N/A: Thank you loyal readers.
Thank you Beta Mike91848
Ziva, what is wrong with you?
CINDERELLA Revisited
Chapter Twenty Eight
Anthony DiNozzo had a special romantic night planned for Margret and himself. He was going to get down on one knee and propose marriage, offer her the perfect ring he had spent three weeks looking for, and expect the best. Too bad it didn't work out that way.
When he picked her up at the airport, he was nervous, she seemed a little quiet and preoccupied. Something was off but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He brought her back to his house for dinner and he burned the chicken Piccata. She didn't want the excellent wine he had picked out or any other beverage except water. The chocolate Eclair cake with the diamond ring embedded went uneaten as she claimed she was tired and wanted to take a shower and go to bed early.
Tony sat on the sofa in the darkened living room. The TV was muted and a bottle of Vodka and a half full glass were on the coffee table. It was over. She didn't want him. He knew the signs. She had found someone else or just got tired of him. It was the story of his life. He sipped from his drink, already feeling the effects of the hard liquor. Soon he'd be a slobbering, blubbering boob, drowning in self-pity and still alive with a deadened heart.
Tony had no other choice but to grant her wish and leave her alone for now. It'd be ironic if he had turned into his father and loved a woman who grew to hate him. He wasn't a stalker, he wouldn't force himself on her but he could already feel the emptiness creeping into his soul.
All his happy plans of a home and future with her down the drain. Life was too cruel. He drowned in more Vodka and self-pity. It wouldn't be worth getting up in the morning without her by his side. And he didn't know how he could fix it, make himself what she wanted, make her love him again. One sob escaped in his drunken state; had this been how his father had felt? Was he repeating the pattern and did he deserve this because he couldn't forgive his father?
Suddenly the light went on and he and the room were exposed to all knowing unseen hostile eyes uncovering and unprotecting his pitiful soul.
"Tony, we need to talk." Those hated five words. He stared at her standing in the doorway so beautiful and voluptuous with her lustrous hair down around her face and clothed in her no-nonsense flannel pajamas and his big leather slippers.
"Okay, Margret, whatever you say." He was definitely inebriated, slurring his words so even he couldn't understand himself but he had only drank a...whoa, pretty much the whole bottle of Vodka? Was the bottle already opened when he started to drink or was this a new bottle. He looked on the floor to see if he had spilled some of the liquid, but no, the floor was as dry as his empty life was going to be from this day forward.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, he leaned over too far checking under the coffee table for the non-existent spilled liquor and kept going forward until his head conked on the table edge and he lay sprawled on the floor in a heap.
"TONY!"
"Yeah?" At least he thought that's what he said.
"Oh my God, are you alright?"
"No, and I don't want to talk. If you're going to leave me just go back to bed and I'll call a cab in the morning." She hadn't understood a word he was slurring.
"What are you talking about? You're drunk and pathetically so, I might add. What is wrong with you drinking by yourself out here? I fell asleep while waiting for you and you're out here drinking yourself blind in the dark after I told you I wanted to talk to you! Get up off the floor you're bleeding, you imbecile. Give me that!"
She continued to scold, batter and berate as she took the vodka filled glass out of his hand that he had managed not to spill on his clumsy trip to the floor. She manhandled him onto the sofa and rushed to get a wet towel for the small cut on his forehead.
"I'm pathetic? I'll show you pathetic but first call an ambulance. I think I've got a concussion I'm all dizzy and nauseous." And whining childishly.
"You're drunk, Tony, not concussed." She yelled some more at him from the kitchen but even that far away the sound reverberated through his abused head and down to his sickened stomach. He moaned as he lay back on the sofa then sat up quickly as he felt the alcohol start on its way back up. Just in time, Margret thrust a bucket in his face as his foul smelling stomach contents erupted forcefully into the container. Margret turned green at the sight and smell and thankfully had had nothing much to eat tonight or she would have joined him. The bottle of water he swallowed ended up in the bucket also but it cleared his mouth of the foul taste.
