Disclaimer: I don't own 24 or any of its characters.
This story takes place between seasons 3 and 4, shortly after Tony's release from prison.
Weak afternoon light filtered through the blinds, lighting up the end of a long wooden table. Dust particles drifted lazily downwards, settling on the shiny surface, and the neighbor's cat walked along the fence, tail sticking up. Tony rubbed his eyes, gazing aimlessly outside. Idly he wandered what had distracted him, unwilling to admit the truth to himself – it felt too good to be true sitting at home. He pushed his chair back and wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the wall.
'Hi Tony, are you ready for a coffee?' questioned his mother with a gentle smile
'I guess so,' he agreed, settling on a bar stool. Elbows propped on the counter he watched her fill the coffee maker, reveling in the smells of cooking. Chopped onions lay in a saucepan, whilst tomatoes and capsicum lay on a plate, sliced thin. 'Can I help with anything?'
His mother glanced carefully over at him. 'Sure. I got another bag of stuff to chop. But you're busy with something, sweetheart.'
Tony shook his head nonchalantly. 'I'm not that busy,' he admitted. 'It's just an old lead I'm following.' He drew the plate and knife towards himself and set to work. 'An old lead I just can't seem to forget,' he thought to himself. You got a real problem, Almeida. It's been almost a year since Bob died, and you got 20 people arrested, and you're just not satisfied. You'll take this with you to the grave!
His mother stirred the onions, smiling at him. He smiled back at her, reading her easily. She was thrilled to have him stay for a few days, delighted he was released from prison. The last year during his imprisonment had been tough on all of them, and she was the only one who had not insisted he settle down and put the past behind him the moment he was released. She never judged him, seeking only to prop him up through her strength, visiting him without mentioning it to anyone. As though she read his thoughts, she left the stove and moved over to him, pulling him close for another hug. Tony laid down the knife and slipped his arm round her. 'I'm ok now, mom,' he said softly.
His mother collected herself, straightening. 'I know that, sweetheart. I just need to be able to feel you, with none of that, that glass between us. It's only been three weeks.'
He stared at her startled. You almost told me what you really thought about that glass, mom! Visiting him in prison had shown her something of a side of life she had been largely unaware of, and it had toughened her. She and his father had risked a lot, taking food to him to his hidden beach whilst he prepared for his escape, they had both been interrogated and had remained silent about his whereabouts, they had been threatened with imprisonment if it turned out at any time that they had aided him. The phone rang, startling them both. His mother shook her head, hurrying back to stir the onions. Tony got up slowly to lift the receiver, resenting his afternoon interrupted.
'Almeida,' he answered absentmindedly, leaning against the family room wall, glancing at the bullet hole that still hadn't been repaired. He was unprepared for the voice at the other end.
'Antonio? What are you doing there? I heard they released you. Better behave this time, or they'll take you right back! What are you doing with yourself these days? Are you working yet?'
Tony grimaced, covering the phone with a hand. 'Mom, its abuela,' he said. 'She wants to talk to you.'
His mother appeared, a terrified look on her face. She shook her head rapidly and put a finger to her lips. 'I'm out shopping,' she whispered. 'You talk to her, Tony.'
Tony rolled his eyes at her and settled on the floor. 'Mom's out shopping,' he lied, turning to grin at his mother, who nodded gratefully before disappearing back into the kitchen. 'Me? I'm staying here for a week. Michelle's at Langley for ten days so the house would be too quiet. No, I haven't got a job yet.' He sighed deeply. 'No, I'm not home looking for one coz I got a bad cold and mom ordered me to relax this week.' He listened silently for a while. 'No, you're right. I don't sound like I gotta cold, but that's because I'm feeling better today. Mom's herbal teas are starting to work.' Once again he listened to his grandmother, rubbing his eyes. He felt tired often nowadays, and caught every cold going around, and was sicker with them. The doctor had run a few tests but all came out fine, so he was ordered to eat well, rest and get a little exercise. 'I'm sorry abuela, that I caused you such embarrassment,' he sighed. 'Aha, I can imagine how it felt, when all the old ladies came to ask if it's true you have a grandson in prison, but you could have denied it.' He listened silently, his face turning red. 'Well, I'm real sorry someone here told someone's relative and every old lady in Chicago knows, but trust me, my life was pretty close to hell in there, so right now I don't care whether you can or cannot face the dinner at the Spanish Club tonight!' He laid the receiver down forcefully without saying goodbye, groaning aloud.
