Rifiuto: Non Mirena

Thanks to Sazzita for reviewing 13, Rosiesmomma4 for reviewing 10, DS2010 for reviewing 15, 16 and 17, Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 and 17.

Ziva took a deep breath. She knew this was coming- it had been coming for a while. So why was she suddenly so terrified of him finding out the truth of what really happened that night?

Because you're afraid he'll pull even further away. And he's made such progress in the last couple of weeks.

A moment passed before she nodded, joining him on the sofa. She immediately moved to rub her belly, keeping her gaze on the swell beneath her hands for several minutes before meeting his gaze. "It... it was the day we found out... that... that we were... having Amal, and... and we'd planned a dinner party; we were going to inform the team that night. It just happened to collide with our party..." She swallowed.

He watched her, keeping silent.

"You know, it's sad, that I still remember what I asked you to run out and get that night." She shook her head, tears coming to her eyes and she scoffed derisively. "I was making strudel roll cakes and the recipe called for sour cream... and..." She took a deep breath. "And because I wanted everything to be perfect for that night, I asked you to go-"

"And I went." She nodded, lower lip quivering.

"Yeah, you went."

Her gaze drifted briefly to the video playing, and she choked on a sob. "Car accident?" Another nod.

"It was snowing... You... kissed me and... left and... and I waited... but when you didn't get back immediately, I got upset... and... and then Gibbs showed up... but he wasn't alone. The police were with him. He... he'd been on his way over when he passed..." She swallowed. "They told me that... that there'd been an accident but wouldn't elaborate, asked me to come to the hospital."

Tim studied her, before gently reaching up to brush the tears off her cheeks. She gave him a watery smile, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. She sniffled, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Gibbs took me; when we got there, you were in surgery and... and we had to wait. We spent twelve hours in the waiting room... and I was..." She moved her gaze down to her belly, rubbing it gently. "I thought I would lose our son then and there..."

"Did... they ever figure out-" Ziva nodded, sniffling. She watched as her fingers worked running trails over her stomach, gathering her thoughts.

"You were at a stoplight... it was nothing you did, Tim. You did not wrong. You were at a red light and there was a woman passing in the crosswalk with a little girl holding tight to her hand and... and they'd just gotten to where you were in the walkway when this... butched up... red throat... white trash Chevrolet Silverado barreled through the light directly across from you... from what witnesses said you... honked your horn and was... just about to get out of the car to get the girl and her mother out of the way... they think you unbuckled your seat belt and were about to open the door, when the truck sla... slammed into the mother and... and then into you."

Ziva choked on sob. "The woman managed to get her daughter out of the way, but she was hit, and thrown under our car while you... you were thrown through the windshield..." She took a deep breath. "The woman didn't survive, but... but they still don't know how you did. Jeanne told me... that the damage was extensive and... and that the swelling could kill you... that they lost you twice on the table... she said it's not unusual for people to survive being thrown through the windshields of cars, but that it's... rare, I think she said. But I don't remember that."

Tim watched as she continued to rub her belly, realizing that the continuous motion was helping to keep her calm, and after a moment, he reached out, covering her hand with his. She looked up, meeting his gaze with a sniffle. Slowly, their fingers laced, and she squeezed softly. "The man was drunk, coming back from a Christmas party. He ran a red light at a hundred twenty miles an hour on a busy street in downtown Georgetown in the middle of a snowfall and... slammed into our car... killed a woman, left her little girl without a mother, and nearly took my husband and the father of my child from me before our baby even had a chance to make his presence known... and then... the bastard somehow managed to stagger out of his truck and flee the scene... they brought him into Bethesda on Valentine's Day... the day I took that video... I... slipped out of your room to go down to the bathroom and... and they were wheeling him in..."

"Someone go after him?" She shook her head.

"Bullet to the brain... suicide attempt... ben Zonah died two hours later... and because you can't prosecute a dead man, it never went to trial... but I did meet the little girl you tried to save... she asked me to thank you... that her mother had heard you honking your horn and..." She sighed. "I blamed myself. If I hadn't been so... set on that dinner being so perfect, then... then you wouldn't have gone out and... you wouldn't have ended up in that coma... wouldn't have lost your memory... it's my fault... if I hadn't asked you to..."

"Hey, look at me." She shifted to look at him. "It's not your fault. You are not to blame. I would have gone anyway. And... I'm sorry it happened, but... but we can move past that, right? I'm here now, and though... though I don't remember... I can try... I am trying..."

"I know you are." She brought his hand to her mouth, pressing another kiss to his palm. A sob escaped her throat, and she leaned against him, burrowing into his chest. "What did I do to deserve having a beautiful man like you to call my own? You've given me so much, Tim... a marriage... a home... a baby... but what in God's name did I do to earn the right to call you mine and mine alone?"

He held her close, resting his chin against the top of her head, his arm slipping around her waist as she returned their linked hands to the swell of her belly.