Groaning and gagging Tony eventually expelled most of the alcohol he had tried to poison himself with and now leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed in utter defeat and misery. Margret had removed his shoes and socks and thrown a quilt over his legs and he could tell how thoroughly disgusted she was with his antics when she boxed both of his ears gently because he was going to have one killer headache already.
Margret came back into the room with a pot of coffee and a cup and poured a generous amount minus sugar and cream. Tony took a gulp and made a face but didn't say anything as he managed to finish the Gibbs-strength brew in a few more gulps. Margret poured more coffee into the cup and then sat on the sofa and cuddled next to him.
"Feeling better, Tony, my love? What's going on?" At Tony's lackluster shrug she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a sweet grin. "Talk to me, babe." He turned his head and opened one bleary eye in her direction then took a closer look at her face and cringed at his own stupidity but gave a sigh of relief anyway.
"I'm a fool, you're not leaving me."
"No, I'm not leaving you, you idiot. Why would you even think that?"
"Cause I'm a fool and an idiot, you just said it. And what's with the name calling, anyway? Just because I take your preoccupation personally and blow it up into a major angst pity party vodka swilling binge, crack my head on the coffee table, and almost vomit in your lap is no reason to..."
"Tony, I'm pregnant. With twins."
"What?"
"Don't act like you didn't hear me. The condom broke, remember?"
"The condom broke?"
"At the Bed and Breakfast, ring a bell?"
"The Bed and Breakfast?"
"Yes and twins is the result."
"Twins is the result?"
She snapped him on his batman band-aided forehead with two fingers. "Is anyone in there? Would you quit repeating everything I say and say something original!"
And he cringed again at the loud yelling. Okay, he might be a little tipsy and cravenly grateful for the 'she wasn't leaving him' bone she had just thrown at him but...they needed to back up. His shocker should have come first.
"Could we have some cake?"
"What?"
"Cake. On the buffet?"
"The cake on the buffet?"
"Now who's repeating herself?"
"Oh for the love of...I tell him we're having twins and he wants cake...fine." And with a huff she gets up to bring the cake. There's an unnecessary amount of rattling of plates and cutlery before she hurries back and places everything on the coffee table.
"Tony, I've been thinking. Maybe you do have a concussion, you're acting weird. Let's get your shoes on and I'll take you to the hospital for an x-ray. Oh god, what if I waited too long and now you're bleeding into your brain. We'd better..."
Tony pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her passionately, leaving no doubt in her mind that he was not, in fact, concussed.
"Well." She said flustered like a school girl, his obsession over the cake wiped completely out of her mind.
"Let's cut the cake." Tony managed to lift himself and Margret down onto the floor next to the coffee table but spoiled the effect when he bumped into the cake and knocked it over. They both watched it fall to the floor in slow motion as the cake splattered and the icing dripped. Tony thought for sure someone or something was out to get him. Why is this happening to me? Karma for the tiny little harmless prank I played on McGee involving a phony cigar and peanut butter the other day? Abby hexed me for disturbing her man? What?
In the meantime, Margret had seen something sparkling and shiny in the cake mess on the floor. "What in the hell is that?" Climbing over him, she carelessly jammed her knee into his private parts but continued on to her goal as he grunted in pain. Reaching into the chocolaty gooey mix, she grabbed onto the shiny item and yanked it free.
Now Margret wasn't a shrieking hysterical sort of gal but she let out a sound that felt like it broke the rest of his head open. "It's a ring, Tony, it's a ring. Yes, I'll marry you. Yes, yes, yes!" She threw herself on him, and she wasn't a small woman, as he still lay semi-sprawled on the floor, smearing chocolate sugary blobs of cake and icing all over him, and covered his face with kisses as he fell back and felt his back shift and groan.
Ow! But a satisfied grin plastered his face. Okay, that went well. Mission accomplished, the deed was done.
