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Chapter Text

The Small Blade
 

A flicker in the dim-lit air,

So slight it seems almost unfair—

The smallest cut can draw the tide,

Where even giants learn to hide.

No hilt of gold, no roaring flame,

Just quiet truth none can tame.

It fits the palm yet splits the night—

The small blade knows: the keenest bite.

Let axes boast their weight, their might,

This sliver sings—just watch it write.

………………………

Eight year old Tony sat crying just in the tree line at the edge of the sprawling grounds. He was hiding because 'Dinozzo's don't cry' and the backs of his arms were already bruised from pinching. The towering trees were standing vanguard against the beautiful sunny day that almost seemed an affront to the pain of his heartbreak, shrouding him in the appropriate shadow and gloom to accompany the soundtrack of the heaving sobs that wracked his little chest; blocking out the happy bird song and sweet and warm summer breeze.

He didn't want sweet breeze and birdsong. He didn't want the riot of colour of blooming flowers and the happy buzz of industrious bees, he especially didn't want the laughter of children as they scampered across emerald green Dinozzo lands to get to the sparkling clear watering hole Tony wasn't allowed to go swim in as it was 'a festering hole of murky soup only suited for the most common of folk'. He didn't want any of the vibrant life blossoming around him.

He wanted his mother back and she was dead. Dead and cold in the family crypt where she would never feel the sun, never smell the flowers, never wander through the verdant grasses with his hand warm in hers, holding tightly to each other even as their palms grew slippery with sweat.

She would never take him to the movies in her shiny sky blue Aston Martin convertible with the top down that always ruined their well brushed hair. Never buy a buttery popcorn for them to share and wrap her arm around his shoulders at the captivating Hollywood stars danced and floated across the silver screen.

Never play her piano and hum absently in the sunlight pooling through the large windows of the sunroom. Never call him to sit next to her, guiding his little hands along the keys. She would never tuck him into bed with gentle hands and the smell of wine against his forehead as she sang him to sleep and kissed his forehead.

She would never do any of those things again because she was dead and he'd killed her.

He'd killed his mother.

He should have stopped her from driving. He should have smelled the liquor on her breath and told one of the house staff. He should have stolen the keys from her and kept them away. So many things he should have done but he'd been nothing but a lump. A stupid, greedy lump. He'd been so excited to see the movie that day. So greedy to spend their special time together. Already in love with the characters she'd described, dancing around her as she sat at her large vanity and styled her beautiful hair. He'd ignored the near empty bottle, the lipstick stains along the wine glass, the second empty bottle in the small gold bin.

Ignored how she'd thrown back the last of the glass and laughed, too loudly… too brightly. How her eyes had been too wide, too shiny, patches of darkened skin peeping from under the neckline of her new dress, her new bright and gaudy jewelry. All gifts from father after his return from his latest 'venture'.

He'd held silent as the car swerved and swayed at speed on the road towards downtown, how crystal droplets had collected in the corners of her eyes but never fell as she laughed wildly and tossed her beautiful hair against the whipping of the wind, the smell of her perfume in his nostrils. His lips had been pressed white, not a single sound escaping as he gripped the door handle enough to hurt. But still he said nothing as his heart tripped in his chest. To speak would have been to burst the bubble growing and growing in his head and he dared not. Not when they were going so fast.

Then they were at the bridge and the bubble ruptured as he'd screamed, everything going bright and weightless for long agonizing seconds before going suddenly dark and deafening. Even in the summer the canal was shockingly cold, the water stirred up all dark and murky. He screamed once more and it flooded in to silence him, clogging his throat and burning his eyes and ears and nose. The cold stole the feeling in his hands as he scrambled to find her, somehow unhooking his seat belt and kicking his little legs towards her; black flowers blooming over his sight as he choked and swallowed.

His fingers passed through her silk mermaid hair for a fleeting moment before the current grabbed him and pulled him away from her, up and away as the paleness of her floating limbs grew further and further from his grasp.

His first breath of air as he surfaced was like knife in his throat, a crush on his chest, a burn in his gut and in his eyes and nose. The world was an explosion of sound, the sun a merciless bright and burning and blinding even as he shivered from the cold. His limbs felt like jelly as he tried to swim back towards the sunken car. He could just see the blue of it as the water cleared. She was right there. She was waiting for him. He had to get back to her.

Steel beams wrapped around his chest and he struggled against them, a ragged howl ripping from his burning throat as he scratched at the restraint. He grabbed at the rushing water desperately, his feet kicking ineffectually as he was pulled towards the shore. Blurred monsters held him against the muddy grass, their voices low and distorted as they spoke over him. He struggled against them weakly, trying to get back to the water. Back to his mother.

She was right there. She needed him.

She was waiting for him.

He bit savagely the beam closest to him and was rewarded with a yowl and freedom, he dove madly towards the water but was snapped up again before he got even halfway there. He screeched like a rabid animal, his carefully trimmed nails clawing as something came to block his mouth. The distortions around him whipped up in frenzy, growing in volume and fervour until something jumped up and bit him in his left buttock, sending the world tumbling into black.

He woke up days later in the hospital with a pale and stern Senior speaking heatedly with a man in a white coat and another with a bright blue sash on his arm. It sported a golden shield and he'd recognized it immediately. Any child that stayed in school past kindergarten knew that emblem. It was the SAGC - the Sentinel and Guide Council. And whatever they were saying was upsetting Senior, his face that stone carved façade he adopted when stone walling on something.

Tony had blinked at them tiredly, not quite close enough to hear them above the whooshing and beeping of the machines around him  but still close enough to see their lips move. He'd often practiced lip reading on the staff, something he'd seen in a movie and wanted to learn.

"… pneumonia… long rest and recovery…"

"… mother was a survivor… guide flu as a child… "

"…Weakened even more from childbirth…"

"… never came online?..."

"… the boy tested…"

"… can compel you… it's the law…"

"… discussed counselling? … mother's death…"

Tony curled in on himself, sending the machines into a tiff as the words echoed endlessly in dark and cavernous hollow of his mind. Mother's death. She was dead. She was gone. He'd killed her. He hadn't done enough to save her. He'd failed her.

Gentle hands pulled him from the fetal curl, straightening out his limbs and pressing a cold stethoscope to his heaving chest. His eyes burned and his vision went blurry but he could still make out the still figure of Senior in the bright doorway, stern and unforgiving in his very stance.

Dinozzo's don’t cry.

His breath hitched as he fought the tears back even as the hospital staff spoke in careful gibberish above his prone form. He watched, detached as a nurse injected something into his IV line and the world tilts slowly to one side. He collapsed against the bed, his eyelids drooping as he went boneless. He stayed just awake enough to hear the quiet conversation just inside the room, his breathing evening out as he lay still and compliant.

"His mother never felt the need to come online. Surely the boy will never need to…"

"But that's the issue here Mr. Dinozzo. Young Anthony is already online. He did so during the crash. His distress called in other online persons from at least ten miles around. That kind of thing is practically unheard of… especially in someone so young."

Tony's own soft gasp was covered by Senior's even sharper one and the slight blip in his heart monitor made the doctor glance over absently. Tony forced himself to calm. He needed the conversation to go on.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Senior sounded oddly intrigued.

"Oh! It's a good thing usually." the SAGC rep perked up. "The best thing would be to be sent in for a complete battery of tests."

"Now see here just a minute… " the doctor interjected, " The boy's just come out from having pneumonia… what he needs right now is time to rest and recover… not to be picked and prodded by a bunch of…"

"Doctor! I beg your pardon." the rep bristled like a cat. " I will have you know that the SAGC has always held the safety of our SAG community…"

"Save your propaganda…" the doctor huffed, holding up a gloved hand before turning to Senior. "At least a month or two of recovery and I would also recommend getting a skilled child psychologist. The boy's having to deal with all this at once may very likely send him into a downward spiral, especially if it was traumatic enough to yank him fully online."

"Is that your official medical recommendation?" Senior voice had gone cold again and the there was a long, pregnant pause before the doctor spoke again.

"It can be." his deep voice was heavy with promise.

The SGAC rep saw a moment to step in. "The Council has all the facilities to handle any physical… and mental medical care the young sentinel might need. It is very important that we quickly ascertain his level and get the appropriate treatment underway… all at our own expense, of course."

Tony felt his heart sink at those words, confirmed by Senior's own hum of interest. If it got Tony out of his hair and one someone else's dime, then the old man was all for it. The doctor's huff of disapproval was echoed among the beeping of the machines as he watched Senior be guided to the nurse's station by the still yapping Rep, his eyes narrowed as he glared at their backs.

He glanced to the bed and caught Tony's unblinking gaze, startling a bit then letting his shoulders slump in exhaustion. He walked over and patted Tony's knee. "I'll try to make sure you're given the time you need to recover. I know a guy high up in the SAGC. Maybe he can keep tabs on how they're treating you. Not pushing you too hard or anything."

He did a quick check of the machines then gave Tony one last pat. "Chin up kid. I heard you put up quite a fight down at the river. You just need to keep that fight instinct in your heart and your head above water. Just survive…  and the world will end up doing the rest."

Tony curled unto one side when he was finally alone in the room, pressing his stinging eyes into the pillow to keep back the tears struggling to get out. He took deep, slow breaths, something he'd seen his mother doing far too many times. The hurt pooling in his chest burned and slopped around like lava, his throat heavy and feeling filled with boulders grinding against one another. His extremities felt numb, cool and rubbery, his limbs heavy and so hard to move. His hair was slicked against his head and neck, making him feel sticky and dirty. 

He knew that he looked a mess and probably didn't smell too good either. He could still feel the water against his skin, dirt and grime somehow clinging to his disinfected skin. He could feel the press of the water as he tried to pull breath, the power of the current as it ripped him further away from her pale, floating figure, her beautiful hair in a surreal cloud around her bare slam arms and delicate piano player fingers. If he closed his eyes, he was almost back there again, deep in the water that stole sound, smell, sight and feeling. That pulled him and choked him and pressed him to its own sinister whims.

"She always wanted a child."

Senior's voice broke him from the deep waters and had him snapping back to the present. He blinked stupidly at the man standing still beside his hospital bed, hands tucked away into the pockets of his long coat, his collar pulled up around that chiseled jawline. Tony quickly and carefully straightened up and sat at attention, the way Senior always demanded. He kept his gaze at Senior's chin as 'little boys don't look their betters in the eyes'; his hands clasped demurely in his lap.

"She made me promise her to have a kid. Even had it put in the fucking pre-nup." the older man huffed a harsh and bitter laugh. "Even though she knew her body was weak from being sick as a child. But she was a fighter. She fought tooth and nail for a kid. For you."

"And look at what you did to her. You already almost killed her in childbirth and now you've succeeded in being the final nail in her coffin." Senior's gaze was hard like diamonds and just as cold. "The love of my fucking life… and you killed her."

Tony clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling, biting the inside of his cheek enough to bleed to keep him from breaking, the iron taste on his tongue and in cloying throat. Senior was only telling him what he'd already known. He bowed his head and clenched his fists into the scratchy hospital blanket.

"The doctor said one month of rest so you'll be spending that at the SAGC. You will keep up with your school work while there. You will spend this summer vacation at the Chandler Cottage. The main house will be closed up and the staff dismissed as I will be in Europe for the next six months. You are to keep out of trouble and out of my hair. Then when school begins in the new term, you'll be enrolled in Remington and will board year round except for the summers which you will spend out of sight at Chandler. You will do this until I can bear to look at you again, do you understand?"

