So, I really hope you are still enjoying this story. I am skipping some details about the case, as that is not the focus of this fanfic and because I want to get to the TIVA! I assume you all have seen the Kill Ari episodes, so just fill in the blanks. Concerning Ari's conversation with Gibbs before he died: he didn't say anything about being the son of Director David. Oh: Tony and Ziva did not have the conversation about Tali outside of the hotel – I'm saving that for later.
This may all seem a bit confusing, but I'll try my best to explain it.
Disclaimer: disclaimed.
Looking in the mirror of the ladies' room after she splashed some cool water on her face, she reprimanded herself for getting lost in her thoughts like that.
She really needed to get a handle on herself. Because having a fantasy, or remembering a fantasy of them while standing in the middle of the squad room with him just a few feet away from her was definitely not the way to focus on the case.
But the woman she saw in the mirror was not the Mossad assassin she was trained to be. And that worried her. Very much.
She saw a woman with a flushed face – satisfied yet frustrated.
And the water running down her cheeks and dripping from her chin made her weak.
Weak for him, she thought.
She had to go out there. She was pretty sure someone would be looking for her soon. Looking for Ari.
Straightening her spine, she dried her face and walked out of the room, determined to finish this mission and go back to Israel where there were less distractions.
Two days and many dreams and fantasies later, Ziva felt herself being pulled into the elevator by Gibbs.
Difficult as it may be, she has come to realise that there may in fact be more to Ari's story than she originally thought.
Gibbs' plan to lure Ari into the basement of his house was not especially something she wanted to do, but knew she had to.
She had not actually spoken to Agent DiNozzo in the past two days. It was as if he was avoiding her, only speaking to her if something pertained to the case and even then it was in clipped, mostly single syllable words. And she felt herself craving his voice. She wanted to get lost in his speaking rhythms, but he never gave her the chance.
So here she was. Hiding in Gibbs' house, waiting to see whether her brother was a traitor or not. She knew that nobody here knew that they were related, so of course they had no idea how difficult this was for her.
Not entirely sure how she ended up sneaking from her hiding spot to the entrance to the basement, she saw herself holding her weapon trained on her brother's forehead while he held his own weapon trained on Gibbs. She knew what she had to do. Her darling brother had turned on his family and his country and he needed to be stopped.
The only words running through her head when she pulled the trigger was Why me? Why did I have to stop him?
Seeing his head snap back with the force of the bullet entering his skull, she lowered her weapon, standing up slowly. She had just killed her brother. And nobody knew. She did not tell Gibbs. And she was thankful that Ari had not said anything about them being related either.
After Gibbs left, she still stood over his body, looking down on the lifeless corpse of the one person who was always there for her. She did not understand how he could have done what he did, knowing that it would most certainly destroy their relationship.
Hearing thunder crash outside, she softly sang him a lullaby. She still loved him, even if he was a traitor and had joined Hamas.
The rain was her accompanist, thrumming against the windows of the basement where he fell.
Finally she stood up, knowing that she would not be able to hold her tears back much longer. The medical examiner and the rest of the team were probably on their way. She would give her statement later.
The steps up into the house felt a lot longer than they should have, as her legs were almost as heavy as her heart. She walked through the house in a daze, through the door and into the rain. At least now she could let the tears free.
Nobody will be able to see her cry in the rain.
She was soaking wet by the time she entered the little park about a block away from the house that would always be haunted to her now. The rain kept pelting down and the thunder cracked, drowning out the sound of her sobs as she sank down onto the bench next to the playground.