Tall Trees and Sea Monkeys
Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
A/N: Thank you to all who took the time to review and I hope you enjoy this last chapter.
"I want the truth Anthony!" his father turned toward him, angry colour heating his handsome face as he speared his son with an accusing glare. That he had already decided which version of the 'truth' he preferred was obvious and Tony felt his stomach clench as the pain of being thought a liar by his own father hit him like a low blow.
Standing just behind her husband's shoulder, Tony's stepmother allowed herself a moment to gloat and he watched as a glimmer of triumph flashed in her dark eyes and a satisfied smile curled the corner of her beautiful mouth. As her husband's gaze flicked toward her, she carefully schooled her features into the pained expression that she had been wearing for the last ten minutes.
"I'm sorry Anthony darling. I really am. I just don't know what to do with the boy," she put one long, red tipped finger to the corner of her eye as though wiping away an errant tear. "I've tried to be a good Mamma to him but he just pushes me away," she simpered, before moving in for the kill. "Maybe that military school we were looking at would be just the thing to instill some discipline and teach him to be more grateful?"
Tony looked with disbelief from his father's angry face to the woman who had been his stepmother for the last 4 months. She had ruined everything!
He had known from the moment his father had brought her home and announced that they were to be married, that any hope he had of having a proper father/son relationship with his dad was doomed. The beautiful and statuesque Donatella Fabrizi, had glided on her 3 inch Pollini heels, into the large marble foyer of the DiNozzo mansion, her eyes greedily placing a value on every stick of furniture, every painting on the walls, every priceless antique and her face lit up with a dazzling smile. She was like a cat with a saucer of cream.
Until she had spied Tony, that is. She had flinched with distaste at the sight of the boy, as though he was a bug that had crawled out from under the lounge and rubbed her hand down the side of her designer pantsuit to remove the feel of his small handshake.
From that time on she had plotted to paint Tony as scheming and rebellious in his father's eyes and unfortunately for Tony, his normally astute father, swallowed her poison without question.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself son?" his father demanded. "Don't just stand there with that impertinent look on your face."
"What's the point Father? You never believe me anyway," Tony replied quietly and lowered his eyes to stare unseeingly at the tiled floor.
"That settles it then. I will make some calls in the morning to Rhode Island Military Academy and see about having you transferred immediately. We'll see if they can do anything with you. God knows I haven't had any success."
Tony's head whipped up as his father's words registered and shock ripped through him.
"NO! I won't go to your stupid school and you can't make me!" he screamed at his father. He couldn't believe that his father would actually send him away because of her. "I'll run away before I go."
And with that, Tony turned on his heel and raced out of the house into the night, sprinting across the south lawn and down the park like estate until he came to his favourite place and began to climb. Frantically he scrambled from branch to branch, as though by doing so, he could leave behind the pain and feelings of betrayal that had wrapped around his heart and threatened to stop its beating.
Angry tears stung his eyes and streaked down his cheeks and his chest hurt from the exertion as his hands blindly sought and gripped each branch, his legs pushing him ever higher.
Finally he reached the top; he settled his back along the thinning trunk and braced his feet against a sturdy branch. Closing his eyes, he allowed the cooling caress of the evening breeze against his face to help him relax and concentrated on slowing his breathing.
Once calm, he opened his eyes and turned his head toward the big white house in the distance. There were no lights tonight; the family might be out for the evening or maybe away on vacation. Try as he might to concentrate on the house and the family who lived inside, his thoughts kept drifting back to his own home and he recalled how his life had change in the last two years.
Immediately after his Mamma's death, Tony's father had taken to working from his home office. He arranged for his assistant to come to the house each day and they would work for long hours into the night. The sound of constantly ringing telephones and the tap, tap, tap of his PA's long nails on her computer keyboard, became a familiar sound as it emanated from the large book - lined study.
Visits to the towering city office building that housed the New York headquarters of the DiNozzo Corporation were few, business trips were replaced by conference calls and social invitations were often declined as Anthony DiNozzo Snr worked to regain the trust and affection of his small son.
On weekends, he took to trailing the boy along with him to his Civil War re-enactment - something that Tony quickly grew to hate - in the hope that they could find a common interest to share. Unfortunately, rather than allow the boy to don a uniform and beat a drum or wave a flag like all the others, Tony usually ended up carting around the 'poop' bucket, a task he most definitely did not enjoy, and very soon he began to avoid these outings at all cost. His father took his reluctance as a sign of rejection and the invitations to join him were not renewed.
Tony discovered that he had a natural ability for sports, particularly basketball and football, and tried to interest his father to help him train or watch him play. DiNozzo's aversion to any ball –game, other than golf, was strong and he instead suggested that Tony's time would be better spent at his studies.
Although he was physically closer to the boy, they just couldn't seem to find any common ground and any displays of affection between them were awkward and forced.
Over time, his father started being drawn back into his city office more and more, the overseas business trips became more frequent and Tony was left with whoever was available at the time, be it the gardener, Sofia the housekeeper, his father's PA, or one time, a junior accountant in his father's office.
Then one day, his father had brought home Donatella and their fragile relationship took a spiraling nosedive.