Tony could only nod numbly. No amount of begging or pleading had ever swayed Senior to change his mind in thee past. Only Mother had ever done that successfully with her gentle, siren ways. But now she was dead and Tony had no one left to parley on his behalf anymore. Whatever Senior said was now law and Tony was left with no choice but to concede. His voice felt rusty and disused and he swallowed harshly before speaking.

"What about the funeral?" his eyes bravely flickered up for just a second before he once again bowed in supplication. His father's expression was enough to turn his insides cold and he braced himself on instinct.

Senior's voice lay just on the edge of smug and cruel. "Your mother was interred in the family crypt yesterday. Did you think we were all going to wait for you to get over your little cold in order to honour her? That her family and friends were going to bow to the whims of the spoiled little kid who finally finished the job in stealing her life? You think you are that important to any one in this entire world?"

The older man made a derisive noise. "And to think that you came online as a sentinel. Too little too late as usual. Your sole purpose in life is to help people… to serve the greater good of the tribe. And you couldn't even do that. Not even for your own mother. As expected. Pathetic… just fucking pathetic."

He turned on his heel and stalked away and out of the room, leaving Tony bowed almost in half on the large bed, his fingers digging into his arms as he stared unseeing at the sheets strewn over his thin legs. He felt numb… free from the tether of his body and adrift. Unmoored and floating as the words tumbled over in the cavern of his mind.

He'd missed the funeral… by a day. His mother was already buried, cold and alone in the monstrosity of the family crypt she'd hated so much when she was vibrant and alive. She'd told him more than once that she'd wanted to be cremated and her ashes spread among the flowers of the fields where she would be part of the beauty of nature's never ending cycle forever. But now she was gone, sealed away in the cold stone and dark shadow before he could even properly say goodbye. Before he could touch her hair once more, hold her delicate hand. Kiss her pale, cool cheek.

Hs mother was gone and Tony would have nothing but a few bright memories to remember her by.

----------------------

The SAGC rep whose name was Owens ushered Tony into the large glass fronted building with a genuine attempt at something beyond a PR smile but Tony had been enough high society to know a fake when he saw one. He felt like a bug under glass with all the stopping and staring along his 'parade' through the many halls of the building. He knew that childhood presentations were rare, even under distress and he was in no way the youngest to ever do so but it seemed that it was still a big enough deal for such a hubbub.

He was greeted by a bonded pair, powerful yet sincere enough, speaking to him gently and swallowing him in a buffer that had him stumbling on his feet. He was swiftly guided to a chair and settled in with some hot chocolate. Their names were Sentinel and Guide Halstead, never offering their given names and Tony too emotionally wrecked to care to ask. Even though he wanted nothing more than to curl up under covers, they insisted that testing his levels would be for the best and the quicker he got it over with, the quicker he got get on the road to full recovery.

The test were confusing and performed in a shielded room, only a monotone voice from a speaker to interact with.  Tony drifted through, only the promise of a warm bath and a soft place to rest keeping him plugging along. Eventually they came to an end and he was allowed to sink into the deep embrace of thankfully dreamless sleep.

When he awoke once more he was met with solemn gazes and heavy pauses. Owens even tried to hold is hand in comfort but Tony quickly pulled away with a frown.

"I'm so sorry Anthony. You've tested at Level Two." Guide Halstead eyes were heavy with disappointment. "Eyesight and hearing are the barely passable with smell a bit behind. Touch and taste are almost null."

"…barely a sentinel." Owens muttered under his breath, earning glares from both Tony and Guide Halstead.

"I can still hear, you know. I haven't suddenly gone deaf." Tony deadpanned, feeling grim satisfaction as the man reddened and the Guide cleared her throat decisively. He turned back to the frowning guide. "So what now? I still get trained, don't I?"

He thumbed at the still quailing Owens. "He promised my father that you would see to my recovery and training as well as help me keep up with my school work…" he did a spot one imitation of the man's simpering back at the hospital "… all at your own expense, of course."

Sentinel Halstead's glare looked like it could set fire to Owen's balding head and he folded his arms with a deep frown. "Since the paperwork has already gone through… it seems we have no choice but to fulfill our duties to the tribe."

Tony scowled at the reluctance in the man's voice. All the enthusiasm from before seemed to have faded like the morning mist in sunlight. Turned out no one wanted a Feebo. Tony had heard stories of those who'd come online as 'Feeble'. Classified too weak to properly protect the tribe. Often only one or two senses enhanced enough to be of viable use to society. They often were shunted into support staff or fled to the private sector to work in niche industries where their senses worked to their advantage.

At least Tony had a bright future as a lookout for forest fires or a telephone operator. His smell might give him a leg up in a perfume company or even security guard at the airport smelling for drugs. He'd be the same rank as the trained dogs but he'd have access to shitty coffee and shittier airport food.

He swallowed down the gallows humour as he was led back to his little room, the Halstead's promising to have his schedule ready by the next day. Owens was wisely replaced by a young guide named Gwen - no last name given and Tony never asked. Training consisted of meditation classes and daily videos about sentinel and guide culture and duties to the tribe, small exercises and tests that were never graded and a soft version of PT as he was still recovering from pneumonia.

He did see a councilor but the man insisted on Tony drawing his feelings in crayon and talking through dolls. Tony had looked at him as if he was crazy then glanced at Gwen who was happy to just look on attentively and quietly gave up on therapy in his mind. He would find no help here. They all seemed to just be going through the motions. He was glad to finally see the back of that place, even if it meant going home and to the changed situation there.

The main house looked dark in the distance and it hit him just then that everyone who'd made that looming building a home was now gone. Scattered to the four winds. The kitchen staff, headed by the warm and sassy Marta who whapped his sneaking hands with a wooden spoon then snuck him a taste from the pot. Her always laughing husband Osboldo whose hulking arms budged as he brought in crates of fresh produce for the meal.

Head matron Francine who ran the Understairs with an iron fist that had the mansion running like clockwork. She'd come across with Mother from England as dowry and had married Reginald, the butler and true gentleman. Ricardo, mother's driver, when she wasn't galivanting with Tony, had been dismissed immediately for 'neglect' even though he'd kept the Aston Martin in show room condition. Even Tony's valet, Gregory, had been let go; Tony now deemed 'too old' to be coddled in such a way. All of them cleared out and gone without a goodbye.

Chandler was a small cottage far to the back of the grounds and away from the road into town. It was quaint and quite warm and welcoming if not for the strangers that greeted his return. Mister and Madam Stout were solemn and professional, hardly speaking until necessary. They did their job expertly but subtly ignored any overtures by Tony for a more friendly rapport. His meals were spent alone in the small salon, his days in the library catching up on school assignments.

It all came to a head the day he had to try on his Remington uniform. He deep red of the blazer, the starched white shirt and charcoal grey pants. He'd been trying to tie his tie without Greg's usual dexterous help and he'd just snapped. He'd torn off the clothes, tossing them unto his bed in a heap that Madam Stout would be sure to tut and shake her head at; and had run out of the house in his vest and charcoal slacks.

He'd felt the tears brimming behind his eyes and had to get away. To get out of sight before anyone could witness a Dinozzo cry. The trees were the closest shelter, their shadowy embrace his only solace against the unrelenting gaze of the blazing sun. his socked feet sank into mud as he stumbled and skidded into the shaded canopy, making it a bit of a ways in before collapsing at the root of a giant tree with a ragged cry.

He couldn't do this. Not alone. He'd lost everyone. They'd all been ripped away from him all once. He missed Marta with her soft hugs and secret snacks. Osboldo with his barrel chest and deep laugh. He missed Gregory with his quick wit and awful knock knock jokes.  He missed Francine and the tittering maids, Reginald and his silent support and guidance, Ricardo with his easy smile and infinite patience with Tony's endless questions.

And mostly he missed his mother with her loving kisses, quiet piano playing and secret movie escapades. He missed her smell, the warmth of her skin as he leaned against her slim form, the smell of her perfume and the feel of her long beautiful hair as it brushed against his cheek. He missed her voice as it sang him to sleep or giggled in secret sunlit corners of the mansion. He missed being loved and loving in return. He missed having and anchor in family. Having someone in his corner. Someone who gave a damn if he was alright. Who loved him freely and without condition.

He missed her so much. Life was so cold and empty without her. It hurt to breath without her.

And he'd killed her. … he'd killed her.

His sobs turned into wails as he scrabbled at the fallen leaves that littered the grove. Mud crusting under his fingers nails and grinding into the new charcoal Remington issued trousers. Tony didn't give a shit about any of that. It felt like his whole world was breaking, his lungs trying to claw their way out of his chest. He just kept crying and crying, the pain and hurt he'd been holding inside, crushed down deep and held so tight pouring out like acid, burning all the way.

He lost himself for a bit and came to leaning against the roots of the tree, gazing unseeingly at the spots of sunlight dancing through the leaves. He could see the veins on the undersides of the leaves as they danced in the breeze, could see the insects crawling along the branches. Could hear them clicking and scratching within the wood itself. He could hear his blood rushing through his body, his heart hammering steadily within his chest.

There was another that thumped in beat with his and it pulled him out of the fugue he was lost in, the smell of herbal tea wafting to his nose and he focused on the still form sitting on a fallen log across the small clearing. The man was Asian, older, with a weather beaten face and nut brown skin. He was sitting comfortably, one leg crossed on the other knee, a small white cup fill of steaming liquid held loosely in his wrinkled hand. His gaze was steady and serene as he met Tony's wary gaze, happy to just sit as the younger boy adjusted to his presence.

"Would you like some wolfberry tea?" came the quiet question after a long and lingering silence.

Tony blinked up at the man, openly curious. "Who are you?"

"Chang Sen Fei. Groundskeeper."

Tony looked down at his mud crusted hands and ruined slacks.

"Would you like some wolfberry tea?" came again. "It's good."

Green eyes snapped back as Tony decided whether to say yes for make a run for Chandler Cottage. He'd hadn't met all of the staff on the grounds so he had no idea if the man was telling the truth. His heart beat was steady and he didn't smell of anything the books described as deceit. It was up to the boy to measure in his heart whether to trust or not.

Finally he gave a nod and got to his feet, walking gingerly across the small clearing to where the older man was pouring another steaming pug of tea from an old and battered thermos. The tea was strong and dark with deep red berries and slices of hawthorn floating.

"Good for the kidneys… especially for an old timer like me. " the man chuckled, his eyes crinkling in the spots of bright sun, " … Sip carefully. It's pretty hot."

Tony murmured his thanks and sat on the fallen tree trunk, just outside of arm's length reach.  The man was still a stranger after all. The tea was very hot so he blew on it carefully and took a tentative sip. It was good. Very good. Soon enough warmth spread through his body and he found himself relaxing, his lungs taking deeper, more steady breaths.

They finished the tea in silence, comfortable silence between them as the birds sang above them and the insects screeched. Tony stared down at the cup, sodden berries and fruit sliced sitting sadly in a little pool of tea. He gave a soft thank you, the other man only giving a silent nod of acknowledgement.

"I couldn't save her." he suddenly blurted out, apropos of nothing, startling even himself. But he'd already begun to speak so he just kept going. "I should have stopped her from driving. I should have done something… anything. And then we were in the canal and I couldn't get to her. The current was too strong. I couldn't get back to her. Even after I came online. I…. killed her."

He shook his head as his eyes started to burn once more. "I was too small. Too weak. Not good for anything."

"Even small blades can cut deep. When paired with skill. " the older man intoned, a soft ker-snick making Tony look up.

Those calloused hands held a small whittling knife, the sharp edge flashing in the sunlight as it was turned and flipped expertly. The boy sat amazed at the show of skill, jumping when the small blade was jabbed into empty air with a sharp whoosh of pure precision and power.

"Whoa" he breathed out in awe. "How did you do that?"

