Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this back up, guys. Ev and I took a few days and went down to San Fran to visit friends. Zani's still with Mom; from the call we got from Mom yesterday, Zani's not even talking to her- which is a shock, cause Mom never shuts up, and is able to get everyone to talk- but she at least let Mom examine her wrists (Mom worked as a Nurse in the local mental hospital for years, so she's familiar with 'people like Zani' as she often says), which is more than anyone else has been able to do in the last few months.- Licia

A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter is probably really weak. I don't mean it to be.

Thanks to Sazzita for reviewing 12 and 13, amiebeca and sinjita2001 for reviewing 13, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 10, 11, 12 and 13.

The soft feel of something brushing against his cheek roused him from his slumber, and after a moment, his green eyes opened to reveal the object of his minor irritation. He raised his arms over his head, stretching, allowing the muscles and joints in his body to shift and pop with the languid movement. She propped herself on her elbow, watching silently as he stretched, gaze following the smooth movement of every plane of his body. At eighteen, he was tall and slender, and as pale as a ghost.

But she attributed that to the fact that he had yet to spend some real time in the Israeli sun.

Silent, she reached out, brushing a hand over his chest, trailing it over his pecs and down his stomach. Her fingers splayed across the firmness of his abs, and after a moment, she leaned over, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. "Boker tov." He studied her features, whispering it back to her. A tiny smile flitted across her face; his Hebrew was rusty, but understandable. She kissed him again, distracting him as her pinkie dove into the curve of his navel, scraping gently against the sensitive skin before she pulled away and slid her hand further down. He grabbed her wrist, meeting her gaze.

"It's your sister's funeral today, Ziva."

"It is four in the morning, Tim. Tali's..." She stopped, swallowing thickly. "It is not until ten." She pulled her hand out of his and shifted, moving until she was perched on his stomach. "I do not think Tali will mind." She leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to his lips. "We did it last night... please, Tim. I... I need to know that... that I am not alone..." He reached up, taking her face in his hand.

"You're never alone, Ziva. You've never been alone."

They spent two hours making love and then got up, taking a long, hot shower together. It was then that the realization of what was going to happen today hit her, and she broke down, holding onto him as her grief took control.

Afterwards, the four young adults gathered at Ziva's place, and over coffee, discussed everything except what had gone on that morning. The funeral had been small, private; just family and close friends- Sarah had returned from Italy, and their parents were also in attendance. Everyone Tali loved most was there to tell her goodbye. Ziva had stood with Ari and her father, the last of her family, holding tight to her brother's hand, tears brimming in her eyes.

But now, she sat on the sofa in her apartment, curled into Tim's side, as melancholy as the McGee siblings had ever seen her. She hadn't said a word since the funeral, and Ari was afraid that the darling little girl he'd loved and protected for years was gone. "Tim, can we talk?" A moment passed, as the oldest McGee sibling struggled to disentangle himself from Ziva; she clung tighter, but it was with a soft kiss and a promise that he'd be back that finally got her to let go. Once he was up, Sarah quickly took his place, cuddling with the older girl.

Once they were in the kitchen, Tim turned to the older man. Ari had since gotten his degree at Edinburgh College in Scotland, and had spent some time working in England before returning to Israel to work in the camps along the Gaza strip. He studied the younger man before him. Tim had grown up in the two years since he'd been in the States; he'd gotten taller, filled out a little more, gained a confidence that no one was aware he'd been lacking. "Wha' did ye wanna talk 'bout?"

Ari chuckled softly; it always amused him how Tim's accent came out when he was stressed or nervous. A moment passed, before he poured a couple cups of coffee, setting one in front of Tim. The younger man thanked him, wrapping his hands around it. They stood in silence for several minutes before Ari cleared his throat, causing Tim to look up. "Thank you, for coming back, Tim."

The young American nodded, taking sip of his coffee and then setting the cup down. "I just... wish it were under better circumstances." He swallowed, slowly meeting Ari's gaze. "Do you know how-"

"She was shot." Ari whispered, the warmth in his voice thickened with sadness. "From what Zivaleh said, she... she survived the bombing and then... it struck her heart and pierced her lung, she bled out." Tim forced himself to swallow. "She did not deserve such a horrific way to die." A moment passed, before he gave Tim a small, quick smile. "You take care of her, Tim."

The younger man furrowed a brow, sipping his coffee. "Who?"

"Ziva. She needs you now, maybe more than ever."

Tim glanced back towards the living room. "I have to go back to the states in the next couple of days, Ari. I have to finish school, I can't stay here, much as I would want to." Ari nodded, but grabbed Tim's wrist as he moved to return to the living room. Tim turned back, confused.

"Listen to me, Tim. You need to take care of my remaining sister. She needs you. And she's going to need you a lot more later on in life."

"I'll always take care of Ziva, Ari. But I can't do that as a university stu-" Ari pulled him close.

"Once you finish your studies and Ziva goes to America, then you look out and protect her. Because that is what a good husband does."

Tim stiffened, as Ari released his wrist and returned to the living room.