Thank you all for your reviews, favs and alerts on this story. I feel like I am letting you down with this final chapter, because even though she goes out with a BANG! (quite literally so), this probably is not the death most of you imagined for Ziva David. For me, there were always two ways she could die, and I did not want to go with the more obvious one.

WARNING! Character Death!

She is a newborn child. She is a hundred years old. She is a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a woman, a saint, a sinner, a devil in the disguise of an angel. She has everything someone could dream of. She has nothing that makes life worth living.

She has aged, is wise beyond her years. She has seen too many horrible things, and too few good in the world. She does not believe in happy endings, and now the faint glimmer of hope that perhaps, they existed, is gone.

She has buried too many people, mourned the loss of too many souls.

Her sister died at the hands of a suicide bomber. A man that hated and killed with only hate in his heart. She was young, ambitious. She had compassion. Had she lived, the world would be a better place simply because of her existence.

Her brother was a killer himself. He died at her hands. She put an end to his existence. He was a man that killed with hate in his heart, and she wanted that hate to stop. She wanted a world where her children could grow up in peace and harmony, where hate and spite would be a thing of the past.

She will die on her own terms. She will be the last person she kills. The last of the children of Eli David to die. This time, he has nothing to with her death. And he is the only one responsible for it. As a child, she never learnt how to love and then let go of the person you loved. You either loved or you did not. There was no loving and not having, never. The world was black and white, grey did not exist. As an adult, there was no more black and white to her world, it was full of shades of grey. The last extreme colors disappeared with the death of her brother.

She has learned to love through him. Learned that it needed time and that unconditional love really existed. He made her believe that everything was possible, even happy endings. He showed her countless movies where everything worked out in the end. She should have known that for them, there would never be a happy ending. It simply just was not part of God's plan for them.

She lost him, both of them, and it is too much for her to take. She could have dealt with losing one of them, maybe, if the other had been there to provide her with a reason to push through the pain and anger and longing and fear. But neither of them is there, all her reason have disappeared.

The gun is the same her brother almost used on himself. It has not been fired since his death. It stayed hidden in a box on the top shelf of her dresser, just out of her reach. There are two bullets in the clip, just as a precaution if she does not manage it on the first attempt. Which she does not assume. She has perfection drilled into her, and she will not allow herself to fail, not when succeeding has never been as important.

There is no pain. There is a bright flash and the sound of a shot and the smell of a gun being fired, but then, there is blinding white light.

Finally, it is over. And finally, she is reunited with her husband, her daughter, her brother and her sister. And even though this is not her life any more - what is it, anyway? – in the embrace of her sister, she feels truly happy for the first time in months.