The older man chuckled. "With but a sliver of steel, the mountain was parted — not by force, but by the hand that knew where to cut."

He carefully folded the little flip knife closed and held it out to Tony, his gaze intense. "Sometimes,  when the world narrows to a moment and a choice, when all is stripped away… and all we have is one small blade…"

He placed the blade in Tony's reverently outstretched hands and closed the mud crusted fingers around the cool metal. "To learn to use that blade — not just adequately, but masterfully — is the mark of wisdom."

"Will you teach me?" Tony gripped the knife and swallowed hard. "To know where to cut?"

Chang Sen Fei stared at the boy for a long time, taking in the red and swollen eyes, wild hair, the mud stained clothes and hands, so far from the image of the little boy he'd seen in glimpses and heard about from the inside staff. That gamboling little boy was gone and in it's place sat a young man alone in the world. He thought back to his own dark past and the struggle and pain he'd crawled through.

And of the peace he'd finally found walking the nature of the sprawling estate. It was about time he passed on his knowledge, having lost his own family so long ago. Back then he'd been just like this little boy, hurt and alone in a big cold and cruel world. How much he'd wished that there's been someone willing to show him the way. To teach him the painful lessons he'd had to learn all by himself.

Finally, he nodded, decision made, and gave the nervous boy a small smile.

"Call me Sifu."

Chapter Text

“The body is the instrument. The senses are the strings.

Mastery is not just sharpening one — but tuning all in harmony.”

…………………………………

Tony's fingers ghosted along the keys of his mother's beloved piano, the song playing only in his head in the dark and dusty sun room. Gaps in the boarded up windows let thin beams of sunlight in, slices of light filled with dancing motes, barely illuminating the once grand space. He'd done what he'd could to care for the instrument during the past few summers, sneaking into the empty house; ghosting down shadowed halls, slipping around what cloth covered furniture that remained from Senior's regular sweeps for the auction house, the money funneling into the floundering family business.

He'd secured a small polishing kit to keep the instrument clean and glossy, forgoing a tuning kit even though he'd taught himself how on the pianos at school. The noise was enough to bring the patrolling security guards poking around and that was too much of a risk of bringing Senior's Eye of Sauron looking back to the Long Island Estate and to his disappointment of a son.

Tony had worked hard to keep as low as profile as he could since his mother's funeral and subsequent banishment to Chandler Cottage. He'd attended Remington without a word of rebellion, studied hard and kept his grades up. Kept up his hygiene and his room military inspection ready. He'd ingratiated himself with the teachers and charmed the support staff.

He did extra curriculars to keep himself fit and agile and raided the school library with a savage hunger that seemed unquenchable to those who came to know him, devouring knowledge on every subject that seemed useful for his future survival. He learned that the school nurse's cousin was a projectionist at the local cinema and, when he could, he would use his cross country training to sneak off campus and into town for a movie, watched from the booth as long as he brought enough food bartered from the kitchens along to share.

His family's pedigree and reputation was enough to square away most of the bullies, the rest were either tolerated or dealt with more devious ways. Even when his status as a sentinel leaked and people began to treat him warily, he'd used it as much as he could to his advantage. Thankfully, his low level classification remained secure, no doubt due to the robust efforts of Senior's pride. As far as the man was concerned, no one would ever learn of his progeny's 'feebo' shame.

Senior had sent his smarmy lawyer along to Chandler Cottage soon after the SAGC had completed its official report, the dour faced man all too happy to hand over a thick letter dictated by Senior listing all of Tony's failings in chapter and verse.

They'd sat in the musty salon; the older man hunched small in the large wing backed chair in his ill fitting suit, his sallow skin and beady eyes greedy for any sign of sorrow or pain on the boy's young face. And Tony, still reeling from his mother's death and everything that had been piled a top of that traumatic event, had apparently given him enough of a emotional showing to make for a gleeful report back to Senior.

At least his grief had the benefit of being all but ignored, with only the Stouts left behind as spies for his father. It had given him the time and freedom to heal in his own way, to process the emotions of his devastating loss and gather up the pieces of his broken heart.

Spending his summers with Sifu had helped, the man's steady nature and skilled hand in doing things helping to settle Tony's restless soul. After giving Tony the small knife that day, his first lesson had been the care and keeping of it.

"Know your blade, choose it wisely, appreciate it limitations, use it with precision and respect its sharpness."

It was a simple thing, a blade made for whittling and light work. Tony spent days learning to clean and care for it. How to flip it open and closed without nicking himself. How to hold it carefully, how to place it against the wood and how much pressure to apply. He studied it and in turn studied himself wielding it in turn.

Sifu had also started him on an fitness and diet regimen as his body and mind were as much tools as the knife in his hand was. He was an extension of the blade as much as it was an extension of him. And as he honed his body and mind, he would hone his senses. Small things at first, stretching out in increments, seeing how for he could see, hear or smell before the snapback gave him a migraine.

He kept stretching his limitations, knowing how far he could go, how far he could push himself. How far he could run, how much he could carry. And every little bit more he could do became a stepping stone for the next small goal.

He was careful not to over do it, small blades were made for fine tasks. Trying to use it for tasks beyond its capacity just led to frustration, blade damage, and potential injury. Sifu would gently advise him that the key was knowing himself truly and accepting that truth.

"Because of its size, the small blade often demands more focus and control to achieve the desired result." the man would say, sitting on a hand hewn wooden bench in doorway of the landscaper's shed, sipping his tea as Tony sat beside him at rapt attention with his own cup. "A dull blade requires more force and is less effective. Knowing when and how to sharpen the blade is essential for efficient use. "

So Tony kept trying, kept reaching, kept learning. He learned how to make rudimentary knives in metallurgy class even though it was meant for older students, spending time on weekends with the school's grounds keeper who had a small shop for fixing tools on campus. His first blade was made from a hacksaw with a wooden handle he'd carved himself. It was good for little more than mangling bread and fruit but Tony was proud of his first try. The real lesson being the process of creation itself.

His second, third, seventh and twenty seventh attempts were lessons in both patience, failure, pain and frustration and he'd learned how to treat cuts and burns well enough to keep from having to report to the nurse's office. Bit by bit, try after try, he'd improved, gotten stronger, better at handling the rigged up kiln and its heat. Better at knowing the metal in his hands, better at seeing the shape it would eventually embrace.

He now had a simple yet wickedly sharp fixed blade about four inches long tucked in a hand made sheath at the back of his belt and another flip knife tucked in his boot. He'd practiced for hours at night as he studied, his hand becoming accustomed to the movements, becoming smother and quicker on the draw.

After making his crude blades, Sifu then taught him how to fight with them effectively. The man was old Chinese military special forces, long retired on a medical discharge and moved to the US for a more peaceful life but still sharp as a whip and just as fast. His preffered style of fighting was Sanda, quick, practical and good for close range combat; perfect for getting up close and personal with a small, precise blade.

For Tony it meant long days being tossed around the small clearing where they'd first met, bruised from being thrown or hit with the wooden shaft of the long spear Sifu often used, proudly calling it the King of Weapons. Tony would fall exhausted into bed every night,  sleep like the dead, smelling like the nasty poultice Sifu made; and would wake feeling oddly refreshed and ready for more.

Sanda also included elements of archery, wrestling, kick boxing and staff fighting so Tony ended up carving and wielding his own bow, arrows and staff to test in the clearing against his Sifu. At school he would run through his Tao in slow and precise movements every morning and night until they became second nature, his speed and accuracy slowly increasing through dedicated repetition.

Some of his best meditation came from Tai chi, often the only time his mind would calm enough to thin the barrier to the spirit plane. Though all the  history books stated imperially that no sentinel or guide below a level three could even access the revered spirit plane, it still filled Tony with an almost other worldly peace when he fell into deep meditation from the slow movement.

It was the same kind of peace that music brought him. Playing the piano in school, running through the songs his mother used to play. Sitting on the bench, his hands poised over the keys, sibilant notes taking him back to the golden days. In those moments he could all but smell her favourite perfume, hear her sweet voice. Feel her long hair against his cheek.

He opened his eyes to the dusty old sun room once, music notes still dancing in his mind like dust motes in sun beams. He pressed out a simple tune, the notes soft and slightly discordant under his fingertips. This would probably be the last time he would be able to come and play the piano like this. There was hardly any furniture left in the old mansion and even though the instrument was his mother's favourite, Tony sadly had no illusions that Senior would bat an eye against auctioning the Grand Piano off for a much needed flush of cash for his ever changing 'business endeavours'.

The man may have loved his wife at one point but he'd loved her money more.

Tears came to Tony's eyes as it felt like losing his mother all over again and he did nothing to keep them back. Dinozzo's may not cry but tears for his mother were hers alone and had nothing whatsoever to do with his father. She'd always believed that it was better to 'have a good cry and get over it', so he would do that; if only for her. In that moment he wished that he were older, stronger… able somehow to claim the piano for himself and protect it from the auction block. Going to Senior about it would have it up for sale in a hot second or, more likely; broken up and thrown to a landfill.

As much as the man had loved his mother and cherished her things, he would rather have them destroyed than see Tony treasure them. That was just the kind of man his father was. All Tony could do was say good bye for now and hopefully track it down and buy it back in the future.

It seemed a fitting end to this chapter of his life. Not very happy, somewhat ironic, but still fitting. A season of change. He had just finished at Remington and would be attending the Rhode Island Military Academy at summer's end. Senior liked their strict code of conduct and discipline and, through his smarmy lawyer, had extolled on his son's distressing need to be 'taken well in hand.' Tony had taken the condemnation with practiced ease, making the lawyer pout at the lack of expected reaction and Tony smirk at the man's disappointed back as he departed.

He'd been all but free and clear for the rest of the summer.

Except not.

"He wants to take me to Hawai'i." Tony panted breathlessly as he sank unto the wooden bench in Sifu's shed, his green eyes wide and panicked. "He said that it was a reward for my graduation and admittance to RIMA but Senior doesn’t do anything remotely like that out of the good of his coal black heart!"

He stood and started to pace nervously. "And Hawai'i? He'd never take me some place so expensive and nice. He has to be getting something out of it. Some kind of profit. What profit would having me along bring him? To sweeten a business deal? How would my being there do that?"

He gasped and turned horrified eyes to his mentor. "You don't think he's going to sell me do you?"

Suddenly, Sifu was before him, drawing him into a gently hug that had Tony going limp; his breath coming in pants against the worn thing green polo that Sifu always seemed to wear. He took a deep calming breath, taking in the scent of cut grass, wolf berry tea, noodle broth and machine oil.

"Calm yourself, xiǎo dāo." Sifu's voice was like a balm to his nerves. "In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity."

He guided Tony to the bench and poured them both some tea. "If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles."

Tony nodded and took a large sip, his heart rate slowing as rational thought pushed back the blind panic he'd worked himself into. His mind ticking into gear, he finished that particular quote from Sun Tsu's Art of War. "… If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat."

He looked down at the red berried bobbing in his enamel mug. "The importance of constant preparation, intelligence, and awareness, which are crucial when facing unforeseen circumstances."

"Exactly. Senior does not know you. He will underestimate you. You know both him and yourself. Proper preparation, situational awareness and precise decision making will be your weapons in the upcoming battle." a warm, calloused hand gave Tony's shoulder a squeeze. "Together, we will make sure that you are ready for whatever awaits you."

"Thank you, Sifu." Tony was all warm inside and he knew it just wasn't the tea.

Chang Sen Fei gave him a small, rare smile in return.

