The Iron Butterfly
By Wyndhamfan
Note: Oops. Kill me, but I found this chapter sitting in my laptop unpublished. Argh! (My laptop died a few months back, and I thought it was lost. And that's the main reason for my creative block:P) So I'm glad to present you this chapter. I'm sorry to have made you guys wait for so long, truly I am. But I promise you that the Iron Butterfly is coming to an end soon. Just one or two more chapters to go. See ya!
CHAPTER 11
He was in his parents' hated apartment on Fifth Avenue. They were having one of the 'social' parties they have about a gazillion times a year. If he was good, the nanny would bring him out for a while to meet the guests while his father could pretend being fatherly for a while.
He hated how his father would act so nice and warm and all that and ruffle his hair. Without guests around to watch his performance, he'd usually leave him to the able and well-paid hands of his nanny. If he was lucky, he'd see his father to give him a report of his day.
So, he usually slipped off. And when he did that, he would pretend to be Invisible Boy, quietly watching the antics of the grown ups – because that's what would happen anyway. People would stop noticing him, busy as they were with schmoozing each other.
There was his mother, talking to Carla Simmons. Mom called her "old money", and Tony wondered why someone so young could be considered old and why she is supposed to look like money.
"So, that's what you're going to do. Throw away everything and be a cop."
"You make it sound as if it's a bad thing. Dad."
He recognized the voices, and when he looked up, he saw himself – only about fifteen years later. Which was weird because there he was seven years old, and watching his 22-year-old self getting a dreaded dressing down from DiNozzo Sr.
"You are a DiNozzo, Tony. You are destined to take over the bank – the bank has not left DiNozzo hands for two generations!"
His father was holding a glass of champagne. A ridiculously romantic drink at a time like this. He saw his older self swallow nervously and stiffen.
"Banking, Dad? Did you see how I did in Math?"
"Always the one with the mouth, aren't you?" said his father bitterly as he placed the champagne glass aside. "Get the stupid idea of yours out of your head. You're going to Harvard this fall, and that's final."
This time, he didn't restrain his anger. "Study some more, Dad? I'd rather spend the rest of my life in a dentist's chair! I'm going to the Academy. And that's final."
"Oh, is that so?" his father's voice dipped dangerously. It used to scare the hell out of him, but at that moment, it was fuel to his anger.
"Yeah, that's so. Father." Quickly, before he lost his nerve, he turned to walk out of his father's oppressive study.
From the seven-year-old Tony's viewpoint, he could see DiNozzo Sr's jaw working and his pale blue eyes turning glacier cold.
"Walk out of that door, Tony. And I'll cut you off. And we will not speak again until you turn back from this foolhardy plan."
He turned, amazed at the threat. Just how far would his father go to win this battle? All his life his father had bent him to his will and he always won, but this time he wasn't going to let his father win. If he did not make a stand now, his life will no longer be his … but his father's.
"Suits me just fine. Goodbye, Dad." And he had turned away.
"You're going to end up in the gutter," his father muttered bitterly.
The words stung him more than he thought it would. But he had forced himself to walk on, ignoring the veil of tears in his eyes.
His father was as good as his word. That very same afternoon, he was notified by their lawyers that he had been cut off from his father's will. His bank account was also cleared, not a single penny was left.
His dream self watched the worst fight he had ever had with his father numbly. It wasn't something he'd like to replay in his mind. For years, he had deliberately shut thoughts about his family away from his mind. The last time he saw his father was at his mother's funeral, and they didn't speak. Tony had left a white rose on her coffin. His father watched him from afar, then walked off with his entourage – with his new heir-apparent to the bank by his side.
Replaced, just like that.
"Don't leave!" he found himself calling out to the retreating figure. "You're going to regret it!"
The older Tony didn't listen to him.
"You've got to warn them! Don't leave! It's in New York!"
Then he was suddenly the older Tony, looking at the young Tony. His seven-year-old self was pointing at the window, where his father now stood, nursing his drink.
