For Every One...
Rifiuto: Non Mirena
Summary: "How many have you saved?" Gibbs reflects on the growing gap severing his team apart, and prays it doesn't swallow them all whole. AU. Another of Zani's pre-written one-shots.
A/N: I honestly have no idea where she was going with this one, what was going on in her mind at the time, or if it was supposed to be the prequel to another story that she never started or what. Also, I don't know how she seemed to think up something similar to what happened in the first part of the season 12 finale; though I have read her 'Reflection on Luck', and that was written before they really knew whether they were going to kill Ziva off or send her into hiding, so, go figure. Anyway, I'm just trying to clear out some of her folders.- Licia
Tears gathered in the ice of his blue eyes; a simple blink sent them careening down his cheeks.
He turned; they gathered around him, those taken long before their time, at the hands of terrorists and murderers alike... Kate, in the skirt and blouse she wore when they'd met, long before Ari's sniper bullet blasted her brain out of the back of her head; Jenny, cut down by five- or was it four?- shots in that diner out in the Nevada desert, dressed in the slacks and blue shirt she'd died in; Cassidy, Nelson and Hall, all taken down by the same terrorist group in the heart of D.C.; Pacci, killed no long after Kate joined the team; Dorney, the young agent who'd temporarily taken Tony's place on the team during a set of investigations; Franks, his mentor, his boss; Shannon and Kelly, the loves of his life...
They were all there, to comfort him as he bid two of his own goodbye.
"How did this happen? How could I let this happen? I have rules for a reason-"
"You can't stop the heart from going after what it wants, Gibbs."
He shook his head. "They knew better, Shannon-"
"Doesn't matter, Daddy. Agent McGee and Agent David love each other like you and Mommy did-" Slowly, Gibbs turned his gaze from the plane leaving him behind, to the little girl who reached up and took his hand. She was about eight years of age, her long red hair in two pigtails, as they'd been the day she died. No matter how much he wanted to deny what Kelly was telling him, he knew it was true.
This... attraction between Tim and Ziva had started long before now. Now long after she'd joined the team, and it had only grown, the flames refusing to diminish even after Ziva disappeared in Somalia... and they slowly became stronger and stronger after the team brought her home to America. It wasn't Tony the Israeli turned too, but Tim, with his boyish charm and striking green eyes, that quick smile and pure heart.
And Gibbs... he'd allowed it, assuming that the attraction between the pair would fizzle out with time, had given the pair just that- time. But it hadn't.
If anything, it had grown stronger.
And it had culminated in this, the reason he was standing on the tarmac, bidding two of his team goodbye. For they'd married just a few short hours ago, asking the team to stand as their witnesses in a small, quiet ceremony at the courthouse. The plane they had just stepped onto was taking them down to New Orleans, for Ziva had never been to the city, and Tim, unwilling to deny his new bride anything, had agreed. They'd informed Gibbs that some time away from D.C., would be good for them, especially since the bombing.
His head snapped up at the screams, and he took off running, following the EMTs and police that led the way. The Team Leader skidded to a stop, the words caught in his throat as he watched in horror.
Time seemed to slow, all noise stopping.
The plane, that had just minutes ago, taken off from the runway, was coming back to them, tilted on its side, one wing dragging along the ground-
The beat of his heart stilled, his lungs froze, leaving only the pounding of blood in his veins as he watched.
He wasn't even aware of the screams filling his head, of Abby and Tony rushing to join them from wherever they'd snuck off to too be alone for a few moments.
All he saw was them; Tim and Ziva's smiling faces as they turned back and waved goodbye before boarding the plane. Of the laughter that had escaped Ziva's throat as Tim had briefly scooped her up and spun her around before setting her back on her feet and kissing her.
But those images were now sharing space with the sight before him.
That acrid smell filled his nose, as he watched the plane his agents had boarded slammed into the ground, exploding into clouds of black jet fuel and orange flame. Wreckage had scattered for miles, the tail of the plane could be seen, and yet, despite the screams coming from the people who'd been watching, not a sound came from the plane- just the crackle and pop as metal expanded and glass shattered.
"No... no!" For once, Gibbs didn't burst into action; he stayed rooted to the spot, unable to move, to speak, to think... the sight of the plane his agents had been on now forever seared into his brain. He couldn't make out a single figure, single body within the wreckage of the plane, couldn't hear a single voice; he saw no familiar luggage or pair of shoes that would give him identification to where his agents had been sitting. He moved to rush forward, when two firemen held him back. "Tim! Ziva!"
"They're gone, Probie."
Gibbs shook his head, refusing to believe Franks's words; there was no way- his team had been shot at, blown up, held hostage, kidnapped, stabbed, beaten, poisoned... they'd survived all that and so much more, there was no way- absolutely no conceivable way- that he'd lose his agents to something as simple as a plane crash. It couldn't happen... Tim and Ziva were stronger than that, they'd walk out of there- a little burned, a little bruised and bloodied, but alive.
"How many have you saved, Probie?"
But the Team Leader shook his head, the tears falling to his cheeks.
He choked on a sob, sinking to his knees, the whisper clogging his throat.
"I haven't saved enough."