Hey. So this is the update. I really hope you like it and please, pretty please, review! If you are reading this and if you like it, well could you leave a little line or two telling me that you did. If you don't, then you don't. I'm not going to beg and I don't hold stories hostage for reviews.
(Yes, Amy, I know you've reviewed and I appreciate that so much!)
Disclaimer: I'm not even technically old enough to have a job, please explain to me how I could own NCIS?
I knew a girl, she told me
'you don't want to know what they've done to me'.
When she was done crying she just cracked a joke,
and she has a smile for every thunderstorm.
-Chris Pureka, "Unwelcome."
"Welcome to Charing Cross Station," an automated female voice welcomes. Ziva awakes with a jolt and starts to panic. White walls and white floors are all she can see and it makes her think she's back at the camp. It's not until a voice whispers soothing words in her ear that she can see she's in a car and the white walls are actually a tunnel, to which they've just come to the end.
When they car door opens, Ziva can see they are in a tall room, with catwalks all the way up. People all around stare at her as Fearne leads her out the car and it makes her slightly uncomfortable. Part of her training has been to remain invisible. If she can't be invisible, if she can't fight, then Ziva has nothing left. And it's not nearly as depressing as it should be.
A man in a black suit with an earpiece whispers, "Copy that," and then steps forward and introduces himself to Ziva.
"My name is Agent Sayers. If you would like to follow me, I'll take you to the infirmary and we can discuss our options from there."
There's something about this man which suggests to Ziva that he isn't all that he appears. He reminds her a little too much of her father for her to feel completely at ease with him. Agent Sayers starts to walk off and Ziva almost wants to stay still, because who knows what will happen next.
Fearne pushes her forward and Ziva looks to her for reassurance because she can trust Fearne. An almost imperceptible nod is all it takes for the normally strong and sure Mossad Officer to shuffle forward awkwardly, keeping her head down so she can't see everybody staring.
She wonders how she got to this point.
There's too many doctors and nurses around her and soon they all blur into one. A small prick in her arm lets her fade into darkness. The nurses and doctors think it will be good for her, to rest, to sleep. Oh how wrong they are.
The drug causes sedation, not sleep. Ziva's brain is still wide awake and she is trapped into her world of nightmares, the drug too strong to escape the clutches of. There's Saleem and his henchmen for lack of a better word and there's all the people she has hurt. And Tony is there and all she can see is his face beneath hers, full of pain and full of hope that she might come to her senses. She didn't and it makes her finally escape sedation with a loud cry.
It must be at least two in the morning and she is alone in the infirmary. The moonlight filters in through the blinds and there is a comforting hum of traffic in the background. Ziva doesn't want anyone to come in and see her like this so she turns over on her side and tries to calm her heart rate. Somebody must have heard her because the door opens and closes softly and Fearne appears from the gloom.
And damn, Ziva's glad it's her.
"Hey, I heard your cry. Are you okay?" She asks, more out of politeness because they both know she's not.
There is a choked whimper and a nod of a head. Fearne sighs softly and sits down at the end of the bed, a sure indicator that she's not going anywhere until Ziva tells her what's wrong. Ziva doesn't because if she does, their relationship will be lost forever and she's lost enough already.
"I am… fine, Fearne," she manages to get out.
Fearne sighs again. "Ziva, what do you want? What do you want right now, right here, huh?"
Ziva ponders for a moment and when English fails her, she whispers in her native tongue, "Ani Mekava le'atid tov yoter."
Fearne clucks her tongue. "English, honey, or a language I can understand. You know I can't speak Hebrew. Don't shut me out."
English comes back to her and Ziva utters with a broken, child-like voice, "I hope for a better future."
The hours pass by in a blur of doctors, nurses and Agent Sayers makes a few appearances. Ziva wants to tell him to get lost but English words are heavy and unfamiliar on her tongue. To be fair, the man's not done anything wrong but he makes Ziva uncomfortable and she hates feeling uncomfortable so therefore she hates him.
MI6 wants her to give a formal report for their records; after all, rescuing a foreign agent from a terrorist camp not even in their jurisdiction is a big deal. Fearne tells the director's admin to stick it when he comes in for the third time, threatening him with dismemberment if he comes in here again today.
Fearne is just about to leave when Ziva's tongue dislodges itself and she blurts out, "Does Mossad know?"
Fearne turns back to Ziva and hears her unspoken question: Does my father know I'm alive? She nods once. "Yes, he does."
"Okay," comes the small reply and it almost seems as if Ziva shrinks into the bedcovers, her pale face merging with the slightly paler sheets. The mention of her father has the capacity to scare her in a way nothing else has been able to for a very long time.
Fearne can't leave her after that, not that she particularly wanted to anyway. Not when she looks so small and scared against the sheets. It's been a long time since Fearne has seen her like that, almost seven years.
