5
Chapter 1
Tony was swinging from side to side in his swivel chair, staring at his computer monitor. On the screen was their suspect, John Hamilton. They had no leads and everyone was becoming stressed. They had been on this case for over two weeks, interviewed four people and followed one false lead. Across from him, sat Ziva. She was typing furiously at her computer. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but his mind was elsewhere. Gibbs sat at his desk talking on the phone and McGee was downstairs in autopsy.
"Ducky found ligature marks on our victim's neck," McGee's voice came from nowhere.
"And I have the results from the dirt under our victim's nails," Abby said excitedly, following McGee. Tony opened his mouth to speak when the elevator dinged down the corridor. A tall, dark haired man walked their way. Tony knew him as Jeff. He worked downstairs on reception. Behind Jeff was a tall dark haired woman, whose face he couldn't see. Tony shrugged and looked back to Abby, who was about to tell them what the weird substance from the dirt was. Instead, Jeff interrupted them.
"Sorry to interrupt," Jeff started. Everyone looked to him, he looked to Tony. "Agent Dinozzo, there is a Ms. Dinozzo here to see you," he said as the dark haired woman stepped from behind him and flipped her curly hair over her shoulder. Tony's eyes popped out of his head and he jumped to his feet. He knew he recognized those long slender legs, and that smooth olive complexion. She wore a short black skirt and a low cut, black and gold tank top. A 'visitor' tag was clipped to her top.
"Tony," she smiled, revealing white, sparkling teeth.
"Tony," Ziva repeated, "You never told us you had a sister." She smiled and walked their way. Tony groaned.
"She's not my sister," he started. "She's my wife."
McGee jumped to his feet and put his hands up. "Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. You have a wife?" he exclaimed. "How can YOU have a wife?" The lady laughed.
"I see you haven't mentioned me. How typical of you, Anthony," her voice purred as Tony had remembered and her laugh was as evil as before.
"Candy," Tony greeted through his teeth. She flashed that seductive smile his way.
"Anthony, no need to be hostile. I came here to give you what you want." She pulled a large brown envelope from her black leather bag and stepped toward him. She held it out to him. He grabbed it quick and examined it. "I'm sure you know what that is." She looked to the rest of the team, before she could say anything Tony spoke up.
"Why are you here?" he growled. Her eyes flickered to the envelope, but as she opened her mouth, he interrupted. "I mean, why did you come here? To the office?" She sighed and rolled her eyes.
"You don't answer your phone, and you're never home. It was only practical I would find you here." With the last word, she turned on her red high heel and began to walk away. Tony thought about stopping her. Thought about telling her how much he didn't want her go, what life was like without her. Empty and hopeless, but he couldn't, not in front of everyone, who, until this day, didn't even know she existed. Instead, he watched her walk away and disappear into the elevator, with Jeff on her heels. Now, he had to face everyone. As he turned around, he found them staring, unblinking, at him. Ziva had her arms crossed, McGee was in shock, Gibbs sat at his desk, and Abby looked confused. Gibbs was the first to break the silence, with a smile on his face.
"Good job, Dinozzo, she's pretty."
Tony stared at the large brown envelope while he swung back and forth in his chair. He knew what the contents were, but he was still scared to open it. After all these years, why now? He thought things were okay, apparently he was wrong. They hadn't spoken in almost two years. Why now? Maybe she found someone else and wanted to remarry. The thought made his heart ache. He knew they were never perfect for each other, but they always had fun together. Maybe that was the problem; he was too immature for her. He frowned.
"So, essentially, you're a cheater." Ziva's voice broke his concentration. His frown turned to a scowl as he looked up to meet her gaze. He knew she was referring to his womanizing. It was his way of drowning the pain and attempts to make him feel better.
"Shut up, Ziva!" he snapped as he jumped to his feet, knocking the envelope to the ground. "You don't know anything." She folded her arms in defense, but her expression softened.
"Then enlighten me." He narrowed his eyes and shook his head as he reached down to grab the envelope.
"I just want to be alone," he groaned as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
"Tony-," Ziva started after him, Gibbs stopped her.
"Just let him go," he said. Ziva frowned and dragged her feet back to her desk, all the time watching Tony try to hide tears as he boarded the elevator.
Alone in his dimly lit kitchen, Tony was drinking his beer as he stared at the taunting envelope. He was gathering the courage to open it, but the more beer he drank, the more he thought about her. Those dark, gray-blue eyes, olive complexion, soft, red lips… The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to open it. He needed something harder, vodka, tequila. The beer wasn't strong enough. He got up and stumbled to the cupboard. Inside, he found a small bottle of whiskey, half empty and a bottle of vodka with around half left. Instead of looking for a glass, he opened the whiskey it and chugged what was left. It burned all the way down and left him lightheaded. Grabbing the vodka, he turned around.
With liquid courage, he staggered toward the island where the dreaded envelope lay. Without another thought, he ripped it open and pulled out the paperwork. With blurry vision, he struggled to read through it. The first page was standard information about him and her, the name of her lawyer and the reason for the document.
"Application for divorce," he sputtered as he picked up the bottle of vodka and took a swig. Carefully, he skimmed over the lengthy legal jargon. There were red dots where he was expected to sign. He was about ready to throw it down when a paragraph on the page caught his eye. "Custody and guardianship of the child shall remain with the applicant." He almost dropped the bottle in his hand. Quickly, he flipped the application over. Under their information it read 1 child.
"What?" he exclaimed. He stumbled over to the phone, with a little luck and lots of concentration, he dialled Candy's number. It rang four or five times before a groggy voice answered.
"Hello?"
"How come you never told me?" he stammered.
