Voicemail
A voicemail.
That was all she had left—a few words that were muffled over the phone. Gently, Kate ran her fingers over the buttons, staring blankly at the phone. This happened every night—she would sit at the table and debate listening to the message and wonder why she didn't just delete it.
A sigh escaped her lips and she pressed the button on her phone. The message started playing, and Kate rested her chin in her palm, biting her lip to keep from crying.
Shalom, Caitlin.
Caitlin. Ziva was the only one allowed to call Kate by her full name. When the Israeli said her name, there was something soft and beautiful about it that Kate loved to hear.
I am at the airport, and I am alive. I already miss you, and I wish you could be here with me.
"I wish that I could have been there, too," Kate whispered, closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to force back tears, "Maybe…maybe you'd still be here now if I had been there."
I wish my father was not forcing me to come back to Israel like this. Maybe I will see you again soon, but I cannot make any promises. Just…just know that I do not want this. I do not want to end us, but I have no choice.
There was a pause, and Kate guessed Ziva had been trying to think of something to say. Kate almost smiled when Ziva coughed awkwardly. It had always been adorable when Ziva got all stuttery.
I love you. So much. And if I never see you again—do not forget me. Please.
"I love you too," Kate whispered, tears falling freely now as Ziva blew her a kiss through the phone, "And I haven't forgotten you. I never will."
I love you. Crap…I already said that. Oh well, at least you know.
Kate did smile at that, wiping at her eyes with her fists. Ziva was so sweet, but each word broke Kate's heart more and more.
I will call you later, if I can. Do not worry if I do not, though.
Ziva never called back. She never got a chance. Kate sobbed as she thought of this and swiped at her eyes again, trying to stop the flow of tears. It had been five months, but the wounds still felt fresh. They were deep, ragged tears on Kate's heart that bled whenever they wanted to.
The message ended, and the next one started playing. Kate sobbed so hard it hurt, shoulders shaking. It was from a hospital—Kate did not need to hear the first part of the message to know. She had listened to it so many times that she had it memorized, no matter how much it ripped her heart out.
Kate Todd, you are listed as Ziva David's emergency contact, the voice of the doctor came through the phone, sounding exhausted, I am extremely sorry to tell you that she was shot, and she did not make it.
There was more, but Kate didn't pay attention. She saved both of the messages, feeling more than a little masochistic for doing so, and kept sobbing.
Ziva David was dead, and all Kate had left of her was a voicemail.
Crap. I think I just depressed myself. Oh well, depressing stuff is good for you somethimes.
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