Id est non meum.
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"Look!"
Abby pointed at Ziva. A tiny bump shifted under the sheet.
The entire team was gathered in Ziva's ICU room, waiting to hear her prognosis. Hopes were not high, on the whole.
However…
A small fact of life: It is incredibly tenacious.
"That's a kick! Or a punch! Or a head-butt! Or a butt-butt! Or-"
"Abby!"
Abby realized that everyone was staring at her. Well, everyone, that is, except Ziva and her twins. Well, the twins might well have been staring at her.
Anyway…
"That's got to be good, right? They're alive and kicking... Ziva, wake up! Your babies need you!"
Abby was close to tears. Gibbs put an arm around her. "I need you."
They still stood there what seemed like hours but really was only about ten minutes later, when a resigned-looking doctor came into the room. She sighed to herself, all too acutely reading the team's gazes.
Hating to crush their hopes, she reminded herself that she had no choice. But at least it's not all bad news. The babies, at least, stood a fighting chance.
The girl with the black pigtails and the spider web tattoo on her neck turned to the doctor, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The doctor shook her head, answering the unspoken question.
"I'm so sorry."
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She stared down the barrel of her rifle at the four men and a woman crowded around her. The woman who had executed her brother.
Expecting to feel the same anger she'd felt when she'd first heard the news, she was surprised to feel- sorrow? Yes, indeed. Sorrow for her lost brother. Sorrow for the love they'd shared. And yes, even for the team, who obviously cared about the wrong woman.
She readied herself to take the shot, finger on the trigger.
Wait a minute-
Is she pregnant?
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Someone touched him. Someone friendly. Not Mommy. Something was wrong with Mommy. He knew it.
They both knew it, even though they didn't have the words to say it.
At the moment though, she was asleep.
Well…
He reached over and poked her on the shoulder. She smacked him on the back of his head before kicking at the hand resting on them.
Four more hands pressed down on them. Excited, they began high-fiving all of them. Irritated that he had stolen one of hers, she grabbed his hand and flipped him over.
Somehow, they had learned a few things from their mother. Ways of interacting with each other, a sense of friendship with the people surrounding them, and even a distant memory, of love such as that between the two of them, and how it had ended tragically.
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She couldn't do it. She just couldn't.
I want revenge, but that's just-
Even she couldn't hate someone that much.
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