'Tony? What did she say?' questioned his mother, appearing with a wooden spoon in her hand.
He followed her back to the kitchen. 'Not that much. She just basically wanted to know everything about me, oh, and to let me know how I embarrassed her.' He chewed his lip in silence, settling back on the bar stool. 'I guess some things don't change. Remember in Chicago when I got suspended from school after Papa taught me how to fight, how embarrassed she was then? Some kid told his mom, and everyone heard about it, and by dinner she'd called you to chew you out.'
His mother laughed, moving closer to pat his hair. 'You're still upset about it? Let it go, Tony, she doesn't mean it badly.'
Tony pushed the plate of chopped vegetables to her, and she added them to the saucepan. A delicious odor wafted through the kitchen and he laid his head on his arm, closing his eyes. 'Tony. You should go and have a rest, you're not well yet,' his mother said gently, fussing over him.
A smile played across his face as he opened his eyes, noting her concern. 'I'm fine, mom. Hey, we didn't have the coffee yet! That's why I'm dropping off to sleep!'
His mother shook her head. 'Go upstairs and have a nap, sweetheart, and I'll warm the coffee when you get up.' She pulled his arm persistently and he rose, allowing her to lead him to the stairs. 'Get some sleep. It's ok, there's nothing else happening at the moment.'
He climbed the stairs, lost in thought. You're wrong, mom, there's always something happening! Some bastard will be planning something right now. A sigh escaped him as he pushed open his old bedroom door, noting the lack of change. Two bunk beds lined the walls, all four beds made up. Tony pulled off his jeans and shoes and paused before the bottom bunk, staring at a model ship in silence before he climbed up to his own bed. I'll get them all, Bobby! Exhausted, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, waking moments later in cold sweat.
Relax Almeida; you're not in prison anymore. He shook his head to clear it of the image of two guards pushing him into a cage, the sound of a slamming door reverberating through him. Letting out a deep breath he rolled over, allowing his eyes to shut. Once again he fell asleep, seeing his younger brother on the gangway of a ship, seeing a handful of men pressing some buttons. 'NO.' Tony woke up shaking, wiping his forehead automatically.
Silently he climbed out of bed, dragging his blanket behind him, and moved over to the corner of the room, beside their old toy box. Wrapping himself in his blanket he leaned against the wall, resting his head on it, legs stretched out. How often did I get to stand here, facing the wall, Papa? An amused grin crept across his face as he closed his eyes again. Don't go to sleep, Almeida, just rest. It's almost as good. His exhausted body lost the battle he fought with it and he fell asleep, head hanging forwards, his chest rising and falling. He failed to hear the door opening, failed to see his parents' faces as they peeped in at him.
'Tony.' He forced his eyes open, weary. 'Dinner's ready. You should come down and eat. Rita's here, she'd love to see you.'
He nodded, unwrapping himself. He tossed the blanket back on the bed and followed his father outside and down the stairs, wrapped instantly in his sister's arms. 'Tony! I wanted to come see you; I left the kids with Miguel and just came. You should come more often.'
They ate dinner together, Rita talking about the new mischief her two sons had thought up in the previous week while his parents laughed aloud. 'Sweetheart, they get it from you, I doubt whether the professor left his books long enough to do anything wrong,' their father told her, highly entertained.
