known that, but to have her Papa turn against her was a greater pain than all the months in Somalia.
Her decision to be in the courtroom today had not been made lightly. And, Tony's innuendo and outright accusations aside, she had not made this decision simply because of her time in North Africa over the summer. In fact, she had been thinking about it since she had been summarily sent back to Tel Aviv after Jenny's death. Leaving Washington the first time had been much more wrenching than she had though it would be. Despite herself, she had begun to set down roots here, something she had never been able to do before. Since joining Mossad, she had rarely been in once place for more than six months. Her apartment in Tel Aviv was sublet out more often than not. Unless she knew she would be in the city for more than a month, she usually just stayed in Eli's guest room or grabbed a bunk in the barracks. She had never allowed herself to set down roots. She would most likely be dead before she was forty and so roots had no point. She had not been lying when she told Gibbs that Mossad officers of his age were rare indeed. The other officers she worked with shared the same viewpoint and fatalistic outlook. None of them ever discussed the future beyond the next op and its projected outcome.
Washington had been different. Her coworkers' attitude towards their personal safety mystified her at first. She had thought for sure that nothing of importance would get done when everyone was concerned with keeping their skin intact. How wrong she had been. Because they cared about each other, their missions tended to have high success rates. For the first time in her professional life, her apartment began to look as though she lived there. Clerks in the neighborhood stores recognized her. She did not have to constantly think about which language to use and as a result her English, always her weakest language, began to improve. When she woke up in the morning, she did not have to take a few seconds to recall where she was and why she was there. The ever-present tension, the wondering when and where Hamas and Hezbollah would strike began to fade.
She enjoyed seeing how the Americans put their history on display for all to see, so proud of their accomplishments. She enjoyed the city itself, as well as the surrounding countryside. Israel was a mountainous, desert country. The soft green rolling hills of Maryland and Virginia were exotic and beautiful to her eyes, once she got used to them. Consistent snow in the wintertime was a wonderment she still took childlike delight in. There was travel and long hours of course, but at the end of the day, she would return to place she could think of as 'home.'
When she had been sent back to Tel Aviv, she had not wanted to leave. Only the fact that it was an order kept her from arguing. Refusing to go would have resulted in a phone call from Eli that ensured she never set foot in the U.S. again.
So she rejoined Mossad and once again began the field assignments that had previously defined her life. And hated it. Constant travel, subterfuge, changing personas and languages. Always operating behind a veil of secrecy and shadows, never sure whom to trust. Not even her teammates. She knew what they thought of her. Their sidelong suspicious glances had never quite hidden their emotions. The Director's daughter, pampered with a plum assignment, unceremoniously dropped into their team and far too Americanized for their tastes. Only Michael had warmed to her and as it turned out, only on Eli's orders.
When Vance recalled her to Washington, she had gone in a heartbeat. And then her heart had broken when Gibbs left her behind.
She had not been lying when she had said she was ready to die. Her emotions, kept under the strictest of control since leaving childhood behind, had been jerked back and forth enough times as to leave her soul raw and chafed. She had no idea who to trust or where she belonged. All she had left was the mission before her and the knowledge that when it was done, so was she. She had thought to die in that bunker and she still could not understand the fact that she had not. Ever since the hood had been pulled off her head to reveal Tony in the chair across from her, her mind had been reeling as she attempted to process that fact that she was still alive. In the end, it had been Gibbs who had carried her out of the bunker. McGee and Tony could barely keep themselves upright, let alone bear her weight much further. Special Forces had the compound secure as they emerged into the bright sunlight and a Humvee had transported them all directly to the waiting aircraft. She had forced herself to stay alert and in control of her emotions until she felt the plane leave ground. Only then had she collapsed in on herself, allowing the tears she had denied for nearly four months to flow. She had sobbed until she gagged, not caring who heard or saw. She did not even notice that it was Gibbs handing her the tissues. Ordinarily she would have been horrified to appear so vulnerable in front of him. Right now, she couldn't have cared less. All that mattered was that the plane was in air and she was on it and Africa was receding behind her.
She had eventually cried herself out and curled up to sleep on one of the crew bunks towards the front of the plane. McGee and Tony were both sleeping up there as well, having been sedated by corpsman before the plane took off. Once the adrenaline had worn off the pain had kicked in, making them both very uncomfortable. The medics had tried to do the same for her but she had refused. She could not handle another needle. She strapped herself down and promptly fell into a sleep so deep it was more like a coma. She had not woken until the plane touched down at Andrews hours later. Through sheer force of will, she had walked off the plane under her own power. As she had done so, she had resolved that she would take control of her own life once and for all.