Later when they had both calmed down and he expressed how happy she had made him and how happy the two little babies had made him, he asked her why she had waited so long to tell him.
"Cowardliness? She joked. "But no, not really. You had gotten sick, and the aggravation with Ziva at work, Angela was still being a pain in the butt. It just never seemed the right time. Plus, I'm no spring chicken and turning forty and having my first child...children, well, I guess I wanted the doctor to say she could see their little hearts beating before I told you. I was one of a twin but my brother died in the womb. It was wrong I know, but..."
"You're right it was wrong. We're in this together. No secrets, agreed?"
"Agreed."
"There's just one thing. I'm putting my choice in now. If it's a girl, I want her to have the name Greta, first or middle name, after you. And if it's a boy, Anthony will be the only name on the face of this planet that will not be going on his birth certificate."
She laughed mischievously. "Really, no Tony the third? Antoine, Antinmony?"
"Hell No, no, no! And screw any other derivatives you can come up with. I mean it Margret, I'm the man in this house and I'm putting my big foot down about that, my big foot, my big mouth and my big...whatever it's gonna take, that name is cursed and maligned, evil and corrupted..."
"All right, my darling man of the house, calm down. No Anthony. But how about Antigonus, Anthrax, Antal, Ant...?"
Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis
Ziva did not feel she could work with Adams. She could not abide his high handed issuing of orders when Gibbs was not present as though he had the right to tell her what to do. She was used to doing things a certain way, Gibbs' way. Adams assigned her tasks that the new agent should be doing, not she, a veteran NCIS agent. Surely she had some rights and say in how things should be carried out when Gibbs wasn't there.
For instance, when Gibbs had gone to talk to the police Captain without assigning his team duties and Adams was searching through the back of the truck, she had told the Probie to take pictures and she had started towards the few witnesses standing on the sidewalk.
Adams had stuck his head out of the back of the truck and called her back. "Agent David, where are you going?" She almost didn't stop to answer him but thought better of it and returned to the truck.
"I assigned the Probie to take pictures while I go to interview the witnesses since you were busy in the back of the truck."
"I see. Well there is a change of plans. Please retrieve the camera and take the pictures and mark the evidence. If we're not finished when you're done with that, please start collecting the evidence. I found paper bags in the back which I prefer over plastic bags as they collect less debris to contaminate the evidence."
"And where will you and Lewis be?"
"Lewis needs more experience interviewing without stammering or saying the wrong things."
Adams had been patient explaining this to her as he jumped from the truck, which she found reasonable and took it as an admission that she was an equal to him and entitled to be in the know.
"Very well." She gave her tacit approval. This would work as long as he understood that she would obey his orders once they were run by her first.
As she turned away he called her back again.
"Agent David, I don't mind explaining things to you as we go along since you appear to be lacking in basic protocol and hands-on experience. Time willing, I have no problem teaching as we go, however, there will be situations where I deem it unfeasible or inappropriate to stop in the middle of an investigation to soothe your feathers. As long as that is understood, we should have no problems."
Explaining things to her, lacking in protocol and experience, teaching her? She felt her blood boil. When he felt it feasible or appropriate he would sit-rep her, otherwise, she was to say, yes sir, and go blindly forward following his orders?
"And the next time you feel the need to assign duties to the Probie. Don't! That is not your job. This is your one and only warning! Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
You bastard! I will never obey you!
"Perfectly, Agent Adams."
"Good. Back to work."
She never knew how much she would miss Tony and Tim and their special team dynamics until the two men had actually left, just to the other side of the building granted, but a world away from her.
And she knew Tony didn't love her or want her but she couldn't give it up and had nothing to replace the want with. No steady boyfriend, no job promotion, no close friends. She was resentful and discouraged. But she had no outlet to release her negative feelings. No one would engage in mock hand to hand combat with her in the gym after she accidentally broke another agents nose. Even Abby, who could have used her purging and steaming rocks and tar and soapy flakes to perform magic on her psyche, was too busy with her new old boyfriend McGee to care about her.
Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis
Tony had passed out brown chocolate cigars to announce his engagement to Margret to everyone within passing distance at work though McGee checked his over suspiciously before putting it away in his desk. Tony placed one on each of team Gibbs desk as they were out, even Ziva's, and thought perhaps she might be happy for him. If not, well there were plenty of people who were.
Abby came up to shake his hand and he initiated the hug she had wanted to give but had restrained her impulsive run and jump into his arms as having lost that privilege. His pending fatherhood would be kept quiet for now.
Gibbs' team returned from their latest case. Ziva was in a foul mood but hid it well. She found the cigar that looked real on her desk.
"What is this?"
"If I'm not mistaken," said Gibbs, "It's Tony's official way of announcing his engagement to Margret."
What had happened to Ziva's stoicism and secretiveness in hiding her emotions? Even Gibbs looked at her in surprise when she blurted out in cold fury.
"Tony is going to marry that overlarge bitch blimp? You are pulling my leg, am I not right?"
"ZIVA?!"
"No, I must speak to him now. This cannot be happening, not after stringing me along all this time." And she started to get up from her chair to storm to the other side and confront Tony as a woman betrayed.
"ZIVA, SIT DOWN!" Gibbs hadn't yelled but his voice was full of authority as she came to her senses and abruptly reclaimed her seat. She lowered her head in chagrin for a moment at her loss of control then raised her head and shoulders proudly.
"I am sorry, Gibbs. I allowed my emotions to control me over an injustice I feel has been perpetrated against me. I will not allow it to happen again and I certainly will not interfere in Agent DiNozzo's life or his affairs."
Gibbs penetrating gaze finally left her and she breathed a sigh of relief. She felt the new SFA Adams studying her intently and the Probie gaping beady eyes at her. She glared at Adams and after a moment, he turned away but she knew he wasn't intimidated, not like the Probie who practically swallowed his tongue when she put heat behind the glare she aimed at him. She threw the hated cigar into the garbage can but not before she crumbled the chocolate angrily in her hand.
Ziva finished her paperwork and packed up to go home. She saw Tony in the parking lot with two other agents who were shaking his hand and patting him on the back. Her car was parked near his. He would have to pass her to get to his so she stood by her car and waited.
"Goodnight, Ziva." Unbelievably, he was just going to walk right by her without pausing to even speak other than a goodnight?
"Tony, can we talk a moment, for old father's time sake."
That got a grin out of him as she knew it would.
"Sorry, Ziva, not right now, I've got an appointment I must keep." In fact, their second sonogram to see the sex of the babies was scheduled for an hour away.
"Surely, you can spare me five minutes, Tony." She grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving.
"I could, but I don't want to. Now let me go, Ziva, or do you intend to grapple me to the ground again and put a gun to my chest?"
"Do you know what I think, Tony? You think this woman will bring you happiness but she will not. She will bore you to tears. She is dull and tame and any excitement will be leeched out of your life. Even her size is wrong. You have always been attracted to the small, petite, feminine woman. She is as tall as you are all angle and bone. So, I will give you one last chance. I will not beg any longer. Choose between her and me now. It is your last chance to make the right decision. Choose!"
"Ziva, damn you, there is no right or wrong choice to make, there's only the one choice and I've made it! I don't want you and right now I can't even stand the sight of you! Now, goodnight!"
He roughly pulled his arm free from her grasp, got in his car and drove away without a backward glance. She watched his departure without emotion. As she turned to get into her car, she caught a glimpse of Adams standing beside his car and she was sure he had overheard everything and she didn't care. What she had done was necessary, a final attempt and an irrevocable closure.
On Friday when Tony arrived at work, he found McGee already seated and staring at his computer.
He looked at Tony with a frown and sighed. "You hear the scuttlebutt?"
"What? What scuttlebutt?"
"Ziva was fired."
