Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Now for a little brother time...
A soft knock signaled someone at the door. A moment passed, before Asher poked his head in. Dinner had been quiet; after explaining everything to Gibbs and Tony, Tim and Ziva had walked the other three home. After dinner, Liron had fled upstairs, leaving his siblings downstairs with his parents. Tim and Ziva had shared a glance, but left the boy alone. He clearly wasn't in the mood to talk. Two hours later, when Liron still hadn't come downstairs, Asher headed up, to make sure his brother was still alive.
"Liron? You okay?" Asher poked his head in, studying his brother. The boy sat in the bed, pillow in his lap. A moment passed in silence before the boy spoke.
"What do you want?" Slowly, Asher slipped into the room and shut the door, leaning against it, two cups of coffee in his hands.
"I just want to talk." It was then that the boy looked up.
"Can't you just leave me alone?" Asher screwed up his mouth, thinking.
"Nope. Can't. Sorry." He moved away from the door and sauntered over to the bed, sitting beside his brother. "Your my brother, it's my job to not leave you alone." He held out the second cup and waited. Slowly, Liron accepted the drink with a whispered thank you.
"Ima send you up here?" The older boy shook his head, sipping his coffee.
"No. Amazingly, I decided to come up here myself." Liron rolled his eyes.
"You must be brilliant then." Asher snorted with a shake of his head.
"No. Abba's the brilliant one, remember? Ima's the scary one." Liron chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. They settled into silence again, and Asher looked around. Despite the fact that the cottage looked small, it was far from it. All the rooms in the house were good sized, especially the bedrooms. There was more space in each bedroom than most would think, but because everyone in the family was a reader, bookshelves took up the space, giving each room a cozy feel.
Much like his room, his brother had bookcases- some built-in, some not- a small reading nook in the corner, and a corner where his desk was situated, facing the window. But that was where the similarities ended. While Asher had painted his room a pretty dusted emerald green and had framed posters of novel covers- The Great Gatsby, For Whom the Bell Tolls, Rebecca and the like- and quotes on his walls, Liron was the opposite.
His brother's favorite color was heather grey, and he'd painted the walls of his room that color. He and Zipporah had done fairly well in the Irish dance, and so he did have a small shelf for the various awards they'd won, as well a photograph he'd taken the first week they were in Ireland, of the River Nore, with Kilkenny Castle, from the bridge leading to the castle. To the surprise of everyone, Liron was quite skilled with a camera- Zipporah had joked that he could be a photojournalist for National Geographic. But the one thing the brothers did share was a love of music.
Taking a deep breath, Asher got up, going to the stereo and looking through the music his brother had. Liron wasn't as into Queen or the older music than Asher, but he did enjoy some of the older singer- but the majority of his music was from the nineties and early two-thousands. But the boy's absolute favorite band was Nickelback. He had all the band's cds, and played them a lot- especially when he was upset. Which was what Asher found odd- not a hint of Nickelback was playing at that moment.
Silently, the older boy slipped a cd out of a case, into the player, turned on the stereo, and then returned to sit by his brother. Instantly, Chad Kroeger began weaving a story with a set of drums, some guitars and that unique voice of his. The older boy turned back to his brother.
"So." Liron glanced up at him, shrugging. "Come on, Brother, talk to me. I won't say anything to Ima and Abba if you don't want me to. I won't even tell Zippa, and you know how she is with secrets; doesn't keep them unless it benefits her in some way." The boy stayed quiet. Asher gently bumped his shoulder against his brother's, grinning. But the famous, quick McGee grin soon faded when he realized what the problem was. "This is about Keavy, isn't it?"
A nod. "Yeah."
He sighed, pulling his legs up under him. Liron had come downstairs midway through Gibbs' questioning of the girl, and when the agent finished, he'd asked to talk to her. They'd stepped outside, talking quietly to each other on the back porch step, but soon, raised voices had penetrated the kitchen. Liron had then stormed into the kitchen and gone upstairs, slamming his bedroom door. Something had shattered, but no one went up to check; the entire family knew better than to confront the youngest McGee boy when he lost his temper. He had Ziva's violent streak- but tended to direct it more at objects than people; something his mother never quite grasped. Keavy had come in moments later, tears streaming down her cheeks, and immediately gone to Ziva. She and Tim had walked the other kids home, returning in time for dinner. Asher chuckled, as he thought of how the only reason his brother had eaten was because Ima threatened to tie him to a chair and force feed him- a variant on the torture techniques she'd learned during her time in Mossad.
"I'm sorry, Brother. I know you really liked her." Liron looked up at him, tears in his eyes.
"I... I still do." He whispered, sniffling.
"Well, what did-" Asher swallowed. "What did she say?"
His brother took a deep breath. "She... she compared herself to Ima..."
"I don't wanna be in it. I 'ave no choice."
"Ima and Abba and... and Tony and Mr. Gibbs... they can help."
"An' wha' if they can't? Wha' if I kill someone? I'm no' yer Ma, Liron. I'm no' as cold as her, I canna kill someone!"
"Ima isn't cold, Keavy. Every life she took- she grieves for. Blames herself for."
Asher let him talk, listening silently. When his brother's hands began to shake, he removed the cup and set it on the nightstand. Liron talked of how she'd begged him to understand that because she was now a part of this, she had no choice but to do as they asked. She couldn't back out; and if her actions, her participation in this... this war... caused death, then so be it, but it would be her hands dipped in innocent blood, not his.
"She asked me if we could... could still..."
"I los' Ma... I canna lose ye too, Liron. Please..."
Asher watched his brother yank his hand away from whatever he was thinking of, and after a moment, he gently reached out, taking the younger boy's hand and stroking the back of it, like Abba would do to calm them down.
"Don't you know what happens when you pick sides, Keavy? When you pick a side, it means you break contact. With everyone that isn't on that side! So me, Ima, Abba, Asher... Zippi..."
"But yer're neutral. It should not count! I should still..."
Liron swallowed. "She kissed me... as if it could... as if it could erase everything from the last few weeks or so. As if it didn't mean that she's in the ARBI... like she thought we could go back to before all this..."
Asher squeezed his brother's hand, silent.
"Please. Please, Liron. I jus'.. I jus' want ev'rything back... please... Liron, I love you."
He took a shaky breath. "She... she told me... that she loved me..." Asher stared, eyes wide. "And I... I broke her heart... I told her to... to enjoy Hell and walked away... I didn't mean it, Brother... I... I was angry... I swear I didn't mean it..." He broke down then, and Asher looked up, finding his parents in the doorway, listening. After a moment, Ziva joined her sons on the bed, and Asher gently pushed him brother into her arms. Ziva held her son close, tears in her own eyes.