It's been a long time since I wrote a chapter on my phone, but seeing as my stupid laptop decided to update, I don't really have a choice (and can't do homework without the laptop so I might as well do this, right?).

*****

The mind replays what the heart can't repeat.

~Yasmin Mogahed

*****

It was harder to keep Tali at his side once they exited the airport. Tony wasn't sure how good a toddler's memory was, but he wondered if she recognized Tel Aviv.

"Tali, come back to Aba, please," he said for what felt like the hundedth time.

At least she listened to him, and came running back, crashing into his legs.

He was definitely going to have bruises on his shins.

It took a while to catch a taxi, and somehow it made him even more nervous than it did the last time he came to Israel.

Probably because of Tali.

It was already a lot of effort to make sure the cabbie didn't try to cheat him out of his money (not to mention the possibility of being pickpocketed), but add to that the need to constantly be watching Tali... It was a lot to deal with all at once.

Finally they were in the taxi and squeezing into traffic.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked, and Tony froze.

Where were they going?

Honestly, he wasn't even sure why they were there at all. He just knew he needed to get out of DC, and Israel seemed to be the logical choice.

Before he could stop himself, he spit out the same address as last time, an address that no longer really existed.

The cabbie shot him a dirty look in the mirror (it was going to take a while to get there, especially in this traffic), but Tony was too busy worrying about other things to care.

What were they going to do when they got there?

The house was gone, or at least uninhabitable. He doubted the cabbie would stick around, and he knew for a fact that he'd never be able to catch another cab way out there in the desert.

Maybe the neighbors would let him and Tali stay the night?

He'd have to figure something out quick.

He also needed to figure out why the hell they were in Israel, headed to the place he last saw Ziva, the place were she was murdered, and what the hell he was going to do about it.

Was there even anything to do about it?

Maybe if he could have a word with that doctor lady, the one who blamed Ziva for Ari's death, the one who convinced Ziva she was a horrible person for doing her job. The one who inadvertently caused Ziva to stay in Israel as a sitting duck for mortar fire.

No way he'd be able to control his emotions if he saw that woman.

"You sure about the address?" the cabbie asked, pulling Tony out of his thoughts.

Even though it was the perfect opportunity to change his mind and back out, Tony still found himself saying, "Yes, I'm sure."

The cabbie huffed at him and then put on his blinker to change lanes.

Tony took a moment to look over at Tali.

She was kneeling on the seat, hands pressed to the grimy window as she stared out at the city.

She looked over her shoulder at him for a second, the biggest grin on her face. At least someone was happy.

***

Tali seemed to become more and more excited as they neared the house.

That being said, she was bouncing around in the backseat by time the taxi stopped.

"This the right address?" the cabbie asked, understandbly confused by the sooty wreckage before them.

"Yes," Tony said. He sighed and passed the cabbie a wad of money.

Tali turned to grin at him again, somehow both recognizing her surroundings but not seeing the destruction of everything she knew.

"Come on, Tali. Let's go home."

He took her hand and helped her out of the backseat while the cabbie pulled their luggage out of the trunk.

He thanked the cabbie again, but no sooner than he had said them, the taxi was shooting off in a cloud of dust.

"Ima," Tali said, tugging on Tony's hand. She pointed toward the house, and he supposed it didn't look too awful.

He had been imagining much worse.

He moved their things from the road to the flattened grass, but then he left everything there in favor of picking up Tali.

They slowly approached the house, Tony's mind flooded with memories of the news footage. He could almost see the flashing lights, hear the sirens of the emergency vehicles and the yells of the first responders, feel the warmth of the flames.

It was almost too much to bear.

But a need for closure, a need to find where Ziva was in her last moments, spurred him onward.

"Ima." Tali's voice was softer now, almost as if she was remembering the events of that night.

How had Tali survived?

How had they gotten her out of there unscathed, while Ziva...

Tony shook his head, stopping several meters from the house.

Did he really want to do this? Did he really want the answers to all his questions? Was it really worth it?

He didn't know.

He took a deep breath and rounded the side of the house, going instead to the back entrance.

It could almost be called a good decision.

The back of the house was less damaged, maybe even looking almost normal if you squinted and tilted your head a little. Almost.

He turned away from the house, suddenly drawn to the trees that populated the back of the property.

He remembered that day they came out to bury Ziva's letter. He should've tried harder to convince her to come home. He should've told her how he felt.

Too late now.

He slowly set Tali down, and she toddled off into the trees in the direction of the letter.

How did she know about that?

Did Ziva tell her about the letter?

He followed Tali to the clearing, and his breath hitched when he saw the large patch of freshly-upturned dirt.

"Tali, come here," he said sharply.

She stopped mid-step, tumbling to a seated position. She stared at him with wide eyes, confused by his tone. "Ima," she said, pointing to the disturbed dirt.

He felt like he couldn't breathe.

He just wanted Tali to get away from there.

He wanted to run far, far, far away from this place and never think about it again.

"Tali."

"Ima."

*****

Aw.

Where should the story go on Friday?

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