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Tony remained stalk still, unable to focus. Man, he could use a shot—no, a gallon—of something to take the edge off. The Ari connection alone was enough to drive him head first into a deep abyss of booze, but those damn eyes… Those damn eyes in that bastard's face.
Yup, an ocean worth of booze was definitely in order. Bourbon. No scotch. Lots of scotch. Tragically, as much as his sanity was hankering for a tidy little fortress built of Bowmore and spicy Montecristos, he reckoned the stench of booze and cigars oozing from his pores would earn him more than a head slap from Gibbs.
Sighing, Tony rummaged through his stash of courage and began an attempt to coax Kate's—alleged, very alleged—son out of the closet. As he stooped down on one knee, he snuck in a quick prayer to Saint Jude—the Patron Saint of Desperate Causes and NCIS agents who were in over their heads.
"Asa?" he tried again.
The child continued rocking, lips moving like scissors, the shards of his frantic whispers gliding through the air. Tony pushed a benign hand forward, hoping to coax the child out, but the boy recoiled further into the darkness. His tiny hand jutted up to shield his tear stained face, but just as quickly as it sprung out, he resignedly clasped it around his knees and shut his eyes.
Ziva gasped. Tony hadn't even realized she'd come up behind him. He reached up and squeezed her hand, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
But really, what does one say to ones partner when she encounters the ostensible son of her very, very dead brother and the woman he murdered? Congratulations? Shaking his head, he made a note to consult the scripts of several Lifetime movies of the week for advice.
Ziva David, trained to anticipate and neutralize an assortment of surprises in the field, fell gracelessly into the bookshelf behind her. Pulling herself upward, she barely registered Tony's hand slide into hers as she moved closer to the closet.
She realized there was no amount of conditioning that could've prepared her for…that.
The boy, with his split lip and swollen nose, was Ari in miniature. Save for his eyes—Agent Todd's eyes. What the hell had her brother done?
Ziva groaned. Apparently Ari's innate capacity for sickening behavior had endured well beyond his passing. Great.
"You don't have to protect yourself from me," Tony cajoled. "You're safe. Take my hand and I'll pull you out…"
Ziva watched as Tony reached for him again, careful to move slowly. Asa recoiled and kept his eyes closed, preparing himself for whatever form of cruelty he was certain Tony had in store.
"You're okay," Tony repeated. "Nobody's gonna hurt you."
Ziva's eyes trailed to the necklace coiled around the boy's left hand. Her breath caught as realization struck, cold and violent. She knew that necklace.
She was wearing it around her neck.
"I'm Tony, she's Ziva. We're here to help," Tony said gently. "Everything's okay."
Slowly, Asa forced his eyes open and although they had cleared, the boy still regarding him with raw suspicion. He glanced at Tony's other hand, checking for signs of a trick. Ever observant, the agent tucked it behind his back.
"Aheda men fedlek," Ziva chimed in. "You will be okay."
The boy's eyes—Kate's eyes, dammit—widened at Ziva's use of Arabic. Tony observed with baited breath as Asa snuck an appraising glance at Ziva. Finally, he gingerly took Tony's hand and allowed himself to be pulled into the light.
"There ya go," Tony guided him over to the bed. "Let's get you—hey! We've got a runner!"
Thankfully Ziva's ninja reflexes managed to kick in before the boy could dart out of the open bedroom door. She quickly lurched forward, catching a fistful of his t-shirt in one hand and his wrist with the other.
Ziva lifted him up, trying to hold him still as he thrashed and kicked his feet. She pressed him onto the bed and held him down with both hands, her voice tender and reassuring. The boy had stopped struggling slightly, his energy draining, perhaps realizing he was no match against an adult, but it was abundantly clear that he would make a break for the door if Ziva loosened her grip.
"Uh…yeah…so, I'm gonna go update the boss," Tony moved for the door, but turned around before leaving. "You sure you're okay here?"