A slight vibration through the branches and a soft scuffing noise cut across his private reverie and dragged his attention back to the present. He looked down and saw a dark shape moving cautiously from branch to branch, climbing ever closer to where Tony sat, perched at the top of the old pine tree. A cold hand of fear clutched at his gut and he drew and held a shaking breath. Looking around in panic he saw the blinking lights of a police vehicle in the front drive.
How long had he been up here anyway? He wondered. The damp air had made his clothes feel cold and wet and he gave a small shudder as a chill ran down his back.
"Who's there?" he asked with a shaky little voice and the dark shape stopped momentarily.
"Tony? I had a hunch I'd find you up here," the voice answered from below.
The breath that Tony had been holding came out in a rush as he recognised the voice of his friend, Officer Michael Turner.
"Michael? What are you doing up here? What's going on?" Tony asked confused by the police officer's presence.
"Well I was going to ask you the same question, Tony. Dispatch got a call a couple of hours ago about a runaway and I recognised the address," the officer replied as he moved closer and settled against a sturdy branch. "Talk to me, Tony,…….what's happened?"
Tony closed his eyes for a brief moment and lowered his chin to his chest. Just as Michael thought he was going to have to pry an answer out of the boy, he answered in a small voice. "My Dad doesn't want me anymore. Everything was…well things were a bit better than, you know, than before. Before my Mamma…" he stuttered in reply. "We were working it out."
He knew how hard it was for the boy to talk about his mother's death and the relationship that existed between him and his father. "Go on, Tony," Michael encouraged.
"She hates me! My dad's new wife," he explained. "She gives me dirty looks when my dad's not looking and she tells him lies about me."
"Why would she do that, Tony?" the young officer asked quietly, although having just met the new Mrs. DiNozzo at the front door, he had his suspicions.
"She just wants him all to herself. She's really mean. She told my dad all about this private school in Rhode Island and he says he's going to send me there," Michael grimaced as he heard the fear in the young boy's voice.
"Tony, I hear your dad raised all kinds of hell when they couldn't find you this evening. He practically ordered a state-wide search," Tony looked up at this, disbelieving. "That's a pretty good indication to me that he cares about what happens to you. Maybe at the moment he can't see clearly, but he will come to realise the truth soon enough."
"But I won't know anyone there. What if they don't like me?"
"Hey, Tony, maybe it won't be so bad," the officer tried to reason with him. "I hear some of those schools are a whole lot of fun and I'm sure you'll make some real good friends. They have great sports programs too!"
Michael had made it a point, to try to catch up with Tony at least once a month, more often than not, at Tony's school basketball games. He wanted to make certain that someone was there to see him play and to encourage him. The fact that the boy's own father was never there to cheer him on from the side lines, he knew, was a constant source of heartache for the kid. Tony would search the stands throughout the game, hoping for a glimpse of his dad, but he was usually disappointed.
"But if I go to Rhode Island I'll never see you again, will I?" he asked. "It's miles away."
"Yes it is a long way but it's not forever. What about school holidays? You'll be coming home won't you?"
Tony nodded and they sat in silence for a few moments, each of them thinking about the coming months and how they would miss the other one.
"Do you like being a police officer, Michael?" Tony asked suddenly, changing the subject.
"Yes. Yes I do, Tony. Sometimes it's very sad and I see some terrible things, but other times I get to meet really nice people who are having a tough time and I get to help them out. That's a great feeling."
"Is that why you came here tonight?" the boy asked quietly.
"I came here, Tony, because we're friends, and friends watch out for each other."
Tony was silent a moment while he savoured Michael's words and gradually, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You know, my dad wants me to be a businessman like him and work in an office all day long. But I'm going to be a professional basketball player."
Michael grinned and reached out a hand to ruffle the boy's hair. "Tony, I think you can be whatever you want to be and when you're playing NBL, I'll expect courtside seats!"
Tony grinned. "You'll have them."
"Come on then. Let's get you home before your father calls out the National Guard."
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A few days later, Tony stood on the front steps and watched as the chauffer loaded his suitcases into the trunk.
After his long talk with Officer Michael that night, he'd returned to the house to find his father furiously pacing back and forth in the foyer. Tony had taken one look at the expression on his father's face and beaten a hasty retreat to his room.
Over the next couple of days, he waited on tenterhooks for his punishment. He'd half expected a spanking, or at the very least, a dressing down but instead he was treated to an icy silence and cold, disapproving stares that were far worse. The blatant disappointment in his father's eyes and his refusal to even speak to Tony made him almost relieved when the day finally dawned for him to leave for his new school.
The driver opened the rear door and Tony climbed into the back of the car, twisting around to watch out the back window.
Surely his father was coming to wave goodbye?
The car slowly moved off, its tyres crunching on the long graveled drive as it wound it's way to the front gate.
Through the rear window, Tony thought he saw a curtain move in the window of his father's study.
The car pulled onto the winding main road and accelerated as it headed toward the highway. From the backseat, Tony continued to stare back at his house until it was out of sight, he drew a shaky breath before squaring his shoulders and turning to face the front.
He wondered if there would be any pine trees at his new school.