Tony found he was not surprised, saddened a little that she refused to humble herself and be a team player, but not surprised.
"What happened?"
"Gossip at the water cooler is that Gibbs team caught that case with the two dead bodies and a missing payroll. They were out at the La Quay hanging gardens where Gibbs assigned duties like he always did, senseless to the rest of us, but perfect sense to him.
"Anyway, Gibbs told Adams in front of everyone to get the evidence back to Abby, to contact his friend in the San Diego office for information he may have on the perp, and to do his thing with the computer and print out some stuff while the rest of them finished up the case.
"Ziva didn't know that the garden owner offered his computer and Adams could work from there. Adams handed Ziva the keys without an explanation and told her to get the evidence back to Abby.
"Ziva basically told him to take a hike. Gibbs had told her what to do and that's what she was going to do."
"Oh boy."
"Yeah. Instead of wasting time calling her on it, Adams jumped in the van and got back to the office pretty quick. I guess Lewis told Gibbs what happen and when they got back, Gibbs went directly to the Director's office.
"Ziva started yelling the minute Gibbs disappeared behind Vance's door. She just charged in and was practically up in Adam's face accusing him of undermining her ability to do her work and harassment and that basically he was incompetent to be telling her what to do."
"So it wasn't just me she felt that way about. What did Adams do?"
"After he ignored her, they were after all still working the case she slammed his stapler on the desk to get his undivided attention. He got on the phone to call security. When she disconnected him, and you're not going to believe this, he calmly got up to confront her.
"You know how she has everyone here afraid of her fighting skills. Anyway, she started her Ninja moves with the famous flying foot. He caught her foot midair, jerked backwards and had her on the floor with his knee in her back and her hands behind her back. She couldn't move."
"Poor Ziva. How ignominious. Geez! Not to change the subject McGee but were you hovering un-stealthily behind the water cooler when all this was going down?"
"No!...Uh, Abby was."
"Is Ziva in jail?"
"No. The Boss and Vance came down and Vance fired her without blinking an eye."
Tony wasn't feeling a whole lot of anything. Saddened for an era gone by, sorry that Ziva couldn't adjust and regret that they parted as not friends or less friends, as they had never really been friends. He remembered when they were in Israel and she bragged that the only two people who could exact punishment were her and her father and she had never been able to get over herself or rid herself of that notion.
Disheartened that he didn't give her the five minutes that she asked for, he felt somewhat to blame and instinctively knew she had gotten fired on purpose to remove herself from an untenable position.
"If you're blaming yourself for this, don't Tony. She made her choice. Ziva will take care of Ziva." McGee turned back to his computer a little more melancholy himself but realistically pedantic; his inner stodginess reasoned she hadn't followed the rules, what could she expect?
The phone rang while Ziva was sitting in her window seat at home desolately petting her gray cat and contemplating her dismal future. The calling number was blocked but she answered it anyway.
"This is Corrigan, CIA. I understand you may be looking for a job. If so, come to headquarters and we'll discuss your salary. Kort highly recommends you."
"I have one stipulation, Corrigan. I must work alone and have autonomy over how I perform my duties. I will not have someone ordering me to do things a certain way!"
"We understand that and believe me that will be no problem. Our solo operatives have a handler to report to and be given assignments by, but other than that, you will work alone. Just don't go rogue, there will be consequences if that happens."
"Good. I accept your job offer. I will report for duty in one week. Goodbye."
Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis
Steve and Greg were going to see Anton. Anton had requested that Tony be present also.
"Why in the hell would I want to re-expose myself to Anton DiNozzo who tried to murder me on more than one occasion? He of the criminally insane branch of the family, which, by the way, also includes his matriarch Angela, who has the dubious honor of trying to murder me even longer and harder than Anton. I don't need closure from him, I need distance"
Tony confronted both Steve and Greg with this legitimate question. And it appeared they had no legitimate answer.
"It's a nice car ride?"
