Rifiuto: Non Mirena

"Timmy, what.. what are you doing-" She stopped, however, when she saw the look in his eyes. "Oh, God. Tell your wife that after that kid is out of her, I'm gonna kill her."

Her brother sighed. "Why didn't you say anything, Sarah?"

She took a deep breath, stepping back and allowing her brother to enter the room. She led him into the kitchen, and quickly poured two cups of coffee, setting them at the kitchen table before taking a seat. Tim joined her, waiting patiently. A moment passed, before she wrapped her hands around the mug and released a breath. "Jason and I- he's my partner... we met in India a couple years ago on an assignment for Nat Geo and... started an affair. And we... we're living together... and yes, we had a little girl."

On shaky legs, Sarah got up, going into the living room. She came back to the kitchen with a small wooden box, setting it on the table and opening it up. Tim watched as his sister removed several things, including the envelope she'd shown Ziva, and laid them out on the table before him. He reached for one of the photographs- an image of Sarah holding a tiny baby in a pink blanket.

"She only weighed a pound and five ounces when she was born... I'd started to hemorrhage during the birth and..." She stopped, reaching out and pulling the birth certificate towards her. "We were able to baptize her before she died... so Jason and I... we named her Shanti... it's Indian for peace. Because that's where we met. We'd known of each other, but our assignments never allowed us to cross paths until India, so we... we named her in honor of the country that brought us together."

"Why didn't you say anything, Sarah? Ziva and I could have helped you-"

"You'd been in that accident and had slipped into the coma... and Jason and I were still in Italy... I was on bed rest after the surgery for months... and when I heard, I wanted to come back, I did, but... but I couldn't."

He set the photograph down, turning his gaze to the rosary. "The chaplain at the church in Cagliari gave it to me. Told me to use it whenever I get stressed, and remember that my daughter's with God now and is in no pain... and I've tried, but..."

She took a deep breath, meeting her brother's gaze. She's your baby sister, and you've been so focused on your own life that you haven't even checked on her or worried about her... she's your baby sister... she's your responsibility... it's your job to protect her...

"I... I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm so, so sorry." His little sister reached over, taking his hand and squeezing gently.

"There was nothing you could do, Timmy. Nothing anyone could do."

Something hit him, something off, and he met her gaze. "But... Sarah... you... you just lost your daughter..." She nodded, tears coming to her eyes. "So... so why are you... why are you agreeing to film Amal's birth?" He moved closer. "Sarah, by every right, you can tell Ziva and I no, that you don't want to. You have that right not to film it for us. You... you shouldn't be filming it for us... all this is doing is... causing you pain."

"I know, Timmy."

"Then why are you agreeing to help us?"

The younger woman took a deep breath, turning back to the photographs taken during her labor and delivery, the only images of her baby girl. She studied the photographs briefly, picking up one of the ones of her holding her daughter. She studied the image, realizing that when her child had been born, her family had been clear in America, her brother building a life with the woman he loved- and then, in an instant, some idiot driver had taken that very life away from him, had thrown him into a coma and wiped his memory clean of all that truly mattered- his wife, his marriage, his son. And though his memory was slowly returning, though memories of his life with Ziva were carefully digging themselves out of the ashes that was the amnesia, it was a slow process; of course, there was that realization that those memories may never return and that he'd be left with that loss for the rest of his life.

If it had been Sarah in that situation, if had been Sarah in that accident, the last thing she would want would be to lose that day, those memories, that amazing experience of giving birth to her daughter, no matter the outcome. Those memories were what she clung to, were what kept her going- that she had a daughter, that she'd held her and kissed her and given her a name and loved her... and the thought of never realizing, never knowing that-

It tore at her heart, for that was what her brother was going through. The loss of his family, due to something he had no control over. And though he was starting to regain some of it back...

Two sets of green eyes met, and after a moment, Sarah replied, "I want to. I may have lost my daughter, but... but I didn't have you or Ziva with me when she was born..."

"Sarah, if we could have-"

She reached up, caressing his cheek. "I know, Timmy. And I don't fault you for it. But that's why I'm doing this. Because I am not going to miss the birth of my nephew. I'm not going to let Ziva go through what I went through- she's going to have her family there, even if it's only just you and I. And I made a promise to you both, at your wedding, that if you ever had children, I would be there to film their births. And I'm going to stick to it, because that's what McGees do. Besides, the birth of a child is a happy day. Even if the child doesn't survive, it's still a happy day."

"But this will just bring up memories for you-"

"I know. And they're going to hurt; I don't deny that they will. But what's the point of painful memories if you don't balance them out with happy ones? And the day my nephew comes into the world is going to be joyous." She got up, taking a seat on his lap. "When Amal is born, I know that Shanti's going to be there to meet him; because before I got back, I told her all about him. She's going to be Amal's guardian angel, I know she is."