Puzzled, he looked at the younger DiNozzo for some kind of clue until he felt the room heating up. It was getting hot, really hot. Confused, he looked at the boy for a clue.
"What is going on?" he asked the boy.
Tony looked and him beseechingly, then carefully said: "Our soldiers are in place, and when New York blows, the unlawful regime will notice."
And he saw the buildings outside on fire. Horrified, he yelled at his father to come away from the window, but the man gazed at the burning building as if they were attractions at the Mardi Gras.
And then the window exploded and he turned his head away to avoid the flying shards.
He emerged from his dream with a stifled cry.
"Hey, shh! Easy, easy. It's just a dream," someone said. He felt someone grab his hand.
Disoriented, he pulled his hand away from the too-hot touch and shivered.
"Who … what?"
He saw a silhouette lean towards him. A woman, that much he knew. But the terror from the dream was still too real. All he could do was stare at the shadow as he took gulping breaths, waiting for his heart to resume a normal tempo.
"That's some dream you had," said the visitor.
He recognized the voice finally. "Paula?" he rasped, confused.
Special Agent Paula Cassidy leaned forward so that he could see her more clearly. "Yeah, it's me."
"What are you doing here?"
She smiled at him as if he'd just asked a stupid question. "I happened to be at NCIS headquarters. Was trying my best to avoid you, only someone told me that I didn't have to bother. You were here, in the hospital." Her expression turned serious. "So I came."
His heartbeat finally slowed down. But he could still feel the heat of the flames.
"You're not doing a very good job of avoiding me," he said dryly.
She gave him a crooked grin. "Well. I was never very good at saying no to you," she murmured, her expression serious.
"How are you feeling?" she asked after a while when it seemed as if he had gotten his bearings back.
"I feel weird," he rasped. And it suddenly hit him like a tonne of bricks.
"He said New York!" he exclaimed, sitting up.
Or at least tried to. The wires he was attached to made the enterprise more than a little awkward. But what really did him in was the sudden nausea that attacked him. He sank back with a groan.
"What the hell are you doing, DiNozzo? You are not exactly in shape to walk out of here if you noticed," Paula snapped, pushing him down with a hand on his chest.
He grabbed Paula's hand. "Paula, you've gotta get Gibbs."
She frowned in confusion. "Why?"
"New York. I heard Tims said that they're going to blow up New York."
A shadow of understanding crossed Cassidy's face. "You mean the terrorist attacks that Gibbs was working on? It's over. They managed to stop the operation at Capitol Hill."
"No, not there. It's New York, I'm sure of it."
"Tony. You've been in a coma for three days. You must've gotten it conf-"
"You don't understand. I finally remembered what happened!"
Paula looked taken aback. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I remember…" he murmured.
He stirred, aware of the pain that was throbbing in his head. In his shoulder. Everywhere. Was he dying? Finally? Is this how dying felt like? His father said that he would come to a bad end. He supposed DiNozzo Sr was right. Again.
"…can hear me, Agent DiNozzo?"
He winced, recognizing the voice of Ed … Tim's partner. Probably going to finish him off since he realized that there was a spark of life left in him.
"…sorry, DiNozzo, that I didn't stop him earlier. Never thought he'd be so reckless and stupid."
Ed is sorry? A little too late, he thought.
"Listen. In case I don't make it and you do. Tims doesn't know anything. She made sure that he didn't. It's not Capitol Hill. It's not New York city either. What, do you think she's that crazy? It's a New York county. Saratoga. She said it is a place she hated the most."
Tony's eyes widened.
"Saratoga."
Paula frowned. "What?"
"It's somewhere in Saratoga county, in the place she hated the most!" Tony yelled.
"Stop yelling. I hear you," she said, taking out her cell phone, already dialing Gibbs.
"Do you know who this 'she' is?" Tony asked desperately.
Paula smiled at that. "I don't, but I have a good idea that Gibbs does."
TBC … two more chapters to go! Creative block gone now that I found this chapter. Yahoo….