Steve stood with his arm around Greg's shoulder. "I don't think he's in the mood, Greg. He needs more time to confront his fears and anger issues and Anton appears to be a bigger man than your uncle Tony here. So let's go."
"Insult me 'til the sun grows as cold as Angela the bitches' dead heart I'm still not going."
"Can you just ride with the two of us Tony and then wait in the car or the lounge where you won't have to see him?" Greg turned back from getting in the front seat to appeal one more time to his obstinately uncooperative uncle.
"Why, Greg?"
Greg just shrugged his shoulder, he didn't know, and got in the car. Tony watched them drive to the end of the driveway before he called Greg on his cell phone and told them to come back, he had changed his mind. Steve backed up at a ridiculously high speed spewing gravel and spitfire and doing a 180 showing off his daredevil Vin Diesel driving skills and juvenility.
Tony opened the front passenger door and pointed to the back. Greg scrambled out quickly and slid into the back seat happily. His two favorite people in the world all to himself today.
"You're a show-off lousy punk, Steve." Tony slapped at the dust sprayed on his favorite leather jacket from Steve's inane Indy car backup maneuver.
"You're ugly, no uglier when you're jealous, Tony."
They arrived at the private locked facility two hours later. Tony followed them to Anton's section where they were admitted to the lounge waiting room. Anton was allowed two visitors at a time and they were told that he already had a visitor. They sat down to wait.
Matthew Simmons came out of Anton's room and walked down the hallway. His best friend was locked up for who knew how long. He was jobless and living on his rapidly depleting trust fund. He had to stay low hoping those pending charges the whores at NCIS had leveled against him would be dropped and Angela DiNozzo was dead.
Angela DiNozzo. If he forced himself to face the truth, everything had gone to crap for him when she convinced him of the allure of working in law enforcement after college. Specifically, the Federal Agency NCIS.
Infatuated with her, partly in love with the much older but beautiful woman, he had let her lead him to a job that he was not suited for and never liked, only to find out later that she wanted him there in that position for one reason and one reason only, to spy on Anthony DiNozzo, Jr and report back to her every word that came out of the bastards mouth.
He had been bitterly disillusioned at the betrayal of his first love and hurt. So it was easy for him to treat women the way she had treated him. He glanced into the waiting room and saw the bastard Tony DiNozzo who he also blamed for the predicament he was in now. It was his fault he had lost so much by being the minion of Angela's obsession with the man. Steve and Gregor were also present in the room and he couldn't help but step in and greet them.
"Well, well. Steve DiNozzo and Gregor, isn't it? You are growing weed-like boy. Sorry to hear about your grandmother, Greg. I know how much she loved you. Steve, how ya' doing, my man? Likewise sorry about Angela, she was a good woman."
Sims could have kept going into the east river as far as Tony was concerned. But as luck would have it, Sims route was via the space right in front of his chair.
"And here we have Tony Asshole DiNozzo, the poor orphan Cinderella half-brother. How ya' doing Tony?"
"Obviously better than you and your sick freak of a best friend, Matt. And didn't I tell you about watching your foul mouth. I already kicked your ass once this year, believe me, I don't have a problem going at it again.
"By the way, I understand the DA's been looking for you. This where you been hiding out, in a room next to Anton, the insane? What do they call you here, Sims, so I'll know where to send ADA Dominguez, Matt the pervert? Stalked any girls lately?"
Tony sat in the surprisingly comfortable chair with his legs stretched out and the picture of relaxed confidence. It had always been easy to get the three stooges riled up and spitting fury and vitriol. Anton, Matt and the dominatrix Angela had their buttons on trigger happy mode and Tony could have them primed and ready to kill in three sentences.
Matt had learned something too in regards to Tony DiNozzo. He may appear a buffoon and sprawl ungainly in the chair as though carelessly relaxed but he wasn't carelessly relaxed. He was deadly alert, and the absurd, derisive garbage spewing from his mouth was aimed to incite and ignite.
