A/N: So I wrote this little thing last night, it's a tag to the episode 'Dagger' from season six. I hope it gives you feels.

There is nothing quite like hearing that your mother would never embrace you again. There is nothing that can prepare you for it, nothing can make it better. As she watched Amanda Lee draw her apple with clumsy, innocent hands, her heart clenched. She was still living in a time when her world was happy and complete. Ziva knew that time would soon be brought to an abrupt end.

"That's very good, Amanda," she praised as Tony brought Amanda her breakfast. The little girl was so beautiful, so unscathed by the all she had seen in the world thus far, despite all of her traumas, despite the loss. She couldn't help doting on her, even if she was only going to be with them for a short time.

When she saw Gibbs approach, she knew the time had come. It was time to shatter this little girl's world into a million pieces.

"Where's Michy?" she heard from the corner.

When Gibbs handed Amanda Michelle's badge, it was all she could do to try to keep her tears at bay. She could see Tony's look of concern but ignored it, walking away to the ladies room to gather her thoughts.

She sniffed softly, trying to repress all of the memories that were overwhelming her. There were too many things reminding her of the day she was told her mother was never coming home. An experience like that is impossible to forget.

It was a relatively quiet summer day in Israel. Ziva was chasing Tali around the backyard of their home in Haifa. Ziva would catch her, tickle her and let her go, repeating the process all over again when Tali ran as fast as her little legs would take her. Three years Ziva's junior, her legs were not as quick or sure as Ziva's, something her older sister would never tell her.

They fell to the ground laughing, staying put to lay on the grass and watch the clouds. She felt a surge of excitement when she saw her Dod Amit. Perhaps her Ima and Abba were back from their trip.

"Dod Amit!" she cried happily.

"Ziva," he said without a hint of a smile on his face.

"Why have you come?" she asked. "Would you like to play?"

"No, Zivaleh, I have not come to play today."

She cocked her head to the side in confusion. The only time he or Papa called her that was when they were going to give her bad news. "No, Zivaleh, he will not be home, you know he is very busy. No, Zivaleh, you cannot have a pony. No, Zivaleh, I cannot make it to your recital this time."

"I am here because I have something very important to tell you."

"Is it a message from Ima?"

"No, it is not," she wondered what could have her uncle so looking so serious. She listened intently, as she always did. They stood in the middle of the back yard, the sun beating down on their backs, Tali still laying on the ground behind them staring up at the clouds.

"Ziva, your mother was killed last night, caught in a crossfire."

"What?" she asked, not believing what she had just heard.

"She was walking in the market with your father when gunfire broke out. She was killed before your father could get her to safety."

She didn't understand. Papa always said that when he left, it was only to keep them safe. Every time he was gone for months at a time, he always said it was because he was busy keeping Israel safe. Why wasn't Ima safe with him?

"Where is Abba?" she asked, her eight year old mind needing her remaining parent to explain to her what was happening.

"He was called away on business."

She only nodded in response.

Ziva had tears rolling down her cheeks. Her Ima was gone. She would never hug her, or brush her hair, or sing to her ever again.

"But who will take care of us?"

"I am sure Adara will be capable until your father returns." His response was detached, serious, offering no comfort to the sobbing child in front of him.

She nodded once again.

"I have something for you." He pulled something very small out of his pocket. "She would have wanted you to have it."

In his hand was her mother's Star of David necklace, the one she wore every single day. Ziva held out her hand and Hadar pressed it gently into her palm. The metal was warm. She would pretend it was because it had so recently lay on her mother's chest, like when she would play with it when she would read to her before bed. She closed her fingers around it, clasping the only thing she had left of her mother tightly, as though if she let it go it would slip away.

"I am sorry, Zivaleh," he said. He turned away, presumably to tell Adara all of her new responsibilities as caretaker. Ziva watched him walk away before looking down to her palm once again. The metal pendant glinted in the sunlight as she inspected it. The last piece of her mother she would ever have. She clasped the necklace around her neck, vowing that from that day forth she would never take it off again.

Ziva rubbed the small pendant between her fingers, a constant reminder of all she had lost. She brought the necklace up to her lips, kissing it gently. She took a deep breath and put her walls up once again, preparing herself to say goodbye to the little girl whose pain she knew all too well.