…………………………

Hawai'i  was a paradise of sights and sounds and Tony, utterly sick of recycled air and stale peanuts from the flight, was still a bit peaked when they finally touched down. Senior had given him a warning look but otherwise seemed to ignore him, leaving the boy's arrangements to his assistant. Tony was soon situated in beautifully appointed room with a view of the ocean and told to stay there until Senior called for him.

After he waved away the valet from his suitcase and watched as the harried assistant hustled the man out of the room with a hastily given tip, Tony went to his knees and unzipped the case, flipping it open and rummaging through his clothes. A small water proof pouch emerged in his hands, a treasure trove inside. A note filled book full of facts and historical sites on Hawai'i, a complete map of the island, a couple of other maps with bus routes and boating schedules between the isles. A secret stash of cash and local emergency numbers.

Another pouch held a lighter, waterproof matches and flint, a compact tarp and paracord. There was also a flat water flask, water purification tablets, some bandages and pain meds as well as a small flash light with a compass inset along with a small roll of duct tape, a whistle and some fishing line and hooks. Last to emerge were his knives. One fixed blade slipped unto his usual back belt sheath and one sturdy flip knife for his shoe.

He tucked the pouches away in the night stand for quick access and policed the rest of his clothes into the closet. He inspected some of the better outfits, making a decision to call for them to be pressed. Knowing Senior, he was more likely to spring a sudden social obligation at the last minute then glower at Tony for not being ready in time.

A call down to room service by the number written on the bedside phone soon had Tony sorted with this clothes and shoes as well as some snacks. He'd also packed a few granola bars but wanted to save them. Senior kept odd hours when he did business and he wouldn't give a damn if Tony had eaten or not.

His preparations paid off as that night he'd been roped into a fancy dinner with one of Senior's prospects and her age appropriate daughter. Ah… that was why he'd been dragged along. Tony did his best social butterfly number, utterly charming both the woman and her spoiled gremlin of a daughter and by the end of the exhausting night, he'd been rewarded with a sharp nod and permission to roam the wider hotel property for the rest of their trip. He still had to make himself available for any follow up engagements. Tony had easily accepted the terms. It was more than he's been expecting anyway. 

“He who knows the terrain, and knows himself and the enemy, will never be in peril, even in a hundred battles.” he murmured to himself, leaning on the balcony railing as he stared over the moonlit surf.

The next two days were spent exploring the resort, the nights filled with rich dinners filled with fake laughter, platitudes and raging entitlement. The fourth day came with a visit from the harried assistant, letting Tony know that his father would be flying to one of the other islands and would be back in time for their flight back to the main land. They then gave him a number to call for emergencies and rushed off to do whatever they did for Senior.

The next week was a whirlwind of sun, sea, sand and senses. The place was a trove of sensory experience and Tony dove into it all with his usual ravenous curiosity. The flora, the fauna, the sea life under crystal blue waters, the people from all over the world, all different shapes, sizes and colours, smells and accents.

He stalked and studied them, analyzed and mimicked their voices and behaviours. He learned to navigate the understairs of the resort, charming the staff and blending in with the natives with his tanned skin, his local mannerisms and almost flawless accent; doing small jobs for cash and building his nice chunk of change for emergencies.

Tony was having the time of his life, enjoying this freedom so far from bland, cold Long Island before heading off to the blander, colder RIMA for the rest of his formative years. Sadly, it was all destined to come to an end. It just didn't end how Tony had expected it. Seeing the hotel manager standing in the doorway with a policeman was an odd surprise. Learning that Senior had long checked out and had forgotten Tony in Hawai'i, not so much so.

Thankfully, they gave him time to pack and dress carefully, securing his knives about his body and tucking his pouches away in his folded suits. It also gave him time to figure out how to work the situation. Strong enough to be told things but vulnerable enough to incur sympathy. Senior would most likely spread some money around to hush everything up and blame Tony for getting left behind. If he was lucky he'd get to go back to Chandler Cottage and Sifu, if not he'd be shipped off to RIMA's summer program for early admission. He really didn't want the second option but it all depended on Senior's  mood and the outcome of the deal.

Detective John McGarret was mundane, but moved like a high level sentinel; people giving way before him as if on instinct. His handsome face and wide, easy smile belying the quiet crouched predator under the surface. Tony was low key in awe, studying the man avidly as he quickly and efficiently arranged matters at the hotel and herded the whole kit'n'caboodle to the local HPD precinct.

The gentle touch of his hand on Tony's shoulder as he gently guided him forward, the calm, open gaze that encouraged conversation, the way he stood at Tony's back when dealing with other officers and authority and the short, sometimes funny, mostly riveting stories of his time in Vietnam and the police academy. It made the option of fostering with the man and his family for a few days as they tried to track down Senior, a no brainer; his curiosity completely hooked.

John's wife Doris wasn't as easy to peg. Mundane as well, there was a touch of caution in her 'typical house wife' persona that Tony couldn't peg but she was much better at playing it off that he'd ever been. He learned a lot by studying her, covertly watching her in ways that didn't catch her intense attention, taking note of the ways she adapted to situations; even in the minutiae of being a totally normal home maker.

Their son, Steve, was a sentinel. A powerful one. Level Six if Tony had to guess. Fourteen and handsome with a healthy tan and athletic build, he had his mother's intensity and his father's gregarious nature. Steve was a charmer, weirdly both open and deeply private at the same time. He lived in the water, loving to swim and surf in the waters just off the beautiful home. He hadn't manifested his spirit animal as yet but Tony would not be surprised if he did within the next year.

Little Mary Ann was nine and as curious as Tony, asking rapid fire questions to any one close enough to her orbit. Cherry and brilliant, he found himself drawn to her bright flame, content to follow her around as she made everything an adventure. If she wasn't proven mundane, he would have sworn that she was a latent guide.

Staying with them was like living in a family sitcom, a bright and colourful household that loved each other and laughed together and said exactly what was on their minds. It was worlds away from his own family experience, so foreign from anything he'd dealt with. It made him cautious, careful, unsure in his approach. They baffled him somewhat, his usual tools and masks competing with the open sincerity the family was surrounding him.

Steve, though armed with the usual teenage surliness, was earnest with Tony and shared his love of the water; taking him swimming and teaching him to surf. They went running on the beach, played sports and eventually joined Tony in his daily Tai chi meditation. Tony found himself opening up to the older boy, the closest thing to a friend he'd ever found, sharing some of the less happy aspects of his life, his mother's traumatizing death and Senior's A+ parenting.

The other boy's quiet acceptance and steady shoulder to lean on made Tony's heart ache with longing. Is this what having a brother felt like? He'd been acutely jealous of Mary Ann in that moment before shaking it off because being around her felt like having his own little sister. It had frightened him a bit, sinking into this family too quickly for his own good. He was not one for wishful thinking and blind optimism, for wishing on a star for a happily ever after.

Even if he'd over heard John talking to Doris about what he'd learned about Senior and broached the subject of making the temporary foster a more permanent situation. Even after learning about Tony's sentinel status as 'Feeble', they'd never looked at him differently. Doris had taken him aside soon after and told him a story of how John's sister, Deborah, had been saved from a potentially deadly brain tumor after visiting a sentinel specialist who'd sniffed out her sickness. He'd been classified as 'Feeble' as well but had trained his only enhanced sense into a masterful skill.

Their showing of love and kindness without condition embraced Tony and made him loosen, made him relax and soften; completely forgetting the truth of the situation he was in. It was something he'd would probably truly regret in time but he would always consider that golden time worth the lesson harshly taught. That lesson came down out of the blue from on high in the form of Senior's smarmy lawyer showing up at the McGarrett's door.

"Disowned?" Tony's voice broke in the middle at his utter confusion. "What? Why?"

He could see the smarmy lawyer's crooked mouth moving, cataloging the words at the back of his mind but they just didn't process into sentences that made sense. Only John's steady hand in the middle of his back kept him anchored in the present. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears and all of a sudden Steve was at his side, his arms pulling Tony close as he spoke softly into his hair.

Tony swallowed heavily, feeling cold and detached as John and Doris' voices raised above his bowed head. His world narrowed down to Steve the steady thump-thump of the older boy's heart, the low words murmured just behind his ear; the arms wrapped around his trembling form.

Tony couldn't understand Senior's decision. His reasoning. His logic. He didn't even understand what being disowned meant. Was he alone? Did he have parents? Was he emancipated? Where would he live? Would he be able to go back to Chandler House? Back to Long Island? Back to Sifu? On to RIMA? His thoughts were a blur, a whirlwind that wiped out his mental scape and sent him spiraling. His breath quickened, grew painful as his vision went sideways.

Steve's voice spiked as John's and Doris' voices grew sharp and angry. He could barely make out the lawyer's yelps, the shuffling of feet and the slamming of a door before Mary Ann's scent grew close; her sweet, clear voice singing one of her favourite songs from Sesame Street. Before he knew it Tony was absently singing along, matching her word for word as her tiny hand slipped into his and squeezed.

He felt tears sliding down his cheeks, John's calloused thumb oh so gently wiping them away, his voice calm and steady as he knelt in front of the kids huddled together. Something in Tony broke in that moment and he jumped into John's arms with a sob.

"Why doesn't he want me?" was the only thing he could ask, the solitary thought crowding out all else as he keened into the man's broad shoulder; his hands gripping into the faded shirt stretched across John's back. "Why doesn't he love me?"

There was no answer that John could give for that so he just held Tony tighter as he cried. Later, as Tony lay awake, curled around Steve in his room, Mary Ann tucked against his back as they all napped before dinner; he stretched his hearing towards the kitchen where John and Doris were talking over coffee.

"… happens now? Are they going to bring in child protective services? Should we go ahead in putting forth the petition to foster?"

"It's much more complicated than that." John sighed, the hug scraping against the table top as he twisted it around. "I called in a favour from a friend in the FBI on the main land. Dinozzo's still technically his legal guardian and can decide custody, despite withholding all future monetary obligations. He's already instructed CPS and the HPD to send Tony along on the next flight to the Rhode Island Military Academy, early enrollment summer program. They have year round boarding so he wouldn't even have to see the boy until he aged out and then he'd be on his own.

The man drained the rest of his coffee and set the mug back unto the table, the chair creaking as he shifted his weight.

"Word is that the business is failing fast as he's desperate. Desperate enough to make a concerted legal play at Tony's inheritance, kept in trust by his mother and grandfather until he's 25 and 35 respectively. So far it's been impenetrable but he thinks that if he can prove Tony has a history of discipline and behavioural problems, he might get the courts into granting him stewardship if the boy can't be trusted with his accounts."

"That greedy fuck." Doris all but growled as she stood, the chair away scraping against the floor. The clink of glass and the sound of pouring liquid into ceramic followed before John spoke again.

'He's a real piece of work I'll give you that."

"Piece of shit is more like it." Doris's grumble made the man chuckle, mirthlessly.

"The investor he'd come to the big island to meet pulled out of the deal when she'd heard he'd left his kid behind without a second thought. Apparently she and her young daughter were very impressed with the boy and Dinozzo's calloused behaviour turned them off completely. He's all but skint broke behind his luxurious life style."

"So he's taking it out on his son."  The curt words were not a question.

John nodded in tired agreement, "He's taking it out on his son."

Tony eased his hearing back, breathing slowly against the headache blooming behind his eyes. Steve's shoulder was under his cheek, the soft feel of his t-shirt and the warmth of the solid form underneath, the rise and fall of his chest giving Tony something comforting to anchor to. Something to centre his senses on to keep him from drifting away. Mary Ann was a snuffling, fidgety warmth against his beck, the fur from her dog stuffy tickling along the back of his neck.

The doorknob turned and he quickly feigned sleep, hearing John's almost silent steps as he came towards the puppy pile on the bed. Tony heard him lean over them, then felt a gentle touch of knuckles brushing his forehead. John lingered for a few, quiet moments then left, closing the door behind him.

