"I'll follow the lights… until I make it back to you tonight…"

He was speeding down the highway, not paying attention to the snow swirling around him, or the swiping of the windshield wipers, or even the buzzing hum of static among the sporadic bursts of music from the broken radio. It was a few weeks before Christmas, and he hadn't seen her in four years.

And yet, according to the doctor he'd spoken to, he was her emergency contact, even after all this time.

He had thought she was dead. His gut had told him she was dead, and though his heart had hoped, his gut was so rarely wrong. He had been driving for four hours already, glancing at the clock ever so often, praying and hoping that she would still be at the hospital when he arrived. She had never been very patient, and he wouldn't put it past her to just leave the hospital without him, climbing out a window if necessary. Whether or not she was bleeding to death didn't matter to her, he was sure, but he could only hope that she would notice how severe her injuries were and not abscond into the night instead of standing and facing him.

He had gone, looking for answers, only coming Stateside again at a friend's request. His cell phone had rang, and it had sent him hurtling back out into the night, going from one hospital to another. And he still, even after four hours, couldn't decide exactly why he had thrown himself back into the life he had left behind.

His phone rang from the passenger seat, and he didn't even bother glancing at it, knowing that whoever it was would either call back or persist. He was somewhat tempted to throw his cell phone out of the window, just so that he could escape the questions, the concerns. Though Tim's eyes had been full of hope when Tony had told him of the phone call, Tony couldn't let him join him on the road trip. Tim hadn't slept in hours, and there was someone who needed him more than Tony.

He had taken him aside, took him by the shoulders, and said, "It's okay, Tim. You gotta stay here."

Tim had nodded, "I know. Bring her home, will you?"

"I'll try. She may not even want to see me."

"She will."

"What do I say to her?"

"Just talk," Tim said, looking back into the hospital room with a proud glow in his face.

And now, here he was, no more sure of what he was going to say than he had been when he'd left Tim standing in that hallway, heading for the unknown and the shaky ground of his former relationship. The last time he had seen her, they had had, as he put it, a "very fond farewell."

The fond farewell, he reflected wryly, that had left him with a toddler and a new life in Paris, leaving behind everything he'd ever known in favor of trying to find answers.

And now, he was here. He stopped in front of the closed door to the hospital room, trying to brace himself for confronting his past. HIs past had a habit of coming back to haunt him. All he had to do was reach for the knob, and open the door.

"Hardest 180 of my life."

"I loved her Tim," and God help him, he still did. No past tense.

He wondered for a second what Gibbs would do if he was here. He wouldn't hesitate. He would never hesitate; if it had been his wife, he would have been through the door already. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

Whatever witty remark he'd been preparing died on his lips, as he stood there for a second, taking her in.

She was standing at the window, her back to him, and as he looked her over, he noticed with relief that she was perfectly safe, all limbs intact.

"Hello, Tony." Her voice was soft, almost reverent as she turned around, revealing a bandaged arm, crossed across the other one.

"Ziva. You're alive."

"Tony, I am sorry. I did not even know you were here."

"In the States? I've only been here for about a week."

"Why did you come back?" she asked.

"Why did you?"

"I had my reasons."

"You're pretty hard to kill then, aren't you?"

Hurt flashed in her eyes, replaced with sadness. "I am sorry."

"Easy to say, just apologize for letting me think you were dead. For letting us think you were dead." His voice cracked.

"Why did you come back?" she pressed, walking over. He could see a faded scar down one forearm, and it looked like an old burn; from the farmhouse maybe? It had been a year and a half since her "death" in a terrible fire.

"I came for Tim. He needed me."

She looked away, "You resigned from NCIS, and yet you are back."

"Ziva, I was friends with Tim for thirteen years. Of course I'm coming back when he needs me. That's what family does for each other."

"Why did he need you? Is he okay?"

"You know what, I'm not here to talk about McGee. But I will gladly get you in the car, and you can come back with me; see him yourself."

"The team wouldn't want to see me."

"What do you mean? They thought you were dead, Ziva! Why wouldn't they want to see you?"

"Did you want to see me? Are you not angry?"

"Well, frankly, yes I'm pissed off! It's taking everything in me to not lose it on you! But you're also alive, and I can't believe it, I never thought… but you're still our family. We mourned you, Ziva. All of us."

"All of you?" she asked, looking over, arms crossed. His heart nearly melted, but his anger wasn't forgotten.

"Look, Ziva, just come back with me."

"I don't want to endanger you. Or Tali. You aren't supposed to get involved."

He stepped towards her, his hands curling into fists. "You involved both of us when you checked in under your real name, so don't lie to me Ziva."

"I thought I would never see you again."

"Well congratulations," he said bitterly, "You almost succeeded."

"You moved to Paris. You were far away, where no one could hurt you."

