Who:Booth, Ziva, and some demons! What:Character death and possession. When:Tonight! Where:The streets and then the complex. Warnings:A for angst and D for death! STATUS:Complete!
[ooc note!: Dead Ziva is dead, people probably would have heard a gunshot near the carpark.]
The city was under attack. Booth had a sense of duty even with the FBI under siege that would not allow him to just stay inside and ignore the threat. He needed to make sure people had evacuated, it was also the military man inside him that wouldn’t just allow him to do nothing. He knew people were getting antsy, and when that happened drama usually exploded. He didn’t have time to pay attention to it. People were just stressed, it would blow over in time. It always did and then they’d pull together when it counted.
His rifle sat in the front seat between the passenger and driver console. It was loaded with silver bullets thanks to Bobby and his supplies. This wasn’t his first round of Kansas crazy. He was prepared and armed with several weapons, holy water, the works, and a partner that wouldn’t let him alone. He couldn’t help but look at her with a certain warmth and put his hands on the wheel. “You didn’t have to come.” The new crossover obviously wasn’t as customized and comfortable as his previous, but that one had exploded into a million tiny little pieces.
Driving through the streets was eerie, but Booth didn’t want to risk it on foot. Who knew what was out there, waiting. Zombies attacked Kat’s place, Seeley wanted to check on the situation but he needed gas. His car was nearing empty.
Ziva was thankful for the distraction. She was thankful to be doing something useful in all of this mess instead of sitting around and watching people bicker and selectively read what they wished to in order to start a fight. Really, it made her want to shoot her computer, which probably wouldn’t be the best of ideas at the moment. So the opportunity to help people in need was a relief. She was angry with Jenny for being irrational and refusing to listen yet again and really wished that Gibbs were there to talk sense into the idiotic woman who was once Director and once friend.
Given the situation at hand, Ziva wasn’t that talkative. There were things to be on the look for. People to ensure had gotten to safety and helping those who hadn’t. Warzones were nothing new to the Israeli woman, they were familiar in a way they shouldn’t be, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. To see the death and destruction. And all because of what? A petulant man child angel throwing a fit? Really, it was ridiculous. But it was the same act as terrorists, an ideal, and death was the cost.
“You are my partner, why are we talking about it?”
The question was spoken as Ziva shot her partner a look. Really, they had been through this before. Yes. Tony was her partner back home and yes, she would go on missions with him here as she had while Booth had been in South Dakota, but that did not change the fact that Booth was also her partner and you did not leave your partner to face things like this on their own. Always have your partner’s back. Rule # 1, never screw over your partner. That was Gibb’s rule one, Tony’s had been don’t sit on the sidelines while your people are in trouble. Both were valid and both were true.
Booth did miss Bones at times, but then things like this happened and he was happy she was home. She would try to handle things logically and that’s just not how it worked in Kansas more than half of the time. Warzones were also not new to Booth as a soldier. The destruction and deaths hadn’t phased him much beyond feeling sorry for those affected. It was a war however, death happened. They needed to continue on if they hoped to survive. Especially in this type of war. Demons picked on the weak. The strong were going to survive, Booth was determined to make sure the complex was that strong place. If they tore eachother apart from the inside they didn’t stand a chance.
He’d seen them through worse, and he would do it again. The streets were very nearly silent as they drove through the city and Booth mostly kept his eyes out for any stray civilians. Most of the smart ones had evacuated but there were always those who thought to stay behind and try to save their home. Those were the ones Booth was looking for. Then there was also the looters. If he found any looters during this mess, he might not regret shooting them. That thought scared him a little. He should regret it.
Ever since the nightmares had taken a hold on his mind he could feel himself slipping away. Most of the time it wasn’t all that noticeable, just minor things. But he had to hold onto those minor things. Those were what made him human. He put a little more pressure on the gas and nodded at Ziva. “Yeah. This is just..not exactly what we were trained for.” But they were trained, more than others perhaps. Booth just shook his head and looked to the road ahead. In the distance he saw it. A lone figure walking the road, seeming unphased by the destruction that had plagued the streets.
If there had been one thing that had kept Ziva alive in Somalia, it had been holding onto the memories of something else, something better. Saleem had tried to destroy her, break her, and while he had broken her body, she had managed to survive. True it was because the team came to avenge her, but in the end, that was what kept her going. So while she didn’t exactly know about the nightmares, she could understand the need to hold onto something.
