It had been three days. Three days since Irayna's world had been stomped on. It was no longer spinning but was a flat disk, floating aimlessly with no purpose, just a flat disk.
People patted her head when they walked by, they cooed in mock sympathy "I am so sorry", they tried to offer awkward gifts but then they disappeared. When a healthy middle-aged guy dies, people tend to stay away. In case it's contagious.
She hadn't done much in these past three days except cry. When she was all dried out, she practiced her violin, because her father loved hearing her play it. Her mother did too. She would always say, You could go to Julliard tataleh. Sometimes, when her mother wasn't busy, they would play a duet. Irayna on violin and her mother on piano. Her father would stand in the doorway and watch them, that funny look on his face.
It was dark the first time she heard her mother cry. It was the second night after it happened, the first being spent in a hospital waiting room with her aunt, wondering if either of her parents would come back out. She had gone into her mother's room, the lighting flashing around, making it feel as though the world were ending. Her mother had asked her if she was okay. Unlike other people, who only asked as something to fill the awkward silence, her mother actually cared. When she had shook her head, her mother had patted the place beside her on the bed and she climbed up.
It was a while before she felt a wet patch on the back of her head. Her first thought was that the ceiling had a leak or that something was spilt. Then she heard small snuffly noises and she knew, she just knew that it was her mom. Her mother hadn't cried when she'd found out, or when she had to tell Irayna but she was now. In the darkness and she thought Irayna was asleep, when she thought nobody could see her, when she thought it was safe.
….
It was sunny the day of the funeral, too sunny for Irayna's liking, She thought her mom would have been happy; she liked the sun, apparently it reminded her of her home when she was little. But today she wasn't smiling, she didn't even have that wistful look on her face. Today she was putting on her 'ninja face' as her dad had called it. The one nobody could see behind.
There was lots of people there. Everyone from NCIS, some people from Baltimore PD and the rest just from knowing him around. Even Jeanne Benoit was there, much to the team's and Ziva's displeasure. But this wasn't about her, or the past. It was about burying a much-loved father, husband and best-friend. It was about celebrating the life of the one and only, Anthony DiNozzo.
Ziva's hand was digging in to Irayna's shoulder, but she didn't protest. She knew her mother needed her right now, that she needed her more than anything. Ziva had tried to be brave for her little seven year old. She was hurting and it was Ziva's job to make sure she didn't but she had failed. She knew she was a terrible mother but they had always managed okay, until now.
After the service, the crowd started to disperse, thinning until only the main people remained. Irayna stuck close to her mother, who, in turn, kept one arm around Irayna at all times. She wasn't about to let her out of her sight, she rarely did to either of her family. But that one time she hadn't, had caused a death so painful it seemed unreal.
"Ziva," Abby began softly. She looked oh so tired, as if the last four days had sucked all the life and energy out of her. Her hair was in pigtails but that was the only sign of original Abby. Her face was devoid of make-up and she didn't have her dog collar on. Her voice was husky with emotion but she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry in front of Irayna. "I'll take her if you want, if you want to be alone. We'll probably just go to the park or something."
Ziva looked indecisive, then she looked at her daughter. Irayna knew what her mom was thinking; she'd promised not to let Irayna out of her sight, but she also knew it was bad for the child to be around sadness all day. Irayna nodded enthusiastically; she wanted to go with Abby and let her mommy cry, let her cry when no-one could see her so she could still look like she had remained strong. Finally, Ziva sighed and knelt beside Irayna, "You can go with Abby if you want, tataleh. But I want periodic phone calls every half hour and tell me if you go somewhere different." Ziva kissed her daughter on the forehead and stood up. Irayna saw a shadow of something on her face; a mixture of some emotions she couldn't quite name. Whatever it was, it passed as soon as it had come, as if it had never been there at all.
"Shalom," She bid her mother farewell as she walked of hand in hand with her Aunt Abby. It was only when she was safely out of sight that Ziva let the tears fall and, just as she had suspected, they were ignored.
….
The sun was merciless. It made the day look happier than it should have been. McGee shifted uncomfortably inside his suit jacket, but he didn't take it of. In a way, he deserved the uncomfort. It was all his fault. He should have seen it coming, protected his team, his family. But he hadn't, and it had cost higher than the ultimate price. He didn't set up the explosion, but he might as well have, for the outcome would have been the same.