'Come on, Papa,' Rita protested, her eyes sparkling. 'I was a good kid, wasn't I, Tony? Come on, I NEVER did anything wrong!' She gave him a gentle push, inviting him to agree with her.
Tony shook his head, forcing bad memories of the previous year aside. 'Wasn't it you who wandered off in K-Mart, while mom was getting shoes for Bobby? We had to go to the front counter and announce we lost you, and they asked what you were wearing, and poor mom couldn't remember.' He found himself relaxing, laughing with the rest of them. You're ok, Almeida, as long as you're awake!
'How could I possibly remember what she was wearing?' their mother interrupted. 'Come on, I had six children with me, I barely remembered what we even needed, and I kept a real sharp eye on Marco, only it wasn't him who wandered off that time.'
'Yeah, Marco Polo,' Tony said, remembering the pet name for his brother when they were very young. 'He did have a habit of wandering away. Remember when a security guard found him riding the escalators when he was about two?'
'I don't know how we ever survived all of you,' his mother said, her eyes sparkling.
Tony shook his head gently. 'You loved every moment of it, mom,' he reminded her. 'We all did.' He noticed his parents exchanged glances, before they rose to clear the table.
'No, we'll do it. You two talk,' his father said, gathering up the plates. Tony walked down the passage to the family room, switching on the light. His laptop sat on the table and he pulled it shut, sitting in an armchair opposite his sister.
'So how's it going?' she asked, nodding her head at his computer. 'What are you still looking for, Tony? I thought all the men who laid the explosives were caught.'
'They were.' Tony gazed past the closed laptop to the glass door leading outside to a dark garden. 'I just can't understand it all. Something's still missing.'
'What?' Rita folded her arms, questioning him. He decided to run it by her, the most analytical one of his entire family.
'The entire fleet was on a three day exercise, right? All the bombers who were in the Navy were on Captain Melville's ship, and he came first on the second day, not the first. My question is, how did those terrorists in the port know which ship was coming in; they had to know in advance, Rita, if only a few minutes, to set the detonators. It was vital for them to berth in the right spot, or the bombs would go off without much damage.'
'Someone told them,' Rita answered automatically.
Tony nodded. 'Yeah, I keep coming to that conclusion myself. But here's the interesting part, those terrorists on the ship were all accounted for, none of them made a call.' He sighed heavily.
'Someone else made the call,' Rita told him, folding her arms. 'Someone who had live coverage of the war games and knew the moment Melville finished.'
'Yeah,' he agreed. 'But I've checked everyone on the ship that many times, no one else fits the role. And there were no out going calls during the 20 minutes it took them to reach port.' He sighed frustrated.
'So what about someone from defense, or intelligence?' Rita questioned.
Tony looked at her in silence for a while, nodding his head. 'A spy.' He couldn't bring himself to utter the word "traitor". 'Yeah, I guess it's the only remaining possibility. That's such a large group,' he shook his head. 'I guess I got a little time now to check it out.' It's not as though any of your job applications have been successful so far!
Rita looked concerned. 'Are you sure you wanna do that, Tony? You don't have that kind of security clearance, it would mean hacking in, and you're just out of prison. If you start looking in the wrong place you could piss a lot of people off, and they might arrest you.' Their eyes met across the room, holding each other's gaze. 'It's not worth it, Tony. Let someone else check it out.'
'There's no one else,' he told her gently. 'They're already satisfied with the twenty guys they arrested, they just assume one of them was lying and made the call and it just got missed.' He rubbed his face vigorously. 'No one is interested in pursuing the matter further. Michelle told me the case was closed!'
Rita stood up slowly and crossed the room, sitting close beside him. 'So why can't you follow their example, let it go?' she asked, putting her arm round him. 'We can't lose you again, Tony.'