On paper the process was simple: move to a new city and start a new job. Become part of something permanent.
Nothing is ever quite that simple.
The deal that Director Vance had worked out hinged upon her becoming a US citizen. As soon as her paperwork went though, she would have to go to FLETC for 12 weeks and on her return, would have to work out what was left of her mandatory probationary period. He had also mandated counseling sessions with a department psychologist that were to continue until the counselor decided that she was done. In the meantime, she could continue working as she had with a few exceptions. Chief among them, she could make no arrests whatsoever. Until she became a U. S. citizen she had no legal standing to perform arrests or even read a suspect their rights. Her name could not appear on warrants or search authorizations. She could go into the field, so long as she did not attempt to detain or chase down suspects unless absolutely necessary. She was still permitted to handle paperwork, collect evidence and perform background interviews. Suspect interrogations were strictly off limits. She had initially chafed at the restrictions but in the end obeyed. Until she was officially a naturalized U.S. citizen, her position was precarious.
The murmur of voices around her grew louder as more people crammed themselves into the room. Spectators and participants alike filled the benches and lined the walls. Her acutely trained ears began picking out languages and accents. Farsi, Spanish, French, Tagalog and more rose into the buzz of noise. Parents, children, siblings, friends, cousins and coworkers chattered back and forth as they waited for the judge to arrive. On either side of her, her seatmates whispered back and forth to their companions. Behind her, one man kept reciting the long-memorized words under his breath in rapid fire Italian. As the temperature and noise level rose, she had to bite her lip to keep from snapping at them all to be quiet. She craved a few moments of peace to collect her thoughts and that clearly was not going to happen.
Despite the months of work and study, despite her earlier resolve, she was tempted to flee. Once she went through with this there was no turning back. There were some choices that could never be undone. A glance at her watch told her that it was too late to exit. As she looked up, the bailiff was calling the room to order and announcing the arrival of the judge. For a wild moment, she was five years old again on her first day of school and all she wanted was her mother and father. Someone to hold her hand and tell her that everything would be all right.
In the sudden silence, the Honorable Judge Roy Aikens took his seat at the bench and motioned for those who had seats to take them. Just as he picked up his gavel to begin the proceedings, a small commotion at the door caught her attention. Tears leapt to her eyes at the sight of the small group cramming themselves into the already crowded room.
"I told you it was this one!" Abby voice just barely reached her ears as she turned to look. "Next time try listening to me."
"Are we really going to have do this again? I don't think she had to go through the process twice," McGee shot back.
"We'd have been here on time if you hadn't driven Granny speed McGeek. Are you allergic to the gas-" Tony was cut off by a slap upside the head and a dirty look from Gibbs. At the same time, Abby drove her elbow into McGee's gut and shushed him rather loudly.
"Do you see her anywhere? I would hate for her to think she had to be here by herself." Abby shushed Ducky somewhat more quietly and then nearly fell over waving as she spotted Ziva in the crowd.
"There she is!"
"Quiet please!" The judge rapped the gavel twice and courtroom fell silent. "This is the swearing-in ceremony for U.S. citizenship. If anyone is here for something else, you're in the wrong room. I suggest you find the right one or settle into watch the fun." A smattering of laughter swept across the room, breaking the tension.
As the judge began to speak about the seriousness and weight of the oath being taken today, her mind began to wander.
How had they known? She hadn't told anyone about ceremony today. Other than Vance getting her paperwork in order, she had not thought anyone would really care. Clearly, she had been wrong.
Even after all these years, this team could still surprise her and that fact was both unsettling and comforting all at once. NCIS had been the first place where she could come to work and not constantly have to play a game. Find the murderer, find the leak, find the kidnapper. Her coworkers were not looking at her sideways for being the Directors daughter. There was no constant scheming, secrecy or lurking in shadows. She could depend on people that were themselves, not playing a role all the time. And they had accepted her as one of their own with very little opposition.
Abby had put up the most resistance five years ago and that was understandable. Of course she would have been standoffish and somewhat cold towards the woman whose brother had killed her friend. And Abby being Abby, the coldness had begun to thaw almost immediately and had disappeared completely the night Gibbs nearly died. Amazing what slapping each other could accomplish. Female friendship was still a slightly alien concept to her. Her sister had been the only woman she had ever been close to and after Tali died she did not bother with anyone else. She could never quite trust the women she worked with. There was always an edge of competition between them that she could not understand and had no energy or interest in trying to diffuse. It was easier to make friends with men instead.
