I'm alive! So sorry that this took so long but my computer crashed and I've been unable to do anything with it. So thirty six system restores, twenty eight Spybot virus scans, sixteen AVG virus scans and one memory swipe later it's finally working again! I lost all of my data though and basically had to re-write this chapter. It was harder to get back into the swing of writing than I though it would be but hopefully this is still half way decent. Enjoy! Or at least try to...
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS
Ziva sighed, resting her body against the car seat for a moment as Tony and Hannah got out making their way to Tony's apartment building. The farther they got into this the more pieces seemed to be missing from this crazy puzzle. How could Hannah know that Ziva was the one who killed Ari? How did Michael know? How had it come to her father's attention? Only she and Gibbs knew the truth and yet it was as though someone had been listening to her private conversations. How was she expected to explain to Hannah that she had killed her father? How could she justify herself on something that she still felt guilt and regret for doing? Hannah was five, could Ziva honestly expect her to comprehend the situation? She did not want Hannah to think of her father as an evil man, she wanted Hannah to think of Ari in the same way that Ziva liked to remember him. The caring protector, the stronghold and safe fortress, not a man who killed innocent people, one who was driven by hate and by his anger and resentment. No child should think of their father in that way. Daddy's read you stories and danced around the house with you, at least that is what Ziva had seen portrayed in America. Loving embraces and holding you close when you were fearful, that is what father's did, right? Hannah probably did not have any memories of Ari, if he ever even met her was still a mystery to Ziva, the things she had heard, or had imagined herself, was the image of her father. Ziva could only hope that that image was a good one and if it was there was no way she could destroy it. Even though Hannah would most likely hate her, just like Ziva still hated those bombers who killed Tali, she would much rather have the small girl see her as a monster rather than to have her see her own father as one.
Ziva jumped at the rapid tapping at her window and instinctively grabbed her gun pointing it at the glass. Tony jumped back as soon as he saw the barrel of the gun go right where his forehead was. He held his hands up in mock surrender and Ziva breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was just her partner. She reholestered her gun and got out of the car, following Tony up to the door. "I was wondering what happened to you," he says as they climb the stairs to the third floor. Ziva stops outside the door and turns to face Tony.
"Perhaps I should just go home," she suggests and Tony gives her a worried glance.
"What? Why?"
"She must hate me Tony," Ziva says, what did he mean why? Sure Tony could be slow but he was not that bad. Or at least Ziva did not think he was.
"Hannah?" Tony asked as though the thought had never even crossed his mind.
"Yes Tony, I killed her father," Ziva said as a reminder. Perhaps he had amnesia or the lack of sleep was getting to him.
"You didn't actually kill him, Ziva," Tony says as though she had forgotten. His mind set quickly changes as he sees her eyes fall from his stare. She takes a breath not wanting to have to admit the words. It was bad enough that she knew what she had done, she did not want anyone else to know. It was a secret, one that you feel extreme guilt over. How could she reveal the truth, the horrible reality.
"I did." Tony stares at her in surprise. She had killed her brother? Hadn't Gibbs killed Ari? That's what he had said. That's what Tony had believed.
"You..." Tony starts to ask but cannot even find the words.
"If I had not... Gibbs, he would have been killed. I killed Ari, Tony," she says like she was confirming it by repeating the words. "Hannah is right. I am rah me'od."
"No, Ziva-"
"Yes, Tony. I betrayed my family, killed my own brother. Killed her father." Tony sees the pain and regret in her eyes. She feels guilt, now not just for killing her brother but also for killing Hannah's dad.
"What's worse Ziva? Growing up without a father or having a father like yours?" Tony questions trying to change her way of thinking. "You told me yourself that Ari was not the brother you grew up with, he was a monster. Hannah would have grown up perhaps in worse conditions then she is in now. Ari might not of even been a part of her life but if he was what would the situation of been like? From what you have told me of Ari and from the things I know he was not in a suitable positioning to be a father. Isn't it better for her to believe her father was someone who loved her then for her to have grown up knowing, and living, the exact opposite?"
Ziva presses her hands against her head to the area where the ache was growing. "I...I do not know," she admits, exhaustion washing over her. "It does not matter to a child though."
"I don't think Hannah's capable of hating anyone Ziva. Besides didn't you hear her in the car?"
"No," Ziva says. In fact she barely remembered the drive over to Tony's apartment. Everything had been a bit of a blur.