Tony pulled her closer, giving her a hug. 'Hey, I can take care of myself,' he reminded her. 'Rita, if there is a spy somewhere, they're not just going to quit, you know. They'll be biding their time, planning another hit, probably on a soft target now, as our ships are on heightened alert. Soft target means civilians, Rita, people like you, with kids. I can't just ignore that.'
'Does Michelle know what you're doing?' she asked him, not surprised to see him shake his head. 'She'll chew you out when she finds out,' she told him, attempting to keep the conversation light.
'Yeah, you're probably right,' he agreed, falling silent as their parents entered the room.
The sound of approaching footsteps startled him hours later as he sat in the deserted family room, searching security files. Turning, he saw his father enter the room, shaking his head. 'Tony! What are you doing, at this hour? You'll never get over your cold if you don't sleep.'
Tony nodded, rubbing his eyes. 'I'm almost done, Papa.'
His father settled in an armchair, watching him. 'Antonio, I'm not stupid. I can see it keeps coming back to you when you sleep, but it will stop after a while, I promise. You're strong enough to face it, you're home now, and we're all here for you.'
Tony closed the laptop and settled next to his father. Sure he chewed me out last week for avoiding Michelle, spending the last coupla nights alone on the beach, but he was absolutely right. He was thinking of joining me in prison! He sighed quietly, leaning his head against the couch. 'I'm not,' he said, so softly his father barely heard him.
'You're not what, Tony?' he asked, concerned. 'Of course you're home, this will always be your home.'
Tony nodded. 'I know. I'm not strong enough.' He longed to pour himself a strong drink but remained on the couch, pressing his eyes shut. 'You should forget about me, Papa, I can't even seem to find a job! Marco's great, you can be real proud of him, Joey too.' His heart ached as he withheld Bobby's name.
'I'm real proud of all of you,' his father said, squeezing his shoulder. 'Especially you, Tony. You went through hell and you made it back. Now why don't you lie down and I'll bring a blanket, and you sleep a few hours?' Before Tony could protest his father left the room, returning with his blanket. He wrapped Tony up like the tired child he resembled, sitting beside him. 'Close your eyes, Antonio. You're gonna sleep well tonight. Do you remember the time I met your principal in Chicago, Ms, oh, I don't remember her name?'
Tony's shoulders lost a little of their rigidity and he settled comfortably. 'Yeah,' he answered, smiling in the darkness. 'I do. Why exactly did you go there, Papa? What did I do?'
His father stroked his hair, smiling quietly. 'Keep your eyes shut and I'll tell you. It was nothing to do with you, it was your mom. She felt sorry for you missing out on everything, so she took you to visit all her friends to play with the children. Your principal wrote demanding to know why you were missing so much school, and your mom said she couldn't face going there, so she sent me. We went to her office together, you and me…'
'And Ms Emerson was a little harsh in her description of foreigners,' Tony remembered.
'She was. She told me I obviously don't seem to understand the education system, so I got a little mad and told her I obviously don't, would she enlighten me. My son can read and write, he can do simple arithmetic, he knows all the countries in the world apart from in Africa which we hadn't covered yet, he knows a bit about the great civilizations, what have you taught him? And then she got even more annoyed and sent you out when you started laughing, and…'
'And she said school is about building social skills, about interaction,' Tony interrupted. 'I was listening outside, I heard it all. And then you said, "ah, you mean playing with other children? We have plenty of friends, trust me!"'
His father laughed aloud. 'Did I say that? Ah well, she insulted me first, I was quite prepared to apologize for your poor attendance. Still, I did promise you'd come more often, and then I took you to your class.'
'And when we were in the corridor you said you take it that this lady is not married, and that she never will be, with that voice! And then you said she's a pain in the arse!'
Tony's father laughed louder. 'And I asked you right afterwards to forget I just said that. How come you still remember?'
Tony joined in the laughter. 'Are you kidding? I'll remember that scene as long as I know my own name! It was great!' He felt his father stroking his hair gently and he fell silent, drifting off to sleep.