A/N: Next installment! Yay! Slowly but surely, we're getting there, aren't we? Now, the rest of this Author's Note is just filler so that the new string of social networking links off to the right here -... doesn't mess with the format of the actual chapter.

Well, enjoy!

Sanctuary was rapidly becoming unrecognizable.

Dozens of people milled through the main square of the town—not one was a face he recognized. They were all strangers, strangers who had come flocking to the Sanctuary's call for aid. It was more than he could have dreamed of, more people than he'd really believed had Survived. And now that they were all here, the Residents were faced with logistical issues they hadn't really anticipated.

The other Survivors had come more quickly than expected, and now the Sanctuary had to find a place to house them until the assault began, and enough food to feed them all. Jethro didn't want to think about it—all he wanted was to scoop Tali up and hold onto her as long as he could, until he had to say good bye to her. Until he left to Rescue her mother, for a second time.

His team, the Council, did their best to give him the time he desired, but he couldn't shirk his duties. This was his war, his crusade, and it would be his words that would rouse the troops to battle. He had to be visible, and he had to be there for the others to know he was real, that he was with them. They had to know him, and that meant he had to sacrifice some of the precious little time he had with his daughter.

McGee had found his calling, serving the receiving party for the incoming Survivors. He answered the initial barrage of questioning—were they really going to go against the Bloods, was the Voice really chasing his Shadow, would he leave the other Survivors alone if he succeeded or would his Residents become the next Black Blood Gang? Tim would tell the story again and again, spinning the tale to speak to the humanity within each of them, winning support for their cause.

But even so, not all who came stayed. Some only came to satisfy their curiosity, to see if the spreading rumors were true. Those Survivors left quickly—most who spent even a night in the Sanctuary ended up joining the Crusade, even those who were reluctant to risk their lives and that of their families. But enough time spent the safe, warm, civil atmosphere of the Sanctuary, and the most frequently asked question was whether, after the assault was finished, the newcomers would be welcome to remain at the Sanctuary.

The Council hesitated, looking to the Voice in silent question for the brief, tense moment it took him to nod his head.

"Yes," he told them simply. It might not be in the same place, it might not be with the same people. But any who stood with him in this would have safe refuge with the Residents who Survived the Crusade. No matter where they next went, to set up their new home, all would be welcome.

But whenever he could, he stole away, immersing himself in the shrinking quiet of the woods around the Sanctuary. In the distance, he could always hear the hustle and bustle of the Residents and other Survivors, some securing food and lodging, others running drills to instruct those unfamiliar with wielding weapons. Most had some rudimentary handle on the instincts needed to kill in defense—a necessary evil these days. But few were comfortable in taking the offensive, and most sought training. Sergei had willingly filled that role.

DiNozzo and Ruby had taken up the task of organizing the Survivors. They kept families together, what few there were, and as with all newcomers, the Survivors were briefed on the first and most important rule of the Sanctuary: No work, no food. Everyone pitched in, in any way they could. They reported for KP and other sundry chores, but the security of the Sanctuary remained in the hands of the Angels they all trusted.

Abby's role was simple, and unspoken. She cared for Tali, keeping track of her in the chaos that grew around them, chasing her through the legs of the unfamiliar crowd, and soothing her tears when the hubbub became too much. But there were some days that the child simply wouldn't be soothed until Gibbs came to see her himself. This was one such time, and like all the other times, he was grateful for the chance to spend a few minutes alone with her in the quiet refuge of the woods. But this time, the refuge wasn't so quiet.

But what set this instance apart was the way she refused to settle, even when Jethro had her bundled up in his arms. Abby had come to him, stressed to the point of tears, her hand tightly clasping Tali's even as the girl yanked and pulled incessantly against her grip. Bellowing at the top of her little lungs, Tali screamed to be let go, and Abby had tearfully relinquished possession of the unrecognizable little monster that was wearing the face of his daughter.

She continued to scream, and struggled against him with all the strength in her furious little body. She writhed and twisted, demanding to be let go, and Jethro felt the eyes of the other Residents follow them as he toted her off to the tree line. They were shocked at her behavior—so was he. She'd never thrown a tantrum before; the most he'd had to deal with was a vicious pout and the silent treatment, and even that only lasted until he looked her in the eye and spoke to her. This… this shrieking and sobbing was new to all of them.

