Disclaimer-Don't own it, but I plan to someday...ha ha ha

Right, so I got this idea a while back, idk how or where and it's been plaguing me. I'm actually supposed to be doing a different story right now and I feel horrible for posting a new one instead of working on that one, but I just HAD to get this one out of my head. It was like a really catchy song that you need to sing out to the end if you're ever going to move on. I actually had this plot based out for two different characters almost three years ago and I noticed-recently-how much better it would be to throw a bit of Tiva at the concept.

Anyway, in this story, 1st person is always going to be Ziva. If it's in third person, she generally is not present in that scene.

It's generally going to be canon, but it takes place in the future, so AU, I suppose, technically.

Well, without further ado, I present the first chapter of Blank:

Waking Up To A New Life

*

I'm sitting on my porch swing with my mother. She's fat with Tali and my head is on her stomach, listening to my baby sister's movements as my mother strokes my hair and sings a lullaby to me. My eyelids grow heavy with sleep and I barely register my father's arrival. He kisses me on the forehead and gently carries me to my bed, finishing my mother's lullaby in a strong baritone. My last thought before I fall to sleep is how much I love my family.

*

"Come on, Ziya!" Wahid yells over at me, rolling his eyes as I stop to glance at my untied shoe. Wahid is a year older than me and thinks gives him the right to be in charge. He doesn't know that I just let him be in charge.

"Ziya!" He yells again, using his name for me, which is really an Arabic boy's name. I was just happy to be treated as one of the boys. And as Wahid's best friend, he made sure I was in all the football games and other boy games.

"I am coming!" I shout back at him, "I just need to tie my shoe!"

"I'm not waiting for you!" He screams back at me, his smile broad, "But I'll save your spot!" He turns back around to walk across the street to where the movie theatre line was getting crowded. We had saved our money for two weeks to see an action movie.

I was admiring how perfectly I'd made the bows on my shoe when the explosion came. Looking up dumbly, I saw the fire, the debris. I heard the screaming and I ran away in the pandemonium.

I thought Wahid had run too, to go hide in our fort. We built one in my backyard, a small lean-to next to an orange tree and a few palms. I ran to meet Wahid and my heart was racing. He wasn't there and still I didn't react. I thought he'd come home crying to his mommy like a baby. I planned to tease him about it later.

It wasn't until I came outside and heard his mother's sobs. They were the anguished cries of a mother who lost her baby. I knew what had happened to my best friend: An act of terrorism.

My mother sang me the same lullaby that night as I sobbed for Wahid, my tears dampening the pillow as my throat ached for relief.

*

"You look beautiful, Ziva." Shmuel looks at me, grinning cheerfully. He still doesn't know how to brush his hair in the back and I wonder why I'm doing this with him. But Tali sighs romantically as she smiles at me and my mother begs me to come closer to Shmuel, holding up her camera. Of course, I am doing it for them. Otherwise I would've told Shmuel a very different sentiment when he asked me to the dance.

Unhesitating, Shmuel places his hand right on my butt, just holding it there and I freeze. Imma tells me to smile and Tali laughs, grabbing my arm to smell the limp white corsage Shmuel has brought for me.

Ari walks over with a pasted smile, "Let me have a picture with Ziva and Shmuel!" He calls out heartily and my mother acquiesces, just delighted to see me in a dress for once. My date was just the icing on her cake.

Especially Shmuel Rubenstein, the boy of my mother's dreams. He's planning to become a teacher after serving his time in IDF and is always nothing more than charming and polite.

He just also happens to be very handsy. And his actions aren't exactly welcome, but I am plotting my revenge in my head. If he tries anything in the car or at the dance, I can just use the pressure points on him that my father taught me.

Ari plucks Shmuel's hand away as if it was nothing and puts his over my shoulder, kissing me on the cheek,

"Boy's got a weak right ankle." He mutters as he draws away, smiling easily for the camera.

