The dream started as it always did. She was 14 and he was 18. He was about to leave for medical school in Scotland and it was the last time they were to meet before his flight. He was telling her that he would always be just a phone call away, and that they would write each other constantly. He smiled at her and told her not to worry. She would hardly know he was gone. And then, as often happens in dreams, something shifted. Suddenly she was filled with rage and there was a gun in her hand. He looked so surprised, so hurt and she just shot him again and again and again…
Ziva woke up with a start. For a second, relief came with the realization that it was just a dream, and then she remembered the truth. She did shot Ari. It wasn't the same Ari as in the dream, or the same Ziva for that matter, but the basic truth was there: He was gone and she had killed him.
It had happened four months and twenty three days ago and on almost every night since, she has had the exact same dream and woke with the exact same start. Sometimes it woke her up at around 4 or 5 AM allowing her a reasonable night's sleep. On other nights, like this one, she found herself awake at 1:30 AM, with no possibility of going back to sleep. What she wanted to do most was to go to the NCIS building and let the work distract her. However, she knew that if she were to do that she would have Gibbs on her in minutes. He couldn't let one of his agents go without sleep. She was surprised he hadn't called her up on it as is. She had therefore spent countless nights walking around in the streets surrounding her apartment building, almost hoping that some pervert or mugger would be stupid enough to try and attack her. On other nights she cleaned her apartment, cooked food that she could eat for the rest of the week, read countless books, or wrote empty, meaningless letters to her family and friends in Israel. Often she found herself staring at the picture of her and Ari that she had hanging on the wall. The picture was taken on the day that featured in her dream. It was the last time she saw Ari before he changed into the soulless man she had shot.
It was cold outside and it was raining, so a walk was out of the question. She hadn't had time to go to the library and she had very little to read, and even by the anal retentive standards of her father, her apartment was spotless. She therefore decided to spend the night cooking. She generally found that when cooking in the middle of the night, working from a recipe was too much of a bother. For that reason she usually found herself cooking the dishes her grandmother had taught her to make when she was little. This time she decided to cook Cholent. Her grandmother would have been appalled: Making Cholent in the middle of the week, without the entire family to enjoy it, was just wrong. However, it was the perfect dish to make when you had all kinds of left over pieces of meat and chicken in the freezer and it required a lot of time but very little concentration to prepare. Every Israeli family had a different recipe for Cholent and every time you ate it, it tasted a little different. The best version was the one you ate with your family on wintry Saturday afternoons. The worst was the military Cholent, which in some army bases, she was posted in, could have been classified as a biological form of warfare, that for some reason the army cooks felt the need to test on their own troops. She knew that the Cholent she made that night, would fall somewhere in between. She was a good cook, and it was a cold winter night, but without family to share it, and with it being the middle of the week, something would definitely be missing.
She spent the night cooking and was relieved to find out that by the time the Cholent was ready to be put on the hot-plate it was late enough to start getting ready for work.
The reminder of the day had passed without much incident, which was fortunate considering her state of tiredness. Tony went on and on about his mud-wrestling tickets. Apparently, a friend of his from college wanted to take his girlfriend, but she put her foot down and the tickets were passed on to Tony. Tony spent a good portion of the morning trying to convince Ziva to go with him: "You're the one who's always saying she wants to learn more about American culture", was one of his better arguments. Somehow Ziva thought that watching two badly trained women fighting in a ring, more than half naked and covered in mud didn't seem like a very good way to study any type of culture. It also wasn't Ziva's idea of a fun way of spending an evening. After Ziva made it clear for the hundredth time that there was no way in hell she was going with Tony, he finally offered the second ticket to another friend of his.
At the end of the day, Tony said his goodbyes and asked Ziva whether she was sure she didn't want to come. "I'm sure I can still get you a ticket. In fact I'm rather sure if you dress right, you could get in for free", He said, wiggling his eyebrows. "I'm afraid my answer stands", replied Ziva, dryly.
As Tony was leaving, Ziva heard McGee ask him whether he managed to convince her to go with him. Tony replied that he didn't and that Ziva must have some previous plans. This got Ziva thinking of her lack of plans and of the Cholent simmering away in her apartment. By the time she got home it would be ready, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do with it. She now realized that eating Cholent, by herself would constitute hitting a new type of low. "Is everything OK?" McGee asked. He was standing in front of her desk, looking rather worried. "Ah, yes McGee, everything is fine, I just remembered that I have a bit of Cholent problem". "A Cholent problem…" repeated a confused McGee.

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Three hours later, Ziva was standing alone on the roof of her apartment building, holding a glass of the red wine that McGee had thoughtfully brought over. Ziva's small apartment was filled with people. She was rather surprised at how quickly she and McGee had managed to arrange this spontaneous gathering. Other than Tony who was busy watching mud covered babes, Jen who had a date and Ducky who, according to Palmer, also had previous plans, Ziva and McGee managed to get hold of most of the people they knew at NCIS. She was pleasantly surprised that Abby agreed to come, and relieved that she had made it to her apartment in time to remove Ari's picture from the wall before her guests arrived.
While everyone around her seemed to be enjoying the Cholent, she found that she couldn't bring herself to eat any of it. Cholent was meant to be eaten on a Saturday afternoon with your family. It was Wednesday evening and even though she was surrounded by people she felt very much alone. Over four months of lack of sleep, of guilt, self-loathing and doubt were taking their toal, and she felt that she would have to do something about it soon, because she could see the edge approaching fast. Everyone around her was enjoying themselves, laughing and chatting and the last thing she wanted was to ruin their fun, or to let McGee notice that something was wrong.
And so she found herself standing on the roof, trying to stargaze through the heavy clouds that covered the sky. "It's about to rain, you know". Only her training stopped her from giving a startled jump as the only man who had the ability to sneak up on her, other than her father, suddenly appeared behind her. "I didn't expect you to come, Gibbs" She told him. "This Cholent is rather good, Ziva. The way I understand it, it takes a rather long time to cook though, doesn't it? When did you start?" Gibbs had a plate in his hand and was taking occasional bites. As their eyes met, Ziva was filled with a strange sense of relief. She knew that he could see right through her and that he wasn't going to let it all just slide. She didn't need to run away anymore. He was the one man she could talk to about Ari, and he was about to make her talk. "I think it's time we talked Officer David, don't you?" "I think that might be a good idea, Gibbs", said Ziva, feeling, for the first time in over four months, that maybe she wasn't entirely alone after all.