No way was he falling for that ploy again. Simmons knew when he was defeated and dampened the new fury this man always aroused in him. He turned abruptly without saying another word in retaliation and left.
Gregor looked at Tony in hero admiration. "Wow! I never did like that guy always hanging around anyway. You sure know how to use the power of words to clear a room."
Steve looked less impressed and more amused, remembering the lambasting he got from Tony after not seeing each other for over a decade.
"Greg, your uncle graduated in trashtalk 101 before you were born. He's got the Oscar for the put-down artist of the year. Fools who try to compete with him go away crying big fat tears of agony and it ain't pretty. Now let's go see that father of yours."
Steve hustled Greg out of the waiting room talking pretty good trash about his brother himself. He could hear them talking as they walked down the hallway which gave Tony some time to cool down and cool off. If that's how he felt when he saw Sims, how would it be when he had to confront Anton who was an even worse enemy? Could he keep his mouth shut and not set the guy off for Greg's sake?
Half an hour later he found out.
"Did you kill my mother, or have her killed?"
Tony had walked into the room not knowing what to expect but this calm and quiet, sane appearing man was not it. The last time he had seen Anton DiNozzo, the man had had a knife at his neck ready to slice it open and fifteen agency guns pointed at his anatomy seriously ready to let loose a volley of death dealing lead. Uncaring and unafraid, Anton had been ready to die to avenge his mother.
"No."
"That's what Father said. Steve said the same thing, that he was absolutely positive that you didn't kill her. But I needed to hear it for myself. She loved her high heeled shoes you know. Wouldn't go anywhere without them even to the bathroom."
"I was told you wanted to see me."
"Weren't you afraid to come? Last time we met I was ready to kill you?"
"I'm not afraid of you, never have been no matter how many times your mother sent you and your posse after me. Is that why I'm here, to reminisce about your she-devil mother's love of shoes because I tell you right now, the thought leaves the worst taste in my mouth and I'd rather just have lye funneled down my throat than to have to do that. So why don't we just agree that I came like you asked for Greg's sake and leave it at that. Goodbye."
Tony didn't have time to turn to walk away in relief before Anton spoke again.
"I know you don't want to be here, Anthony, and I'm not that enamored of the idea myself but the doctor's say I must confront the things that were making me ill and deal with them out in the open where I can see them for what they are."
"Well, confronting me because I'm what's making you ill makes just about as much sense as Angela the...as her blaming me for her marital problems and the grade-A louse of a husband she hooked up with. What in the hell did I ever do to you to make you go psychotic on me? Let's get it all out in the open, see my bad deeds against you for what they are.
"I remember tying your shoe laces because you hadn't learned how to yet and your fat fingers made it even harder. Do you remember that? Or riding you on my back like I was a damn horse for your fat little butt until the bitch had a fainting spell because her little Anton might have become contaminated by being so close to me? What about that does any of it ring a bell?
"You tell me what I did to make you break my jaw and leave me unconscious on the fucking hotel room floor after your best friend gave me second degree burns with his lighter?"
Tony must have been yelling but hadn't realized how loud because when Steve and Gregor came into the room, he knew they had heard him all the way down the hall by the looks on their faces. So what! Let them hear! They dragged him here and they were all going to get some answers before the facility decided to throw him out.
Anton looked dazed and confused. "No, I don't remember that. Mother said you always used to pick on me and beat me up. She had to watch me so carefully because she didn't know what you would do."
"Did she tell you about the time she tried to drown me in the bathtub for my birthday and if it wasn't for Steve here, who was too little to know what the hell was going on but knew enough to hang onto my arm because nobody could breathe air while their head was being held under water? Too bad she failed at that, I'd have been out of your lives decades ago. She broke my leg when she threw me down the stairs and she poured alcohol down my throat when I was just a little helpless boy, she tell you about that?
"What could I have done to equal that, some harmless little prank, some rough housing boy's thing? Drank your chocolate milk? Bopped you in the head with a plastic ball? You tell me what I did to you, dammit, you tell me now!