He had hated the condolence card SECNAV had sent to Ziva. It was so impersonal that McGee was pretty sure he had the template on his computer, ready to send out at a moments notice. It didn't even have Ziva or Tony's name, just a photocopied signature at the bottom. It was cold, same words, different names.
The world looked different sitting on the front steps of someone's house. He could hear Ziva crying inside, but didn't want to go comfort her. She always had to look strong, always look to be in control of the situation. His heart shattered into a thousand different pieces. He remembered at their wedding, they had the Jewish tradition of stomping on a glass and the rabbi had said "May your marriage and lives together last as long as it takes to mend that glass." Unknown to anybody, McGee had stolen a tiny piece of the glass and thrown it in the river, so there would be no hope of putting back together. That's what he felt like right now; his heart had been broken and someone had taken away a piece. There was no hope of it mending itself.
Irayna came out of nowhere and sat down beside him. He saw Abby disappear into the house behind him, head bent, shoulders drooping. Irayna leaned against McGee, putting her head on his shoulder and mumbling, "I miss him. I miss him so much."
McGee sighed and tried to hold back the tears. "Me too, Ray. Me too." Ray had been Tony's nickname of Irayna, much to Ziva's annoyance. It had kind of been adopted by the whole team, except Ducky.
"Why did he have to go? Why, Uncle McGee?" The seven year old looked up at him as if he should have the answers, but he didn't.
"The explosion. It happened. Your mom, she um… she tried to save your dad. She ran to him and tried to push him out the way. It worked, she bore the brunt of the explosion but, your dad hit his head when he fell. When you hit your head really hard like that, it makes you go into something called a coma. He died in hospital. Your mom blames herself, thinks if she hadn't of pushed him, he wouldn't have hit his head against the barbecue but it wasn't her. The explosion knocked him off his feet before Ziva could push him hard. If anything, it was my fault."
"It wasn't your fault, if you were nowhere near him," Irayna rolled her eyes. McGee almost smiled at the childish ignorance and naiveté.
"It was, Ray. I knew something was gonna happen and then I realised that there was something hooked up to the gas tanks. I tried to shout to him but it was too loud. I should have tried harder, it should have been me instead of Tony. I had nothing to lose, he had everything." McGee said, at first with vehemence and then with an odd mixture of despair and sadness.
Irayna wrapped her arms around her uncle and whispered, "You had everything to lose too. Us."
McGee hugged her back. "Tony was your dad, I'm not even your real uncle, just a probie." It was said with a sad smile. "I would have missed you an awful lot though."
"I would have missed you too. And I am pretty sure that mommy would still be crying over you if you died. Daddy would have cried too."
You couldn't help but love this sensitive child who was remarkably caring considering who her mother was. Yet she had her hard moments too; like when the snotty nosed kid from kindergarten had stolen her cookies and she had socked him one. Tony and Ziva had been called in for a meeting with the teacher and Ziva had been livid with fury, told her teacher that the kid shouldn't have stolen her cookies in the first place. The teacher had told Ziva that she should keep her martial arts training to a minimum which had Ziva telling her that she would teach her child what she liked and if the teacher had a problem with that she could phone Gibbs and talk to him which the teacher did. Needless to say; Tony and Ziva never got called into the school again.
Irayna started to cry; she missed him so much that it hurt. McGee pulled her closer and let herself cry out. It wasn't fair to any of them but especially this kid. Nobody deserved to lose her father like that, and there was a real chance she could have lost Ziva as well.
"I know kid, I know he would have."
….
The world was moving too fast Ziva decided. It was racing through the days faster than she would have liked. One day Irayna had been a squealing 6 pound baby and now she was a seven year old who could pack a mean punch. Tony always said she would turn out to be a natural ninja, then Ziva had thrown a fork which had stuck out of the wall next to him. Irayna had copied her with her plastic toddler fork, and she had hit Tony right in the stomach. "See!" he had said, "I told you."
She had burns on her forearms and a deep gash on her back. Nothing hurt even though the doctor said that the burns themselves should be stinging like hell. But Ziva David was not a person, she was a robot who was trained to tune out pain as if it were merely an inconvenience. Though, this time it wasn't. This time it hurt and it made her want to cry out, kill something to make it hurt as much as she did. She had already killed the guy that had detonated the bomb. What else?
