Chapter Text
Note to Self: Three Times or as Many as It Takes
He's already nearly lost her twice. Now she's seemingly gone for good and she's left him the greatest gift possible. But is she really gone for good? Post 13.24 "Family First"
Chapter 1: How Did We Get Here?
The first time he thought she was gone from his life he'd reacted in a way that surprised even him. When they'd found that the Damocles had vanished, supposedly destroyed in a storm, he'd gone to the banks of the Anacostia to stare at the moving water.
"ZI-VAHHHH…" the anguished cry escaped his lips without warning. He cried her name into the dark of the night willing her soul to reply to his. Tears welled up despite his best efforts to stave them off. A distant sound, a bird chirping perhaps, caught his attention.
"ZI-VAHHHH…" he called to her in the darkness and listened for a reply. He fell to his knees on the freshly mowed grass, not caring if he stained his pants. She was gone, taken from his life before he even had a chance to tell her just what she meant to him.
"ZI-VAHHHH…" tears fell freely as he knelt on the banks of the Anacostia, the water softly mocking his tears as it lapped at the shoreline. A sob wracked his body as he looked towards the skies. "Why?" he questioned the universe through his sobs.
A gentle breeze came off the water, hitting his teary face with a small chill. He shut his eyes and saw her face.
'Tony…' the wind carried his name in her voice. 'Find me.'
And so he did. When the hooded figure was half-dragged into the cell, he felt a shift in the cosmos. He felt her soul before he saw her face; when the hood was lifted, his entire being shook. Despite the despair in her eyes and the obvious signs of physical torture, the woman in front of him could not be any more beautiful in his eyes.
When she'd asked him why he was there, he didn't have to even think about his response, "I couldn't live without you; I guess…"
The second time he nearly lost her, he followed her around the Middle East for a month, barely missing her several times. Orli Elbaz's words haunted him, 'We both know if Ziva David does not want to be found she will not be.' Yet, he also knew that the clues she left and the gut feeling he had meant that he would find her.
The trail he followed gave him much insight into the mind of Ziva David. He'd considered himself an expert, but as he learned more about the early life of his Ninja, he realized that his knowledge just scratched the surface. That she had made it thus far in one piece amazed him.
When he'd finally tracked her down in the farmhouse where her story began, she'd asked the same question. 'Why are you here?' She'd invited him, for one; secondly, she already knew his reason. He simply could not live without her.
They'd spent the better part of a month together; she clung to him like a life raft yet pushed him away at the same time. Some days she talked about what was torturing her, other days she'd clam up and brood. But the nights, oh the nights; she was all he'd ever wanted and when they made love at night, it was close to tantric. Their love knew no bounds in the darkness of the Israeli late summer nights. Sleep was secondary to exploring every inch of skin of the other; he often felt that their love-making was her escape from her own mind.
When he'd run out of leave time and she refused to return to DC with him, his heart broke. But deep inside he knew he had to let her find her way on her own. He would wait patiently for her for as long as it took. For two- and one-half years, he floundered without her; an occasional email or text message kept his hopes alive.
And then it all crashed down into a burning farmhouse… his world upended in a single act of violence. He'd wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. He shut out all emotion, bottling it inside until he erupted in the bullpen…
And then all was thrown into another whirlwind; his daughter, their daughter, the product of their nights together in Israel. The minute she grinned at him, he knew. His baby; his and Ziva's baby; his whole reason for being had changed in an instant. A little girl who looked so much like her mother, but with his eyes and grin, who bore the name of her dead aunt and his last name; Tali DiNozzo became her father's everything at the same time he became her everything.
And now, here he was on a plane from Tel Aviv to Cairo with the little girl sleeping in his arms. He'd made his peace with the burnt shell of the farmhouse; at the same time, what he saw confirmed what his heart knew. There was no way Tali had been anywhere near that place when it was struck by the mortar. Perhaps even more affirming was the lack of feeling Ziva's presence; had she truly died in the resulting fire, he KNEW, just knew, that her spirit would linger until he came.
Orli Elbaz had been her usual cryptic self; perhaps even more so than in 2013. He left with the impression that the Mossad director knew less than he himself knew. He reflected on what he did actually know and what was pure speculation on his part. He knew that Tali had been sent to him by Ziva via Orli. He knew that every item in Tali's go bag had been carefully considered and packed for meaning known only to him. The picture, the scarf, the flash drive of documents and photos… His soul knew that she was alive; he could feel her living presence in the places he visited in Israel. That same feeling and a buried opera ticket stub with a picture of her sister found in the olive grove with her new 'I will' list had led him to the current leg of his search for the Ninja.
Cairo, where she had taken her sister to the opera so many years ago. Cairo, where she had met Jenny Shepard, setting the wheels in motion for the journey that led her to NCIS and into his life. Cairo, where he'd just missed her in 2013 as she retraced her life on her journey to figure out who she was and who she wanted to be. And now, Cairo, because she left him the clue with the ticket stub.