Once they were out of sight from the rest of the Sanctuary, Jethro set himself down on the forest floor. The sharp cracking of his bones as he went down told him that he would be paying for it later, but he didn't care. He crossed his legs and gather Tali into his lap, wrapping his arms around her even as she tried to crawl out of reach. She squalled furiously, but he refused to give an inch. He held her, just tight enough that she couldn't wrest herself away from him.

After a few minutes, though they seemed long, it became evident that Tali was no more used to such behavior than he was. She wore herself out quickly, until before long she was sobbing, against his chest, exhausted. In the silence of the woods, the sound turned soft and plaintive, and soon, even that faded until he was sure she had fallen asleep. He didn't dare move to check and see if his intuition was right—the last thing either of them needed was for her to wake and start up all over again. In the quiet, he could almost relax… But relaxing meant his thoughts immediately drifted to Ziva, knowing that if she were there, Tali wouldn't have been crying.

"Daddy?"

The soft voice drifting up from his lap put the tension back in his chest. He took a deep breath, shoving the sobs that were on the verge of breaking loose back down, and wiped his eyes before looking between his arms at his little girl.

"Hey sweetheart," he said, his voice trembling despite his efforts to make it calm, and strong. Tali didn't need to see him like this. He could see she was tired, confused—she didn't understand any of what was happening, and he was grateful for that. He didn't want his little girl to know what was coming, and he didn't want her to remember that night in the courtyard as anything other than a nightmare.

But even if she didn't understand, she was still scared. Terrified.

"C'mere," he said, when she sniffled plaintively with tears glittering in her eyes.

She leaned into him, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her sweaty forehead. Her small hands clutched at his shirt, and he tightened his hold on her. Not to restrain her, this time, but to pull her closer. She settled more comfortably in his lap, and her arms circled his neck, clutching him with all the strength left in her. His shirt was quickly dampened by her tears, as she buried her face in his shoulder with a pitiful whimper.

He closed his eyes, and held her close, burying his nose in her tussled brown curls. For a brief moment, he could believe those curls were not hers, but Ziva's, though that wishful thinking ground to a vicious halt when he heard his daughter speak.

"I want mommy…"

Oh, god.

The tears came back with full fire, and he sucked in a breath to keep them at bay. "Me too, princess," he told her.

"Where'd Mommy go?" she asked plaintively, wrenching at his heartstrings in that way only she could.

"She, uh… she had to go away for a while," he told her, skirting the horrible truth.

Tali sobbed against his shoulder. "Why? Did I do something wrong? Cause I'm sorry, I promise!"

"No, princess," he reassured her. "You didn't do anything."

"Then why did she have to go away? Why did she go with that bad man?"

Bad man. Understatement.

Gently, he disentabgled himself from her tiny little arms, and carefully smoothed her tangled curls from her worried forehead. "Natalia, sweetheart, I need you to listen to me right now," he told her firmly. She sniffled wetly, and he brushed a thumb over her damp cheeks. "You listening, princess?"

She nodded, her blue eyes wide.

"That bad man… he wanted to hurt a lot of people," he said.

"Did he want to hurt you, Daddy?"

He nodded. "Yes, sweetheart, he did. Me, you, all of us." Her bottom lip began to tremble again, and he questioned his decision to tell her this much. But she had to know. She had to know that her mother had not run from them. "Your mom went with that man so that he wouldn't hurt us. She did it to protect us."

"Because she's a hero, Daddy?" And just like that, her tears stopped, though they sparkled in her eyes. Her fingers dug tightly into the black shirt in her hands. "Is that why she had to go?"

"Yeah, baby girl. That's exactly why."

For a moment, she remained quiet. Then, finally, she leaned forward to hug him once more, and this time, he didn't hesitate. He pulled her closer, until she could rest her head on his chest. "Am I allowed to miss her?" she asked, her voice muffled by his chest. "Even though she's a hero?"

"You betcha," he said, trying not to let his own despair leech into his voice. The last thing he, or she, needed was for her to break into tears again. "She misses you right back, pumpkin."

"Promise?"

He nodded.

"Are you gonna bring her back?" she asked, her voice still small, nervous. The question took him by surprise, and when he hesitated in answering, she kept going. "You gotta bring her back, Daddy. I'll go with you. We can bring her home together—"

"No." His voice cut her rambling short, and she tensed at his tone. "I'm gonna bring her back, princess, but you can't come with me."

