Note: Well hi, fancy seeing you so soon. I finally worked this mess out so I decided to upload it early. This story will not at all resemble any of the others I have already written, so prepare yourself. Please be aware that this story has not been planned ahead, I'm the type of person who works out the puzzle pieces as I go along so hopefully this story will make sense and if not, well at least I tried? This story takes place nine months after the summer but five months after 11x02 - I had to watch the episode for this and it killed me - so Ziva did indeed leave. This is AU as the only canon lines it follows is up to 11x02 because who watches the trash the show has become now? That means no Ziva clone - because ew - and Bishop...I hadn't decided on that one yet. Please do not expect daily updates on this story, because this chapter in itself worked me for four days. So we shall go for the weekly updates - groans. I know, I know. It's not fair, but to help my creative juices it has to be done. Anyways, do tell me if I should continue this - even if you are the only one who wants me to, I will just for you - because there is no point in me uploading if no one enjoys, si? If you hadn't come to the conclusion that this is a Ziva and Tiva story and that isn't your poison, I do not apologize and ask nicely for you take your negativity elsewhere. Also, I have no idea if there is another story out there like this one so if there is, I apologize and hopefully they won't be the exact same?

This chapter is considered overly-descriptive, written that way on purpose as I considered Ziva not one to reflect on the past while dealing with business.

Disclaimer: Back in 2013 I really would have loved to have it, but they can keep the sorry excuse the show has now become. Oh, the mistakes are mine though!

Yeshuah - Salvation

[one]

The sweltering sun scorched high above precipitating perspiration through the glands on her forehead, neck, armpits, just behind her knees, and various other areas that one would never believe could sweat. It was not unwelcome, of course, considering she was use to such weather actions and had, of course, faced far worse climates than the Australian heat that was only near around ninety six today - a nice break from yesterday's one hundred sixteen.

She embraced the heat, clung to it like the miscellaneous plants and animal life that were scattered about the endless orange plains and truly, if she hadn't been out wandering the unknown territory using only a single paper map in search of her cabin destination she probably wouldn't be here. In fact, she wouldn't be here but back... She scolded herself by drawing a dry tongue against the chapped layers of her lips, it was a rule to not think about what could have been, what should have been and here she was breaking it for probably the hundredth time today; the heat must really be getting to her.

As if on cue, a bead of the sticky substance aligning her forehead slipped down yielding the crunching of her black boots as the sweat rolled into her chocolate gaze. Immediately her dusty hand reached out, knowing any attempts to ease the sudden burn from her iris would be futile. Mercifully the stinging sensation all but came and went in a matter of five seconds allowing the brunette to heave a sigh of relief. It wasn't the first time sweat had clouded her vision, but in all honesty she could really do without the perspiration that had all but gradually been eating her away for the pass five days. The first three of which had been supplied by the roar of a crimson hued jeep that raced along the stria sand of yet another desert until, the inevitable happened and the blasted thing decided to run out of gas right there in the middle of nowhere leaving her stranded with her backpack of very minimum supplies and the clothes upon her back. It should have occurred to her on the first day to check with the clerk of the store who had offered her the jeep if he had tossed in another thank of gas but her mind hadn't been in it, too distracted with thoughts of this being the last mark on her list.

She drew her forearm along her forehead, collecting the beads that had transpired as her gaze narrowed along the horizon in search of her destination and quite possibly her last. The thought was almost enough to send a warm longingly feeling coursing throughout her very sore cords, almost. Each time she had thought it was the last only to be proven wrong with yet another bit of evidence to enhance her search which lead on over to it being nine months. Nine months without orange walls, loud music, head slaps, stories, jokes that are far from hilarious, computers, or bickering...the heat was really getting to her.

An exhausted sigh drew out of the woman as she extended her hand to curve along her brows to gaze up at the cloudless azure hued sky, just barely meeting the outline of the blazing ball of fire that was the cause of such heat and such sweating. Her tongue flicked fore and aft across her lips again as her left hand reached behind towards the coyote tan backpack in search of the canteen that was half-full of refreshing liquid.

Less than a minute later the replenishing aqua trickled down her esophagus, not as rapid as she would have liked knowing it would be best to preserve when her destination could very well be empty. A few short swigs and then the top was locked back in place, the canteen following the same action as she clipped it in it's earlier position: dangling by the key clip of the backpack. She straightened the strap, eyes narrowing just the slightest as she heaved a sigh and geared her feet into action.

