Mar 13
Truly, to tell lies is not honorable;
but when the truth entails tremendous ruin,
To speak dishonorably is pardonable.
Sophocles (496 BC - 406 BC), Creusa
Ziva David was strangely truthful.
In spite of her propensity to torture and kill, in spite of her assassin background and her view of the world, she rarely lied. Not unless she had to, anyway. Lying was dishonorable, as was cowardice or an outward display of emotions. Lying was only acceptable for the greater good.
And yet she lied about an event which had changed her so much. A lie about who had pulled the trigger in Gibbs' basement; a lie about who had killed her own brother.
She was not the type of person to deny her kills. She knew exactly how many people she had dispatched, although she could not recall all their names. But she remembered the how and why, and perhaps that was more important in her line of work.
She continued to lie about who had killed Ari. Everyone believed it to be Gibbs, but she had done it. She had committed fratricide. She had pulled the trigger and ended her brother's life. And even in that moment, she had loved her brother.
Perhaps that was why she lied. Admitting she had killed the man who had practically raised her, who had adored her more than her own father, who had protected her and shielded her – she could tell herself the truth but she was not ready to explain to other people why she had done it. It would be too hard to explain how she had killed him out of love. She could not allow her brother to remain the monster he had become. But at the same time she could also not view him as the monster that others saw.
No, it was far better to lie in this case. She would not lose anything by this lie, and neither would Gibbs in covering for her. It was their secret and did not need to be shared.