She had to be strong for Irayna though. There was still a reason to live, still a reason to get up in the morning. She had gone for a run the morning of the funeral. She had felt so good, as if it released some of the emotion that had been building up inside her. She had been five miles into her eight mile route when she realised she didn't deserve to feel good. She had broken down on the sidewalk, right outside a nursing home. One of the nurses had rushed out and had made her come inside for a while. They had called a cab which had taken her home. That act of kindness reminded her that there still was nice people in the world.
She got up slowly from the armchair and went outside onto the front steps. She saw McGee sitting there, twirling a buttercup in his hand. Ziva could tell he had been crying, the puffiness of his eyes giving him away.
"Hi," she said softly, sitting down beside him. He jumped a little but softened when he saw it was Ziva.
"Hi," he said, looking at her with open sympathy, "Where's Abby?"
Ziva sighed again and McGee sadly smiled. What she had sounded like before all this, when she got annoyed. "Watching me like a bat. It was starting to get oppressive."
McGee smiled a little wider at her small mistake. "It's hawk Ziva. Watching you like a hawk, not a bat." He was going to go into the whole 'blind-as-a-bat' thing but decided not to, it would just confuse her more.
"Oh, right." Ziva gave an embarrassed smile, "Where is Irayna?"
"She just went over to see Gibbs." McGee pointed to where the duo where, hard to see among all the black mourners on their way home from the cemetery. It was just across the road.
McGee looked at Ziva, really looked at her. Was it possible to age a hundred years in a number of days? She was still beautiful, but more like a tragic princess. Her clothes seemed to loose on her and her mouth looked as though it had forgotten how to smile. It was her eyes though, that McGee found most haunting. They were hollow and looked so sad. He recognised that look, he had seen in once before in a place whose name was forbidden to come across their lips. Somalia.
"How're you doing Ziva, really?" McGee asked tenderly.
Ziva looked at him and saw in his eyes that this wasn't easy for him either. Tony had been like a brother to him, a best-friend. It was selfish for her to feel like this, she was not the only one.
"It does not matter. How are you McGee?"
He suddenly felt quite angry at her. Could she not just let her guard down for one minute? "It doesn't matter about me, Ziva, not you. It does matter about you, because you were his wife, the mother of his child!"
As expected. Ziva got angry as well. Except that she didn't just get angry, she got furious. "I am being selfish, wallowing in my own feelings. You feel the same way as I, you feel horrible as well. I am being selfish thinking it is about me, feeling this way. You feel this way too, yes? Do not lie to me!"
"Yes, I do feel horrible but you can too. It's not selfish to feel like that, it's not selfish to wallow in your own feeling for a while. Because even the toughest of us break down at some point, we can't all go on forever. I know you'd like to believe it Ziva but you can't. You can't go on forever."
Something broke inside Ziva David then. Something fragile and delicate. Something that had been trodden on too many times.
"I tried, I tried so hard." She whispered. "I tried to wake him up after the explosion. He would not wake up. All of my shouts and cries and slaps went unanswered."
Tears threatened to spill over her eyes as she looked around at the abnormally bright day. It hurt so much. She was used to the sun when she was hurting but right now all she wanted was rain.
"It was a harsh reality to face. I had woken up and the doctor came in. She told me the news I did not want to hear. It was the last thing I wanted to hear."
McGee nodded at her words. Doctors had to sedate Ziva to treat her wounds. She had been hysterical about Tony and wouldn't let them treat her until she saw him. Obviously, the doctor refused. She got even more hysterical at that, she threatened to stab the doctor with his own syringe. She might have if she hadn't been sedated before.
"It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Telling a little girl that her father is dead. It made it even worse that it was my fault."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was." Ziva started to sob, so hard and so bitterly. McGee opened his arms and she fell into him, crying on his shoulder.
"It was my fault, I killed him." She sobbed. McGee rubbed nonsensical patterns on her back, trying to offer comfort when so little could be found.
"I miss him… so… so much. It hurts so much. I really miss him, I really… really do." She sobbed into his shoulder. McGee kept rubbing her back, not letting it slip how much it hurt to see the tough, independent woman finally crack.
….