"What does it matter, Ziva? I'm here now. And you… look just come home with me."

His phone buzzed, and he checked, hoping it wouldn't be Gibbs, telling him to come back. Instead it was just five messages from Abby. Most of them had photos attached. He smiled to himself, looking at her last text.

ABBY: Did you like my last picture of Delilah and Tim? They both just fell asleep and looked so cute I couldn't resist!

Indeed, the attached picture was the two of them crammed into a hospital bed, Delilah's head on Tim's shoulder, and his head resting on hers, their hands linked on top of the standard issue hospital blankets. He remembered where he was, sliding his phone back into his pocket, and staring at Ziva.

"Please, Zi, just come home."

"Home?" she asked.

"To your family," he amended. "I already signed the papers, you can come home with me. You still need care of a doctor, but Ducky can take care of you. Better than I can." He laughed nervously. "I had to talk all of them out of coming with me. Tim was so eager, he practically stole my car himself. But I wouldn't let him come."

Ziva was puzzled, "Why not?"

"Because his wife needs him more."

"His wife?" Her eyes went wide, and it was a horrible reminder of how much she had missed. She was pale, making the dark circles under her eyes all the more noticeable. When was the last time she had slept?

"Delilah, works at the Department of Defence, smart, funny… everything Tim needed."

"I… I didn't know."

"Since you're coming with me, you'll get a chance to meet her."

"Is that why you're home, Tony? McGee's wedding?"

"Wh- oh no. No, their wedding was in May… I missed it."

"You missed Tim's wedding?" Her eyebrows went up of their own accord. "Why?"

"Because I didn't know about it."

"You did not know that Tim was getting married?"

"I knew they were getting married, he called and told me. That isn't-," he sighed. "Ziva, things are a bit complicated… the way things turned out. Look, I'll explain to you in the car. Let's go. We have four hours to discuss what happened in the last four years. And what'll happen next. I happen to know a toddler who will be very happy to see you."

"And you? Are you happy to see me?" she asked, taking his hand.

"Unfortunately for both of us, yes."

She had slept for about two hours, as he had gone over everything major that she had missed; he had resigned, Jimmy had a daughter named Victoria, Gibbs got shot twice but survived…

And now, they were pulling into the hospital parking lot, and she was staring at him as he killed the engine.

"Why haven't you said anything about McGee since we got in the car?"

"I'm not sure I can talk about McGroom with any authority anymore, since I left," he admitted.

"Why are we at the hospital? Is McGee all right? His wife?"

"Don't miss much, do you Zi? Tim is fine. His wife is in the hospital, that's all."

"Why haven't you told me anything about his wife?"

"I told you. Smart, funny, works for the DoD."

"Those are statistics, Tony."

"What do you want, her dreams for the future and her zodiac sign?" he asked.

She reached over and touched his hand, "Please Tony."

"Delilah and Tim started dating before you left."

"And?"

"Delilah… she's a genius, perfect for our Timothy. Won a big award in counter-terrorism." He closed his eyes, remembering. "All of the big brains in counter-terrorism, gathered in one building. Something had to go wrong, of course."

"What happened?"

"A drone strike. Hit the hotel where the gala was. McGee was outside when it happened, a few cuts and bruises."

She understood. "And Delilah?"

"She was lucky to survive, the doctors all said so. But her legs were paralyzed."

"McGee's wife is in a wheelchair?"

"Yeah."

"How… terrible for both of them to have to go through that."

"I dunno, Zi. Made their relationship stronger in the end. Probably why it survived."

"What did it need to survive after that? A terrorist attack is not enough?"

"Delilah's really smart, I told you… and she went back to work after the attack on the gala. And eventually… when our Timmy was about to ask her to move in… she took a job in Dubai. They lived apart, kept a long distance relationship going when so many others couldn't."

She understood the jab, even if she chose to ignore it. "And they got married?"

"Yeah he proposed after I left, but according to him, I was one of the first people he called. But then in May, when they were still planning their wedding, Delilah… collapsed."

"I do not understand. Was she sick?"

"No, no she wasn't, it was just a fainting spell. But they got married pretty quickly after that. Probably didn't want to waste any more time. Now c'mon, there are people who want to see you, and I'm tired of talking about the long and twisting relationship of Tim and Delilah. You can meet her yourself."

He sent a quick text to Abby, telling them that they were there.

ABBY: Okay, I'm going to go grab Delilah and Tim some hot chocolate. Grab you some too?

Ziva followed him into the elevator, as he walked the familiar path he had travelled every day for the last three days.

The elevator door opened, and he stepped out first, looking around to make sure that Abby wasn't there, that she was indeed downstairs getting the hot chocolate. They had probably just missed her.

