Author's Note: Just to clarify, since there seemed to be some confusion with the first chapter, this is an AU. And, as such, I'm taking some extreme liberties with the details of both shows' respective canons, including the timelines.
August 22, 1984 – Long Island, New York
Tony DiNozzo looked up at the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut, and he watched his brother stalk across the room to drop onto his bed with a dramatic sigh.
"They're fighting, again," Logan groaned, his voice muffled from where his face was buried in the bedcovers.
"They're always fighting," Tony pointed out, and his twin lifted his head to give him a withering look.
"Mom threw a plate at Dad's head," the thirteen year old told him. "It missed him by about a couple of inches."
"So, he's getting better at ducking," Tony said, and a tiny smirk crept across Logan's face before he sobered, again.
"Do you think they're ever going to stop?" he asked, plaintively.
"Maybe when one of them is dead," Tony muttered, blushing when Logan glared at him.
The sound of a slamming door cut off whatever he was about to say, though, and Logan sighed when they heard a car engine starting up in the distance.
"There goes Dad," he groaned, flopping back onto the bed and throwing his arm over his eyes.
"And, there goes Mom," Tony sighed, when another door slammed a few seconds later. "Ten bucks says that they forgot we were even in the house."
"No bet," Logan grumbled. "What are we going to do about dinner?"
"I'll cook," Tony said, shrugging dismissively. "Or, we could order pizza or something."
When Logan didn't answer, he turned his attention back to the book he'd been reading before his brother had burst in. Logan was ominously silent, and Tony kept sneaking glances over the top of his book to make sure that he was okay. They sat in silence for a while, and then Logan spoke up.
"Do you think Mom and Dad are going to get divorced?" he asked.
"I think the question is when they're going to get divorced," Tony pointed out.
"Who do you think we're going to live with when it's all over?" Logan asked, and Tony shrugged.
"Dad probably keeps the divorce papers in his office," he said, and Logan bounced off the bed.
"What are we waiting for?" he demanded, pulling Tony to his feet and toward the door. "Let's go."
"Dad keeps his office locked," Tony pointed out, but he let himself be dragged downstairs, anyway.
True to his prediction, the door to their father's office was locked, but Tony went into the kitchen and grabbed a paperclip out of the junk drawer. Straightening the thin piece of metal, he crouched down in front of the door and started fiddling with the lock.
He listened, carefully, as he worked, and then he grinned in triumph when he heard the last of the tumblers click into place.
"Got it," he said, happily, standing and pushing the door open.
"Where did you learn to pick locks, anyway?" Logan asked, as they entered their father's office.
"It's amazing what you can learn when you hang around the police station all day," Tony told him. "Where do you think Dad keeps the divorce papers?"
"Probably the file cabinet," Logan pointed out, earning an eye roll from Tony.
Logan started going through the file cabinet, pouring over the contents of each drawer, while Tony went through the papers scattered across the surface of their father's desk.
"What do you think the chances are that neither of them want us?" Tony asked, curiously, as he kept searching. "Maybe neither of them want custody, and they're sending us to live with Aunt Grace, instead."
"We can only hope," Logan retorted. "Hey, this drawer is locked," he added, a few seconds later when he tugged on the bottom drawer of the file cabinet.
"Well, it's not because of the divorce papers," Tony answered, holding up a file folder in triumph. "Because those are right here."
"What's it say?" Logan asked, abandoning the locked file cabinet for the time being.
"Divorce settlement of Anthony DiNozzo, Senior and Patricia Cale-DiNozzo," Tony read, as his brother leaned over his shoulder and scanned the document along with him. "Let's see, custody, custody-"
"Right there," Logan interjected, pointing to a paragraph halfway down the second page. "Custody of minor children."
"Okay," Tony said, scanning the paragraph. "Custody of the oldest child-"
"Oldest child?" Logan echoed. "They're splitting us up."
"We don't know that," Tony said, before his brother could start to get worked up. "Custody of the oldest child, Anthony DiNozzo, Junior," he continued, before Logan could say anything else, "goes to Anthony DiNozzo, Senior."
"So, you're stuck with Dad," Logan grumbled.
"Custody of the youngest child, Logan DiNozzo," Tony went on, "goes to Patricia Cale-DiNozzo."