Irayna loved Grandpa Gibbs' basement. It had a very unique smell which her dad had called 'sawdust and bourbon'. She knew what sawdust was obviously, but not the latter and when she'd asked her dad, he's just said that she really shouldn't ever need to know.
There was the skeletal frame of a boat right in the centre. It was brand-new, Gibbs only having started the project a month ago. Irayna was proud because she'd helped with the sanding and had even used the hammer one time (not that her mom ever needed to find out about that. Irayna preferred a breathing Gibbs). The sawdust would cling to her clothes for days and her mother would sigh because it was a nightmare to get rid of and she hated chores already. One time she had even broke the washing machine because all the sawdust had clogged up the drain. Her mama had not been happy about that at all.
Irayna saw Gibbs, sanding the wood smooth. As sneaky as her mother, Gibbs didn't notice her until she tapped him on the back. Sighing, he put down his sandpaper and picked up the little girl, swirling her around until she giggled a little. He smiled a little too.
"So, what's up?" he asked.
Suddenly Irayna's smile disappeared, replaced by a haunting look. She started scuffing the floor with the toe of her shoe, getting sawdust all over the patent black leather. "I dunno, not too good I guess."
Gibbs knelt beside her, amazed at how small she still was. "Yeah? Well, what we gonna do about that?"
She looked at him for a second, clearly surprised at his answer. Normally Gibbs would have told her to soldier on. But this was different, she didn't have to soldier on, she didn't have to put on a brave face. She could cry if she wanted to.
"I dunno. I just really ant everyone to be happy again. Especially Ima." She sighed and looked down at the floor. Gibbs smiled. Whenever she was sad or angry, Irayna would use some of the Hebrew phrases that Zia had taught her, and a hint of Ziva's accent would come out as well. She was obviously her father's daughter but Ziva was there in the less obvious ways; Irayna's smile, her laughter, the ways her eyes looked whenever she was sad or embarrassed and most of all, Ziva's temper.
"Oh Irayna, I wish I could make it better for you, but I can't. I really can't."
"Yes you can. You can do anything. Mama and Daddy said that you are amazing and that you can do anything." Irayna said accusingly. Gibbs wanted to believe her so desperately, he wanted to make it better for her.
"I can't. I am so sorry Irayna but I can't. I'm just a man." Gibbs said, looking at her with his 'serious face' as she called it. It reminded her of her mama's stare when she was angry at her. Except her mama was way scarier.
"Okay." All way quiet for a few seconds then Irayna said, "You know mama cries. Don't you?"
"Yeah, I do." Gibbs remembered the first night after Tony had died. Ziva had broken down in his arms, very similar to the way she had broken down when he had been in hospital after the explosion. But after Tony died was worse. She had cried so much, all the while muttering "It is all my fault".
"I don't like it when she cries. I mean she's teared up before, like when I started school and stuff, but never fully, properly cried. I just want to make it stop. Aunt Abby suggested that I go stay with her for a few days, you know so mama can sort herself out. I don't think she'll let me go though."
"No, I don't think she will either." Gibbs said. Ziva was so protective it was scary. It might seem on the surface that she was the laid-back parent but she was secretly watching with the trained eyes of a spy/mother. When Gibbs thought about it, there actually wasn't that much difference between the two.
"Oh Gibbs," Irayna flung herself into his shoulder, "I miss him so much. I want daddy back." She sobbed. It was a heart breaking sound that he had never gotten used to. Even Kelly had never cried as gut wrenchingly as Irayna did. But they were two very different girls born a generation apart and had both suffered different fates.
"I mss him too Ray, I miss him too." Gibbs whispered softly. Tony and him had been partners for so long. Tony had practically been his son. Gibbs had made a silent promise to him as he had carried the coffin; I promise to take care of your girls Anthony. I'll protect them with everything I've got.
A little while passed with them just on the floor like that. It would have made a beautiful painting, one of those tragic ones that are star attractions in museums. Finally, Gibbs stood up, his bones creaking in the most awful way, Irayna giggled a little at the sound.
Gibbs smiled as well, before becoming serious again. "Ray, I think you need to go see your mom."
The smile fell off her face immediately. "No, I can't. I can't go see Ima." She shook her head venomously.
