Hetwaszoietsals, thank you, I'm really happy you like it!

That would be an interesting storyline, BKeh! However, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Saleem won't be stupid enough. He knows he couldn't win against Al Hari, that why he surrendered Ziva even if he had the numbers.

To Debbie and Athenalarissa: Their relationship will get better. However, this story will end soon and therefore won't be long enough to have a full TIVA in it, but I hope you still like it and continue to read the rest :)

Dear Guest, here is the next chapter like you requested. Do you mind telling me what you like in my story? :)

As the title suggest, this chapter deals mostly with Gibbs/Ziva/Eli because I love their relationship


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Coincidence

Fathers and daughters

"You go. Stroll through the city or back to the hotel rooms, I don't care. Ziva, we will go for a walk." Gibbs voice told them he meant business and they left without another word. Ziva looked up to him nervously but did not object. The others disappeared, and he came closer, pushing the wheelchair to the bedside. Ziva breathing fastened and he noticed she trembled slightly.

"Ziver," he said quietly. "I will just help you in the wheelchair, nothing more, ok?"

She nodded quickly. "I know Gibbs." She tried to relax. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for that." He held out his arm, let her initiate the first contact then lifted her in the wheelchair carefully.

Her body was stiff. Gibbs knew that she fought to suppress showing any evidence of the pain she was undoubtedly feeling due to the movement. An outsider may not have noticed but it took full five minutes until her posture softened marginally and the pain either decreased or she got used to it. She was still tense, though. Was she anticipating the topic of their talk or was it because he was walking behind her, out of her line of sight?

He drove her down to the hospital garden and stopped next to a bench in the shade of a few trees. Slowly stepping around her he sat down.

"We need to talk, Ziva. You want to come back?"

Ziva nodded shyly. "If you… I would like to. I don't want to stay here."

"I may not talk about it, but I do care for you a lot, you know that, yes?" He looked at her sincerely and she nodded hesitantly, apprehensive of the 'however'-part.

"Do not forget that, Ziver. You're important to me, to all of us. Still, there are a few things we must address first. Your father's a damn idiot, Ziva, and I'm aware he probably messed with you from quite a young age on. However, you are responsible for your own actions. You said on that tarmac that you need to be able to trust the people you work with and the same goes for me."

Gibbs leaned in, his voice deadly serious. "You did not inform me about Rivkin, you kept quiet about your orders to kill your brother to gain my trust and you, Ziva David, you alone pressed a loaded gun to Tony's chest."

Ziva looked as if he had struck her. During his speech she had lowered her eyes, avoiding his gaze.

Gibbs waited to give her time to answer but she kept looking at her hands, silent.

"Ziva, talk to me." She couldn't believe how concerned he still sounded.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, fighting to keep the tears at bay. "Michael… I trusted him, and I did not want to accuse him wrongly. I waited too long, couldn't believe it… And Tony, I was so angry at everyone and he just stood there… but Gibbs, I would never have shot him, you must believe me."

Her eyes were pleading now. Gibbs felt like a bastard but went on. "Ari and your orders concerning his death and me?"

She bit her bottom lip, fingers on her broken wrist and shoulders hunched. "How do you know about that?" she choked out.

"Does it matter, Ziva?"

"I was ordered, yes," she admitted.

"He was your brother!"

"You think I don't know that?" Ziva retorted, desperation in her voice. "I never had the intention to do it. I did not believe it. I volunteered for it only to protect him, was determined to help him escape. Ari was my brother. My protector, always. But I did not recognize him in your basement. I shot him only to save an innocent. You. My father's orders had nothing to do with it, please, you must believe me. He was furious when I reported not me, but you had killed him. Something about now Mossad is standing in your debt instead of the other way around. What Ari had said about him was suddenly… – that is why I applied for the liaison post, away from him. And I was right to do so. The moment I came back he sent me away. First Morocco and this time…" She stopped, breath catching, eyes wild.

