A.N. Came to me late one night. Could be a little bit more fragmented that normal but please review!!!

Missing

Please, please forgive, I thought as I stood on the tarmac watching my friends, my family, my life fly away. But I won't be home again.

I knew none of them would cry because I had stayed in Israel. I had pushed everyone too far these past few months and more than anything I wanted them just to forget me. Better forgotten than hated. But most of all I wanted them to forget me so I could forget them.

To be back in Mossad, back as a killer I had to push those four amazing years into the back of my head, lock them away and never talk about it again. If I talked about it I might go crazy.

I had to lock away the soft, caring Ziva that had been born in America forever but when I did I couldn't help but think, isn't something missing?

I had waited to tell Gibbs that I was staying, not because it was a last minute decision but because a part of me was worried that if Tony knew I was staying he would have tried to stop me but a bigger part of me worried that if he knew I was staying he would do nothing.

He had denied being jealous of Michael at every turn and back then I didn't believe him and now? Now after he had killed Michael, come to Israel, been nearly killed by me and left me standing on the tarmac, I felt more alone than ever.

Isn't someone missing?

I turned around to face my father; his eyes rock hard and words of an unfinished mission on his lips. Even though he didn't say it, it was screamed out with every word he said. Suicide mission.

Please, please forgive me, I thought, looking into his dark eyes but seeing two green/grey pools of light and smiling lips. But I won't be home again.

-

I breathed deeply and tried not to scream as Saleem's hard boot connected with my stomach over and over. I couldn't help but think of Him. Him and Them; the people I had tried so hard to forget and I thought, isn't something missing?

The joking, the laughing, the teasing, the flirting, the lust filled gazes, the slaps on the back of our heads, the beatings, the torture, the dark, dusty room, "Tell me everything you know about NCIS" all melded together and as Saleem walked out, leaving me beaten and broken on the floor and felt more alone than ever.

Isn't someone missing me?

I kept quiet; didn't say a thing about NCIS and I felt the anger and pain, not from the beatings but from knowing that none of them knew I was slowly dying in here for them.

I couldn't sleep because I would see His face, hear His voice calling for me and then I would wake up and he wouldn't be there and I would think; isn't something missing?

I slowly faded away to nothing in that camp and every day I wondered, isn't someone missing me?

-

Years later on the other side of the world, Tony sat at his desk, throwing paper balls at the newest Probie. Suddenly he stopped and leant back in his seat, looking up at the bland ceiling. To no one in particular and barely conscious of what he was saying he asked,

"Isn't something missing?

Please Review!!!!

Jules