In the dark, Tony's eyes opened once more, brilliant green and jewel cold. Thoughts racing, plans being formed, examined and discarded, emotions shunted away for dealing with when he was alone and in a quiet place. No battle plan survived first contact with the enemy and Tony had long learned to shake things off and adapt.

He'd underestimated his need for family. His desire for a parent's attention and affection. He hadn't seen that part of him hidden deep within. He would have to address that going forward. Pride goeth before the fall - he'd underestimated Senior. Believing his father to be predictable. It was his mistake. He would not make another like that in the future with the man.

He'd been too rigid. Reacted blindly. He would need to be more flexible in his plans, more adaptable in his reactions. Ready to shift strategy in the face of the unpredictable. In that he would find true mastery.

"Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the enemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him." he whispered to himself in the dark of the room. "He who can modify his tactics in relation to his opponent and thereby succeed, may be called a heaven-born captain."

With his plans settled for the next morning, Tony let himself enjoy the pure comfort of laying between Steve's soft snores and Mary's sweet snuffles. His heart calming and his mind drifting, he let himself fall into deep, meditative sleep.

………………………………………

Sitting on the lanai, staring at the cordless phone, Tony carefully dialed the number Sifu had given him in case of emergencies. At it rang, he leaned back against the adirondack chair and stared out at the sunrise over the vast ocean; his mind calm as he waited. A curt voice answered abruptly.

"Yeah. Whadyawant?"

Tony could hear the usual voices and clinks of glass wares usually found in dive bars. He  gave the code words he'd been made to memorize. The voice gave a long pause before the clatter of a crate full of bottles being hauled up and carted to a quieter space came through the line.

"He's gone." the voice grunted. "Skipped town a couple of days ago without word or trace. Heard they're selling the land around the old house. Letting all who're left go."

Tony's heart sank as his eyes fell closed against the sudden sting. "Got it, thanks."

"Hey.." the voice barked before he could hang up. "Cops were crawling all over the place night before last. Apparently some bandits came and stole that big old piano right out from the fancy glass room, as well as some stuff from the old master bedroom. No leads on who done it though. Heard the old man was hopping mad when he found out. "

Tony choked out a wet little laugh, curling his body over as he shook; the sudden flood of emotion too much to handle in the moment as he managed a soft "Yeah. Ok."

"Good luck out there, kid." The voice on the phone was just as quiet before the line went dead.

Tony just let himself feel the gamut, working his way through them one by one, his breath ragged in his chest, the phone gripped in his white knuckled hand as he was caught between either laughing or crying, both equally as hysterically. Sifu… the piano … his mother's keepsakes. God, how he loved and adored that man. He knew Tony so damned well. Always looking out for his student. His xiǎo dāo. His small blade.

"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."

He wiped away tears and slumped against the chair with one last faint chuckle. "Xie Xie, Sifu. I hope to see you again some day soon and that I do you proud in times to come."

He fell into a serene silence, only the crashing of waves and cry of seagulls keeping him company as he sunk into light meditation; drifting along as a sense of peace and acceptance filled his chest.

"Hey…. you ok?"

Steve's tentative voice came from the open door and Tony blinked before turned around to give the older boy a small, genuine smile.

"I will be."

"Good." Steve seemed satisfied with the answer, his eyes deep as he took in Tony's form curled in the wooden chair. "Wanna go surfing?"

Tony laughed, loud and free into the warm breeze coming off the ocean.

"With you? Always."

Chapter Text

Because Senior managed to rub the whole of HPD as well as CPS the entirely wrong way, his  dismissive order for Tony to be sent to RIMA forthwith was taken with more than a pinch of salt… in fact, more like a cup full. John had shook his head at a confused Tony, laughing as he patted the boy's shoulder.

"Think about it as complying with the spirit of the law instead of the letter. You'll be at school before it starts. Just not this much before."

Somehow, they'd managed to change the flight Senior had begrudgingly paid for through the smarmy lawyer to just a day before the deadline, giving Tony the whole summer with the McGarretts. It was all he could do to throw his arms around John and squeeze, unable to adequately convey his mix of awe, gratitude and happiness.

The next month and a half were a whirlwind of awesome sights, delicious foods and unique and wonderful experiences; Tony taking to the island like a fish to water. He fell totally in love with the big island as well as the McGarretts, coming to treasure them as much as he'd felt for Sifu... maybe even his mother. Even though she would always hold top place in his heart.

He met Steve's friends, Mary's friends, John and Doris' friends and even Aunt Debora who'd stopped in for a surprise visit. He spent nights laying on the warm sand talking with Steve, days playing with Mary as she wove fantastical adventures for them to explore. He helped Doris with chores and John with the vintage car he and Steve were working on in their garage. It reminded him of his mother's own sky blue Aston Martin and he shared stories of their famous joyrides with the two other males, all three of them covered with oil and grease from working over the old engine.

Sometimes, he would accompany John to the precinct, mostly on days where he had to check in with CPS and the court mandated therapist they'd recommended after talking more with him. They'd promised to send the recommendation that counselling be continued at RIMA as Tony was showing significant positive progress and they didn't want him to backslide as soon as he left their purview.

Tony would hang around the officers, observing and learning what he could. A few of them were friendly enough, open to answering his well thought out questions and observations. The captain himself, charmed by Tony's respectful interest, had even thrown a few old cold cases his way; both to keep him out of everyone's hair during the day as well as to see if Tony's intuition and logic leaps were as good as the glimpses of it told him they were.

The twelve year old devoured them all, as his rabid curiosity was wont to do; and soon had a yellow legal pad filled with neat, concise writing. He would then go over his findings with which ever officers that were present in the squad room. He would field their questions and explain his theories with the care and concentration of a student defending his thesis. He always had fun and the cops more often or not came away impressed.

The end of summer came all too soon and by the time they sat around for their last dinner, Tony's bag had already been packed and placed near the door for the trip to the airport. Doris had made Tony's favourite foods and he'd forced back the all too familiar sting of tears at the care and love this family had given him so freely. He'd hugged Mary Ann tight and promised to write every week or be subjected to her dog stuffy's wrath.

He'd let Doris pull him in to her arms and run her hands through his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead as she tidied up the style she'd just mussed. He'd hugged John tight enough to hurt, telling him "Thank you for everything, Uncle John." and manfully ignoring the older man's shiny eyes.

He'd grabbed Steve's wrist and pulled him out of the house and down to the beach, the sunset painting them both in brilliant colours. Taking the boy's hands in his, Tony stared solemnly into Steve's eyes.

"You are my brother in every way…" Tony began, his voice serious and steady as he squeezed Steve's damp hands gently. "Sworn brothers… closer than kin. Bound by brotherhood, we share life and death together."

He let go of one hand and reached to the small of his back, unclipping his blade and placing it in Steve's trembling hands. "This is the best knife I've ever made and it's my favourite by far. It's yours now, to protect your back since I won't be able to. Keep it sharp and keep it close. It may just save your life some day."

"Tones…" Steve voice was reverant as the smaller boy carefully folded Steve's fingers around the sheathed blade.

Tony gave him and smile and tugged the taller boy into a hug, resting his nose against Steve's pulse point and inhaling deeply. "You've been an anchor to me in a time when I was dangerously adrift and I will never be able to thank you and your family enough for that."

He stepped back and cupped Steve's clenched jaw, wiping away a stray tear from the boy's tanned cheek. "A brother is not defined by blood, but by the weight of your name on his back, and the fire he walks through to carry it. You ever need me… I'll be there."

Steve groaned and pulled Tony in for another hug, this one lingering for a bit longer. "You are such a dweeb. It's a wonder I love you, brat."

Tony barked a laugh against Steve's chest. "I love you too, brah."

Steve gave put upon sigh, though still did move to break the hug. "We should go before mom calls us back in."

As if on cue, Doris called out from the lanai. "Tony, we need to go now if your going to make your flight."

Both boys parted with wild laughter and ran back quickly, hand in hand across the warm sand towards the woman waving them towards the house, the blade tucked safely in Steve's shorts pocket.

------------------------

The taxi dropped Tony off at Rhode island Military Academy's front gate at six am sharp, the sky still dim and the wind brisk compared to the big island's ever present heat. He glanced around at the other early bird's and the family members that came to tearfully drop them off. He got few odd looks at arriving solo but he paid them no mind as he shouldered his lone army green duffle and made his way to the Military Entrance Processing Station or MEPS for his formal enrollment and health check.

He'd spent the one day grace period from his landing to enrollment shopping for necessities with his small lumpsum of cash. Amazingly, after hearing about the whole situation with Senior, most of the HPD and even CPS had chipped in together to donate a sizeable sum towards Tony's school supplies. He'd never been so touched when John had pressed the thick envelope into his hand before the flight and he'd spent most of the long plane ride processing the emotions that came from that while running his fingertips along the paper's folded edge.

Tees and sweats, hoodies and socks, shorts and underwear. Civilian clothes for Liberty. Sports shoes for running, flip flops for bathing, dress shoes a size bigger for any formal dress. Anything else the school would either provide (no doubt with the serious money Senior paid in tuition fees - in full as mandated by the court to his ill grace) or be available for purchase in the commissary.

Hygiene products, bedding and school supplies were also squared away and ready for inspection. Sadly, military school didn't allow for private weapons and trying to sneak even his flip knife was not worth the punishment of being found with it. But, he'd adapted and moved on, losing access to one weapon did not rob him of the others in his arsenal.

Health check and evaluations, vaccinations and a haircut later, he was making his bunk to Remington standards and squaring away his gear. RIMA uniforms were dark grey slacks, white shirts, black belts and shoes with pointed dark grey cover and navy bomber jackets for colder weather. Dress uniforms were white pants, black dress shoes, dark grey dress uniform coat and white gloves. BDUs were dark green camo with sturdy boots.

His bunkmates on either side were Sikes and Gunner and they made for fast and easy companionship. Sikes was a Brooklyn Italian who'd gotten into trouble one too many times, forcing his mother to make good on her threat of military school. The kid had bright eyes, a loud mouth and a chip on his shoulder when he wasn't being the class clown. He'd had to be held down for his shots and cried when his wild dark curls were shaved but he'd rallied well enough after it was all said and done.

Gunner on the other hand was a legacy, his father's father's great grandfather helping to practically build the school brick by brick, if one believed Gunner's version of his family history. His white blonde head was already shaved high and tight and his shots were up to date so he breezed through MEPS as if it was his birth right… and to hear him talk of it, it probably was.

They were both a bit crazy but then again Tony was a bit crazy too so they stuck together and soon enough became inseparable. Gunner was a latent guide, rare in the military but he'd insisted so his family had gotten special dispensation for him to attend. Guides were sparse on the ground already and the council were loathe to let them into military service and the inherent danger it entailed. Gunner admitted bitterly that he probably wouldn't get to see combat ever so this was the best compromise his father could come up with to please both his son and the SAGC council.

Sikes was mundane but had three sentinel older bothers and a guide Ma. "Couldn't hide nothing I ever did." he'd confessed during PT, grinning as they did push ups in mud. "Got to the point I just did all the shit at once and then went home for my whoopin'. Can't lie for shit against three sentinels and an angry guide." Tony had just laughed and continued his reps.

He excelled in his studies, adopting military etiquette easily from his years at Remington. He took up football and basketball as well as fencing because it was the closest to his beloved blades as he was going to get legitimately for the next few years. Cross country came in handy for the numerous runs up and down nearby mountain trails with or without heavy packs or buckets.