McGee, on the other hand, had welcomed her from day one; helping her find her way through a new city and adjust to a new job. Sure they bickered and teased each other but he had always been so transparently nice and eager to please that she could not help but like him. McGee had gone out of his way to never make her feel like the 'new girl', something she appreciated greatly. She was quite sure that no one had given him the same courtesy when had joined the team. The bits and pieces she had picked up over the years implied that he had been subjected to quite a lot of hazing from all sides. The animosity between McGee and DiNozzo had been obvious to her from day one. She had wondered sometimes, back then, if he had liked Kate any better. Of the team, he had seemed to be the least affected by her death. References made by Tony over the years gave her the impression that Kate had not treated McGee much better than DiNozzo had.
At least McGee and Tony seemed to be getting along better in recent months. She had not heard Tony refer to McGee as 'Probie' once since her return from Africa (apparently the title now belonged to her) although the nicknames, teasing, bickering and snooping continued unabated. And McGee seemed to be returning the shots with more ease than she ever seen before. The two of them reminded her of Ari and Tali growing up. Her big brother and her younger sister had detested each other as children. Tali was much too feminine for Ari's tastes, always preferring to play with her dolls or read a book. And Ari was far too rough for Tali. But once they grew older, they got along much better although they always pretended that they did not.
Her brother and sister had been gone for years and yet miraculously they were still here. Every day since leaving Somalia she cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. Grief for Michael had not been the driving force towards her presumed death. It was the knowledge that she had abandoned her family when she stayed in Tel Aviv the second time. What a fool she had been, not seeing what she had until it was too late. She had not been lying when she said that Eli was all but dead to her. Her mother had been the parent in the household. Eli had taken little interest in his children until they were old enough to be of use to him. Her childhood had ended with the death of her mother and so had her family. She had not even realized that she had been absorbed into this new family until she had lost them.
Her time in Africa had given her plenty of time to beat herself up over the choices she had made. After the first few days, her captors had paid little attention to her after they extracted the information that they wanted. She had been left alone for hours at a time, always bound and hooded. Her wrists and ankles would be bound for long stretches of time, until her muscles were so painfully cramped that she could barely move. The beatings had stopped after the first few days but she was treated roughly whenever they touched her as she was moved from place to place. They had tormented her by doing just enough to keep her alive, not allowing her to die until they chose. As the days passed, she had begun to hope that they would just get it over with already. Being rescued had been like a dream, one that she still had to occasionally convince herself was real. And then Tony would make some sort of inappropriate wisecrack or joke and it was all she could do not to burst into tears in relief at being home.
Home. A strange and valuable concept for her. This was her home now and her team was her family. There was no going back. She might still be an Israeli citizen on paper but deep in her heart, she knew she would never return. No more summers on the beach at Haifa, no hiking in the mountains on the Jordanian border. She would not walk down the street and hear the buzz of Arabic and Hebrew mixed together as shoppers and vendors surged through the street stalls. There would be no more pieces of paper slipped into the Wall in Jerusalem.
The judge had finished speaking and was now motioning for all the participants to rise for the oath of citizenship. Her breath caught in her throat and she struggled to get to her feet, the room suddenly swirling around her. The enormity of this choice seemed to settle its weight on her shoulders. For a moment, it felt as though she could not breathe. She barely noticed the commotion next to her, until her left hand was enveloped in a firm grip she recognized all too well. She had last felt it in a bunker in Somalia. The cranky Frenchman Tony had unceremoniously ousted from his seat continued to grumble as he made space but she did not care. Her focus was narrowed to only two points: the oath she was about to recite and the hand she was now clinging to for dear life.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your right hand and recite after me: 'I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God.' "
And with those words, it was done. Her choice was made, now and forever. She was vaguely aware of the cheers and applause now echoing through the courtroom, as well as the arms encircling her in a hug. Abby must have climbed over benches to get there that fast. She felt a momentary pang of loss as DiNozzo let go of her hand for Ducky to embrace her and Gibbs to shake her hand and McGee to crowd in for his turn. Around her her family was chattering away, talking over each other and arguing back and forth as they debated the best way to go and celebrate. For a just a moment, she closed her eyes and let herself pretend that she was ten years old again with her siblings and parents. And then the moment had passed. With a whispered 'goodbye' she left the courtroom and walked towards her future.
The End.