She nodded, still gripping the boy's shoulders.
Gibbs was standing at attention at the bottom of the stairs, his steel blue eyes fixed firmly on Tony as the senior field agent scurried down the steps.
"Find anything upstairs?"
Tony pulled off his NCIS cap and scratched his head. "Uh…you could say that."
Gibbs remained silent, his blue stare jagged as a steak knife. "Care to elaborate, DiNozzo?"
"Ya know, this is one of those awkward moments when you realize you have absolutely no words to explain a situation..."
Gibbs resisted the urge to shake the man like a broken vending machine, as if doing so would dislodge the information wedged in Tony's dry throat. "DiNozzo…"
His words tumbled out in a rush: "ThelittleboyupstairshasKate'seyes."
Gibbs furrowed his naturally arched brows. "Wanna try that again?"
Tony shifted his weight back onto the heels of his Gucci shoes and balanced there, his features solidifying into seriousness. "I think you oughta see for yourself, Boss."
Gibbs eyed him quizzically and took a sip of his ever-present coffee before following him upstairs.
Tony pushed open the cracked door to "Asa's Room" to reveal Ziva sitting on a twin bed, flipping through a tattered comic while a dark haired child stared stonily through the pages as if they were transparent. Ziva looked toward the door and nodded at the men before leaning over and whispering to the boy.
The boy turned at stared at Gibbs, barely blinking.
So that's what Tony had meant.
Kate's eyes nestled repugnantly in Ari's face.
The memories suddenly clawed at his mind, tearing open old wounds. Images of Kate laughing, bantering with DiNozzo, her stealthy leap in front of the bullet meant for him, her lifeless eyes and black hair spread across the asphalt like spilt tar, the neat little dot in the middle of her forehead and the bloody cape trailing behind her head—all oozed together into a gory mosaic. He pawed at his eyes and blinked as fast as he could, trying to scourge away her face.
When his vision unclouded, he realized he was standing in front of the boy. The child was staring woodenly at the comic in Ziva's lap. His mouth—Ari's mouth—was swollen, a patch of dried blood staining the left corner.
"Hi Asa," he kneeled in front of the boy. "I'm Gibbs."
Slowly, he inched forward only to have Asa flinch and slam his eyes shut, indubitably bracing for a fist. Gibbs inched his hand back and placed it in his pocket. "Sorry about that. I should've asked before I got too close."
Asa's posture stiffened as he peered at the man through his fingers. Gibbs remained stark still, watching him benignly. Slowly, the boy lowered his hands and Gibbs was relieved to see his eyes had defrosted a bit.
"That's some split lip you've got there. Mind if I take a—"
The boy turned his face away, squeezing his eyes closed even tighter. "No! Go away!"
"It's all right," Gibbs watched as Ziva laid a hand on Asa's shoulder. "This is Special Agent Gibbs, my boss…"
"Make him go! Make him go!" His voice was fraught as he clasped his hands over his face. He stared at the wall as he screamed, his eyes lost and unreachable.
"Asa!" Ziva reached for him again, but he slipped away and bolted for the door.
Thankfully Tony managed to catch the boy by the arm and spin him into a hold, though his grip ended when Asa stuck his teeth into Tony's outstretched wrist. The boy slid down to the floor and pushed himself against the wall. Pulling his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs, he rocked himself like a ship on turbulent waters.
"Boss, maybe we should go…"
Gibbs' eyes hovered over the boy. The hard edges of his face softened, his words lost in the fullness of his throat. He straightened and shook his head sadly before finally following Tony out.
Ziva narrowed her eyes at the door before kneeling down, eying the child who was still rocking himself and whispering into his knees.
"Listen to me," she said, careful not to touch him. "You are safe. Nobody is going to hurt you."
Slowly, he released his vise grip on his eyes, wincing from the pain his nails had left. He surveyed the room, seemingly relieved to find himself alone with Ziva. His hands fell limply into his lap and he stared straight ahead, gripping his necklace.
