He is dead. He is dead. He is dead.
The mantra runs through her head, mockingly leering in her face. She has failed him and allowed the enemy to win. If she had been in Vance's house, she could have tackled her father and saved his life. It is her fault that he is dead. Part of her wonders how she can possibly care that he is gone, after all he has done to her: Somalia... Allowing Tali to die... the recent murder... Yet, in the end, he was still her father, her papa.
He is dead.
"Ziva," a familiar voice whispers, warm breath brushing her ear.
She looks up to find Tony's concerned eyes focused on her teary face. "It's time to go, Ziva. There's nothing more you can do here. We have to get Eli to NCIS."
He reaches for her hand and she numbly allows him to pull her to her feet.
Somehow, they end up back at NCIS. She does not remember the drive back. Nor does she remember Gibbs' stony face and McGee's worried glances in her direction. The only part of the drive she does recall is the feeling of Tony's hand gently stroking her head as she cries into his shoulder, soaking his shirt. He is dead. He is dead. He is dead.
That night, Tony holds her while she cries and she knows, with him by her side, she just might make it. She knows that even though her biological family is long gone, she has another family here and now.
He is dead.
He is dead.
He is dead.