Gibbs looked at her closely. Don't talk her down while she's vulnerable he heard Ducky whispering. He expected an answer similar to what she'd said. And although being angry did not excuse assaulting your partner with a gun, Gibbs believed her about not pulling the trigger. Ziva might be trigger happy sometimes – often – and her anger has always burned hot, but Gibbs wouldn't deny her a second chance. That talk served its purpose anyway, it emphasized the severity of that act. She won't do it again.

Now his agent was hurting, and he might be a bastard sometimes, but he won't abandon her. Gibbs reached for her good hand slowly and she did not pull away. Instead she clawed her fingers around his hand, her nails digging painfully into his skin. She sniffled, losing control.

"It's ok, Ziver… it will be fine." He slowly and carefully extended his arms around her shoulders, stroking the back of her head and held her as she finally cried consciously for the first time in years out of emotional pain, not physical one.

oOo

A rather large knife twirling in his hand he comes closer and cuts the cable tie around her wrists. She covers the red tender skin at the right hand – the left is slightly better – with her other hand. He points at her with the knife. "Take off your shirt." She does not react, eyes fixed on a spot behind him. "Take it off," he repeats threateningly, "or my men will gladly help you with it."

Yes, she can imagine that. In her mind she sees them already, sneering and insulting.

Still she remains unmoving. Do it once and they have won. The result won't be different, and she still has some pride left. She may not be able to hold him off, but she won't participate in any way.

She woke up trembling.

oOo

The next day Eli David visited for the first time since Gibbs came with his team. Eli did not even spare them a glance.

"Ziva. You look much better. We finished with the interrogation of the terrorists you were with. They are about to stand trial. Do you want to see them before we give them over to court?"

"Only if I'm allowed to kill them." Ziva said flatly.

Eli smiled. That's my Ziva. Unfortunately, he couldn't allow that.

"I'm afraid you're in no condition to do so, Zivaleh." He waved his hand in a general gesture towards her mangled body, his smile disappearing.

"I could always shoot them. Or throw some knives." Ziva objected, matter-of-factly. Her voice turned malicious. "Missing them a few times, then graze them and when they are crying for their mothers slice them somewhere it hurts and watch them bleed out slowly." There was blood thirst in her voice. Gibbs looked to his team and saw they were taken aback, McGee looked outright shocked, Abby's eyes where wide open and almost bulging out of her head. He remembered the time Ziva was new to NCIS. She'd been fierce as well but not this vengeful. But hell, he did not know what she had experienced.

.

Gibbs left shortly after Eli and followed him. He caught up on him in front of the elevators. They were alone in the corridor.

"Agent Gibbs. What do you want?" Eli asked impatiently and rather impolite.

"Why did you not tell us of Ziva's disappearance?" Gibbs didn't try to hide his animosity.

"My daughter is not of your NCIS anymore and was none of your concern."

"Cut the crap. You knew Ziva's important to us."

"She is, Gibbs, or she was?" He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Ah, forget it. Even if we had told you: You could have done nothing for her."

"We would have tried. We already looked for her. As any decent man would do for his own. But you don't agree with that concept, Director?" Gibbs's voice was icy.

Their mutual dislike was as obvious as it had never been before.

Eli's voice rose as well. "She was presumed dead and her whereabouts unclear. I carry responsibility for things you can't even imagine. I cannot risk the lifes of many for a futile and unpredictable rescue mission."

"Bullshit. You just left her. Did you even try to find her?"

"You left her first as I remember." Eli countered viciously, and Gibbs fought to suppress the overwhelming need to hit him physically. How dare he to compare that? Eli leaving her with the terrorists, not knowing if she was dead or a prisoner of war was no way comparable to seeing her ultimatum at the tarmac as what it was: a choice to stay. To find herself again and to find out what she really wanted and that it was not Tony she was angry with.

"Ziva chose to stay. I respected that." He managed to control himself, but his voice was steel.

"Still you left without her. Feeling guilty now?" That hit home.

"We did not forget her." Gibbs pressed out through clenched teeth.

"Neither did I!" Eli roared.

"You have one hell of showing that!"