The trail, which was not particularly an actual trail, was flat enough allowing her pace to quicken all the more as both heart and boots matched in beat with the silence all around. She had never minded the silence, in fact it was usually a sanctuary, but every now and again it just made her feel empty. Alone. It had been her decision to be all alone, to save others the pain. To save herself the pain. To stop hurting those she actually cared for...to stop hurting him. Her eyes closed as her memory clouded with sandy tufts, sea foam eyes that occasionally evolved to a deep cyan, a wide smile that melted her insides like chocolate, and an aching kiss that left her wanting more - she had always wanted more.

Her eyes danced open just as her boot connected with a minuscule dirt caked stone that did nothing more than bounce her out of line for just a second before her stance fell back in rhyme; the perfect soldier. Strands of coffee brown slip passed her eyelashes upon the notion and she quickly reached out to straighten them behind her ear, the action as pointless as the thoughts of him. Him, who has probably moved on.

More sweat accumulated across her forehead and she paused in step to toss over her backpack in preparation for her to crouch down, knee pressed against the barren orange. The zipper was slid open and she quickly shuffled through six canteens - four empty, two full -, a pile of granola bars, several packages of powdered food, an extra map, matches, and finally the black head wrap that was quickly swiped from the bottom of the pack. She had known such an item would come in handy.

The pack was swung over her shoulders as she bowed her head, tossing her shortened curls forward. She made fast work of tying the strands in place so that the wrap would align her forehead and hold back her hair; hopefully, it would keep just a bit of the sweat from trickling down onto her olive toned cheeks.

Once more, the woman started forward keeping her eyes pointed straight ahead where, according to the map, her destination would come into view shortly. About an hour or two before the sun would start to fade in an explosion of oranges, pinks, and blues. Which would also give her some time to scourge the cabin to which she was headed towards - one she was not knowledgeable of, but that had been most of the well designed homes in various regions of the world that were scribbled onto her list. Uninhabitable homes, places no one had hardly dared to venture. Safe homes. Homes were no one would be discovered, the perfect hideaways.

Her tongue traced the corners of her mouth to gather even the slightest moisture that had long since disappeared the minute she eliminated the invigorating liquid provided by the canteen from her lips as her free hand that did not cling so roughly to the tattered paper map slipped into the folds of the cargo shorts that were caked heavily with orange dust. Orange, orange, orange. It seemed the color stood out far more than any of the others now-a-days. Perhaps it was the world's way of saying 'enough is enough stop this stupid mission'. She would, she most certainly would but the strength of doing such left her the minute a manila package was passed into her weary grip. A package that set the course of her life, a life she could never leave.

Or maybe she could, maybe this would finally be the end. This last home. Perhaps, this would be the denouement to her journey of desperation, fear, lost, longing, heartache, and all of the other emotional roller coasters that had sailed into her rocky, unstable shores for the pass three years. This could be the end. But even so, her hopes did not soar as her black boots scuffed along the desert terrain. The feelings in her heart, soul, and mind dissipated because she couldn't afford to think. Thinking had never led her to anything good, only destruction.

Heaving a sigh that exhaled and evaporated into the humid atmosphere that persisted in it's game of making her sweat beyond natural limits, nothing would make her happier than to get out of yet another trivial desert that could quite possibly scorch with more painful memories. Her lips pursed in response to such an idea, probably an invitation to the world around her to throw whatever it could spare her way. Whether it be dingoes, scorpions, snakes, terrorist, haunting family histories or whatever other critters that lived under the blazing ball of fire. As if to reassure her that she could protect her own self in such an event, her fingers drummed subconsciously along the barrel of her sig that had been embedded into her side the minute she started her journey - both the emotional and physical - for years now.

The weapon burned at her waist as the heat yet again reminded her of all she was missing, she really needed to stop. She really needed to concentrate on something else because fixing her gaze on a never ending horizon was not at all helping her state of mind. Her tongue flicked across her lips again as she bowed her head just a bit, hand jerking from her pocket to take hold of the other side to the wrinkled map. Chocolate irises absorbed every detail of the manila page that closely resembled a treasure map and was her momentary preservation with its lengthy angles, points, and an "x" that marked the spot as her boots continued to strike softly against the earthen floor.