Gibbs smiled at all the different names she called Ziva. It was as if she couldn't decide which one she liked better, what one was special enough. "Why don't you wanna see her?"
Irayna scuffed the floor with her shoe again, looking ashamed. After a few moments of Gibbs' stare, she cracked. "I can't deal with her crying, it's not my Ima who cries." she mumbled.
"Irayna, you remember how you cried on my shoulder just now? Well that's how your mommy feels. She feels like it was her fault and that she has made you unhappy. Do you understand?"
"A little."
"Look, your mom doesn't cry often. I know this to be true because I have worked with her for over ten years. She loved your daddy so much and she misses him too, the same as you and me. Do you get it now?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
Gibbs' heart broke when he looked at the child, who was still so very small for her age. Her pigtails had been pulled out and her hair was back to unruly curls around her face. She had a big heart that would challenge Abby and brains that would challenge McGee. Family shouldn't be refined to whose blood runs in your veins or who's DNA you match. Not one of the NCIS family shared any of the genetics yet they were closer than any other family. Pain drove them together rather than pushed them apart and their each individual talents and personalities made them different but made them part of a whole. It was how they survived.
"Come on," Gibbs offered his hand, "I'll walk you to the front door, but that's it."
Irayna shuffled forward and put her hand in his. Together they walked, sharing memories of someone who they had both loved.
….
McGee had gone to comfort Abby soon after Ziva's breakdown. He saw her in the park across from Ton and Ziva's house, swinging aimlessly back and forth. A soothing, constant rhythm which you did not have to concentrate on but could instead, immerse yourself in thoughts.
"Hi Abs," McGee said softly, tapping Abby out of her reverie.
She looked up at him, tears glistening in her green eyes. Black tendrils had started to escape her pigtails and her black make-up was smudged, even waterproof make-up can't stay put when faced with the tears of a hurting person. Looking up at McGee made Abby cry again, he looked so hurt and so scared. She whimpered softly.
"Oh Abby," McGee said and at that Abby broke. When he opened his arms, she got up off the swing and fell into them, holding McGee as if he might disappear.
"I miss him so much McGee. He was like a brother to me, we were the original team, him and I. When you weren't there, when Kate died, when Gibbs quit, when Ziva was in Somalia. I was the one he came to when he said he wanted to ask out Ziva. And now he's gone, McGee, he's gone." Abby sobbed into his shirt, neither of them really caring if she got make-up all over it.
"Me too Abs." It was true, McGee missed his partner so much. He had never worked in the team without Tony, never. Tony had been the one constant apart from Gibbs. He was a brother to him. McGee was the one Tony had come to about going to Somalia with him, he had comforted him when McGee thought he had shot that cop. Tony was family. They all were.
Of course it was inevitable. All families experience tragic losses, terrible accidents that happen when you least expect them. But this family had lost so much already, they had faced many trials together. Although some of them had families of their own, it hadn't changed anything except make them closer. It was unfair, these people should be able to live until they were old and gray, until they were content enough with their life, until they were satisfied they had done what they could. Obviously the universe had different plans. It was a risk they took when they signed up for the job. It was why they already had funeral cover and life insurance. But for people like Ziva who hadn't expected to live past thirty, relaxed, they felt safer when they job didn't have a life expectancy. Not to say they were careless, they just took great comfort in thinking they would wake up on the same side of the bed.
It was a question that nobody asked or even answered: would the family finally be give something, instead of always having something taken?
….
Irayna quietly tip-toed into her house. The place was like a tomb; all cold and silent with no sign of life. A person who didn't know Ziva would have looked in the obvious places and would have given up when they had not found her there. Irayna knew her mother and made her way straight to the small box room that currently had no name. It was the door next to the study, a door that people often missed or assumed it was the hot water tank.
Irayna was right. She opened the door and there was her mother, sitting at the piano. She had obviously been playing but had given up halfway through for the sheet music was half turned over. It seemed that Ziva was muttering to herself, but as Irayna inched closer she could tell that her mother was actually praying. She stayed quiet, knowing Ziva needed this.
"Why should I believe in you? Why should I not be angry, with all that has been taken from me? Will it stop, or will I have to live this way forever, always wondering what I shall lose next? Show me a sign, tell me that I should not lose hope. Please?"