"Anthony? Is that you?" she asked quietly. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" He glanced to the clock on the stove. It read 2:35am. He hadn't noticed. How long had he been drinking? It was daylight when he left the office. The sun was setting when he left the bar. The bar? He didn't remember going to the bar.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he slurred.
"Are you drunk?" she asked, ignoring his questions. Her voice was sharper now. "Anthony?" Listening to her say his name made his heart skip a beat.
"Umm…" he stuttered.
"Goodnight Anthony," she said harshly before the line went dead. Tony listened to the dial tone for a moment before hanging up. He stumbled over his own feet as he headed for the bedroom. He felt tears in the corners of his eyes. To dull the sting, he took another swill of vodka as he collapsed on his bed. A child. There was a child. How come she never told him?
The bright morning sun peaked through the curtains, a warm ray of sun shone directly on Tony's face. He slowly opened his eyes and squinted. His head throbbed terribly and his stomach was doing jumping jacks. A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand told him it was 10:30 am. Work. He was late for work. He jumped to his feet, only to fall back again. What happened last night? The last thing he remembered was throwing an empty tequila bottle at the wall. He glanced around his room. On the floor by the door was the broken tequila bottle.
"Where did I get tequila?" he asked himself. He didn't remember leaving the house. Where would he have gotten liquor that early in the morning anyway? He shook the thought away and tried to stand up again. The whole room began to spin. He collapsed on the bed again. Instead, he chose to lie down and cover his head with the blanket. His eyes slid shut and he fell back into sleep.
He dreamt of a hazy place with lots of people, he couldn't make out any faces. In the distance, a woman played with a small child. He couldn't make out if it was a boy or girl. He walked closer, but was stopped by an invisible wall. He banged on the glass and shouted as loud as he could.
"Candy! Candy! How could you do this to me? I loved you!" The woman picked up the child and began walking his way. Indeed, she was Candy, but taller, with lighter skin. The child she carried was a boy, about 2, with curly dark hair. His features resembled Tony, but he had his mother's eyes. Those piercing gray eyes. Tony tried to speak, but the woman grinned and her eyes stared accusingly at him.
"Why did you leave us Anthony? We needed you." Her voice was soft and innocent, quiet. Nothing like Candy's.
"I didn't leave you. I didn't know. If I had known I would stay and take care of you-." She didn't let him finish.
"You left us Anthony. You left us alone. All alone…" She and the boy drifted into the distance. Tony pounded on the glass as hard as he could, screaming for them. They disappeared and everything went white.
Clunk. Tony hit the floor hard, not missing the nightstand on his way down. His eyes fluttered open. Everything was blurry. What was that incessant ringing in the distance? As he came to, the ringing got louder. The sun was no longer shining through the curtains, but it was still daylight. It took all his strength to push himself up. He rested against his bed. Throbbing pain seared through his head. He placed his hand on his forehead. A little blood trickled down his fingers.
The ringing continued. It took him a moment to realize it was the phone. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and stumbled down the hall into the living room. The phone had stopped ringing, so he took a seat on the couch. On the counter he could see the papers. The cause of this mess. He jumped when the phone began to ring again. On the coffee table where he left it, he reached for it and checked the number. Ziva. It rang a few more times before he chose to answer it.
"Hello?" he said groggily.
"Tony! Where are you?" she shouted. He glimpsed to the phone in his left hand, the landline.
"Home, obviously," he replied.
"I know that!" she sounded frustrated. "I mean why aren't you at work? Did something happen? Are you okay? I was going to come by if you didn't answer soon."
"I'm fine, Ziva," he reassured her, even though he didn't feel convinced.
"Fine?" she repeated. "If you're fine, how come you texted me, McGee and Abby in the middle of the night saying your life wasn't worth living and you wish you were dead?" Tony shook his head.
"What?" He glanced to his cell phone on the island counter. He didn't remember sending any text messages. He got up and walked over to the kitchen and picked up his phone. Twelve text messages and fourteen missed calls. "Sorry Ziva, I had a bad night last night."
"Well we're all worried about you," she said, more calm now.
"All?" he repeated.
"Well, Gibbs insists you're fine and you just need some time off. Evidently he didn't get your text message," Ziva explained. Tony shook his head.
"I need to lie down, sorry I worried you guys," he said before hanging up. When he placed the phone on the counter, he checked the time. 6:45 pm. Wow, what a wasted day. He picked up the divorce papers. He kept rereading, 1 child. Who was this child? How old were they? Was it a boy or girl? Images from his dream ran through his mind over and over. He couldn't call her right now. He had to take some time to clear his head. He needed someone to talk to. Who? As he was sitting down, there was a knock on the door.
Who was here? He groaned and returned to his feet. He dragged his feet to the door and swung it open. On the other side stood Gibbs with two cups of coffee, he handed one to Tony and invited himself in.
"Boss," Tony greeted, aware that he looked dishevelled and smelled like he needed a shower.
"I let you be because I figured you needed some time," Gibbs started, "I know how tough it is to go through a divorce." He made his way to the living room, Tony followed. They both took a seat on the couch. "If you need to talk-," Tony cut him off.
"There's so much going through my mind, boss, I don't know where to start," he blurted.
"Just breathe and talk when you're ready." Truthfully, Tony wasn't ready to talk about it. To divulge his feelings and concerns about this divorce was too much. He knew Gibbs understood, but he didn't want to tell anyone just yet. He thought he was ready to talk about it, instead, all he felt was anxiety and he wanted to go back to bed. Gibbs stood up.
"I'm here when you're ready Dinozzo," he said before heading for the door. He glanced back quickly. "I just came by to tell you to take as much time as you need. Your job isn't going anywhere." Tony watched him leave. He never understood Gibbs, but what he did understand was his concern for him. He had come by instead of calling to make sure everything was okay. Tony stared at his coffee. What was he going to do now?