"She said that she didn't think you were rah me'od. That she didn't blame you for her aba's death. I'm telling you, Zi she's one smart kid."
"Tony there is no way she could possibly understand that-"
"But I do," Hannah says from the doorway, neither had noticed she had been there. "In Israel I listen different things. If you are quiet enough you can listen with no one noticing. I am told things, no true things, but when I listen I learned the truth. My Aba, he was rah me'od, like I told. He did bad things, and he would had did more bad things if you did not kill him. You saved lots of people. You are tov me'od," Hannah tells her, nodding her head at the end to emphasis her point.
"Hannah, I am very sorry," Ziva says kneeling down to the girl's level. Ziva finally was able to get a good look at her. Wild curly hair and big brown eyes that shone with determination in them. She had Ari's nose and the same arch in her eyebrows that Ziva's father had. She was small, tall for her age but very skinny. The skin on her hands were raw as were her lips, probably from the climate change. She had suddenly been taken from Israel's desert like area to the freezing weather in DC. Her posture was attentive and alert and would see her shift her eyes, only for a second, to certain noises. Either her instincts were impeccable or she was being raised in Mossad style. Ziva desperately hoped it was the first.
"I understand," she said. Stating the very thing Ziva did not find possible to believe. "Do not sorry."
Ziva smiled at the girl's mistake but caught herself before she corrected her. Perhaps she understood why Tony corrected her English so often a bit more now. "I will always be sorry," Ziva explains, she would never justify to herself, or anyone else, what she had done. No matter what the consequences would have been otherwise. "Sometimes we live with regret no matter the right, or wrong, of our choices." She felt that it was rather pointless trying to explain such difficult things to someone so young. However, Hannah's eyes revealed, not only the confusion that Ziva had expected, but also comprehension. "Does that make any sense to you?" she asks and Hannah nods her head in confirmation.
"Can we watch the Bonds now?" Hannah questions, her eyes now looking up to Tony.
"James Bond?" he asks figuring she meant that. Either that or Stocks and Bonds, more of a book for her to read with Probie though. "You bet!" Tony exclaims then throws Hannah up on his shoulders and running into the apartment, he spins her around the room a few times before tossing the giggling girl down on to the couch. Ziva could not help but smile at the loud gasps of laughter coming from Hannah and the deep chuckling of Tony. Perhaps, if this whole dilemma were to turn out okay, it would very well be worth it, it would be worth more if this is what it would bring her. Happiness was priceless.
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS
Tony slips his arms out from under Hannah as he places the sleeping girl on his bed and walks back out, quietly shutting the door behind him, to join Ziva in the living room. He sighs as he plops down on to the couch next to her. The room now completely silent, void of James Bond and Hannah's snoring. He looks over at her, the dark circles under her eyes and large yawn giving away her pretense of the claimed not being tired. They sit in comfortable silence, both having things to say, questions to ask, but too happy in the calmness of silence to disrupt it. As Ziva unsuccessfully tries to hide another yawn Tony decides to speak up. "Maybe you should get home," he suggests looking from the time on his DVD player and back to her. "Get some rest."
"I am fine, Tony," she claims in a rather unconvincing tone. "She seems rather attached to you," Ziva says. Clearly she had been thinking of Hannah, now striking up a conversation of her. Tony was unsure if that was because she was as interested as she seemed or to distract him from having her go home. He decided it did not really matter, it wasn't as though he really wanted her to go.
"Hannah's pretty attached to everyone," Tony says shrugging off just how much he knew that little girl had grown to trust him in the past couple nights. "Anyone who's not whacking her on a regular basis is good in her book." A pained expression crosses across Ziva's face at his words. Perhaps Hannah was more like Ari than she knew, or wanted. "Sorry."
"You have no need to apologize for anything, Tony," Ziva tells him. "If anything I owe apologies. After all I have put you through, everyone through. Gibbs, Abby, McGee, Ducky, and of course you Tony. It feels like such a waste." Tony's eyebrows pull together as those words slip past her lips. He begins to correct her but is stopped before his mouth is even open far enough to make a word. "I know what you will say, Tony and I appreciate it but it is completely unnecessary. You are all risking your careers, not too mention your lives, and why? Because of my incompetence to inform you of what was going on when I had originally discovered it. Because I was naive enough to go out for a run when I should have known exactly what would happen. It is my fault that it ever went this far in the first place and I am sorry."