He stole bits of free time to keep up his Sanda and Tai Chi, running through his Tao with a small wooden carving the same size and shape as his blade. The rest of it was spent exploring the school, feeling out the staff or his usual library haunting. More often than not the other two boys would come and wheedle him out of the 'weird book place' as Sikes liked to call it and out into the sun for pick up games of ball or obstacle course tag.

Sometimes the older students arranged for paintball matches and movie nights. Gunner joined the marching band and tried to pull Tony in but if it wasn't a piano or guitar, the boy wasn't interested in committing to long term. Sikes had loved paintball until he 'd been hit in the face with one, thank God for goggles, and had whined that 'those paint ball thingies hurt!' for a whole week after. Having him turn around and pick up boxing with a passion had shocked all three of them, frankly.

Tony dabbled in robotics because it was all metal and welding and careful planning and problem solving. He also joined the photography club as it let him wander the halls and grounds more than usual in addition to giving him an excuse to be at that particular place or time. He got some awesome shots out of it and a couple were even published in the local news paper, much to his teacher's and the school's pride.

He especially loved Weapons because it brought him up close and personal with a real life bayonet rifle. Even though modern use was mostly symbolic and he'd had to join the drill team to access the weapon regularly, it was worth it in his mind just to have it in his hands. Hours were spent happily breaking it down and putting it back together, caring for the weapon and the blade. He couldn't do it blindfolded as he'd seen some as the seniors do but he was still fast for his age and class.

Besides, being part of the colour guard gave sweet privileges if done right. It also got him off campus to perform at local base ceremonies and, with his reputation for photography, had gotten him a tour of both a naval air craft carrier and the fighter jets on board.

By the time his first summer and his thirteenth birthday approached, he was already settled in at RIMA for the long haul. He was well liked by the teachers, respected mostly by his peers, known by most of the seniors and got along comfortably with support staff.

Both Sikes and Gunner had invited him for spend time with their families over the summer months but he'd kindly declined. Although he'd come to know of them from his friends, it was another thing to crash at their homes. Besides, he was glad for the time alone to kick up his training and truly explore the vast campus. He bid them farewell at the gates and whistled a jaunty little tune, hands in his pockets, as he meandered his way back to the bunks; already making plans for the upcoming weeks.

"Cadet Dinozzo, report to the Commandant's office right away. You have a visitor."

Tony snapped to attention and whipped up a sharp salute at the man standing a few feet away. "Yes, Sir, Drill Instructor Gomez, Sir!"

He immediately set of at a sprint, securing his cover as he dodged his way around other students making their way to the gates; before ducking into the administration building and up the stairs to the Commandant's office. He snapped a salute at the officer behind the Executive Assistant's desk. "Sir, Cadet Dinozzo to see the Commandant as requested, Sir."

He was waved in and did a quick march, turning on his heel to face the large desk that dominated the well appointed office. Commandant Walker returned his salute and set him as ease so Tony settled himself at a text book parade rest. There was a man seated on the couch in the corner of the room but Tony hadn't gotten more than a cursory glance. As it was, he kept his shoulders back, chin up, eyes on the Commandant's chin.

"I've been hearing good things about you, Dinozzo." the man's voice was deep and commanding even in casual conversation. "… despite the … unusual circumstances surrounding your enrollment…  I, for one, am glad to see you thriving here and I am looking forward to seeing a lot more good from you in the future."

"Thank you Sir." Tony replied respectfully, "I will to my best to make both you and the school proud, Sir."

"Good. Very good." Walker stood with a clap. "We see a lot of potential in you, son."

Tony blinked before chancing a quick glance to the corner of the room.  "We?... Sir?"

"Yes. We." Walker stepped out from behind the desk. "Before your enrollment I was approached by an interested party about you. An old and very important friend asked me to keep an eye out for you and how you were adapting here. I have been pleased to report that you are doing well, both physically and academically; and that you have shown honour, valour, intelligence and leadership in your endevours. This news has made them very pleased."

Tony's mind raced. "And this other party?"

It couldn't be Senior. He would never spend that kind of favour just to keep tabs on Tony. He would only have had to call and demand Tony's transcripts. It wasn't John either, Tony regularly wrote letters home to Hawai'i, both Steve and Mary Ann demanding their own correspondence. Tony indulged them gladly, it wasn't like he had anyone else to write to.

Sifu had sent him a postcard once with an illustrated map of the Florida Quays. It had been empty but Tony had immediately known who it was from. He kept it pinned above his bunk and would stare at it before bed. Walker's voice brought him back to the present as the man in the corner finally stood.

"Cadet Dinozzo, I would like you to meet Sir Lawrence Paddington-Leftige."

Tony went still as his face bled into a neutral expression. "Sir Paddignton-Leftige." he murmured in greeting and bowed respectfully, his eyes narrowing as he observed the other man. Handsome face, fit physique in his expensive, tailored suit, oxfords not brogues, Bremont watch, gold signet ring and black Edmond Leather attaché case.

"I will just leave you tow to get acquainted." Walker patted Tony's shoulder and gave a small smile when Tony looked up to meet his eyes. "I'll be right outside if you need me, son."

"Yes, Sir." Tony nodded, "Thank you, Sir."

They both watched the man closed the door behind him before turning to each other. The silence lasted long seconds before Lawrence gave a rueful smile. He gestured towards the couch. "Would you like to sit, Anthony?"

Tony looked at the seat then back at the man. "I would prefer to stand, Sir."

"Very well." Lawrence acquiesced easily, walking over to set his case on the edge of the commandant's desk. "You may be wondering why I am here."

Tony tilted his head. "More like why are you here … now."

The man nodded in understanding. "A member of the family has made a request to see you."

"I thought you Paddingtons hated all Dinozzos." Tony's eyes were cold and wary.

"Oh… most of them still do." Lawrence chuckled mirthlessly as he snapped his case open

"Your father has a particular gift in that regard. But that's mostly the main branch. We are from a side branch. I am myself a simple Baronet, not at all among the peerage of our more esteemed brethren. Not all of us are too stubborn to change our minds."

"Who's us?"

"My mother and I." Lawrence pulled out a sleek leather folder and opened it to show a black and white photo of a stunning woman draped in white satin and fur. "Dame Margaret Paddington-Leftige. Your mother's great aunt and, by her own boast, he favorite aunt in the whole wide world."

Tony's green eyes devoured the details of the picture, reaching out to touch before catching himself and yanking his hand back. The woman looked so much like his beautiful, vibrant mother and it hit him like a stab just behind his ribs. Thankfully, Lawrence tactfully ignored the aborted move and rested the open folder unto the desk, free for Tony to either pick up or just look at.

"That was the only picture she would allow me to bring to show you. Vain little thing she is."

Tony couldn't pull his eyes away from it, his voice husky with emotion. "She looks just like my mother."

The older man hummed. "Funny. She said the same thing about you."

Tony's eyes fell closed as he inhaled deeply, forcing down his spiking nerves. When he opened them again, his eye were clear and serious. "Again, why approach me now?"

"We kept an eye on you through the years. My mother loved Claire dearly and it broke her heart to see her leave the family behind for your father. When we heard about her untimely demise, mother grew quite ill. She realized how much all that anger and family pride had cost her over the years. How much time's she'd lost with Claire. How she would never get the chance to reconcile with someone she saw as a most beloved daughter."

The man's shoulders slumped a little. "She says that she would not do the same with you. Claire's only son and her legacy."

"Yet you left me there… With him." Tony's words were as sharp as a knife's edge and just as unforgiving.

Lawrence nodded heavily. "Despite our wealth and influence across the pond,  we didn't have much power or reach to do anything in your father's home front. Not with how many powerful friends the man's cultivated over the years both here and abroad. We tried to reach you at the funeral…"

"I was in the hospital with pneumonia."

"Indeed. We couldn't approach you at Remington, it would have gotten back to your father and the Judge we approached advised against it and the summers had you isolated at the estate. You were young and had just lost your mother traumatically. No court would have taken you from your other parent then and we didn't have enough evidence of abuse or neglect."

"The Stout's…"

"Kept you healthy and were well within acceptable Levels of Care. The excellence you presented at Remington was also evidence towards your father's so-called 'positive parental influence' even though we all know that it was purely through your own sheer perseverance."

Tony took that hit with a bitten off gasp. His own determination to prove Senior wrong about him had actually made the man come across as a positive father figure to others. How fucking ironic. Still, he would never regret everything he'd done. It was an investment into his future self and he would never sacrifice that. Not for anyone or anything.

"So… what has changed now?"

Lawrence gave a wide grin as he pulled another folder from the case. "Now we have the leverage we need. It may not be enough to get him arrested or in jail, but it may just be enough that we can pin him just where we want him, and for my mother and I, and I think for you as well, that would serve our purposes the best."

Tony stepped closer to look at the file. "Trust Fraud?"

"Yes. Your father has been gunning hard for your trust funds for years to no avail. He's been getting pretty desperate and in his desperation, we caught him trying to pass as you at the bank because of your similar names. Thankfully, all of the security measures we've had in place over the years tipped us off and we were able to catch him in the act."

The man's grin turned distinctly shark like. "Now we have enough to hold over his head so he doesn’t hold anything over yours anymore."

Holding the folder in his white knuckled grip, Tony could only swallow heavily; his mind racing at the possibilities unfolding before him. Power over Senior, in any form, was a priceless resource. Tony knew all too what how much damage he would wield with a small blade, kept honed sharp and close at hand.

"What exactly do you want from me?"

Lawrence sighed and leaned against the edge of the large desk. "My mother doesn’t have much time left and doesn't want to miss you before she goes. Her greatest regret was not reconciling with dear Claire in time. She doesn’t want to make that mistake again."

He took the folder back from Tony and packed both back into the case before snapping it closed. "We would like for you to visit this summer with her. Spend some time getting to know each other and then you can decide whether or not you would like to build a relationship with those of us on the other side of the pond."

"And the main branch?"

"Mother may be getting on in years but she still holds a lot of power within the family. She will keep them all away and out of your hair."

Maybe it was his time at the McGarretts. Maybe it was how closely the Dame resembled his mother and the chance at learning more about her childhood. Maybe it was a slim chance of actually finding family by blood. Maybe it was the potential of stronger allies against Senior. Maybe it was Tony's healing and hopeful heart.

"Ok. I'm in."

------------------

Colterstone Keep was like something out of a story book, a huge stone castle on a hill, surrounded by verdant forests and sprawling farmlands. The name seemed fitting as the first Baronet Leftige had been a farmer baron and the word 'colter' meant 'a vertical cutting blade fixed in front of a ploughshare.' It sat high above the rest of the property and had clear look out views in all directions, including a crystal lake, nearby village and ancients ruins of a tower once used to defend against marauders.

Dame Maggie, or Mags as she wanted to be called; was a firecracker and Tony liked her immediately. Witty, funny, sassy and draped in her best furs and jewels; tucked into one of those huge ornate canopy beds he'd seen in movies. She was on Doctor's orders for bedrest but that didn't dim her bright spark of personality one bit.

 "I might as well wear it all now. I can no longer wait for a special occasion, so I have become the occasion." she'd scoffed, gesturing to her get up before patting his hand. "Won't fit into my coffin anyway."

They hit it off right away, much to the joy and relief of Lawrence and Mags' matron, Siobhan. They talked, crying over old photo albums, laughing over funny memories and raging over the shared hatred of Senior and his actions over the years.  He'd hugged her and kissed her cheek as her energy flagged, letting her cup his cheek gently as she wept and called out his mother's name. As Siobhan stayed behind to tend to the Dame, Lawrence was waiting in the hall outside, his eyes warm and filled with relief as Tony gave him a small smile.