Tony had Anton by the throat throttling him so even if he had an answer he couldn't express it. Steve got him from behind again in a choke hold this time and yelled at him repeatedly to let go. He applied enough pressure that Tony would be passed out and flapping like a dying fish soon if he didn't do as he was told.
So he let the bastard go and Anton fell to the floor gasping in great lungful's of air and Greg was on the floor beside him trying to help him up. The only thing Tony was sorry about was the covert tears in the boys eyes that he swiped away quickly to hide that he was crying because the flawed, damaged DiNozzo men don't have the capacity or the basic human feelings to cry over anything.
"You're lying! You're a damn liar just like mother said! I'm not supposed to believe anything you say. Liar, liar!" Anton sobbed and rocked.
Blubbering idiot, Tony thought. He'd had enough of this.
"And you're a lunatic. What are you five years old? Grow up! Mommy, mommy, mommy. Your mommy was as insane as you appear to be. You left your kid in her hands and she had him seven thousand miles away isolated, all by himself, anything could have happened to him. He was so depressed he tried to kill himself when he was twelve years old. What kind of a mother does that? And was that my fault too?"
This was not working. Disgusted, he turned to Steve, "I'm done here. I'll see you guys in the car."
"Wait! Just wait! Please."
Surprised Tony turned around. Anton was trying to get up off the floor with Steve's help. Greg had run to get a chair. He sounded lucid, not like the baby boy crying for his mommy like he had been five minutes go. His contradictory schizophrenic behavior was making Tony's head spin.
"I need answers. I need to know if you're telling the truth. Mother isn't here to ask...or lie about it. I want to know the truth!" Anton waved away the chair and started a clumsy pace. His voice was laced with suffering as he brought forth a memory.
"I remember mother in the kitchen. No one else was there just her and I. She...she was feeding me applesauce and a cupcake, a birthday cupcake. I was sitting on her lap. But there was something wrong, the staff was running around, there was a lot of yelling. They brought you down, you and Antoney wrapped in towels, your hair was wet, the stove was warm...I didn't know what had happened..."
Anton became more agitated, running his hands through his hair then biting his knuckles in absolute horror as the real memory overtook him, almost to his undoing.
"How could that be? Mother didn't...she wouldn't...but her dress was wet, I didn't like to sit on her because her dress was wet but she wouldn't let me get down." His words came out soft, his voice cracked with shame at his betrayal as he let his mother's name fall off the pedestal where she had sat all his life. Anton grew cold, freezing to stiffness inside, catatonic to the others watching.
Steve stood in front of the still man who had stopped his agitated pacing. "Anton sit down, come on, sit here on the bed. Put your feet up. Greg get the blanket and turn out the bedside lamp will you? Here take this pill Anton, drink some water with it. There you go. Rest, we'll be right outside."
Steve took Tony's arm and they left the room closing the bedroom door slightly. Greg remained, sitting on the floor leaning back against the bed with his head on his knees.
"What...what just happened, Steve?" Tony was flustered and unsure for the first time since they arrived.
"The doctor's said he won't try to remember things from his childhood that would put Angela in a bad light. I guess he had a breakthrough, a memory just now or something." Steve appeared tired, haggard as they sat down in the waiting room again, his responsibility as Anton's medical power of attorney was taking its toll.
"It seems little brother has been in denial even after Father showed him the FBI reports, the charges against her...I read the documents. She was my mother but she was...an evil monster, worse than some enemies we fight every day. Maybe now that he remembers something traumatic, horrible that she did, that he remembers himself, he'll be ready to move forward. But holy, god, hell, I don't even remember that."
Steve scrutinized Tony's face searching for...something. It had happened, he knew that. His mother was a homicidal maniac, he also knew that. There was no answer. He would have to be satisfied that some people are just born bad.
"You saved my life."
"Yeah?"
Tony nodded, "Yeah."
Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis. Ncisncisncisncis