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous. If you come with me, I'd be too worried about you to help mommy. Do you understand that?" She shrugged. "You're going to stay with Aunt Abby until I get back."

"Do I have to?" she mumbled miserably.

He almost smiled. "Yeah, you have to. She's gonna keep you safe 'til I get back, all right?"

"Buhwmfdngtbc?" she mumbled unintelligibly.

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"What if you don't come back?" she repeated, this time looking up at him. "What if you get caught by the bad man too? Then I'll be all alone… I don't want you to go!"

Tiny arms flung around him again, and her feet moved to clutch at his sides—clinging to him, like a monkey. But a touch of his hand made her relax once more, and she looked up at him with more maturity in her eyes than he'd ever wanted her to have so soon.

"Tali," he started, his voice low and serious, "I'm not going to lie to you, sweetheart. Bringing Mommy back is going to be dangerous. A lot of people might get hurt—"

"Won't you get hurt?" she cut in, her eyes wide with horror.

"But," he continued meaningfully, "I'm going to be bringing a lot of friends with me to help."

"All the strangers?"

"That's right, baby. The strangers are going to help me save your mom."

"Then you'll be okay… you and mommy?"

Jethro hesitated. Ziva would have read through the silence like the agent she was, but Tali was still blessedly innocent. She sat patiently, expecting him to assure her that he would return without a doubt. The only trouble was—there was doubt. There was doubt and uncertainty and the very real possibility that either him or Ziva, or even both of them would fall before they saw their little girl again.

"Tali…" His voice was soft, but she heard his tone, and instinctively she knew what it meant. Her features fell, almost crumbling back into tears. "Baby… the last thing me or your mom want to do is leave you. We will always fight to come back, so we can be a family. But—"

"It's dangerous," she filled in, her voice dull. He wondered exactly what she thought the word meant. Did she realize it meant they could both die? He decided to not find out either way.

He nodded instead.

"Yeah." She looked up at him, and still, he wondered. "But what's even more important to us is that you stay safe, Tali."

"Why?"

A rippled of shock ran through him at her question. "Because we love you, very very much."

"Then I should go with you," she countered. "I love you and mommy. I want you to stay safe too! Auntie Abby says you're extra careful when you're with me—being careful means you'll be safe!"

A small, wry smile curled his lips. The simple, innocent logic almost made him want to laugh, and not just with amusement, but from relief as well. Because maybe, just maybe, her childhood innocence hadn't been lost just yet.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said finally. "But it doesn't work like that…"

"Why not?"

Jethro paused then. He needed her to see, but he didn't want to scare her.

"Tali… do you want to know why your mom and I want you to stay with Auntie Abby?" Her small brown head nodded enthusiastically, bobbing up and down frenetically. "It's because, if your mom and I… if we don't come back—"

"But you will! You promised!"

He pressed on, refusing to let the girl's growing panic distract him from what he needs to say. "If we don't come back, it'll be okay."

"No it won't!"

"Yes, it will," he countered. "Because you'll be here, Talia. You'll be safe with Auntie Abby, and so long as you are, your mom and I will never leave you."

A furrow crinkled her small brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'll always be with you sweetheart. Your mom too. Here," he tapped lightly on her forehead. "And here." He pressed his palm to her chest, right over her heart. Wide blue eyes stared up at him, soaking in his every word, though comprehension had yet to dawn.

"Because as long as you remember us, as long as you remember how much we love you, you will always have us inside you."

For a long moment, nothing more was said. Tali stared, and Jethro looked back, assuring her that he meant every word. High above them, the sound of rain beginning to fall could be heard, a soft pitter patter muffled by the dense foliage. It would be a while before the elements reached them, he knew, and that only if it fell hard enough.

Gently, he reached out, and cupped Tali's soft cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed her tears from her baby-soft skin, and she wiggled closer. "I'll always love, Tali," he said softly. "Always."

Her shoulders hitched as her breath caught in a sob, but this time it was soundless, almost like a hiccup. Her arms reached around him, and her breath whispered across his neck.

"Love you too," she murmured.

His arms enveloped her again, and together they sat in the shelter of the woods, as the heavens cried for them.