The distraction was pleasant as she furrowed her brow trying to map out exactly how long it would take to reach her desired destination and she became so involved with connecting the dots that the memories just sort of tumbled back into their box where they have remained buried for the pass nine months on and off again. Mostly on, of course, because the pain of losing more people has long since left her hurting. The hurt she is aware of, even if she refuses to accept it. It is what it is and now it is in the past.

Her gaze narrowed just the slightest as her thumb traveled the path of a certain point where she was certain her own position was located due to the drift of the sun and the route of her travels. According to this, she should be right on it just about...now.

Chocolate irises raised up, a thin smirk claiming her features as she took in the distant speckle that only grew larger and larger with each boot in front of the other. Her skills of navigation are still intact as are all of her others. Which, of course, means the map found a home cramped into the depths of the pocket of her cargo shorts as she quickly armed herself with her trusty sig - the barrel full and ready to fire if needed. She cautiously drew her tongue along her lips as she raised her weapon and extended it forward; the act mundane but always enough to gear her heart into a rapid, anxious beat.

She is still far off from the cabin, but many years with various jobs have taught her that vigilance is the only option. What awaits her ahead is unknown territory, a trial that could very well lead her to yet another path of destruction. It could bring more death or better yet, her salvation. The irony that it greatly resembles her precarious life is not lost against the backdrop of the treading of her black boots, the orange sky, the orange desert, or her mind. She is well aware of such infliction, one she has come to terms with the second the loud roar sung it's melody of indifference followed by the symphony of tears and the aching feeling that never again would a touch mean so much.

Her thoughts drift away as the cabin meanders closer and closer to the point where she can take in all of it's features. The weathered shingles caked with dust, the tattered windows that cover in filth of having been long forgot, the outside walls that seem beaten from the heat, and the abused tank, of what is probably water. It looks abandoned, out here in the middle of the Australian desert were only few men dare tread. She is the exceptional woman.

Immediately her nerves tune in, bracing themselves for gunshots or voices. Anything and everything because she is no stranger to the unexpected especially out here where her past could very well collide in a single heart beat. She draws forward, taking great ease in her step as her chocolate gaze flutters along the small home as if waiting for the gunshot, explosion, voice, or mere whisper that will bring...bring what? Death? The thought doesn't send the same excitement as it did years past in a similar desert with different motive.

She reaches the doorway without a scratch, no bullets come flying and no bombs go off. Her bottom lip draws in as she re-positions her sig, preparing to pull open the rickety handle of the brass hued door. Her sharp breath is inhaled before being splattered out into the stuffy, humid heat as her hand comes in contact with the knob. Her heart thuds loudly, anticipation and anxiety feeling her silhouette against her desire to remain calm. She doesn't allow another thought to penetrate the acumen need to charge in head on.

Empty.

Emptiness is what welcomes her with a white flag, offering peace and recognition. No one is here. And while that should give her that extra push that things are finally done - she knows they are not because the folder wouldn't have been handed to her nor would she have forged a path of almost a years worth only to be here with nothing.

Her tongue glides her lips as she lowers her sig back encased in the band of her cargo shorts. She runs her fingers through visible tufts of coffee curls before pulling back the black head wrap, letting her hair cascade down and around her shoulders as she heaves a sigh. Of what, she is not sure but it feels comfortable to release a breath in the confides of a building and to truly mean the expulsion of carbon dioxide that has been a buildup of a long time in the making.

Her pack falls abruptly to the beaten floorboards while she takes a moment to absorb the one room with it's twin bed holding sheets that have never been used, a small kitchen set that is incarcerated with speckles of dust, the couch shrouded with a honey gold that glories in the visible rays of sunlight that sprout from the brown showered windows, and the small bathroom off to the side; equipped with not only a toilet or sink, but also a shower. She doesn't gather up her hopes about that though, no doubt the water will be churned a horrendous orange save that the tank out behind the cabin hasn't been touched by the elements.

She reaches for the pack, stumbling with muscles that suddenly ache to have just a moment of rest after two days of forcing the limbs into motion - the only rest granted then had been under the moon and even then it hadn't fulfilled such wishes of succumbing to sleep. Wearily, she lowers herself down onto the honey brown cushions, biting her lip as she sinks into it's depth of comfort.