I laugh at his statement, my first genuine smile of the night and the one my mother captures. With satisfaction, she allows me to leave to go to my first dance. Relief in the air, Shmuel escorts me to his car and we wave good bye to my family, especially Tali who screams that she must know everything that happened to me. Her curly hair tangles in the wind and her eyes shine brighter as I promise to reveal all my adventures later that night.

The dance was fun. Wild, certainly, and I danced with Shmuel as well as a few other boys. He didn't try to grab anything and I actually felt a real smile creeping on my face at times.

Driving me home, he kissed me and I let him. Even then, his hands didn't go anywhere near my body and I asked him why, afterwards. He turns red and explains that apparently Ari had a few memorable words to say to him.

I laugh and kiss him again.

Somehow, of all the boys in the world, Shmuel Rubenstein ended up being my first kiss.

*

"Oh!" Tali jumps as the lightening booms down again. Whimpering, she gets out of her bed and burrows her way into mine. I growl at first, annoyed, because Tali takes up too much space in my tiny bed and she's fourteen years old. She should be used to thunderstorms by now.

She never liked them, because they sound like bombs to her. Tali is the sensitive soul in my family and I think everyone loved her all the more for her. Father always dotes on her, letting her dance on his feet and telling her that she is his baby girl.

I think about telling Tali that if she is going to be such a little girl, she can go and sleep with our parents.

"Zeev?" Tali's tiny voice peeps up and I cannot help but smile, hearing it. My sister is my weakness and I turn around to see her invading my space. Her eyes are pretty unlike my plain brown. Smooth cobalt with streaks of golden brown blink in the dark gaze at me and I smile at her, despite my exhaustion.

"What?" I ask wearily, closing my eyes again. It has been a long day just to arrive home again for the holidays and I'm eager for sleep, as Tali can tell.

"Is it scary?" She whispered, burrowing into me as the lightening sounded again. I laugh and hug her tightly, giving her a kiss on the head. She's scared of the IDF. Guns too, no matter how much my father has tried to 'numb' her. Ari and I took to these weapons like fish to water, but Tali was different.

"Yeah, but I'm doing the most amazing thing anyone can do." I remind her lightly, "I'm serving my country."

Tali nods, sniffling, "I wish I was as brave as you, Ziva."

I don't say anything. Personally, I wish I was as easy to love as Tali is. Instead, I just let her sleep in my bed and we both sing pop songs from the radio to get her mind off the thunderstorm.

*

"Tali's dead." My father says simply as I sit in his office, Ari next to me.

Ari had been shaking his foot until my father made that statement. He went still at that moment and I looked at my father's grim face, unable to believe it.

"Mah?" I croak softly, thinking I can't have heard what I did hear.

My father glances at me, knowing I've heard what he said, "It's a roadside bombing from what I understand. She was driving with Inbal to school and-" He breaks off and hands us both the file, "It happened two hours ago. Yafa's at home right now and I need you, Ziva, to be with your mother right now."

His gaze flickers over to Ari, who has adapted a stony look on his face. I nod shakily and stand up, squeezing Ari's hand before I leave the room. The tears don't fall down my face until that night.

*

"Oy gesalt, zout Avi!" Someone yells and I jerk up, hearing my boyfriend's name.

Avi Gershonowitz makes me laugh more than anyone else in the world and has wild curly hair that he lets me play with. We surf on the weekends, dance on weeknights, and make love the rest of the time. Every time I look at him, I feel like I'm falling in love all over again.

In fact, the smile on my face has become so commonplace that Mossad is started to notice that I'm incapable of keeping my face straight unless I put a real effort in it.

"Avi po?" I call out, eyes alighting. Avi was on an undercover detail but I thought he snuck away to see me. However, I knew the truth when I saw his head.

And nothing else.

I thought I would be sick. In fact, I was. Very much so, now that I recall it.

The tears came at night, though not as noisily or in great quantity.

*

Nitzan Schwartzer pushed me out of the way and I saw bullets go through her. She saved my life.

*

A Mossad operative nearly went bad, but we manage to eliminate the leader of the terrorist group. I'm shot and the bullet grazes my arm. Ari missed. He turns back to his terrorist buddies. I pant and stare at my brother, wondering if he'd done it on purpose.