Her voice was pleading towards the end, almost begging for a reprieve from the pain of everything. But then Ziva's 'spidey senses' alerted her to the fact that someone was there so she lowered her hands from their prayer position and opened her eyes. She looked at her daughter, not attempting to explain what she was doing. Instead, she opened her arms.
"Ima!" Irayna cried and ran into them. All the emotion of the past few days had masked how much she needed her Ima, how much she needed to be told that there was still somebody.
Irayna clutched at Ziva's dress, determined to hold onto her and never let her go. She started to cry, which turned into sobbing. Ziva's eyes filled up with tears but she did not sob, she knew how much it broke her daughter's heart to hear it. Ziva had never pretended to hold much faith in her religion, it had let he down too many times for her to be a true believer. Now she prayed to her God, silently asking him to not hurt her child anymore, to direct any of his intended pain her way. She prayed for a reprieve of pain, but most of all, she prayed for forgiveness.
Irayna was still sobbing. "Don't ever leave me Ima, promise me you will never leave me!" It broke Ziva's heart to hear her baby sound the way she did. It reminded her of a young her, when she would beg her father not to leave so soon, back when she idolised him. Ziva's chin started to wobble as she bent down and kissed her daughter's hair.
"I promise I will never leave you tataleh. Not while there is a breath in my body."
It was a while before Irayna raised her head. She stretched and whispered something into her mother's ear. It brought out a sad smile. "Yes, go and get it then."
Irayna went over to the other side of the room where her violin stood. She brought it over with the sheet music from the shelf. Ziva got herself comfortable at the piano, doing a few scales to warm her hands up. Her gaze flitted to the wedding photograph which sat on top of the piano. They looked so young and so happy. It would have been ten years next week.
Ziva brought out her copy of the sheet music and placed it in front of her. Looking over at her daughter to say she was ready, who in turn gave her a thumbs up and got in position. Together they began to play The Roses from The little prince. It was going to be a present for Tony, a project they had been slaving over for weeks. They originally didn't know if it could be played on violin but Ziva had studied the music carefully and adapted it into violin form. Irayna even had a solo part. It was beautiful.
When they had finished, tears were coursing down Ziva's cheeks but she didn't notice. She was too busy looking at her daughter who was staring back with wide eyes. Irayna had managed to get through the difficult piece without a single mistake. Ziva opened her arms once more and Irayna ran into them.
"I am so proud of you tataleh, so very proud. Ani Ohevet Otcha."
Irayna smiled into her mother's chest, breathing in the soft scent that was her mother's perfume, worn everyday for as long as she could remember.
"I love you too."
…..
Anthony senior heard this exchange from the front hallway. He had been there for a while but had done nothing to make his presence announced. The music was beautiful and he had known precisely why it had been played, Irayna was a beautiful musician, just like her mother.
Ziva stepped out into the hallway with Irayna by her side. It was then she noticed Tony's father, standing forlornly in the hallway. She stopped dead in her tracks. Irayna ran up to him and shouted, "Grandpa, Grandpa, did you hear me playing?"
Anthony senior bend down and hugged his granddaughter. "Yes I did, you were excellent." Irayna got very excited by his praise and only calmed down with her mother's harsh words.
"Irayna, go and change out of your clothes. You may then watch television for half an hour." Irayna slunk away, embarrassed to be scolded like that in front of her grandfather.
Ziva eyed Anthony DiNozzo senior warily. He was unkempt and had obviously not slept in a while. His skin looked gray and his voice cracked when he said, "I'm sorry for your loss."
"It's yours too." Ziva replied, straightforward. She was determined not to cry again, especially not in front of this man. His son might have just died, but he had lost Tony way before that and they both knew it.
"It hurt you more though Ziva. Anthony loved ya', he really did. You and Irayna were the only things he talked about when he called." A sad chuckle came out and suddenly Ziva felt incredibly sorry for the man. He was Tony's father after all, maybe it was time to forgive old sins and rekindle what fragile relationship the two people had. When they had first married, Ziva had refused point-blank to talk to senior for abandoning his son in the past. It had taken about a year but eventually they had been able to have a family dinner without anyone killing each other. In the literal and metaphorical sense.
"Where are you staying?" Ziva asked, not seeing any indication of a suitcase or luggage.
