Rifiuto: Non Miriena
Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 31; Sazzita for reviewing 28, 29, 30 and 31; skyjadeprincess for reviewing 28; Reader for reviewing 28, 29, 30 and 31.
She hadn't even been aware that the photos were being taken, but there they were, in her hands. Turning one of them over, she couldn't help the small smile at Ari's slantedly neat scroll or Tali's childish printing. As she continued looking through the photos, one caused her to stop. She stared at it for several minutes, before turning it over and seeing her sister's writing. She hadn't even been aware that Tali had grabbed the camera. But then again, she'd been so focused on giving birth, that she hadn't noticed much of anything except the pain that day.
She struggled to take a breath; the burning was so painful it took her breath away, and she squeezed Rivka's hand, in a feeble attempt to help deal with the pain. Another scream escaped her, and she lay her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. "Ima!"
"I know it burns, Zivaleh. I know. But you must breathe through it-" Her daughter's scream cut her off, and she glanced at Ari.
"Ari, anything?" He sighed, shrugging.
"The baby is crowning, that is all I can tell you. The very top of his head is out, and he is continuing to come. It takes time. If she keeps fighting like this, she will tear, and it will take longer for her to heal." His sister let out another scream, and she buried her face in Rivka's shoulder. "She needs to calm. Do you hear me, Zivaleh? If you don't calm, you are only making the birth harder on you and your son."
Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him. "You try to push another human being out of your body, and then tell me to calm."
"Ziva." Rivka grabbed her chin, forcing the laboring young woman to meet her gaze. She whispered something to her, and Ziva nodded, whimpering in response. She didn't hear the click of the camera.
She rolled her eyes. Only Tali would think to take a photograph while her nephew was crowning. But then again, now that she thought back on it, Ziva was kind of grateful she had. She flipped to another photograph, but the sound of shuffling feet caused her to turn. "Ziva? It's barely five past oh-one-hundred. What are you doing out here?" She sighed and put the photos and letters back into the chest before closing it and standing. Lifting it, she turned to him.
"I could not sleep, and I did not want to wake you." He shook his head, turning around and heading back to the bedroom as she followed.
He watched her slip the chest into the back of the small walk-in closet; she would find a more fitting place to put it in the morning. Once done, she climbed back under the covers, turning to face him. Propping herself onto her elbow, she found herself studying the man beside her. She saw several of his features in their son, most notably those beautiful green eyes- that were currently filled with worry. "Is there something wrong? That why you can't sleep?" She thought a moment, before shaking her head slowly.
"No. I just... I cannot sleep." He nodded, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair off her face. Her eye caught something under his sleeve, and she grabbed his hand, stopping him from pulling away. Gently, she pushed the sleeve of his shirt back, turning his arm up, revealing another tattoo. Her gaze shot from the tattoo to his face and back, before she asked, "Tim, what is this?"
He sighed. "It's the Celtic symbol for fatherhood." She waited, giving him the time to gather his thoughts and continue. "I got it done the same day I finished the one on my back." He quickly licked his lips, glancing at her face. "I got it for Asher." Her head snapped up, dark eyes in shock.
"You did?"
"He's my son." He shrugged. "I asked them to add his name and the meaning to it as well."
She turned her gaze back to the tattoo, now searching for her son's name among the intricate Celtic detailing. The knot itself was a beautiful, dark emerald green, one continuous strand of dark green, unlike the knot on his back, and the cross created in the center by the intricate knot itself was a filled-in beautiful deep blue. Green for the famous Irish luck she remembered Tim telling her about all those years ago, when they wandered through a bookstore in downtown Tel Aviv, and she found a book on Ireland. And blue, to symbolize the holiness of her faith, and the faith their son had been raised around, those first eight years of his life.
After several minutes, she found what she was looking for- at one point in the knot, her son's name took the place of the knot work, only separated by the curve of another loop, but still, plain as day in beautiful script: Asher Malachi. Slowly, she let her gaze follow the rest of the work, until she found the meaning, in the same beautiful script as his name: my blessed angel. She tilted her head, continuing to follow the knot, and found his birth date in the same script. Tears came to her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Toda, Tim." She sniffled, quickly brushing the tears away. "It is beautiful." He reached up, cradling her face in his hand.
"He's my son, and he'll always be with me, no matter where life takes us." She pressed a kiss to his palm, before moving down and kissing the tattoo on the inside of his wrist.
"You did this for him?" He shook his head.
"I did it for both of you."