"Thank you, Anthony." the older man's voice was a bit emotional, "You've brought her so much joy. Both of us, really."

"Well, she's incredible." Tony grinned. "And I have a feeling that it would be an amazing experience to know her better."

Lawrence stopped and blinked in pleasant surprise. "You've already decided to stay?"

"I mean, for the summers… yeah." Tony shrugged, his hands tucked into his pockets. "… maybe even Christmas if you'll have me… easter? … when I'm not in school."

His cousin's smile slowly widened as he placed a hand on Tony's shoulder slowly enough so that the boy could pull away if he wanted. Tony didn't and took comfort in the familiar touch.

"Good. I'm glad. I hope that you know that you will always have a family in us" he gave the shoulder a squeeze before guiding him back down the hall once more. "Welcome home, Anthony."

Tony flushed and ducked his head. "Thanks. I'll hold you to that."

Lawrence laughed and wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulder and pulled him in for a quick one armed hug. "See that you do."

The summer is wonderful. Hiking, riding bicycles and learning to ride and care for horses. Lawrence arranged for private tutors to continue his hand to hand and weapons training and organized a blacksmith to help with Tony's blade craft. Tony ran, did his Tao and Tai Chi and used his sensing techniques to map the new environment. He charmed the staff, made acquaintances with a few of the locals and showed his face around the small town. He studied maps of the estate, the county and the neighbouring shires; the bus and train routes as well as how to change some of his USD into pounds sterling.

On her good days, Mags, who'd been livelier than anyone had seen her in a long time, would take Tony out in her vintage Rolls Royce, painted yellow like in the film, and would let Tony drive it along the empty country lanes, much to Lawrence's equal parts exasperation and dismay. At least with both Siobhan and a young valet named Peter along, Lawrence could relax and not be so worried about his mother's wayward habits. On her bad days, Tony would sit with her and read aloud, listen to her reminisce about his mother or play the grand piano as she sat in a comfy armchair, tucked up into thick blankets.

Tony learned how to drive a horse and carriage, service the Rolls Royce and navigate a sail boat on the lake. He roamed the walking trails, shopped in the small village and scoured the castle library. He'd learned all he could about the tower ruins and made more than one hike to the clifftop site, taking his camera and sketchbook along.

He sat in with Lawrence and Mags as they discussed what exactly to do about Senior and how they would handle him going forward. Tony was pleased to be treated like an equal, information shared freely and his wants and opinions considered. Together, they came up with a list of safeguards and guarantees that they could squeeze out of the man without pushing too far . Senior had a tendency to get unpredictable and spiteful when backed too far into a corner.

One day, near the end of summer, as Tony was sitting at the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys as he played one of his mother's favourite songs; a mans' sharp voice broke his reverie.

"They were right. You do look so much like her."

Tony looked up at the man standing in the doorway, taking in as much details as he could from under hooded eyes. He could pick up the acrid smell of hostility mixed with expensive cologne coming off the swarthy man, his muscular arms folded across his muscular chest; his handsome face carved into a scowl.

"… but you still look like a filthy Dinozzo to me."

Tony recognized him from old photos, Lord Clive Paddington, Claire's eldest brother and Tony's direct uncle. Both Mags and Lawrence had spoken of the current head of the main branch's hatred for Senior for taking away his beloved sister not once… but twice. He'd refused to give any ground on the matter for years while Claire was alive and had been robbed of any future reunion with her tragic death.

Tony rested his fingers gently on the keys, greeting the other man respectfully. He could understand the man's attitude, he'd felt the same riot of emotions after his mother's death, been down that same spiral. The difference was that Tony had decided to do the emotional work to get himself out of the downward slide and on the path to healing. And all when he was eight years old and traumatized. Clive, frankly, had no excuse for not doing the same.

Luckily, Mags appeared behind him in the next moment, escorted by a grim looking Lawrence and followed by an attentive Siobhan. She was dressed to the nines and wearing her favourite fur.

"Clive…" her voice dripping with authority and barely concealed sarcasm as she settled in he usual chair like the queen she was. "If I had known that you were dropping by, I would have told you not to come."

"Auntie…" Clive's shoulders slumped as he flushed.

"Nephew." the old lady countered sharply. "You know my feelings about this. I believe that I have made my opinion and decision clear. I've lost too much time over the years. Lost my beautiful Claire far too soon. I will not… WILL NOT… let the same thing happen with the only connection to her that I have left."

"He's a Dinozzo!"

"He's your sister's son."

"He's also his father's son. Blood will out, I tell you."

"He's Claire's legacy." The Dame's cane slammed against the polished hardwood. "He's also the Paddington-Leftige Heir."

The room went dead silent, both Tony and Clive staring at the mother and son in barely concealed shock. Clive seemed to recover first, snapping shut his hanging jaw.

"What?" he shook his head, "You can't be serious? Lawry!"

Lawrence just looked at Tony, giving him a warm smile before nodding at the still gaping Clive. "Serious as the grave, dear cousin."

Tony absently listened to the rest of the short and heated conversation, his mind too busy racing with the truth bomb that had just been dropped on him. Heir. To both Maggie and Lawrence, family he'd barely known for a summer. They may have been keeping tabs on his for years but this was still too soon, too sudden. The baronet title was hereditary. He would be Sir Anthony in years to come. It seemed too big to wrap his head around.

Maggie's voice calling his name had him crossing the room to kneel at her feet, Clive was gone and Lawrence stood near the door looking on nervously. Tony took her hands in his tenderly, his green eyes meeting her warm ones.

"Why?" his question sounded simple but seemed horribly complicated.

"Because we love you already." she cupped his cheeks and pulled him close enough to kiss his forehead. "We've always loved you, my dear boy. My Claire's treasure."

Tony let his head rest against their clasped hands, tears coming to his eyes as his heart beat wildly in his chest. He shuddered and curled inwards as Lawrence's hand came to rest in the middle of his back, using their shared touch to anchor the storm roiling within him.

His chest felt warm and full, light and all floaty as he let himself enjoy the comfort of their touch. In such a short while, they'd both smuggled into his life and entrenched themselves into his soul. With their sincerity, trust, kindness and care; their actions that proved more valuable that empty words.

They'd proven themselves by more than just blood. Senior shared blood and was still unworthy. Like Sifu, like the McGarretts, both Mags and Lawrence had made the effort to build the connection, to build the love, loyalty and trust brick by brick, action by action; like the castle around them, like the tower up on the hill. Built strong to last for ages.

"I love you too, Aunty." He whispered against Maggie's hand, a smile curling on his lips when she brought up a hand to run through his spiky hair. He relaxed into the touch and gave them both a brilliant, happy smile.  "I love you, too."

-----------------------

Back at RIMA, he fell back into routine without a hitch. School work, training, sports and drill team. Sikes and Gunner eager with hilarious stories of their summer and give him his birthday gifts, happy to listen when Tony shared his own wild experience in England. He got better with the bayonet, managing to wrangle a few demonstration lessons for the drill team by the school's Weapons Master. It eventually turned into a monthly 'staged combat performance' with a visiting expert and that raised Tony's rep amongst the other year groups.

He was given more opportunity for leadership, no doubt tests sent down from Walker himself; and did his best to rise to each challenge. He added Lawrence and Mags to his correspondence list and looked forward to mail days even more.

It took two whole months for Tony to be sure that the letters from the McGarrets had stopped and had not just been misplaced of delayed. The lack of contact had been worrying at the back of Tony's mind for a good few weeks, too many worries and fears sprouting like weeds. He'd sure put his mediation and practice of patience to good use during that time, Sifu's steady voice and sage advice echoing in his head as soon as he entertained anything close to a foolish, snap decision.

It wasn't like he could go AWOL and head to Hawai'i, could he? No… not logistically anyway. He bought a phone card off campus and tried to call the residence, getting no answer. Eventually he gave in and called the police station, only to be shocked and devastated by the news of Doris' death and the subsequent move to the mainland for the McGarrett kids.

That left him like a zombie for days, both his bunkmates stepping in like champs as he'd been sent reeling, unable to process such upsetting events so quick in succession. Another Liberty and another phone card later, he finally managed to reach John. Talking to the man felt alien, as if he were a completely different person.

This John was hollow, empty of the energy that had first drawn Tony to him like a moth to a flame. The conversation was an exercise in frustration, John remaining tightlipped about what happened or why he'd sent Steve and Mary Ann away from the only home they'd ever known so soon after losing their mother.

"You know what that will do to them right?" Tony's voice was calm and cold, impotent anger simmering just under the surface. " You saw first hand what that exact thing did to me."

A tired sigh came across the scratchy line "It's not that simple."

"Isn't it?" Tony tried not to snarl. "Losing their mother so suddenly then being all but banished from the only life they'd ever known without even knowing why, losing their other parent at the same time as a result? You don't think they'd be hurt and confused with no one but each other?"

John mumbled a few quiet words and Tony gasped a sharp breath, heat beginning to crawl up his neck. "They're not together? They don't even have each other? My God. Why would you even do that?"

"It's for their own good."

John seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than Tony. He felt the acid dissapointment with the man clawing up his throat and forced himself to swallow it down. Calm, he needed to stay calm.

"More like for your own good." he sniped before he could stop himself. John protested but he cut the man off.

"How do you think I would have turned out if I've been sent straight to RIMA straight from Hawaii? With no McGarrett family to save me, to show me love and hold me together? After my mother died, not a day went by that didn't wish I'd gone with her. I lost my whole world that day, you know Senior was never any kind of father to begin with."

He leaned his forehead against the plastic wall of the phone booth, "Now both Steve and Mary are out there all alone and you expect them to just get over it? How? And what if whatever you are messed up in goes sideways and you die… because I know that you're deep into something fucked up because the John I know would have been there for his kids after losing the love of his life, come hell or high water. So that means there's probably both hell and high water around you."

He cut off John's sputter once again. "But what if you die? What if whatever this is kills you? You know it's going to break Steve if you die without him ever knowing the reason why. You know how much his sentinel instinct drives him? How much his tribe means to him? How could you think to rip that away from him?"

He realized his voice was starting to break, his eyes going blurry with unshed tears. He gripped the payphone tight to stop his hands from trembling.

"You're so fucking blind that you can't see how much this will damage them. You say it's for their own good? More likely just easier for you so you can live in denial and not have to face the fact that you are the one destroying your family with your shitty life choices. Go get some help and stop doing everything by yourself like some stupid lone wolf. Handle your shit and bring your kids back home and tell them you love them, John. And don't die while doing it. There is no other choice than that. No other road to take. Do you understand me, Detective McGarrett? DO YOU?"

He screamed at the dial tone as John abruptly hung up, slumping against the door as he tried to breathe though the anger throbbing in his temples. He tries to slip into meditation, frustration, fear and rage roiling and heavy like boiling oil filing his chest and pressing, burning against his organs. A crisp knock had him blinking up at the concerned sentinel standing on the other side of the glass panel, asking if he was ok.

Tony managed to give a shaky nod, moving aside enough that the older woman could work the door open and help Tony to unsteady feet. She guided him to a nearby bench and sat with him as he did his calming exercises. Thankfully, she didn't ask any questions as he was in no mood to share. She handed him a water bottle from a nearby café, silently taking in his RIMA uniform, navy jacket all zipped up in the chilly fall weather. By the time he'd finished the bottle, he was back on an even keel and he thanked the sentinel for her care and concern but declined the suggestion to visit the local SAGC office.

They probably wouldn't want to concern themselves with a 'feebo' kid anyway.

He used the rest of his phone credit to all his cousin, quickly letting Lawrence know about everything and asking him to take a low key look into the situation as well as to find out where John had sent Mary and Steve.

