Rifiuto: Non Mirena

Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 33, 34 and 35 and crawcolady for reviewing 33.

"Rivka? Come to bed, my love." He found her in the study, curled up on the sofa, a photo album in her lap. "Oh, Rivka."

She looked up as he joined her; the tears that ran down her cheeks glistened in the dim light and she sniffled. Her nose was red and her hair a mess.

The house was quiet- Ari had been the first to bid everyone goodnight, leaving with kisses and promises that he'd be back in the morning to spend breakfast with all of them; Tim and Ziva had left an hour later, promising the same. It had been evident that they had something planned for that night, just the two of them. An hour or so later, Malachi had shown up on the doorstep, asking after Sarah, and the young Irishwoman had fled, kissing them both on the cheek with promises to be in by curfew. And Tali had, in her usual, quiet manner, informed her parents that Michael was picking her up- they had plans to drive out to the beach and watch the stars.

This was the first time in a long time the house was near dead silent, and it was freaking Rivka out.

"When exactly did they grow up, Eli? I swear, I was watching them-"

He chuckled, taking a seat beside her. "When we were not looking, my love."

She shook her head. "No. I was always looking, always watching them and suddenly-" She swallowed. "Suddenly they have grown up and Tim and Ziva have gotten their own place and are in a steady relationship and Ari is living and working in England and Tali and Sarah are both starting relationships... next thing there will be engagements and weddings and babies being born and-" A moment passed, before she choked on a sob, curling into Eli's side. "When did my children stop being children?"

A soft laugh escaped Eli's throat, and he slid an arm around her waist, kissing her head before glancing at the photo album in her lap. "They will never stop being children, Rivka, no matter how old they get or where their lives take them. We will always see them as our children, even when they are old and grey and have had many children of their own." He studied the images of his five sitting together on the porch steps of Be'er Sheva, dressed for morning prayers. "I do not think Tim and Sarah fully believed it, that they are officially Israelis now. Sarit spent the entire ceremony holding Timothy's hand, her green eyes wide, as though she were trying to wake from some dream."

Rivka sniffled. "They truly are ours now, ken, Eli? They have renounced their Irish citizenship; they are Israeli now, that means they are ours, right? Ours and no one else's?" He met her gaze. "We are their parents?"

"We have always been their parents, Rivka, my love."

She sighed, knowing that Eli was right, but still, a tiny part of her couldn't help but worry. The debacle with their birth parents had scared her enough to keep her hackles raised in regards to her surrogate children. There was no way she was letting them out of her sight unless she had too. "I just... for a brief moment, I thought John was going to try to persuade them to return to Ireland and-"

"I know, love. It scared you. It scared me too. But Timothy and Sarah both know that there is nothing for them in Ireland; they do not have the family connections in Ireland that they do here." He reached up, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "They do not have us there; therefore they have no reason to ever go to Ireland. Unless they wish too." He stood, holding out a hand. "Come on; it is late."

When they slipped into bed twenty-minutes later, Rivka curled into his arms, resting her head on his chest. He rubbed her back, tangling his fingers in her hair momentarily before stroking his fingers once more down her back. She nuzzled into him, unbuttoning his pajama top and pushing it aside, tracing her fingers over his chest, brushing a kiss to the light matting of hair beneath her fingers. She had learned early on in their marriage of Eli's quiet temper and deep desire to keep the safety and well-being of his family prominent.

So when Leon had come to them, informing them of the plight of Ireland's children, of how homes with loving families were needed, and the situation was urgent that they get as many out of the violence as they could, the couple had gone round in circles, trying to decide if it was the right thing to do, bringing an unknown child or children into their home; their first concern had been for their children, and how they would react. But eventually, the need to help won out, and they agreed, not knowing if they were receiving one child or a pair of siblings or more. Eli had, eventually, equated the plight of Ireland's children to the hiding of Jews during the HaShoah- and how Catholic and Christian families had taken in sometimes whole families of Jews, protecting them from the violence, even at risk of their own lives.

And they had quickly learned upon meeting Tim and Sarah, that they'd made the right choice in taking them. Shy to the point that it was painful, the two had spent the first two hours after arriving home glued to each other's sides; when Eli had separated the siblings in order to show each of them their rooms, Sarah had let out an ungodly scream, latching onto her brother, sobbing and begging to go with them- she'd been terrified Eli would do something to hurt her brother. It was quite clear just how scarred both were, though the amount of violence they'd witnessed before coming to Israel would never be fully known; neither Tim nor Sarah remembered much, and what they did remember, they didn't discuss, even to this day.

But after those first initial hurdles- especially during that first week- things had begun to calm down, and by the time the siblings had hit high school, they had begun considering themselves Davids instead of McGees. Eli was their father, no question, and Rivka was in every way that counted their mother.

She sighed. "I wish..."

He looked down at her. "You wish what, Rivka?"

His wife was silent for several minutes, before,

"There is... a very small part of me that... that wishes they were mine." He furrowed a brow, and she continued, sitting up. "Eli, is it... selfish of me?"

"Selfish how, Rivka?" He asked, joining her and sitting back against the headboard.

She met his gaze, tears in her eyes as her hands moved down to cradle her womb. "To... to wish that... that I had been the one to bear them? To bring them into this world? Am I selfish, Eli, for hating Kathleen because she gave birth to them?"

He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her head. "God, Rivka, not at all. Not at all."