*

Shmuel Rubenstein gets married and I end up being a bridesmaid, as his future wife happens to be one of my closest friends. They marry with a promise to love each other until death.

The next day, I saw the newspaper with a giant headline reading: "Suicide Bomber Takes Out Newlyweds"

*

Jenny screams, terrified as I do a hairpin turn on the road. Laughing, I turn up the radio and sing to one of the songs that Tali used to love-Malachi Shamayim. It means Angels of the Skies.

"Ahavat adam hi leholam…"

With a start, I hear Jenny singing along, her eyes tightly closed and her seat reclined. Even so, she is grinning broadly too as her head bobs to the undeniably catchy beat.

*

I see a handsome agent with a five o'clock shadow, his eyes glazed. He talks out to the air, to an imaginary friend, perhaps. He sees me and shuts off speaker on his phone. It intrigues me.

I cut through his awkward attempt to look busy, curious:

"Are you having phone sex?"

*

I line my gun up with Ari's head, shaking to see if I can truly do this. He shot me once, but missed. Hopefully, I will not miss.

I have my father's orders and I have my heart telling me that Ari is one of them: The people that murdered my baby sister, the bad men. One who kills people that I love.

If the day has come that I have to kill my family, than I think it's time for a small change of plans.

*

Tony is on the other side of my door holding up a movie. I let him in as he starts doing his synopsis and go to order the traditional pizza-half sausage and pepperoni for him, extra cheese and olives for me.

*

I fall in love like a bird rises in the air, only I chose to fall in love with a dead man walking.

I hold his bright watch-cap and take it with me to go running the next day.

*

Jeanne accuses Tony of murder only to confess that it is not Tony.

She is coming toward him…for him?

He looks at me with a silent inquiry after shutting me out for weeks.

I tell him to be a man.

*

Jenny dies. Blood is pooled around her and I feel sick.

*

Michael kisses me underneath the stars. He was supposed to walk me to my car, but explains that I just looked too pretty not to kiss.

I laugh and invite him home.

*

Tony pants, staring up at me with his gun and I stare at the body of my dead boyfriend.

*

Saleem looks at me, a cruel smile on his face as he holds up my knife. I raise my neck resolutely, trying not to think about the green eyes that seem to be in the back of my mind since the day I met him, practically.

*

For a second, I think that I'm blind, because everything is black around me. Than I realize that I haven't opened my eyes yet. And my head's throbbing. I'm drifting in and out, these random memories filtering through my head so fast I can barely make sense of them.

My skin feels like sandpaper and my throat is dry like sawdust has settled into it. Foreign smells greet my olfactory senses as I try to figure out why I smell the overbearing scent of alcohol-based hand sanitizer and chemically based lemons.

I can feel an IV drip in my hand, and I can hear footfalls around the room. Murmured voices are talking, but I can barely make them out. Everything is jumbled up. Soft beeping is near me, and they speed up as I struggle to find answers, searching my memory and confronted only with Saleem's ugly face as his hand connects with my skull.

My training tells me that all these signs are of a hospital. An American one at that, as this is not an Israeli hospital. Everyone speaks English, for one. For two, I know, instinctively, when I am in Israel.

It is hard to explain how, but there is a part of me that I left behind in Israel and whenever I come home again, it is there, like the missing circle in a chain that links the whole thing together. It does not matter if there is blood on this circlet, it is still the keystone piece.

How did I get into a hospital? My only conclusion is that Saleem hit me with such force that I blacked out and later, NCIS saved me. Otherwise, I would be dead now. Father would not have risked trying to rescue me from such a dead end, but NCIS has such hubris.

And I am grateful for it.

Gathering my energy, I rip my eyes open, half-prepared to see Saleem's cruel face leering at mine, though I know I am miles away from the man.

There is no one. Only an empty room greets me.

How did I get here? NCIS must have rescued me…I think. There is a small swell of happiness that opens up inside me as I think of my friends: Gibbs, McGee, Abby…and even Tony.