Ziva asked him a question, but he wasn't answering. "Wait here," he said quietly to her.

She nodded, and he headed down the hall to room 424, knocking lightly on the doorframe. Tim and Delilah both turned to stare, as did Gibbs, who was watching over them.

"Well?" Tim asked, suddenly frantic.

"She's here, Tim. I got her." There was a sudden bolt of pain through his heart, as he realized exactly what had occurred. It still had not sunk in that she was not dead, she was in fact perfectly alive. He cleared his throat, awkwardly. "Where's Tali?"

"Ducky took her home a couple of hours ago, so that she could get some rest. He'll keep an eye on her, and bring her back tomorrow."

"And Bishop?"

Delilah smiled, "She went to our place to grab us some clean clothes."

"Why?" Tony asked. "Hospital wear is all the rage right now."

She rolled her eyes, "Now I know why Tim missed you, Tony."

"My sparkling wit?"

"Exactly that," Tim was quieter than his wife, but preoccupied.

"Can she come in?" he asked.

"If she's ready," Gibbs said from the corner, where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching.

Tony went back out into the hallway, finding Ziva in what passed for a waiting room. "Hey, Zi, the team wants to see you."

"The team?" she asked, confused.

"Well," he amended his statement, "Not the team… Delilah, Tim, and Gibbs."

"Oh, I see."

"Go on," he sent her ahead.

Ziva walked down the hallway, and into room 424, stopping dead at the sight. Gibbs had stood up from his position against the wall the instant she walked in.

Delilah and Tim were curled up together on the hospital bed, their own baby girl- only two days old- in Tim's arms. Tim was smiling down at her, Delilah's hand protectively on his arm. He looked up, and smiled at Ziva, a different smile than she'd ever seen on his face. There was reminiscence, and pride, and not a bit of yearning.

"How's McJunior, Tim?" he asked.

"She's good." Tim smiled over at Ziva, "Hey Ziva."

"Tim." Her voice died in her throat, and she was unable to even apologize. How could she apologize for missing so much? Here he was, married, a father, and what did she have to show for her years away? A faked death and a life in the shadows. "You have a daughter."

He looked back at his wife with such adoration that it caused the ice coating Ziva's heart to crack, "No," he corrected gently. "We have a daughter. Ziva, this is my wife, Delilah Fielding McGee. Delilah, this is-,"

"Ziva," Delilah smiled at her, looking exhausted but absurdly pleased with herself. "I've heard so much about you."

"All good things, I hope."

"Yes, all good things."

Tim turned to Tony, "Do you want to hold your niece again, Tony?"

"No, I'm okay, McPapa. Why don't you let Grandpa Gibbs over there hold her again?"

"Because if I do, then Abby'll pop up and demand she get another picture," Gibbs retorted, but he was already moving to take the baby from Tim, smiling down at her.

There was suddenly a gasp from the doorway, and they all turned to see Abby, standing there with two cups of hot chocolate.

"Ziva," she said, and Ziva could see that her hands were trembling.

"Here, Abs," Tony took the hot chocolate, "Now that the McParents have a free hand each," he said, narrowing his eyes at Tim and Delilah, who were holding hands.

Delilah shrugged, "Seriously, Tony? Nicknames?"

"You're a McGee now, Delilah, wear it with pride."

She turned to Tim, half smiling, "Oh I do."

"Aw, jeez, get a room." Tony cut in.

I'd like to see you have a baby, Tony, and then try and tell me what to do with myself, you-,"

"Ah, watch it. Little ears," Tony gestured at the baby, who was at the moment sleeping.

Abby walked over hesitantly, wrapping Ziva in a hug. And then she let go. "Uh… welcome home. I guess. I thought you were dead."

"As we both can see, I am not."

Abby turned to McGee, "How's she doing?"

"Fine, Abby. She's apparently got a great set of lungs."

"To match her father's," Delilah said with a slight smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tim asked, pretending to be offended.

"Nothing, honey. Just… you can be intimidating when you want to be."

Ziva shifted from foot to foot, uncertain of where she fit in this new setting, until Gibbs stood up, walked over, and handed her the baby. "Here, Ziver."

"I do not think I should-," she stopped, the room going silent as the little girl opened her eyes. She blinked up at Ziva for a second, and then yawned.

"All the adoring family apparently wore little peanut out."

"You're gonna have to pick a name eventually, Tim," Gibbs warned. "Can't call her peanut forever."

Tim smiled at him, exchanging a look with his wife. "She will always be my little peanut."

Ziva was quiet, holding Tim and Delilah's future in her arms, remembering the feeling of holding Tali for the first time. The promise of something bigger, of something better.

Her return was like parenting. Leaping into the unknown for the promise of something better.

The team was always going to be her home, and this was her something better. All she had had to do was follow the lights home.