"You know that none of us blame you. Right, Ziva?" Tony asks and when her eyes still don't meet his he knows the answer. "Ziva David," he says in a joking yet meaningful tone, "I always believed you were smarter than that. You're the victim, Ziva, not the one at fault. You already apologized and you know what they say about forgiveness." Ziva gives him a look and he laughs softly. "Okay I take that back. You don't, no surprise there though. This isn't your fault. Who knows maybe your father would have just used some suicide bomber and none of us would have known about it meaning there would have been no way for us to stop it. So then the president would die, the director would die, you would die since you're the one accompanying Director Vance and let us not forget all the cheese cubes that would have gone to waste."
Ziva smiles, more grateful than ever for Tony's way of brightening a situation. "Thank you, Tony." The sincerity drenches her voice, leaving not even the slightest bit of doubt in her gratitude.
"Just promise me one thing?"
"Which is?" Ziva asks, slightly nervous of what his request would be.
"No more runs. At least till Sunday."
"If we live that long
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS
"I got your last goblin!" Abby exclaims a smug smile creeping across her face. Abby awoke from the floor of her lab at one in the morning and although going home and getting more rest-especially since she had to get to work in four hours to turn Ziva's wires back to the live feed-would have been much more wise than going to McGee's apartment and playing computer games with him, she didn't particularly care. Odds were she wouldn't have even gotten more rest and would have been up worrying for most of the night. This was better.
McGee had been writing. Well he was writing, and then he went to re-reading the same last sentence trying to think of a good way to go on to the next one. Twenty minutes later of staring at the same sentence he was extremely grateful for Abby's interruption. "Oh yeah?" McGee challenges as he blasts another attack on Abby's sorceress, "Well I still have five trolls where as you're down to two."
"Who cares? Trolls are like the bottom of the food chain," she says just as her sorceress is met by a body-slam from McGee's were-wolf.
"Haha," he gives his mockingly triumphant laugh, "In the lead even more." McGee's tone void of all modesty and he turns to look at her with a smirk across his face.
"Well maybe if you were paying attention you would have been able to stop my vampire attack," Abby tells him and watches as his prideful look becomes one of horror. He quickly tries to stop the vampire's chant but isn't even close when the screen is suddenly engulfed in a white light and then flashing a red "Game over" on McGee's side of the split-screen.
Abby is now the one with a contented grin on her face as she stares over at McGee. "I've always told you getting cocky would get you in trouble," she reminds him as his jaw remains open staring at the screen as if he could some how change it by breathing through his mouth. "Not to mention it's extremely unattractive."
"Yeah well not all of us got a six hour nap. I've been up since five this morning!" he reminds her trying to pin his failure on to other things.
"I offered to go home."
"I haven't eaten anything in a while either," McGee continues. His next excuse is all ready for when Abby calls him on this one.
"We devoured a family size bag of Dortios just twenty minutes ago."
"I haven't showered in, like two days."
"That's just highly unsanitary," Abby retorts, proud of herself when McGee finally falls back into his chair in defeat. "Most adults can take to losing a lot better."
"Most adults don't sleep in a coffin," McGee tries but knows it's a failure. Abby was strangely proud of sleeping in a coffin.
"Most men aren't intimidated by women," she counters, putting extra emphasis on 'men.'
"I am not intimidated by women!" he exclaims, more defensive than need be.
"You mean you aren't intimidated by me, Tim?"
He knew that the words should be something he should deny but her tone was just so angry. "I- uh well, I mean that. No. I-I'm not..."Abby smiled even larger. She felt bad for a second, McGee was pretty out of it, but recovered from the guilt when he unplugged the computer. "I'm going to bed now."
"One more game?" Abby pleads feeling like a child. She should sleep, they both should. But since when did they do the thing that they should do? And what would a wood chuck chuck?
"You can play all you want yourself, I guess," he says and flips the switch back over for the computer to reboot. He should have known not to turn it off. "I am going to bed. We have to be up in..." he pauses and looks at his watch, "An hour and twenty minutes. One more game," McGee says and sits down next to her. They were going to be over-loading on Caf-Pow tomorrow for sure.
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS
It's horrible I know but I had a rather hard time writing this. Hopefully I'll be able to get back in to the swing of things soon. Please review even if it is just to tell me this chapter was way below standards! Thanks for your patience guys. Have a great week :)