I think of that airplane flying away, Tony and Gibbs on board. I had nothing but anger then, but now I just miss them. I miss both of them.

"Oh!" A nurse discovers me, startled. She pulls out my chart and smiles cheerfully,

"Well, it's good to see you awake. You've had a lot of people worrying about you,"

I smile, positive that it is indeed my former team who has rescued me from hell.

"Ho-" I stop and start coughing. The nurse hands me a glass of water, smiling kindly. I sip it slowly, my head throbbing like it'd done when I stole a bottle of my father's scotch to drink with my friends.

That was a fun night. I was sixteen and half in love with an Arabic boy named Rasheed. He had these gorgeous eyes that made me feel like I was the only girl in the world. He'd dared me to steal the scotch and we joined a few other mutual friends, including Shmuel, who was in love with Rahel, one of my best friends. I managed to drink a few glasses, and my head was pleasantly numb.

I woke up the next day at five in the morning, half naked and Shmuel next to me (thankfully) wearing his pants. The headache that followed was almost half as bad as the one I currently entertained.

"What happened?" I ask quietly, grateful for the cool water that brings life back to my throat.

"You're experiencing some post-traumatic amnesia. That's very normal for this kind of situation." The nurse explains to me kindly, "So don't be too surprised if you don't remember the last few days. I'm going to get the doctor for you and he's going to talk to you."

I nod, "Have I had any visitors?" I inquire

She chuckles, "Does the Pope pray?" She waves to the room and I notice, for the first time, the extraordinary amount of flowers everywhere. And cards line the window. The closest vase is on my bedside table. Dark purple irises, like they have in Israel. The beaches were lined with them.

Tali used to pick these flowers and bring them home to our mother. She'd press them between random books and forget about them later.

I still remember opening my siddur (after nearly three years of avoiding temple) in synagogue for Yom Kippur and discovering neatly pressed purple petals. Tali's flower. She'd been dead almost a year at that point.

There is also a drawing of scribbles that I can barely make out. There's a head, I think, and a smiling face. A few Hebrew letters are on the card, but I can't make out any specific words. It is probably from one of my friend's children. I suspect Tikvah's son, as I am his godmother. But I am surprised that Uri can color at only eight months old. Then again, it could be my cousin's daughter. I was at Razi's fourth birthday party a month ago.

At least I think it's been a month.

*

In the McGee household, the man of the house was currently flipping pancakes while the children clapped and called out special orders for theirs. Three of the kids were at the counter, watching McGee with admiration while the two babies banged away on their high chairs and Abby fed them with expertise, laughing as she did it.

"Are you taking us to school, Uncle Tim?" David asked, taking another swallow of his heavily syruped pancakes. He had been fairly subdued for the last few days, but nobody could blame him.

McGee nodded, "Yeah, but Tony's going to call first and tell everybody the latest news. Katie, what do you want on this one? Blueberries or strawberries?"

Katie, who had her father's cherub-cheeks and Abby's mega-watt smile, broke out into a grin, "Both. Silly question, Daddy,"

"And you, Sophers?" McGee added, glancing over to Sophie who just made a little face

"Pony pancake, por favor" She said, clutching her raggedy pink baby-blanket. Sophie always had a hard time leaving her 'Smeeka' behind, but now that she hadn't seen Ziva in a week, she was all but surgically attached to the thing. Abby couldn't even get it laundered these days.

"Okay, but first you have to let Aunt Abby clean your Smeeka. You'll have it back before you're finished with your pancake." McGee promised. Abby had been upset about the health hazard of that ratty pink blanket, as it'd been dragged through dirt, sand, grass as well as Sophie's mouth.

"Lo." Sophie stuck her bottom lip out and her big brown eyes seemed to get bigger, like Bambi. She had a small smattering of freckles on her pale skin, and her mousy brown hair made people see Tony in her. But McGee mostly saw Ziva, especially in the eyes. But Sophie had a heart-shaped face and her mother's stubbornness. In fact, the only person who could take Sophie on was the same man who could challenge Ziva and get away alive and mostly unhurt: Tony DiNozzo.

