She didn't know what exactly drew her to this particular place. She had been here once before, with Gibbs. It was here that she had admitted to Gibbs, for the first time, how important he was to her. She had fond memories of this place.
Perhaps that was why she came. Perhaps she was seeking another fond memory.
Only Gibbs wasn't here. Gibbs was at NCIS, dealing with the aftermath of the earlier events of the day. After Malachi, and Ziva's interrogation, and her acceptance as an agent, the entire team was emotionally tired out.
Ziva had wanted to go home and sleep, really she did. But she hated the nightmares that were bound to make a visit. She really wanted to just forget all of her ailments and just... Well she really didn't know what she wanted. Everything seems unclear to her, since she got back.
Even her own desires.
She has forgiven Tony. She has come to terms with Gibbs' decision to leave her. And yet, nothing feels the same. Tony's usual antics have been, without a doubt, toned down a bit. Their flirtatious relationship has been replaced with one of tension and thin ice.
And Gibbs... She's not even sure what he thinks. She knows he loves her. He proved that today. But everything just seems so different. Backwards. Upside Down.
So maybe that was what led her to this place. She just wants it to be like old times.
She calls to the bartender to get her a Ginger Ale. Despite her desire to drink away her problems, she knows that she has her first full day as an NCIS agent tomorrow. She really has no desire to be hung over for that.
Sitting in the same spot that she sat in so long ago with her father figure by her side doesn't seem to trigger anything. All she can think about is how damn STUPID she is.
She never should have left them. If she had not left them, she would not be in this position right now. She would be sleeping soundly. She would not have scars covering her back. And she would NOT be here, trying to remember what it was like before everything got so damn complicated.
Sure, Gibbs had been the one to leave her there. But it was HER fault for making him choose. She knows that now.
She acted like such a bitch. She tackled an injured Tony and held a gun to his chest, all for trying to protect her. She said she didn't trust him, after all he'd done. And she MADE Gibbs choose between his son and his daughter.
She broke the hearts of the people she loves most.
So how in the hell was he not mad at her? And not only was Tony not mad at her, but he risked his LIFE to get revenge for her supposed death.
She does not deserve someone like him.
Try as she might, she just can't understand his motives. She can't grasp the fact that they MISSED HER, that they MOURNED her. They couldn't have, they SHOULDN'T have.
She drains the last of her Ginger ale and grabs her coat. She has to get out of here. The only thing she found in this place was what used to be; what was no more. It only served to further depress her.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" she hears the bartender say. She turns around.
"Yes?" she asks bitterly, sort of annoyed with the hold-up.
"...Nothing, you just seem... Extremely familiar to me. Have I met you somewhere before?" the man asks. She frowns.
"I went here once a year ago?" she suggests. He shakes his head.
"I only started working here 6 months ago," he tells her.
"Then, I am sorry, but you must have me mistaken for somebody else-" she begins, but is cut off.
"Oh! I remember... But no. That's silly. It's impossible," the bartender tells her.
"What is?" she asks, completely lost. The man's face is clearly deep in thought as he came out from behind the bar. He walked over to the wall opposite the bar, and stops in front of a bulletin board covered in pictures of fallen soldiers.
The man points to a picture that is right in the middle of the board.
Ziva walks up behind him, and gasps.
It was a picture of the team, one that was taken on Thanksgiving, the year before she left. The picture has been folded back so she was the only one visible, but you could obviously see Gibbs' hand on her shoulder.
With a trembling hand, she reaches out and grabs the picture. She turns it over in her hand. On the back side was writing.
"Ziva David
November 12, 1979- May 28, 2009
Beloved daughter, sister, and friend. She will be greatly missed."
Ziva feels like she is staring at her own grave.
She unfolds the picture and runs her finger across it. The smiles on their faces were so joyous, filled with pure happiness. None of them had smiled like that in a long time.
She tucks the picture in her wallet, fighting back the tears. She knows now why they never gave up on her, why they forgave her.
She is family. For family, you will do anything; even travel to Africa and subject yourself to torture just for vengeance for their death.
She knows that no matter what, her team will stand beside her. They are her family. It is because of them that she is alive to be taking this picture down. They love her, unconditionally.
No one had loved her unconditionally in a long time. Her father's love was anything but. She always had to fight for his approval, for his love. She had to pretend to be someone she wasn't.
The relief and happiness that comes with knowing that she will never be alone again hits her like an avalanche. She never has to pretend with them. She never has to worry about winning their approval.
Ziva David is loved, and she will never have to pretend again.
A/N: Merry Christmas everybody! I hope you liked this:) please tell me what you think and leave a review!