I do not own this. I do not own this. I do not own this. I do not own this. Got it? Good. Because I think four times should be enough.
So tell me, did I overdo the previous chapter? I know it's kind of weird, but I like it, mostly. The thing is, I like to write really late at night, because that's when inspiration strikes, but then if I stop writing, I forget where I am, and if I keep writing, I end up with a really weird chapter. Anyway…
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Ari sat on the park bench which had been his home for longer than half of his official ones. Okay, they're going to find me in three… two… one… half… one quarter…
Five minutes later, a police car pulled up.
"Are you Ari?"
He nodded and walked over, backpack in hand. When directed, he got into the back of the police car. This is getting repetitive. I wouldn't mind a little variety now and then…
He decided not to mention to the officer that she had badly mispronounced his name. Nobody ever got it right.
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Several confusing hours later, Ari sat on a plane, his backpack on his lap, watching the light play over the water below. The in-flight movie played across the screen in front of him, but he barely noticed. What he did notice was stupid- something about some family that hadn't paid their insurance, so none of them were allowed to drive, and the mother and her friend were stuck at some park eating out of the vending machine, while the father tried to raise the money for the insurance by selling "therapeutic" bee stings. Which was complete rubbish.
Ari had tried living out of vending machines, and it wasn't nearly as bad as they made it out to be. And he vividly remembered getting stung by a bee. It was the only time in his life he'd cried, except for probably when he had been a baby, and he'd still been only two years old.
He drifted into sleep as the hours went by, waking up to hear an announcement over the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our approach to Regan National Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts…"
Ari tuned the voice out and focused on making sure that all his belongings were in his backpack. There weren't that many of them; the police had given him a passport and boarding pass before sending him on his way. Nope. They're still not interested in me. They're just doing their job.
Forty-five minutes later, he sat on another bench, still holding his backpack. Luggage-bearing crowds streamed past, some rushing to the terminals before they were late for their flights, others leaving for their cars or to continue their journeys elsewhere. Somehow, he was vividly reminded of the move Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, which he had seen in one of his more recent foster homes.
A man with silver hair and a gun at his hip walked up, smiling at him.
"Hi."
"You're the one I'm supposed to meet."
Gibbs was slightly startled by the boy's formal, adult attitude. Grown up too fast, just like his mother and uncle. Well, at least we found him. He needs help.
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Ari slept in a chair in Ziva's room, blanket around his shoulders, teddy bear from the chest under his arm. When he was sure everyone was gone, he "woke up" and looked around.
I finally get to meet my mother, and I'll still never get to talk to her.
The disappointment had been mitigated somewhat when he met his mother's father and friends, but he still couldn't help but wonder why she had never tried to track him down. It can't have been that hard; her friends found me in a couple of days. Why did she never…
At least he had the younger siblings he'd always wanted.
On that note, he laid his hands on Ziva's baby bump, feeling the fluttering sensation of life within her. Hello, little one. Are you my sister or my brother? I'm sorry, but I can't tell you apart from out here.
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Eli and Abby didn't acknowledge the nurse as she walked into the room and checked the vital signs of the three patients. The entire team had gotten used to the medical staff keeping an eye on their friend. It had taken a while to break their usual habit of helicoptering an injured teammate and admit that the doctors and nurses would take care of Ziva.
They did, however, notice that the nurse took longer than usual to monitor the twins' vital stats.
"What is wrong?"
Eli's voice broke through the silence which forever permeated the room, despite the team's attempts to break it with music or their voices. Death seemed to have already taken hold, quashing all attempts to defy it with demonstrations of happiness.
The nurse, her face pale, pressed the call button and started dashing around the room, pressing buttons and disconnecting wires in ways that nobody else understood. She seemed agitated, worried, which was highly unusual for her; she had been treating Ziva for most of the two months during which she had been in the hospital, and never let her friendly smile fall.
Until now.
As doctors and nurses rushed into the room, Eli and Abby stood up, trying to get out of the way. Abby, though, also tried to make heads and tails of what was happening.
"What's wrong?"
One of the doctors turned towards her as the others began to wheel Ziva out of the door.
"Baby B's heart rate is dropping. We need to deliver them, now."
Abby gasped and followed Ziva out the door.
"But she's only seven months along! They're not old enough to-"
"We don't have a choice! We have to take them, now!"
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Author's note: I know, I'm so mean, aren't I? You should see these movies I'm planning on making- one of them could easily defeat Inception in mean cliffhanger endings. But anyway, moving on…