Abby had tried to take Smeeka from Sophie when she fell asleep, but the girl had an iron vise with her Smeeka, despite the fact that she could barely wield a pair of scissors.

McGee sighed, "Fine, no pancake for you."

"Ani rotzah a mi Mama!" Sophie said instead, crossing her arms,

McGee turned to David who just rolled his eyes,

"She says that she wants her mommy." He took another bite of his pancake as Sophie continued to glare at McGee.

McGee couldn't believe he was being bested by a four year old, but at least he comforted himself with the thought that it was a phenomenon that only occurred with Sophie. Katie, though five months older, could barely glare at a plant without bursting out in laughter.

"Timmy look! Jett doesn't have any Cheerios in his hair today!" Abby called out delightedly.

McGee chuckled and looked at their son, who gurgled and raised his arms for his daddy.

"Da-da! Da-da!" He whimpered and McGee happily took fifteen month old Jett in his arms as he finished flipping the pancakes, Jett oohing and ahhing.

"He has Daddy's hair." Katie said thoughtfully, "Look, he's not so bald anymore."

All three kids giggled and McGee proudly surveyed his son's thin strands of brown hair. They hadn't really grown in until Jett was around eight months old and even then, he'd been bald on top. But now, it looked like his hair was really filling out. They were light brown, almost Sophie's shade, but lighter still.

"Tal's got black hair like me." David said cheerfully, "And brown eyes like Sophie's."

Tal babbled, hearing his name. Tufts of his thick black hair stood up and Abby would brush it later, admiring how much of it there was. He was the color of tea with a good mixture of milk and sugar, and his baby fat gave him the honorary nickname of 'Buddha.'

From what everyone could see, Tal was all Ziva. Except perhaps the baby fat. But he was a charming baby, and Abby had a feeling that he inherited the Tony DiNozzo charm that his father always bragged about.

The phone rang and McGee glanced at everyone before he picked up, greeting Tony. Nodding a few times, he hesitated,

"No, no, it's just that you've got two kids here who really miss you. And I'm not sure if Abby's going to be able to give Tal back to Ziva," He joked.

McGee nodded again, "Okay. Here's Sophie and David." He put the phone on speaker and went to go put Jett inside the baby playpen. Jett quickly found a pile of blocks and happily lost himself with them.

*

"Yes, Mommy misses everyone very much." Tony added, glancing toward Ziva's room, "Uh, no, no sweetie. Not right now, but Daddy's going to pick you up today from school okay? We'll go to the park and do the slides, huh? No, no, I don't know when you guys can see Mommy. Oh, I have to go." Tony muttered, seeing the doctor walk towards him, "I love you guys…Daddy loves you...bye princess."

He hung up, putting his phone away as he glanced toward the grim looking doctor.

"What's the verdict?" Tony asked, crossing his arms. He'd been getting coffee when Ziva woke up and hadn't been allowed to see her since. She was being examined by the doctor. Though Tony was eager to see her, make sure she was okay, the nurses insisted on having him wait in the waiting room where he'd been pacing up and down during his wife's surgery.

There'd been a woman in there, telling everyone that her husband was a no-good manwhore who was currently in a triple bypass operation and she hoped that he croaked. But she still fidgeted and looked at her watch as if she was truly a worried wife.

Tony's throat caught at that thought.

"Agent DiNozzo," Doctor Bonner greeted him, looking grim

"Mr. DiNozzo," Tony corrected him, "I'm off-duty right now. Is Ziva okay?"

The doctor sighed, "She is functioning incredibly well under the circumstances. Her executive skills are still there, her short term memory is a miracle considering her trauma, and she has no major cognitive problems. However-" He clears his throat and glances at him.

This is the bad news. Tony nods, looking at him, prepared to hear the worst.

"She's suffering from a very severe retrograde amnesia." The doctor explained and Tony blinks, confused.

"She forgot who she is?" He asks, stunned, "Like The Bourne Identity?"

The doctor shakes his head, "No, no. She knows that her name is Ziva David. She knows that she was born in Israel, her family, her friends. She remembers working at NCIS until she was moved back to Mossad in the spring of 2009."