The comment about how it wasn’t exactly what they were used to caused Ziva to laugh slightly before shaking her head some.
“No, but you also learn to adapt with our training. So while this is not exactly what we were trained for, we can make it work.”
Which was what mattered. The training, the army, marines, FBI and Mossad and NCIS, the interrogation and fighting. But then there was the lone figure ahead, completely calm. Too calm. Ziva didn’t like it. Eyes narrowing, the agent’s hand moved to the rock salt gun she had with her.
“I don’t like it.”
She knew Booth would know what she was referencing, because in a town like this at a time like this, calm was a warning sign.
The figure didn’t run, didn’t spook, and didn’t even seem phased by the sound of the vehicle behind it. The crossover wasn’t exactly silent. It’s engine rumbled in protest at the gas being left so low. The figure ahead was human, or at least appeared to be. A man in his early twenties, back turned to the car, feet stepping over debris like it did not even exist. A glance at Ziva told her that he did not like it either. In the back of his mind Booth knew that following this man was a bad idea, but if someone needed help then he was duty bound to offer it.
He continued to drive forward, the man stopped and turned. Disappearing down a side street, and Booth raised an eyebrow. “What the hell was that..? Most of the civilians are gone right? We’ve been checking..” He rubbed his face in confusion and turned down the side street the man had seemingly disappeared down. Silence.
Deafening silence until the third alley where he heard it. A woman’s scuffle against a demon threatening to possess her. Not just one, a pack of them against a terrified civilian. Or at least, what appeared to be. Booth grabbed his gun and got out of the crossover. “Hey! Let her go!” He fired off a warning shot, several of the shadowed figures turned to face them eyes black.
The second the figure disappeared down a side street, Ziva was ready to move. Because Booth was right. They’d been checking and most of the civilians were gone. There were zombies and creatures people couldn’t explain. The displaced were stuck but with two deaths and the possessions.... it was to the point where even the natives with no idea on what was going on knew to evacuate for the most part.
The fact that there was a pack of them was annoying. Most would find it daunting and this wasn’t one of those situations where a challenge was exactly wanted in terms of numbers, but Ziva also knew better than to let the odds weigh her down. That was when you lost focus, faltered. Expected to fail and so you did. So as Booth shot his warning shot, Ziva had been moving against the wall slowly to get to the victim.
And black eyes. Marvelous. She’d keep the two knives she kept on her person as a last resort. No need to lose the weapons and have them used against them in the process. But they also needed a plan. Calling for backup would take too long, who knew where others were. They needed a strategy and they needed one now.
Times like these, she really hated the fact that the host body would be hurt and yet not the demon. Things had to be done so as to avoid injuring them as much as possible while exorcising the demons.
“How do you want to do this.”
The question was low, Ziva’s gaze never wavering from the pack of demons before them, eyeing where the non lethal shots could be taken on each one.
Sometimes the way Ziva worked was almost like he didn’t have to explain anything at all, so when she did actually have questions he was mildly surprised. Mildly still though considering it was an apocalypse. Little surprised him anymore, even being sent back for a third round of seal crazy. “Fast.” Was all he said at first. Then he looked at the terror struck victim who was covered in blood and crying. “Distract them, then we get her to the car.” The girl on the ground was trying to shield her face from view. Booth didn’t think twice about it, he shot one demon point blank range with a rock salt gun and it gasped as if in pain, stumbling back.
Kicking a second demon into two others, he managed to clear a path to the victim and reached out to grab her arm. “We’re here to help.” As Booth made contact with the girl for a split second her eyes turned blood red. Her fingernails dug straight into Booth’s arm drawing blood as he tried to pull her up, during the struggle the amulet he wore was torn from his neck from movement behind him, and fell silently amongst the chaos to the ground. He didn’t have time to react or notice, he didn’t even see it coming from the victim he’d been trying so hard to help. Black smoke billowed out of her and straight into him sending a chill down his spine. The victim’s grip loosened and she fell back to the ground like a rag doll. For a moment Booth staggered as the demon inside fought for control while the others swarmed them.
Fast. A distraction. Well, that worked. Nodding, Ziva rushed forward, shooting strategically at the demons she was meant to distract. Which, okay, all of them. But she knew better than to let that get to her so all Ziva did was focus on the distracting, shooting as necessary, dodging and leading them to fight within themselves.