"Asa, please look at me." That got him to raise his eyes, but he focused them on her forehead. It would do. "That is a very beautiful necklace."
Pressing it tightly against his chest, he snarled. "It's mine!"
"I am not going to take it. I have one of my own. See," she lifted the pendent away from her chest so he could see it. "I gave one just like mine to someone very special. Did someone special give you yours?"
He blinked up at her and she saw something approaching recognition on his face. Abruptly, his pudgy fingers found their way to her necklace. He focused on the Star of David, tracing the six points with his tiny pinky.
"Can you tell me who gave it to you?"
He continued to fiddle with the pendant.
"Did your mommy give it to you?"
He shook his head frenetically. "She doesn't know I have it," his southern accent swelled around his words. "Please, please don't tell her! It'll get Aunt Nada in—Oh no! Bassam! If Bassam finds out about all this he'll be really, really mad. He'll take it out on my Aunt Nada!"
"Is Aunt Nada your father's sister?"
"Yes!" The tears streaked uncontrollably down his face as he squeezed the necklace. "Please! You have to make sure Bassam doesn't hurt her! Or worse, if Gibbs…"
"Why are you afraid of Agent Gibbs?"
"He's a very bad man! He…he," his voice caught. "He killed my daddy!"
"Who told you that?" she treaded lightly, careful not to telegraph the simmering emotions pressing at her throat.
"Can't say! I already said too much! It's 'gainst the rules," he mumbled without making eye contact.
"Who made the rules?" Ziva asked gently.
He shrugged and stared at the necklace.
"Did your aunt Nada give that to you?"
He nodded cautiously, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "She said it was for good luck! But now she's with Uncle Bassam and she doesn't have any good luck to protect her. What if she ends up like Samira? What if Gibbs gets her like he got my Daddy Haswari?"
"Gibbs would never, ever hurt an innocent person."
"Even Aunt Nada?"
"Even your aunt Nada."
"Even me?"
"Especially you."
He looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"
" I will not let anything happen to you or your aunt Nada," she answered earnestly.
"Promise?" he whispered back.
"I promise."
"You're name's Ziva, right?" When she nodded, he dropped his eyes down to his knees. "Miss Ziva…that gunshot I heard…did it…did it get...is she dead?"
She squeezed his shoulder. "I am sorry."
"I'm gonna get taken into care, huh?"
"Into care?"
He nodded dolefully. "That's where bad kids go when their parents die or don't want them anymore. That's what Mommy—I mean, Samira said—" he abruptly stopped speaking as though he used up all the words he owned.
Ziva suddenly found it hard to breathe. The small, dark haired child, hunched dejectedly against the wall, had triggered an unexpected surge of memories of a lost, dark haired man. A broken man blinded by hate and abandonment, a man angry because he was unwanted and unloved.
The child looked up at her, imploring Ziva with his big eyes and protruding bottom lip to give him something to hold onto.
"How would you like to see Washington DC?"
"Is that where you're going?"
"Yes."
He allowed her to pull him up off the floor. "Can I leave a note for Aunt Nada, ma'am?"
"Lets worry about that after we get you packed."
He nodded and moved for his dresser. Stopping short of opening a drawer, he turned away from her and bolted into his closet. She could hear him rummaging around and after a few moments, he returned with a sketchpad tucked under his arm.
He bowed his head woefully. "I couldn't leave without it."
She nodded and reached for him, but he instinctively flinched away. She closed her palm and turned back to the dresser. "How about you pick out the things you like."
"Kay. Umm, Miss Ziva?" he mumbled into his chest, unwilling to meet her gaze.
"Yes, Asa?"
"You should 'prolly look by the creek 'cause Aunt Nada told me Uncle Bassam hid his car down there."