"They are splitting us up," Logan said, bitterly. "This sucks."
"There's more," Tony said, giving up on the divorce settlement and snatching their father's planner off of the corner of his desk. "The court date is in two days."
"When do you think they were planning on telling us?" Logan asked.
"Probably the morning of the court appearance," Tony said, angrily. "You're right. This sucks."
"Maybe it won't be so bad," Logan offered, trying to be optimistic. "We'll still get to see each other."
"Not likely," Tony told him. "They hate each other; I can't see them overcoming that just for us."
"Are you sure we can't just run away and go live with Aunt Grace?" Logan asked, groaning.
"They'd probably find us and drag us back just because they could," Tony pointed out. Leaning back in his father's chair, he added, "So, if the divorce settlement was sitting on his desk, then why is that drawer locked?"
"What does it matter?" Logan asked.
"It matters because I'm dying of curiosity," Tony told him.
Pushing the chair away from the desk, Tony crouched down in front of the file cabinet, pulling the straightened paper clip out of his pocket. He worked on the lock for a few seconds, grinning when the drawer popped open.
"Damn, I'm good," he declared, and Logan swatted him on the back of the head.
"What are you doing?" his brother demanded, and Tony shrugged.
"Going through Dad's things," he said, flippantly. "You can't tell me you're not dying to know what he's got locked up in here."
"Maybe," Logan admitted, grudgingly, and that was all Tony needed.
He dug through the contents of the drawer, pulling files out and setting them aside as he scanned the contents of each folder.
"Most of this is just work stuff," he said, setting the file folders in a pile on the floor beside him.
"How do you know?" Logan wanted to know as he set aside another folder after looking through it quickly.
"Dad's hoping that I'll follow him into the family business and take over after he retires," Tony answered. "So, he lets me look at stuff from time to time, trying to get me interested."
"Why's he locking away business papers?" Logan asked. "I mean, why not keep them at the office?"
"No clue," Tony told him. "This one isn't work stuff, though," he added, a few seconds later. "What the heck is a Manticore?"
"It's a mythological beast with the body of a lion and the head of a human," Logan answered, automatically, and Tony rolled his eyes.
"How do you know this stuff?" he demanded.
"Because I read," Logan retorted, with an eye roll of his own. "Unlike some people I could name."
"Hey, I read," Tony said, defensively.
"The biography of Clint Eastwood is not the kind of book I was talking about," Logan said, referring to the book that Tony had been reading when he'd come into his brother's room.
"Oh, shut up," Tony grumbled, turning back to the contents of the file folder. "Project Manticore," he said, before Logan could say anything. "Well, whatever it is, Dad's been funneling a lot of money into it."
"Give me that," Logan said, snatching the papers from his hands. "This Manticore thing is being funded by the Army," he went on, reading through the papers.
"The United States Army?" Tony asked, surprised. "Dad's always preaching about the evils of working with the government. He's not about to go and accept some government contract, not with the company's money."
"Well, Dad's not practicing what he preaches," Logan said, dryly. "And, besides, it doesn't look like he's using the company's money, anyway."
"Then what?" Tony asked, craning his neck over to look at the papers.
"Our trust funds," Logan said, reading on. "Dad's using our trust funds to fund his little pet project."
"But, what the heck is it?" Tony demanded, irritably. "What is so important about this Project Manticore that Dad is willing to compromise his own beliefs and throw in with the government?"
At the sound of a door slamming outside, Logan hastily shoved the papers back into the file folder, shoving the folder back into the drawer. He and Tony shoved the rest of the folders back into the drawer and slammed it shut. Then, Tony scattered the papers on the desk around, approximating the mess that had been there when they'd come in, and they bolted out of the office.
They sprinted up the stairs and paused at the landing, watching as their father entered his office, a bottle of Jack Daniels dangling from his fist. The door slammed shut behind him, and Tony let out a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding.
"Well, whatever the heck Project Manticore is," Logan spoke up, "we're not going to find out about it, today."
"Or, maybe ever," Tony said, darkly. "Remember, we're getting split up in two days."
"How could I forget?" Logan retorted, and with a sigh, the boys hauled themselves to their feet and went up to Tony's room.