I don't own this. I do, however, own two very wonderful kitties who are currently cuddling with me. Oh, great. She just parked herself- right- on- my- keyboard…

Also, this is right after the last section of the last chapter, but it's been like a week since Ziva got shot. She is currently four and a half months pregnant. Savvy? Good.

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Momma, are you there? It's me, your son. I love you. It's nice and safe in here, but I miss the times when you would talk to us and hug us and laugh when we fought…

Yes; I punch my sister on occasion. But she usually starts it. Sometimes I think you might know something about annoying siblings. We can't stand them, but we love them anyway.

Oh. I have to go. Sis wants me. Not for a fistfight, this time. A hug. Well, what kind of brother would I be if I didn't oblige…

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Mossad Director Eli David glared at Gibbs angrily. By contrast, Gibbs seemed relatively serene as he looked up from his desk at the other man.

"Something you want?"

Eli sighed, twisting his hands in a highly unusual show of uncertainty. Gibbs rolled his eyes, got up from his desk, and walked around it to within five feet of Eli. The seconds stretched out as they stared at each other, eye to expressionless eye.

Gibbs finally broke the silence. "You know, for a minute there, you looked just like Ziva when she couldn't figure out what to say? And did you know that she was trying to explain to me that you'd wanted her to kill her own brother? Of course, that was right after you tried to get her killed…"

He stopped as Eli took a deep breath, as though trying to calm himself, though on the outside he did not require calming of any sort.

"I know, and I was wrong. But now I cannot even apologize to my daughter. What would you have me do, hm? Travel back in time, and undo everything I ever did wrong? I cannot do that, either. I do not blame you for hating what I have done…"

"And yet here you are, and you obviously want something."

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Ziva's appearance remained largely unchanged since the team had last seen her. It might have been his imagination, but Gibbs could have sworn that the rounding of her lower body was more pronounced.

It is an odd behavioral pattern that when someone is in the hospital, the longer they have been in there, the more their friends decorate the room. Which means that the grimmer their prognosis is, the cheerier their surroundings become.

An odd assortment of gifts cluttered the room. Vases of cut flowers covered the cabinet and the windowsill, while pots of live ones filled every corner. Abby had brought in two balloons (It's a Boy! and It's a Girl!), which floated cheerily near the ceiling. McGee had blown up a photo from Ziva's latest ultrasound and taped it to the wall above the bed. Gibbs had made the twins a beautiful wooden toy chest, which even he admitted was slightly optimistic, as even in the best of all possible worlds it would be months before the twins could leave the hospital. And anyway, nobody knew where they would go once they left. Of course the team wouldn't just let them go to complete strangers in the foster care system, but none of them were prepared to handle two babies.

In any case, none of the team members were willing to address the topic just yet. They all praised the craftsmanship of the toy chest, jokingly commented that Gibbs didn't have to take his house apart to get it out of the basement, placed a few suggestions as to his next project…

The top of the chest was decorated with a carved depiction of a sun, polished until it seemed to shine. For some odd, unknown reason, every time one of the team walked past it, they had an irresistible urge to rub the carved sun, as if they could actually bring it to life.

Gibbs opened the lid of the toy chest and revealed-

Well, okay, there were a few toys. A pair of teddy bears, one milk chocolate brown, the other several shades lighter. A doll. A box of Weebles. But the majority of the chest was occupied by the remaining gifts the team had brought. Ducky had added several children's books, such as Runaway Bunny, Goodnight Moon, and Where the Wild Things Are. Tony, being Tony, had purchased DVDs of The Lion King, Snow White, and Noah's Ark. Abby had gone on a shopping spree and bought about every cute baby outfit the stores had.

Gibbs sat by the window, pulling a chair over to Ziva's bed. Eli sank into it, his eyes fixed on Ziva's face. He whispered something in Hebrew, too quietly for Gibbs to hear even if he could have understood it. Eli stroked her cheek gently, laid a hand on her belly-

"Oh!"

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Who's there? A new person, I think.

Well, hi. Nice to meet you. This is my brother- and no, he's not as crazy as he looks. Well, maybe you can't see him.

Hey!

Face it, you are crazy.

Oh, really. Well you know what else I am?

No, what?

Um, actually, I can't think of the word.

*Sigh…*

Hey, I'm not even born yet. I'm not supposed to know these things.

Wow, my brother. Just wow…

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Gibbs had left the room. Eli fished in the toy chest for Runaway Bunny. He pulled the chair even closer to Ziva and read it to her. He liked to think that wherever Ziva was, she could hear him. Or maybe her babies would.

"'If you become a bird and fly away from me,' said his mother, 'I will be a tree that you come home to.'"

For a moment, Eli couldn't continue. The only sounds were Ziva's raspy, ventilator-aided breathing and the constant, steady blip-blip of her heart monitor. Then Eli closed the book and put it back in the chest.

"My beautiful daughter, even if I had nearly gotten you killed, and you rejected me, and started a new life, I would still come and find you. I love you, and I'm so sorry."

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Author's note: I know I'm taking my AP English Literature class too seriously when I start thinking about the significance of the symbolism of the chest with the sun on it… But of course, if I were taking my class that seriously, I should be getting better than a C in it…