After getting Asa settled in the back of the Charger, Ziva wordlessly ambled to the edge of the property's front lawn. She watched as the intense night winds unleashed their fury on the surrounding cluster of trees. The sharp gusts ripped through the branches and absconded with a few of the leaves, releasing their green bodies about the property.
She dug her fingers into her nails, hoping the pain would hinder her ability to remember the sick thud of Ari's body hitting Gibbs' basement floor. She didn't even hear Tony push open the screen door and walk through the grass to join her, barely felt his fingers curl around her shoulder.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw his probing glance dissolve into a condoling stare. "Are you okay?"
"I am fine, Tony," her mouth moved to say more, but only breath came.
"Really?" he asked nonchalantly as he tugged at his tie. "Could've fooled me."
"Would not be the first time."
He jerked to attention and released his tie, his brows knitted together in a frown. He cleared his throat and tilted his head. "And look where that got us."
His tone was light, but there was a vacuum that would definitely suck her in if she didn't watch herself. "I was thinking."
"About?" his voice probed.
Ziva searched for the wrong words, the words that would give him nothing to hold onto. The right words, brimming with a truth she wasn't prepared to spill, swayed in front of her. She blinked them away.
"Ari."
"Somebody's been warping that kids' brain with Ari themed fairytales—and Gibbs is the Big Bad Villain."
"Of all the sadistic things he could've done…"
He sighed and stared straight ahead. "We don't know for sure."
She whirled on him. "He has her eyes, Tony!"
"Like Gibbs told Kate, 'eyes lie' "
"Yes, but DNA tells the truth."
Thankfully McGee picked the perfect time to join them. "Tony, Gibbs wants us to canvas by the creek for tire tracks. He told me the little boy was upstairs the entire time. Poor kid probably heard the whole thing."
"You weren't thinking about Ari, were you?" Tony barreled ahead, refusing to give her a reprieve.
She wanted to scoop his eyes out with her fingers.
McGee's blue eyes bounced between his colleagues before he furrowed his brow and poked out his bottom lip. "So it's true…"
Ziva scratched at the chill rising around her neck. "I was thinking of Tali."
That caught Tony off guard. "You don't think…"
"What else am I supposed to think?" she asked hotly. "The necklace is a carbon copy of the one I gave Tali for her fourteenth birthday, Nada is supposed to be Haswari's sister, her name means dew drops in the morning in Arabic, and Tali means morning dew in Hebrew," she ticked the reasons off on her fingers.
"Coincidence?"
"Rule number 39: there are no coincidences," the words were out as quickly as Ziva had walked away.
McGee's eyes widened as he watched her climb into the back seat of the car. Spinning around, he leveled Tony with a glare. "Nice, DiNozzo."
"That was a race horse conversation, Probie. No McJackasses allowed."
McGee shook his head as he followed Tony in the direction of the creek, grateful he wasn't on Ziva's shit list.
The ride back to DC was surprisingly placid. McGee had alternated between watching Asa through the rearview mirror and updating Gibbs on his findings by the creek. Tony had tried to coax Asa into playing a few levels of Angry Birds, but he just stared ahead.
For the entire journey, the little boy sat slumped against the door, almost as if he planed to yank it open and tumble out. He stared impassively at the back of the Charger's passenger seat. Every once in awhile his little body would quiver and he would survey the car with quick, darting eyes. Ziva assumed his sight was turned inward. Ari used to retreat inside of his mind, riveting himself in his private shelter from reality.
Ziva reached over and took one of his tiny clammy hands. If he was aware of her touch, he gave no sign of it. He just stared expressionlessly ahead, his nose pointed forward like the bow of a naval ship. Gingerly, she released his hand and snaked a tentative arm around his stiff shoulders. He flinched at the gesture, but after a moment, relaxed into her grip.
"You're safe now," she said into his hair.
Kate's sad, lost eyes just stared up at her.
Thanks for reading!
Next: Vance and Ziva disagree. Gibbs turns to an upset Abby and DNA for answers. Ziva confides in Tony.