With Booth going to the victim, Ziva ended up flung on the ground but she quickly turned onto her back, shooting up at the demon who had gone to attack her. The host body would be injured, but not dead. And neither would Ziva. She knew it was a risk, any situation like this left risk of death, but she wasn’t calculating those odds. Just survival. And stabbing another demon in the shin with one of her knives before standing up.
Had she been paying attention, perhaps she would have seen the smoke swarm Booth, would have realized it had been a ploy. But adrenaline was pumping and there were still demons to deal with. Angry demons. Oh, that was fun. Cursing in Hebrew under her breath, Ziva slowly backed up to where Booth was, standing in front of the victim. Okay. How to do this.
Shoulder shot. That seemed her best option. Booth would follow her lead. She didn’t need guidance often, but when it came to demons? She did like the initial direction before she figured out the situation. It was just how they worked. And if necessary, tackling would also work.
tThe demons were strong and fast. When they attacked it was with power and speed faster then the eye could process. They could throw anyone with a simple thought, destroy minds and lives with out remorse. Booth struggled against the black smoke threatening to swallow him whole. He fought internally as hard and loud as he could. He tried to yell at Ziva to no avail. The demon had already drowned out his voice and ignored his pathetic attempts to free himself from it’s grasp.
Blood trailed down his arm and for a moment the demon stared at it in amusement before grabbing at a demon near by and shooting it point blank through the chest. Booth’s eyes for a single moment turned the very same blood red color the victim’s had been, the crossroad demon had tricked them. Smirked for a moment as he watched the Israeli ninja. Then it faded as he demon copied Booth’s actions the best he could. “The victim’s dead. Probably before we got here. Sick bastards.” He mock glowered as his eyes returned to Booth’s normal hazel. “There’s too many. Lets get out of here.”
The demon had been following them for days, learning about their routes, watching them. Waiting for the right opportunity to bring his boss the FBI Agent’s soul. Crowley was going to be pleased. He would earn extra points with the boss. Who knew where those could lead him.
If she really let herself think about it, things didn’t add up. The heckling to possess the girl only for her to be dead. And if Gibbs knew she wasn’t following her thoughts on that, she’d have earned a Gibbs slap upright the head. But there was too much going on, she was poised on the balls of her feet and ready to move as necessary, taking in what she needed to survive but not the entire picture. She needed a clearer head for that, needed to focus and she couldn’t do that right now.
But ‘Booth’ was right. There were too many of them and she had already known they couldn’t wait for backup if they were to call it. So retreating was the only answer. It wasn’t exactly one she liked but it was a loss they had to cut.
Making sure to cover the both of them as they made their way back to the car, Ziva fired a warning shot as one of the demons moved forward, quickly getting into the car and reloading her gun just in case.
The demon possessing Booth slid into the driver side of the car and got comfortable for a minute, buckling himself in before turning to Ziva. “Buckle up.” As if everything else hadn’t happened and they were simply going for a ride. As far as she knew they were. They were driving back toward the complex. Booth was silent, there was no usual chatter he attempted to engage in during car rides, and no further comments on their performance. The demon was too pleased. Crowley was probably going to throw a party in his honor. He’d bring him Booth’s soul, and earn his place by the Crossroad King’s side.
The only noise that filled the car was the soft sound of classic rock playing over the radio that Booth usually silenced. He had respect for his job, respect for what the city was going through. Extra noise pollution didn’t make things better or easier for anyone. This time however Booth did not. He hadn’t paid attention to the nail wounds, barely even flinched as he turned the wheel with the injured arm toward the complex.
Thanks to his surprisingly erratic driving skills the ride back didn’t take long even leaving demons in their wake. The car pulled up to the curb of the sidewalk near the complex and he put it in park. He didn’t look back to see if any had followed, not once did he check.
Gun reloaded, Ziva’s heart rate had slowed back to normal, idly fiddling with her Star of David necklace. The adrenaline was wearing off, and that allowed her to take stock her her surroundings, to notice anything that was out of the ordinary. The nagging feeling she had back at the demon site was continuing to bother her. That was the first sign that something was off.
Then there was the silence. Difficult cases, sure, they didn’t talk much. But Booth was calm. Too calm. It unnerved her, though she didn’t show it. Instead she watched him through her peripheral vision. Times like this and the radio would have been silenced.