Tony nods slowly, confused

"She remembers a little of the trauma she had at a North African camp, but nothing after that." The doctor explained further, "Ms. David told me that she thought it was at least September of 2009."

"Oh God." Tony whispered, needing to sit down, "But…" He glanced at the doctor, "Does she know?"

The doctor nodded, "I told her myself that it was February 17th, 2019. She didn't take it very well and I had to sedate her."

Tony nodded again, staring at the wall. The doctor continued,

"I believe that she never fully healed from the trauma of that trip to North Africa, Mr. DiNozzo." He paused, "Instead, she repressed it in her mind and pretended that it never happened. With her accident, it brought the trauma to the front of her memories again, but in the process, erased any that occurred after that time. An acceleration-deceleration injury is what we would call it,"

Tony nodded, "Does that mean she's not going to remember what she forgot?"

The doctor shook his head, "Amnesia is an extraordinary thing. Sometimes the patient remembers everything after a few days and sometimes they never do. The important thing to do is tell her stories, show her pictures, anything that helps trigger her memory."

Tony nodded, "Yeah, I can do that, I guess" He stared down at his wedding ring. He never took the damn thing off.

"And that baby is progressing just fine." The doctor assured him, "However, due to this trauma, she cannot be stressed right now. It's very bad for a developing fetus, especially one that's already made it through so much unscathed."

Tony stared at the doctor, "She's pregnant?"

The doctor blinked, "You didn't know, Mr. DiNozzo? The obstetrician has a report of seeing her two weeks ago for the first sonogram."

Tony nodded weakly, "How far along is she?"

"Two months." The doctor glanced back at Tony, "Due to this…unusual case, we don't want you or anyone else to stress her out too much. However, because of her lack of memories, this may be unavoidable."

Tony laughed shortly, "Yeah. She's probably going to be super stressed when she finds out that she's got three kids and pregnant with a fourth…Crap, I'm stressed just thinking about it."

"You're her husband, Mr. DiNozzo." The doctor told him kindly, "And I'm sure she has friends and family members willing to help out during these hard times. Just try not to upset or overwhelm her too much."

Tony shook his head, staring at his wedding ring, "I'm not her husband. We've been divorced for a year. A year and two months now." He laughed shortly, "Damn."

The doctor froze, "So the baby…" He trailed off

"No, it's mine." Tony nodded, idly twisting his ring, "She just didn't tell me."

He let out a deep breath,

"What am I supposed to do, walk in there and tell her that I'm her ex-husband and the father of her four children, one of whom is in the womb?"

The doctor hesitated, "She knows she's pregnant. That was the point where she began getting agitated because she was concerned that a man named Saleem impregnated her."

Tony's hand closed into a fist and he growled, "That fucker. That absolute fucker!" His eyes were wild for a second as he struggled to gather his bearings. He knew that Ziva had been through a lot in North Africa, but she refused to talk about it. Not ever.

"I think that as a familiar face, you should be the one to explain these things to her." The doctor said kindly, "She'll be ready for release in three days, and you may visit her now, Mr. DiNozzo. She'll be waking up in a few minutes."

Tony nods shortly, staring over at Ziva's room. She didn't remember anything. It was like her wish had come true:

"I wish I'd never fallen in love with you, Tony!" Ziva screamed at him and pulled off her diamond ring, throwing it at his head. He caught it and she stalked off. He stood there, staring at her ring. The one he'd given to her himself after working overtime for three months to pay for it.

It was engraved with an infinity following their acronyms, and the date of their wedding.

*

Right, so please read and review. My inquiring mind wants to know how this will be recieved by the general NCIS community. Oh and if I should keep going with this story or just let it be (though there's a part of me that has SO many ideas...)...idk

Oh and I felt that I should contribute a story and get the numbers up (I'm addicted to pressing Popular on the TV category section and seeing how many more stories NCIS needs to beat House-and House is going to break 17,000 soon-which made me feel like all "NOOOO" lol even though I actually love House...I just love NCIS more). Does anyone else do that?