Constant channel jumping interrupts the flow of Polish on screen. Fearne wishes to see at least some English on the screen. She can't even figure out how to put on the freaking English subtitles. The MI6 recruitment agent had told her that her language skills would come in useful in all aspects of her career. Well they didn't freaking well tell her that she was going to be sent to freaking Poland when she couldn't speak Polish. At least they've been kind enough to throw in a young Mossad Officer who is half fluent in Polish. Too bad Ziva is asleep.
Fearne doesn't quite know what to think of Ziva yet. On one hand, she seems surly, older and arrogant. But on the other she seems young, afraid and sad. It's the last three that confuses her; Ziva is such a contradiction with even the little Fearne knows of her. All she knows if from the tiny, page-thick file that Mossad had sent MI6. Apparently Ziva David is a twenty year old, Jewish, Israeli with training in almost every martial art, knife and firearm. Oh, and she's also the daughter of the Mossad Deputy Director. Damn. Fearne knows that if she makes one wrong move with the Mossad Officer, It could quite potentially end her career. Not a comforting thought.
Deciding to leave the TV on some random Polish news channel, Fearne sighs and switches off her bedside lamp, already under the covers. It's a scratchy mattress but there are much worse places out there to sleep. It's only been about three minutes before there's soft whimpering, almost undetectable. Fearne quietly throws back the covers and gets out of bed, pausing only to turn on the bedside lamp. There, in the soft glow of the bulb, she can see her Mossad partner twisting and turning on the bed, looking as if she is in the realms of a nightmare.
All of a sudden, everything Fearne thought about the girl has vanished. She's now seeing Ziva David in an entirely different light than she can before. Then she snaps back into focus, Fearne gently sits down on the edge of the bed and starts to shake Ziva. Almost immediately, Ziva's awake and pointing a gun in her face. Two seconds later, she realizes who it is and lowers it, though not putting it away entirely.
"Yes?" Ziva asks.
"I was just wondering if you were okay, you seemed to be having a nightmare," Fearne says, painfully aware about her accent is making her sound like a boarding school snob.
Ziva doesn't seem to notice though, rather the fight seems to go out of her and she deflates before Fearne's very eyes. Fearne can't help but pity the younger girl, who, at this moment in time, looks more like a fifteen year old than a twenty year old.
"I am… fine, Agent Granger," Ziva says and goes to turn away from Fearne, who, against her better judgement, grabs her arm to stop her. Neither part move and Fearne waits for the blow that is sure to come. Nothing happens. Ziva stares wide-eyed at her.
"You're not fine, Officer David. Let me help you. What was in your dream?" Fearne says softly, letting go of Ziva's arm.
Ziva looks at war with herself, as if she can't decide whether to trust Fearne or not. Eventually she does. "My little sister."
At first, Fearne can't see why dreaming about one's little sister could be so terrifying, and then she thinks to herself that something must have happened to Ziva's little sister. "What about your little sister?"
"She was… killed in a… a Hamas suicide bombing last month," Ziva whispers out and to her horror, tears start to make their slow descent down her face. Swiping them away quickly with her hand, Ziva looks at Fearne through watery eyes, almost begging her to say something, anything.
"Oh, I am so sorry," Fearne says and she means it too. If Ziva's twenty and her sister is younger… that almost doesn't bear thinking about. "How old was she?"
Fearne doesn't think Ziva's going to answer, but she does. "Sixteen." The words are choked, as if somebody has strangled them and twisted them beyond recognition.
And Fearne needs to do something, anything because otherwise she might start crying herself and that would make Ziva feel worse. She envelopes Ziva in an awkward hug and it's not too long before she feels a slight wet patch on her pyjama top. Fearne strokes Ziva's hair for a moment or two before letting go and making to return to her own bed. Before she can, however, she needs to ask one question because no longer can she see this little sister without a face. "What was her name?"
"Tali. Her name was Tali."
"Ziva, I…"
"No," Ziva says, pushing herself up. "No, do not… do not go there. It was a long time ago," she says because she can't allow Fearne to go back to that time when her emotions weren't in check. She can't allow Fearne to go to the forbidden place in her heart. She won't. Because look where emotions got her.
"Just because it was a long time ago doesn't mean it's easier, Ziva. You know as well as I do that the 'time heals all wounds' saying that everybody spouts is crap. You know better than anyone that time doesn't make you forget a face or forget a life or forget a smile. I didn't know Tali but I sure as hell know what her death did to you. I won't let you go through that again! It hurt me to watch you go through that!" Fearne stars. At first it's a piece of advice but at the end it sounds like an argument. Then she takes one look at Ziva's face and instantly regrets shouting. Ziva's trembling so hard that it looks like she might shatter into thousands of irreplaceable pieces.
"I'm sorry."
Ziva shakes her head, the trembling calming now. "Do not apologise. It is a sign of weakness."
Fearne shakes her head in disbelief. "You don't work for him anymore and yet you still abide by his rules. Geez, I've got to learn how he does that. Man, I could use that for my 'probies'. I'd give anything for them to be that obedient," she says.
And for the first time in over four months, Ziva David laughs.
