Far Away

Revisit

I have so much homework it's no even funny.

Also, I wasn't looking for this video in particular, but I found it anyway and watched it (and almost cried). I thought it might be a good clip to throw in here, just for feels and whatnot. 

*****

"Are you sure?" she asked as they climbed out of the car.

He nodded, meeting her by the front bumper to take her hand in one of his.

"Okay." She gave him a small smile and let him be the one to take the first step toward the cemetery.

It had been a year since they were here for the funeral.

In some ways they were the same people, in some ways they had changed.

They still laughed, still bickered endlessly, still made their personalities coexist long enough to solve a murder.

But she still felt the guilt sometimes when she was alone and it was dark. Sometimes a few tears still escaped her eyes when she was falling asleep or when she had the water running in the bathroom to cover up any sound that left her lips.

He was still occasionally overwhelmed with the urge to drink to forget. Sometimes he couldn't stop replaying the life-changing moment in his mind. Sometimes he closed himself off from everyone, even Ziva.  He tried really hard to be okay.

They both did.

It had been his idea to visit the cemetery. He was unsure even as he suggested it, and he could see it in her eyes that she was, too, but she made an effort to be encouraging when he teetered into a decision.

She squeezed his hand when he faltered, stopping just outside the gate, but she didn't say anything or try to rush him.

He glanced at her, and she smiled again. God, he loved her smile.

He took a deep breath and finally started walking again. 

They found the grave easily despite the time lapse. It was one of those things ingrained in their memories, ingrained in who they were after LA. The new Tony and Ziva.

An irrational sword of anger stabbed through him as he realized, "I left the flowers in the car."

"No, I have them," she said softly, holding them up.

He sighed in relief, the anger already gone. "Thank you."

"Mmhm." She held them out to him, and he hesitated before accepting them.

He carefully knelt in front of the gravestone and laid the flowers at its base. When he was satisfied with their placement, he lifted his gaze to the engraving. "I've always hated these," he muttered, sitting back on his heels.

Ziva settled beside him. "Because of your mother?"

"Partially because of her, yeah." He caught the sad look she gave him, but he knew that his dislike of gravestones went deeper than the obvious. It wasn't just that they marked death. "I hate that they simplify people's lives. You have all these people, with their accomplishments, their failures, their relationships, their dreams and hopes, and in the end, they're simplified to a name, a date, and a depressing quote."

She didn't respond right away. "Maybe. But... we are too much to ever fit on a gravestone. Anyone who cares enough to visit would already know everything they need to. We know what she accomplished. We know what kind of person she was. We know how much of an impact she had. The people who matter, they carry all of the details inside." Her hand crept to his chest, stopping over his heart.

It was out of place, given that they were in a cemetery, but he was overtaken with a rush of pride for the woman kneeling beside him. 

Maybe he understood what she was getting at. She was too much of an enigma, too much to ever explain. She was simply Ziva. That was the only way to capture her essence in one word.

"Let's get out of here," he said suddenly, rising to his feet and pulling her up with him.

"Where to?" she asked, keeping a hold on his hand.

He shrugged. "I dunno. How do you feel about pizza?"

"Pizza sounds good."

"Then pizza it is."

*****

Okay, I think that's it.

They're together (for the moment) and learning how to cope. Healing is a slow process, but having someone at our side can make it a little easier.

I hope you guys liked this story. Hopefully I'll come up with another one soon. 

Also, if anyone comments for it, maybe I'll add an "x years later" kind of thing to the end of this. 

An epilogue. That's what it's called.

Vote and comment, friends!