"Just at some hotel. I was only dropping in to see how you were getting on. I'm back to New York tomorrow."
"No you are not." Ziva said firmly, causing the older man to stare at her with a degree of confusion. "You are staying with us. For as long as you need."
Anthony senior smiled sadly. He was proud of junior, he had managed to accomplish things that senior could only dream of. "Well," he sighed, "I suppose I better go find that gorgeous granddaughter of mine. With that, he took the unfamiliar path he had seen Irayna take only a few minutes ago.
To Ziva's surprise, her father had called. To her great relief, it had not been a lecture on how having feelings can destroy you, or how it would be best if Irayna and her went to live in Israel. The phone call had been one of condolence and sorrow. He said he would even come to America if it would be easier, she just had to say the word.
To her own surprise, she had said yes. She honestly didn't know why. Maybe it was because she needed something of her past, something that would remind her of who she was and who she had become. Maybe it was because he was being caring for once and who was she to pass down that opportunity? But what she really thought was that she needed her father, she needed to be the little girl and for him to be brave and strong for her. She needed happy memories of her childhood. She needed to know that he loved her.
She sighed and looked up and the sky. Ziva wasn't sure if she believed in Heaven, but it sounded nice. She wanted Tony to be here so much, she wanted to feel his arms around her again. It had only been a few days but it might as well have been a lifetime. She couldn't find the words to say exactly what she felt so she uttered a quote, one that she had read somewhere and had fallen asleep thinking how sad it was.
"Our story has three parts, a beginning a middle and an end. And although this is the way all stories unfold, I still can't believe that ours didn't go on forever."
…..
Summer had brought warmer days. The clouds gathered on the horizon, a sure indication that rain could fall at any time. The man standing in the cemetery either did not notice or did not care for he made no sign of moving any time soon.
It hadn't been that long, four weeks at most. In all truth he hadn't been counting, it was too painful to measure the time someone had been gone. Work was pointless, too quiet. Gibbs didn't like quiet. It gave the demons in his head free reign, it gave him time to mull over things that he should have forgotten long ago. He had considered retiring, but where would he go? He would just go and visit his team at work, there was no point in trying to leave NCIS, it was part of who he was.
It had been entertaining to watch, his two agents dance around each other for all those years, their love behind the words they could never find. But now he wished he'd told them what they felt for the other, instead of wasting all that time. It was words that would be carved onto his gravestone; What if.
There was a smell of bourbon and sawdust, these days in large quantities. He laid his hand on the cold marble, shivering unnoticeably as his skin made contact. It was not Tony. Marble is cold, hard, impenetrable, the exact opposite. It was everything he wasn't.
It was getting too hard, watching his team battered and bruised yet again. Why couldn't they catch a break, why, when they got too close to someone, did they have to lose them? It wasn't fair. It had reaffirmed Ziva's words to Ducky, "The one's who get too close, always end up dead." It was sadly true, it shouldn't be. You shouldn't have to be afraid of loving someone, you shouldn't have o look over your shoulder every minute of every day.
There were so many things Gibbs wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him that Eli David had made an appearance and was working things out with Ziva. He wanted to tell him that Irayna got accepted to do a musical solo for a violin competition. He wanted to tell him so much but there were no words to say. There was only regret.
He should've tried harder, people should have been trying to live without him instead of Tony. It was more than the feeling of a co-worker, it ran deeper than that. It was the trust of a fellow comrade, the anger of a friend. The pride of a father. Tony had helped so many, changed many lived, changed the world. There was nothing he could say to make it better, nothing he could do. Instead he removed his hand from the marble and though of Ziva and Irayna. He though of the great job Tony had done with his family. The great responsibility he had manned up to. Gibbs sighed wearily and offered a praise he knew would never be good enough, a praise said with finality.
"Good job DiNozzo."
This little idea popped into my head while I was writing chapter nine of Broken. It's sorta based on the video of the same name by TonyandZivaUK on you tube. It's also the longest chapter/one-shot that I have ever written so I'm quite proud of that. It was 10 pages on my computer! Please review and tell me if it's good or is it just ramblings. ( More than 6,000 words!)Thanks ~ Rebecca x
P.S. I borrowed a few of the phrases from "goodbye31bluesky's" story "Collapse" . It's only a few in the last section. You should really check out the story.