I do not own NCIS or any part thereof.

FORGIVENESS

-3-

Betty waited but Ziva, what kind of name was that anyway, didn't say anything else. She wouldn't look at her either so Betty reached out and took the poor girl's hand ever so gently because of the bruising and held it.

"Is that man trying to hurt you? We can have cops here inside of ten minutes. My grandson Terry's a Virginia State Trooper and all I gotta do is give him one call."

Before she'd finished Ziva had pulled her hand away and looked up, her uninjured eye wide.

"No. No. He is not trying to hurt me."

Just listening to her voice made Betty want to cry. Her daughter had sounded like that after she'd seen the Beatles live back in the 60s, barely able to talk for two days because she'd screamed herself into laryngitis over four silly mop top boys. Betty knew Ziva hadn't been screaming in adoration of some rock star. Her screaming had been of the serious variety. As her daddy used to say, someone had put a hurting on this girl.

"You sure? Cause he definitely looked mean enough."

She thought a little smile, the tiniest of smiles, might have crossed Ziva's swollen lips.

"No, Gibbs is trying to help me. They are trying to help me."

Betty snorted.

"Well if he's trying to help you why are you hiding?"

She reached out and took the long-fingered, delicate hand again and held it.

"What's wrong, Ziva? Maybe I can help? At least tell me why you're hiding."

Betty slowly pulled Ziva around until she was sitting next to her, both of them with their backs against the wall. She let go of the hand she held and patted Ziva's thigh.

"You can whisper if you want. I won't tell a soul, I swear to God."

She crossed herself to show her earnestness.

Ziva searched her face.

Betty smiled, knowing that Ziva saw an old woman with lots of wrinkles and thick glasses. But she'd always been told she had a kind face.

"I ain't done much in my life except raise kids, grandkids, and now great grandkids, Little Ziva, but it taught a thing or two on how to offer comfort when comfort is needed and it sure as hell looks to me like you are in dire need of comforting."

She sat still, her head turned toward Ziva. Waiting to see what the other woman would do.

Slowly, hesitating between every few words, Ziva began to speak. Betty sat quietly and listened.

"Gibbs wants to help me now. They all want to help me; Ducky, Abby, McGee, Jimmy…"

She paused and Betty thought she saw the glimmer of a tear on the lashes of her right eye, the one not so swollen, but it didn't fall.

"Tony," Ziva said so quietly Betty could hardly hear her.

"Tony? Did you say Tony? Who's Tony? He your fella?"

The tear fell and another took its place. Soon Ziva leaked slow tears from both eyes. She'd stopped talking.

Shaking her head and sighing, Betty put her arm around Ziva and pulled her close in a sideways hug.

"I'm sorry, we won't talk about Tony, whoever the hell he is, okay? Why don't you want these folks to help you? Something wrong with 'em?"

Ziva shook her head no. After another long pause she spoke again.

"Nothing is wrong with them. It is me that is wrong. Everything is wrong with me. I am the one who failed everyone who trusted me. I am the one who is now the burden."

She stopped and then spoke in a stronger voice.

"They should have left me there. It would have been for the best."

Betty was totally confused but she knew with certainly Ziva was in pain and it wasn't from her injuries.

"Who should've left you where? I'm sorry, sweetie, but I just ain't following you here."

Ziva tried to pull away but Betty held on and slowly Ziva relaxed back against her, letting her head rest on Betty's ample bosom. Betty began to rub her back the same way she'd rubbed her babies' backs when they'd been fussy with teething or an earache.

"It's okay. It's okay. You don't gotta talk. You just lay here and let Granny take care of you for a minute. That's what the grands call me, 'Granny.' I wanted something fancier like Nana or Mimi but Granny stuck so Granny it is. I remember my oldest grandson Geoffrey, he couldn't say granny so he called me 'nanny.' Still does to this day. He teaches physics, of all things, at a high school down in Macon, Georgia, now."

She rambled on and on about her children and their offspring all the time rubbing Ziva's back. Eventually she felt the tension in Ziva's body loosen even more. Then Ziva began to talk again.

She talked about her father, apparently some big wig spy in Israel. She talked about Gibbs, her boss, and how he'd left her there, alone, with her father. She talked about some guy named Michael who apparently she'd been dating. She talked NCIS, whatever the hell that was, and how this Tony character was her partner for four years and how he'd stopped trusting her, they'd all stopped trusting her and how Tony had shot and killed Michael. And they'd all had to go back to Israel and she'd come close to shooting Tony but didn't. Then Gibbs and Tony left her there and her father sent her off to some Godforsaken country in Africa to die.

Ziva stopped. Betty kept rubbing and added a soft humming. She knew Ziva could hear the beating of her heart and she hoped it helped just knowing someone was there for her. She didn't know what else to do. Maybe only God could really help Ziva now so she closed her eyes and said a little prayer for the girl she held and then hugged Ziva even closer.