"I don't need advice in being a father from you, Gibbs. It's not like you've much practice in that."

"Don't you dare bring in Kelly!" Gibbs hissed furiously.

They stared at each other neither of them willing to back down.

"I want her back." Gibbs finally said resolutely.

"Ziva is Mossad." Ziva is mine.

"You don't give a damn about her."

"You seem to think you've got some kind of claim on her. I wonder why? It is not like you rescued her. We did." Eli was smug now.

"Will you think just once in your life about what's best for Ziva?"

oOo

The food is bad – at least that is what they say. Not that Ziva would know it. Apparently, the travel food with its lack of diversity, of meat and spices is annoying them. Ziva sits with her back to them, anger burning lowly while she thinks of that one slice of plain bread she got and how she longs to have some more.

Resentment is rising as Khalid dismisses their complains but he's the boss and bad food is not enough to incite a riot so four of the most ill-tempered men find an easier target for their frustration.

After all, it is her fault, isn't it? They are here for the Mossad princess.

They have her down on the ground, kicking her until she is lying on the back and one of them settles his booted foot on her throat, pressing down. She gasps for breath, horrified by the choking sensation, the pain and the intense need for air. Her lungs are burning. She wants to bring up her hands around his leg, push it away but her arms are weak, and she only manages to move it a tiniest bit. She sucks in air, it is not enough. Her vision clouds but she still can see the men looking down on her, disgust and hate in their eyes.

She woke up gasping for air.

oOo

Two days later, Eli David walked inside the hospital room as if he owned the place, two men right behind him.

"I want to speak to my daughter. Leave the room." He announced to Abby and McGee. The authority in his voice was impressive, McGee thought and against his better judgment he felt like he must comply. Luckily Abby did not seem to be affected by it and that stopped him as well. She rose from her chair, hands fidgeting in the air. "You listen to me Mister David, we only leave if Ziva wants us to. It was hard enough when Gibbs told us she died and then all was crazy and sad and Tony was so strange and Gibbs was even grumpier than usual but we had work do to and cases and the people needed us and we tried to give them their justice but we couldn't for Ziva that's why we looked for this Saleem-guy and I know we would have found him, I would have found him but before we could do so, she called and why do I tell you all this, because you wouldn't understand but we won't leave her, that's…

"Abby." Ziva's soft voice stopped her. "It's fine."

"Okay… you're sure?" Abby was rather skeptical.

Ziva nodded slowly and showed her a small thankful smile.

They were retreating to the door when Ziva addressed her father. "Your… companions will leave as well."

Eli nodded, and the two inscrutable men joined them outside, watching them like a hawk would look at field mice.

Inside Ziva pushed herself in a sitting position and leveled her eyes on her father.

"Very impressive. You inspire quite some loyalty, don't you, Ziva?"

"What do you want?" Ziva was not in the mood for niceness. And she felt absolutely no obligation to pretend being good tempered and friendly for him.

Her back hurt, her leg throbbed, her skin itched and it was dreadfully boring to lie in the bed for days on no end. Body and mind betrayed her, recoiling involuntarily even from her team. Every move hurt her ribs, the hospital surrounding drove her mad and she was so tired and craving to escape her thoughts but feared to sleep because of nightmares. Sometimes she wondered if she would not be better off if dead. Still, she would not allow herself to reveal the discomfort to anyone, especially not her father.

"The topic of your future came up."

Ziva sighted. It was inevitable, apparently. Think of death and the future knocks at your door.

"I want you back with Mossad, Ziva, as soon as you are healed."

"So you can send me on another suicide mission?"

"Do not act this melodramatic. It does not suit you."

The anger gave her the power to voice the next sentences. "I came back from NCIS two times. In Morocco I only survived because the explosion was in public. This time… it was pure coincidence. So please, Director, tell me what you have planned for this time. I'd love to know where I will die exactly, when my luck finally runs out."

Eli pressed his lips together to control the angry words.

"Fine, Ziva, so what do you want?" Irritation swung with the words.

"I do not want to stay here."

"You want to run back to America?" He scoffed.