She doesn't allow herself to wallow in such pleasantry as she pulls back the zipper and reaches for a canteen and granola bar, at just the glance of the treat her stomach had began to rumble with expectation and the reminder that the last time she had eaten had been at the crack of dawn when the sun was still just barely peeking out from its hideaway. The food was dry and gritty but filled her stomach with a rumble for more, more, more but she still hadn't checked around for supplies and their was no way she would risk a day of starvation just for a day of fill.

Once the wrapper had been crumbled and tossed back into her backpack, she reached for the canteen and drowned a good few swallows. The water rolled from the corner's of her mouth and down to her chin where it dripped off and onto her thin thighs. She would have swiped it away but it felt restoring so the notion was dismissed as she closed the canteen back into her pack with her tongue drawing a quick swipe against the sudden moisten lips.

She breathed out another sigh, stretching back with a yawn fully prepared to succumb to the sleep that had been neglected a short few months ago but she knew better. The cabin needed to be scanned first for food, water, and perhaps a possible lead. Olive toned legs stretch out before her baring the weight of ninety-five pounds with a somewhat wobbly percussion before straightening out with a steady gist as she heads directly towards the kitchen area.

The first cabinet gnaws on the inside of her cheek as she finds it to be empty and useless to serving a purpose, the second and third remain just the same. Dwindling her hopes in the process of squirming over just a step to peer into the fourth. A smile dawns her features as she takes in the glorious appearance of two cans of Lima beans and a jar of peanut butter. Not only is it a meal and a satisfactory aide but also evidence that someone has indeed inhabited these confides. Whether recently or not, she has yet to discovered but wastes little time in thinking on the matter as she gathers both components as if they are the sweetest chocolates.

They get flung towards the couch, all three landing swiftly against the cushions before she turns back to her inspection. The refrigerator creaks to life as she pushes back the dust stained door to the welcoming sight of not one nor two jugs of water, but three. Her mouth waters at the sight and she quickly takes one, tearing off the lid to drown a few good swallows of the freezing liquid. The access water is written off with a brush of her upper arm before slowly bringing the jug back into the shelter of the refrigerator, no point in taking the lifeline out for now.

She takes a moment to draw her tongue across her lips, head tilting to the side as she tries to deceiver how the fridge works way out here, far from any power lines but she decides not to dwell on it for now. Instead she turns back to her work and quickly heads towards the bathroom, hands itching feverishly to test out the water if she's lucky maybe, just maybe five days of desert heat will be able to swirl down a drain.

It's a tight squeeze between the toilet and shower, but luckily she is just the right fit to maneuver towards the obstacle and twist the knob. Orange. Orange murky water sprays from the shower head and she groans inwardly before twisting the knob back with a soured expression. So a shower wouldn't be in her favor, but at least she had something to eat besides the gritty bars and more water to quench her thirst long enough to get her back to the market place. She makes a mental note to later check for a tank of gas before she emerges out of the bathroom and starts for the bed; another destination she has been racing to scan.

The mattress is still intact, save for the dusty fumes that explode from it the minute she uses her hand to test the structure. But all is well, she has a bed for the night and maybe two if she decides to allow herself such a luxury. She yawns at the thought, her chocolate gaze drooping just the slightest as the weight of the last couple of months finally marks it's toll. Sleep right now, is a prize. A gift, that she would greatly accept but it has not been given in months and she suddenly dreads the time when darkness falls because it will draw on like all of the others: wide awake, staring at the ceiling and a feeling that none of this is right.

Her fingers strike through her curls, pushing them back on top of her forehead as she releases a sigh because she still has another good hour of sunlight and as much as she would like to just fade into the world of relaxation, her mission has not been foreclosed. She shakes the exhaustion away, a simple struggle in itself, before running her fingers along the walls. Her eyes take in every corner, every inch trying to find the emblem of her desire before the sun falls back into its hideaway.

Just as the sun settles, giving off just one thin line of light, her finger lands on five carves embedded in the farthest corner of the cabin. Her heart beat kicks up a notch, her olive toned finger tracing the marks with ease and precaution. This is it, her search. This is what she has come all of this way for, an inscription in the drywall caked with dust as the many inscriptions before were. She wants to deny its presence, its very existence to be shunned because the curves are not just simply curves but the fuel that ignites the gears in her mind. This isn't the end of her mission nor will the next stop be or the next stop because the inscriptions are simply new destinations, new travels that help fuel to the possibility of Eli David being alive.

As I mentioned earlier do let me know if I should continue or not. In the meantime I wish you a pleasant day.