Nostrum Monumentum - Death and Rebirth
Title: Death and Rebirth
Author: pearly_eyes
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen
Character(s): Ziva David, Ducky Mallard, Leroy Jethro Gibbs
Author's Note: I wrote two connected drabbles as an episode tag to Good Cop, Bad Cop. It alludes to what may have happened to Ziva in Somalia and in my opinion, both are rather angsty.
Prompts: challenge # 166, Dr. Donald 'Ducky' Mallard, from ncisdrabble100
Words: 238
"My dear, you do know that those are bad for you."
The recipient of his soft reproach only acknowledged his comment with a slight nod of her head, but said nothing. Medical Examiner Ducky Mallard sighed. Though it was late, he was more disconcerted to find Ziva David huddling in a near-deserted corner of the NCIS parking garage. Her back to the cement wall, knees to her chest, her mass of dark tresses hiding her face. In between two fingers, she was grasping a lit cigarette.
"I am not smoking it, Ducky, but perhaps, it is wise that you keep your distance."
At the familiar words, his frown deepened. "You are not one who has changed, Ziva, but regardless of circumstances, I am still your friend. Friends do not abandon each other."
"I have left you once."
"And, yet here you are."
"You must wonder why I have this," indicating the cigarette in her hand.
Without waiting for an explanation, she plunged on, "Because it reminds me that I am still alive. Do you know what it is like to go through life with only darkness and nothingness? Your only companion are your own thoughts and lucid dreams. One cannot call such a state as being alive."
In that moment when Ziva looked up at him, he was struck by the utter desolation in those lacklustre eyes. "What happened to you out there?"
"A part of me died."
Prompts: Challenge #165, Leroy Jethro Gibbs
Words: 300
It wasn't uncommon for him to work late especially when the cases get tough. However without any ongoing case, Gibbs did not expect to hear Ducky’s voice down in the parking garage at three in the morning, when he thought that the medical examiner had already left for the night.
Following the distinct timbre of the Scotsman, Gibbs quickly made his way to one of the darkest corners of facility. He only caught the tail end of conversation between Ducky and the other person, whom he now identified as Ziva. She wasn’t immediately visible. Her crutched profile kept low to the ground, blending with the shadows, she was easily blocked by Ducky who appeared to be standing over her.
“A part of me died,” was her forlorn reply.
Gibbs was struck to hear his words being used in this context. He made his quiet presence known by shuffling his feet. Ducky turned at the sound, “Ah Jethro, it’s only you.”
“Duck.”
Directing the attention back to the former Mossad Liaison, Ducky softly but soundly reaffirmed, “The dead trusts me with their stories, my dear. You are not alone.”
With that, it was only the two of them left. Gibbs broke the silence first, “Didn’t know you've taken up smoking.”
It was then that Ziva realized that the cigarette had nearly burnt to her fingers. Flicking the butt to the side, she replied, “It serves as a reminder.”
“Of what?”
“Sight, smell, touch ... that there’s something more than just one’s thoughts.”
“The team is here, Ziva.”
“Have you seen a snake shed its skin and tried to crawl back in it?” At his silence, she looked up, “It’s not natural, Gibbs.”
“When you cast away your old skin, you are reborn. Not all of us gets a second chance at life.”