Rifiuto: Non Miriena

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"I dinna und'rstand. I did nothin' t'..."

"But that's the thing. Sometimes things happen, that we don't understand. My sister and I didn't ask to suffer abuse from our parents, it just happened. You didn't ask to be paralyzed, but it just happened. You have to make the best of it, even if the last thing you want to do at the moment is keep living."

Devin shook her head, sniffling. She had shown up on the McGee's doorstep that Saturday morning, and had been about to ask Ziva if she could talk to Tim, but all the older woman had done was look over her shoulder; Tim had been at the table, finishing up his work for the day, his novel forgotten. He'd looked up, meeting his wife's gaze, and had put the finishing touches on what he needed done before getting up and grabbing his light jacket. He pressed a kiss to his wife's lips gently, squeezing her hand before nodding to the girl.

Now, they sat in a small coffee shop; Tim had listened as Devin told him about the hassle of the last few days to get used to the wheelchair, to get used to maneuvering it at school, and the agony of the realization that she would most likely never dance again; even if she did regain the ability to walk, walking and dancing were two entirely different problems- one a molehill, the other a mountain. She took a deep breath, meeting Tim's eyes. "I... jus' wanna be able t' dance again... an'... an' feel the sand under me feet..."

He reached out, taking her hand. "I know it's hard, Devin. Believe me, I've been there. I've had my father beat me to within an inch of my life, I've had the mother of my child ripped from my arms before either of us even knew our son existed. I've had my team ripped apart, and my family torn to shreds because of this violence, this war. I've been there. And while I may not be paralyzed, I have nearly lost my life, on more than one occasion. I know how hard it can be to pick yourself up again after something horrible. My marriage was nearly destroyed, but I got through it. And so will you. You aren't alone, you have everyone in Clontarf behind you, your mother, Mrs. McGee and I... Asher, and yes, even Zipporah and Liam and Keavy and Liron. You'll be okay."

Devin nodded, swallowing thickly. "I jus'... Ma 'as told me tha'... tha' violence... destroys. I... I nev'r und'rstood... bad things rarely 'apened here..."

"Now you know she's right." She nodded. "It always takes the violence to make people wake up and realize that they need to make a change. But once they make that change, they're all the better for it." He sighed, running the tip of his finger along the rim of his cup. He slowly turned his gaze to the band around his finger; Devin watched him, swallowing before she spoke.

"Ma... Ma says tha'... tha' ye still... that ye still 'ave this... innocence 'bout ye, Mr. McGee."

Tim chuckled softly, licking his lips. "I don't have as much innocence as most people think, Devin. When you grow up the child of an abuser, you tend to lose it pretty quickly. My sister is more innocent than I am; I did everything I could to make sure she kept that innocence, and even now, there are some things she still is completely clueless about- and I'd rather keep her that way. The last thing Sarah needs is to be tainted by violence." He sighed.

"Sarah is yer sister?" He nodded.

"My baby sister, ken." Moments passed in silence, before he continued. "My wife and I have done everything possible to make sure that our kids were never touched by the violence and abuse we witnessed. We thought we'd made the right decision, but..." He sighed. "It's your generation's turn to fight for peace, not violence. You will be the ones to stop it. My grandmother, Penny, used to tell us that all the time." He shook his head, taking a sip. "But it's not true. It's not our fight anymore. Our turn was up, and all we did was escalate the violence, forgetting what we were fighting for; forgetting peace." He studied Devin, silent for a moment. "It's your generation's turn to fight for peace, and you need to use it wisely. It's your turn now." He finished the last of his coffee, before watching Devin do the same. "Ready to go?"

She nodded.

Zivaleh, please, tell me you're all right."

"We are fine, Tali. I promise. Asher is... doing better. Two months ago, he could not even take a breath without crying out in pain, and now..." She chuckled softly. "Now he is back to shouting orders to the other members of the Curling team at school during practice- but the coach keeps a sharp eye on him; doctor's orders. He's strong, a fighter, my son."

She sighed, glancing at her mug before meeting her sister's eyes on the screen. Tali had called in a panic, hearing about the latest bombing in Dublin by the ARBI, and had immediately asked Ziva about Tim and the kids; none were in Dublin, all were home- except for Liron, of course, who'd run off to be with Keavy, and since vanished from the face of the earth, breaking all contact with his family- something that tore at Ziva's heart whenever she thought of the boy. Two months had passed since 'Bloody Monday' as the press was dubbing the Massacre at Parnell Square, and life was slowly returning to normal. Over two hundred had been killed in the massacre, and the injured numbered in the thousands, but overall, things were fine for the family- as fine as they could get.

Unless you counted Asher's nightmares.

Ziva shook her head as Tali returned to her questioning. "Tali, ragu-ah!"

"Do not tell me to calm down, Ziva!" The other woman sighed, setting her cup down on the table.

"Tali, we are fine. Asher is fine. He is strong, and he is fighting, like he always has. Just like we always have. He's a McGee, remember? My boys are fighters."

"He's also a David." Ziva groaned, grabbing her cup and turning from her sister to stare out the kitchen window into the backyard, essentially ignoring her sister. "Do not ignore me, Ziva, you know it's true."

"Do not bring that bastard into this, Talia." Ziva replied, not shifting her gaze from the window.

"He was still our father." She turned, her sharp gaze meeting her sister's.

"That bastard tried to kill me and my unborn son, remember? He tried to kill my husband and left me to die in a desert! He was no more my father than Ambassador McGee is Tim's! And he has nothing to do with this!"

"Ziva, all I was saying, is that it's in our blood to survive, too. And if Abba did anything good at all, he taught us how to survive, and for that, we have to be grateful." Her sister sighed, taking a seat in front of the laptop.

"I-" She stopped, feeling strong arms slide around her shoulders. She hadn't even been aware that Tim had returned from dropping Devin off at home.

"Hey Tali, torturing my wife again?" Tim asked, slipping his arms quickly around her shoulders and squeezing as he pressed a kiss to Ziva's temple. His sister-in-law glared at him, and he chuckled before pulling away from his wife.

"I'm not torturing her, Tim." She turned back to Ziva. "Look, Zi-"

"I'm done talking about this, Tali."

"But-"

"No. I'm done." And without another word, she shut the laptop.

On the other end, Tali rolled her eyes. "No, we aren't like Abba at all."