Ziva shot him an angry look.

"I do not want you there, Ziva. They have made you soft and weak."

"So that is what you are thinking of me?" Ziva asked, unable to hide the hurt. "I am not weak. You have no idea how it was."

"I have read and listen to them to know enough, Ziva."

Knowing they had lost, the three surviving terrorists were rather free-spoken regarding his daughter. They were less generous about other information Mossad wanted to gain, like Saleem Ulman or Al Hari, their supporters, the origin of the transported weapons or plans of terror attacks but volunteered constantly snippets about their Mossad prisoner, provoking the present interrogators. Primarily the two younger men were bold. It was their last chance of boasting and trying to hurt their interrogators and they made good use of it. One of them was especially brutal in his descriptions. Mocking and grinning proudly he wouldn't stop to describe the countless humiliation acts as well as physical and sexual violence. Eli did not interrogate them himself, but he watched all of it, barely controlling his anger, especially while that young man behaved beyond endurance, picturing graphically so many atrocities. They let him speak at first, hoping he would reveal something of interest but after an especially bloody description of a beating and the following rape the two interrogators lost their patience. They forced him down in the same position holding him the same painful way he just bragged about – he whimpered lowly – and threatened: if he would even name only one more violation of Officer David without being asked they would do the exact same thing to him. After that threat his boldness decreased rapidly but his attitude and feeling of superiority was still hard to tolerate. He just shifted his boasting away from physical encounters, instead concentrated more on how weak she had been, how they mocked her and how his daughter cried.

"You have no idea." Ziva repeated, face closed up.

"You are better with us, Ziva."

"I do not want to."

"If it helps you, I can offer that I am not sending you on any mission you do not approve."

"Why can't you just let me go?"

"Ziva." He sat down next to her. "I thought you dead somewhere in Somalia. I mourned you in silence. And then, out of nowhere, you showed up unconsciously but alive in the trunk of a Hamas car, here in Israel. You survived everything they had done to you and then you survived the ambush. I read the reports, they shot recklessly at the cars. None of them remained uninjured, 6 out of 9 died… It would have been so easy to get you killed in that car as well. If I think about this… them searching the cars and finding you, just killed – by a Mossad bullet. Or by a car explosion. And if we had not ambushed them, Al Hari would be using you as hostage right now, no doubt trying to blackmail us and sending me gruesome pictures and videos of you. I would have been suspended as director until this situation was over. Not able to do anything, forced to sit at the sideline and watch them handle it. Watch you getting killed in it for sure – again."

Ziva was not surprised about how much he had thought about possibilities and consequences. That was his job after all. However, she was astonished he actually told her about it.

She couldn't help herself to suspect some plot. She did not dare to trust him. Not completely at least.

"When Hadar called, saying they found you, I could not believe it. If anybody else had called I would have dismissed it as a cruel joke and the caller would now be thinking three times before doing something. I believed you dead somewhere in the desert, some anonymous bones never to be returned home. Ben-Gidon can consider himself fortunate that his broken clavicle prevented him from further field missions. I would have sent him on the most disgusting and dangerous mission available for letting you go on alone."

"You sent us on. Even after the team was effectively down to Malachi and me. And he was injured." Ziva objected icily. She would not forgive him just because he said some sweet well-chosen words.

"I did not know he was injured that badly. He did not tell me. However, it was a mistake, I realize it. I was blinded."

"Never thought I would live to see the day you admit a mistake."

He shook his head. "I want you close Ziva."

You are the only family I have left. He did not say it, these words would be too much out of character. The first part was unusual enough. Ziva watched him through narrowed eyes. Was it true? Did he really mean it or was he manipulating her again? She did not know. Her father had always hidden his motivations, kept his intensions incomprehensible.

She decided to play along. If he really tried to manipulate her, she could do so as well. He apologized – at least in some way without really saying it, he admitted a mistake. Now she had a free wish. She willed her face to soften. "I promise I will visit, Papa. But I can't stay here, please understand that."


Hope you like it.

Would be happy for some reviews...