Rule 8. Never take anything for granted. Don’t assume. The calm and silence could be seen as meditative state, as regrouping. But this was not part of the routine. Which led to Rule 36, if you feel you are being played, you probably are. Now, Booth wouldn’t play Ziva, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others who would. Who would play him. Turning her gaze to her partner, Ziva eyed him critically, looking for any sign to give her an answer. Rule 39 and Rule 40 were blending together, no such thing as coincidence and if someone seemed out to get you, they probably were.
Getting into the forties was bad, those were the rules for emergencies. But putting those rules to use while taking in the situation she found herself in? Ziva was more than slightly on edge. Gibbs’ rules were meant to keep you alive. It was why she was so mad at the Director. She broke the rules and she had died. And Ziva’s senses were on high alert as they pulled into the complex.
“You are rather calm all things considered.”
As they pulled in and Booth killed the ignition he looked at her for a moment. Anyone who knew Booth knew he wasn’t one for meditative states or zen. He had a temper, he was driven by emotion. Whatever this state was, was definitely not emotional. It was as if someone had turned him off and he had gone into autopilot. “Why shouldn’t I be? We got away. We’re in one piece.” Deep inside Booth was muttering some sort of bible phrase that almost made the demon laugh, but it kept it’s composure none the less.
It was going to get Crowley’s attention. All eyes were turned on the complex, it was going to make sure Crowley enjoyed the show and knew who was in the meatsuit. The demon was going to get it’s reward one way or another and the best way to accomplish that was to put on a show.
The demon pulled the keys out of the car and into his pocket, gun left inside as he exited the car. “You go on ahead I’ve got something to check on.” Normally he would have made sure Ziva got inside, but he had one goal. Get to the top of the complex. Thanks to Booth and his memories of the building he knew all about the fire escape that lead up to the roof and he intended to get there.
Ziva’s eyes narrowed at the response.
“Yes. We did. But things are not adding up and you are acting off.”
There was survival, but there was also the survival of your partner. Yes, Ziva was more used to teams, but she had adapted to the two partner thing, and that meant she knew Booth. She had his back. And she knew when he was not being himself. Just as she had the year previous when he had attacked people because of the alternate Sam messing with him. She had ensured that Abby was in charge of the forensics so that nothing pointed to him because he hadn’t been himself. Just like he wasn’t now.
Getting out of the car as well, the Israeli agent quirked a brow. Definitely not acting like himself. A situation like that and Booth would walk in with her.
“Christo.”
It was said out of nowhere. No lead in, nothing. But Ziva had her suspicions and she was going to find a way to save Booth if her fears were confirmed.
“..What don’t you trust me? I’m your partner. We always trust our partners.” He stared at her, trying to come up with the most sincere look he could. Then she ruined it. Annoying how much damage one little word could cause. Booth barely flinched, but it was there. “Ziva, Ziva, Ziva.” He taunted and as he looked back up at her his eyes had become a deep inhuman blood red. “Lack of faith puts you on the path to hell. Or something like that.” Without a single ounce of emotion, the demon pulled Booth’s gun and pulled the trigger. Weapon point blank at her heart.
“You should have just let me go. Then it wouldn’t have had to be this way you know.” He stared into her eyes and reached for the necklace she’d been fiddling with yanking it off her throat and pocketing it.
“Now I’m messy. I liked the meatsuits jacket and it’s all ruined.” Blood had splattered against the brown sport coat Booth favored. “I’m sure someone will find you eventually.”
Oh, she trusted Booth because she knew Booth. Which was why she had to ask. Why she had Christo’d him. He had tried to act all offended, but Booth? The real Booth that is, he would have known< exactly why she had questioned him in the first place. There might have been teasing if they weren’t in such a dire situation. But no. He was acting off and of course she would comment on it.
The flinch told her all she needed to know but before she could even get the first line of the exorcism out, the gun had gone off and struck her in the heart. There was no time to respond beyond a slight gasp, her body crumpling to the ground as she bled out. This was not how she saw herself dying. At the hand of her partner. Oh sure, he was possessed, but given her luck and people betraying her, it still stung. But it wasn’t like it mattered. She was dying. His words were a haze, distant, muted. Breathing hurt and the taste of blood filled her mouth, her senses.
And he took her Star of David necklace. Not that she would need it dead. But what about Abby? Tony? Even the Director? They would be there for one another but it still stung. Those were her last thoughts as she died. Maybe she’d go back home, see the outcome. Or maybe all she would have would be darkness.