Another week of working almost manically so as not to drive himself crazy with waiting, Sikes and Gunner having to drag his exhausted ass back to his bunk where he slept like the dead. With no more Liberties on his roster, he couldn't leave the school; and just when he'd been running through plans of stealing an international call or sneaking off campus, Lawrence came through with a visitor waiting in Walker's office.

The man's name was Huxley and he was a US based fixer on retainer for the Paddington-Leftiges. He handed Tony a small file pouch and a satellite phone before giving the boy a sharp nod and making his leave. Tucking the phone into his jacket, Tony thanked the Commandant when he came back from giving them some privacy, and headed straight to a place remote enough for the privacy he needed.

There wasn't much about what John was embroiled in, even though Lawrence had sent Huxley to approach him as well; but the report on Doris' death was chock full on details. He combed the papers for Mary and Steve, exhaling with relief to see thee young girl living with her Aunt Debora in Louisiana at least.

His rage came back in full force to see Steve enrolled with full room and board at the Army and Naval Academy all the way in California with any kind of family connection or support states away. They were all in different parts of the country, isolated and all alone. He'd growled, the remote location allowing  him to vent out loud some of the anger burning along his skin. The sentinel in him was upset, angry that his tribe was so scattered, without protection or care.

He quickly checked the time, he had another twenty minutes before he really needed to be somewhere. He rifled through the folder and dialed Debora's contact. It was after school hours in Louisiana and there was a good chance of getting Debora, maybe even Mary herself if he was lucky.

"Hey, Princess." he soothed as he listened to Mary sob over the staticky line. "It's ok sweetheart, I love you and I miss you too."

It pained him to listen to her suffering, his heart twisting as she wailed out her hurt and fear. He managed to get her calmed enough to make arrangements with Debora for Tony to call again and to convince Mary to start writing once more. He hid both the folder and SAT phone with its solar charger in his bolt hole and sprinted back to the main campus for class; no time to chance a call to Steve.

Steve refused to answer all subsequent calls, even after almost twenty minutes of Tony using his most charming tricks with the suspicious staff to even put him through to the boy's unit. He'd cursed a blue streak at Steve's idiot behaviour, even though he totally understood the pain and anger that was no doubt smashing through the boy's life like a wrecking ball. Still, Tony wasn't one to give up. Steve was his brother and the boy needed someone at his back, especially now. He'd just have to come up with another solution, that's all.

“Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare there are no constant conditions.” he murmured to himself as his mind began to quickly form and discards plans, packing his secret stash away and starting a quick jog back to the bunkhouse. He had drill team in ten minutes and a bayonet was calling his name.

Steve may have wanted to be alone but he'd have to be alone with Tony right by his side. He was his brother and that was a promise the green eyed boy would never take lightly. The older teen was going to find out exactly what he'd meant that day about carrying the weight of his name through fire. A grin of anticipation spread wide across his face as he ran. Steve wasn't even going to know what hit him.

-----------------------

"Looks like someone's been eating their Wheaties."

Steve shaded his eye against the California sun, staring up at the silhouette standing above the dug out. He was panting, crusted in dirt and exhausted from extra time at the obstacle course so it took him a few long moments to recognize the both the voice and the face smiling at him.

"Tony?"

 "Surprise!" The smaller boy grinned and gestured to Steve sitting in a mud pit then towards his pristine RIMA uniform. "Heya, Stevadore. I would hug you but… you know."

"What are you doing here?" Steve scrambled up the sharp dirt incline. "How are you even here?"

"Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected.” Tony's grin turned smug. "You refused to take my call, asshole. I had to improvise."

He held up a hand at Steve's scowl. "Commandant Walker is visiting our West Coast Sister Academy for school stuff and I managed to convince him to bring me along as a student rep and photographer. So congrats, you're my official liaison and guide for the day. Let's get you cleaned up so you can show me around this place."

Steve looked pissed but Tony didn't give a shit. They were brothers. That’s how it was. Steve would just have to suck it up and get over it.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Tony shrugged as he jogged along to Steve's long stride. "And I'm not here to make you talk. I am here to remind you that I'm your brother and I will always have your back. I told you it that I was life or death for us, Stevie Wonder. You remember that don't you? I don't break promises, shark boy."

He threw his arm out towards the sprawling muddy training grounds.

"So lets get you de-mucked and you can show me what's cool around this popsicle stand while I tell you about my crazy summer. And call your sister, you jerk. You can't tell me your sentinel's not going rabid at not hearing her voice. Stop hurting her and yourself as some kind of punishment you think you deserve or I will find a reason to come back here and kick our ass right into the pacific ocean; even though you shot up like a fucking weed and have like seven inches and fifty pounds of muscle on me. I've been practicing with a real life bayonet you know. I could still take you."

"Yeah, right." Steve scoffed before yelping as Tony kicked across and got him in the ass. Thankfully there wasn't anyone else around to see him jump and turn red.

They spend the next few hours exploring the USANA campus as Tony filled Steve in his time in England, the deal with Senior and what he'd learned about both John and Mary Ann. He could see the hurt and upset plain on Steve's face but didn't broach it, just promising to keep the boy informed of any news as he got it.

He advised the taller boy against trying to go home, calling on his sentinel instinct to override his emotional upheaval. "What John needs right now is for both you and Mary to be safe and out of the way so he can make the moves he needs to make to get himself out of the other side of this alive and well. He has Huxley at his back with the extra help and resources he needs."

Tony clapped a hand on Steve's tense shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "What you need to do is stay right here and grow stronger. Learn the skills you need to protect your tribe. Better yourself with the resources and training only this place can give. Be there for your sister, keep your family together in every way you can right now. You've got Mary Berry, you've got Aunty Debs, you've got your dad, kinda…, and you've got me. Always."

His hand slid up to cup the back of Steve's neck, pulling the taller boy down so that their foreheads touched. "I've just gotten a family, Steve-o… I can't lose my brother now."

They hugged it out after Steve escorted him back to the Admin building, both Commandant Walker and the Navy Vice Admiral who was the current Superintendent  of USANA watching as they embraced. Tony made the introductions and he could tell both men were impressed by Steve's respect and well carried etiquette. It was always a good thing to have friends in higher places and he wanted Steve's place here to have a strong support base.

"Answer when I call next time, jerk." Tony warned him before Steve left to report for training, punching him lightly in his broad shoulder. "And write me back."

"Thanks, brah." Steve gave him one of his sweet smiles and softly agreed, pulling the younger boy in one more time for a tight, almost painful hug before waving good by and dashing off to class. Tony watched, hands in his pockets, as his brother's familiar form disappeared between the campus' squat building before laughing softly to himself.

"I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. … A promise. ‘Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee.’ … And I don’t mean to…. I don’t mean to."

Chapter Text

Tony clapped enthusiastically at the end of Gunner's moving valedictorian speech, grinning with pride as he joined the rest of the auditorium in their standing ovation. It was a fitting end to the memorable years he'd spent at the Rhode Island Military Academy. On the day he'd been dropped at the gate by taxi at twelve, he'd been resigned to his fate and Senior's machinations. Six years later and he was deeply grateful for all the things he'd learned, all the ways he'd grown and the man he'd become.

He'd found his stride and excelled at RIMA. Captain of the Drill Team, Head of the Photography Club, 4.0 GPA maintained, basketball, football, boxing and cross country. College pre-classes in military leadership, ethics, tactics, political science, military history and computer sciences. He'd also kept up with his languages, martial arts and remained ravenous in his private reading habits. It had taken some serious time management and task juggling but he'd made it work.

'Smarter not Harder' became his constant creed as the years went by.

Tony spent his senior year as the XO to Gunner's Cadet Battalion Commander, both of them dragging Sikes along, kicking and screaming into being Logistics Officer. The boy had ended up loving the challenge of it and often spoke of wanting to go into business right after school. Gunner was heading straight for West Point and an officer's commission with a sure spot in a tactical think thank that was being set up probably all Top Secret and Burn After Reading.

Walker had kept a close eye on him over the years, keeping him close as something of a student aide-de-camp, which afforded Tony many unique and amazing opportunities and experiences as he followed the man and his staff to places he would have never been able to access; even with the Paddington-Leftige name behind him. Aircraft carriers, military bases, submarines, the National Library of Congress, the Pentagon, the Capitol building and even the White House that one time, though Tony never saw the president himself but did meet the First Lady.

Summers had been spent in England with Mags and Lawry, Easters with either Sikes or Gunner's families and Christmas with the McGarretts. John had eventually gotten his hell or high water business dealt with without loss of life or limb; though it had stirred up a real shit storm within the HPD and he'd ended up retiring and becoming a private investigator.

Mary had eventually moved back to the big island and was going to therapy to work through the trauma of her mother's death and subsequent parental abandonment to Aunt Debora's in New Orleans but was making a real effort to heal the relationship with her dad. She was also determined to become a marine biologist and was already taking pre-courses and volunteering at a local aquarium towards that goal.

Steve decided to stay at USANA and continue his education, going straight into Navy SEAL training after graduation, secretly admitting to Tony that he'd ended up loving the life he'd been dumped unceremoniously into. He was still working through his sentinel's deep anger and resentment at his father's betrayal but still made it home for every Christmas, his instinct to his tribe still driving him. 

John had shown true regret in the damage he'd done to his family and had allowed himself to be coaxed unto the therapy bandwagon by all three of their earnest resolve faces. He was still a little grumpy about Tony reading him the riot act that day but was grateful for the wake up call anyway. That and the indispensable back up provided by Huxley along with Paddington-Leftige resources.

Sikes' Ma was as equally intimidating and loving as the boy had vividly described. Beautiful and vivacious, her voice could go from song bird to hawk from one breath to another and Tony found himself obeying her words just as he would his CO back at RIMA. She'd hugged him tightly and thanked both him and Gunner for keeping her son on the straight and narrow and helping to temper his restlessness. Tony had just melted into the hug while Sikes grinned like a jackal around the bagel hanging from his mouth.

Along with the boy's three older sentinel brothers, they would run around seeing the sights, testing his senses, exploring the city and getting into mischief before coming back home to eat his weight in Ma's delicious and generous portions; dragging a whining Sikes out every morning just to keep themselves fighting fit. The house was loud and always crazy and Tony had loved every minute of it.

Gunner's home was almost the opposite but no less happy and loving. They were a close knit military family, having moved so many times in the past to follow his Admiral father's assignments that they ended up valuing family connections over material possessions. Their lakeside home was well appointed and nestled between crystal clear waters and verdant forests, warm and welcoming like his cheerful mother and two precocious younger sisters. The Admiral was stern yet smiled easily when around his family, his white blond hair cut high and tight just like his son's.

They spent most of their time on Gunner's sail boat, swimming in the lake, hiking along the forest trails or playing board games with his monopoly obsessed sisters. Tony would lose hours in the family library, mostly the gold mine of military histories and biographies; if he wasn't tromping around forest paths, stretching his sight, sound and smell in the natural environment.

Summers at Colterstone Keep brought quality time spent with the always effervescent Dame Mags, varied training with different tutors provided by Lawry and long hours spent sweltering in the kiln they'd built for him at the castle to smelt his own blades. He also took short correspondence courses from both Oxford and Cambridge in languages, public speaking, STEM, entrepreneurship and innovation.

As the official Paddington-Leftige heir, he'd also taken classes in estate management, diplomacy, protocol and governance; often accompanying his cousin as he attended to his duties as Baronet. In the summer of his sixteenth birthday, he'd met Crispian, Catherine and Chesterfield Paddington at one of the fancy garden parties. Clive's kids had been 17, 14 and 12 respectively, with the same colouring as their father with their mother's delicate features.

They were aloof to him but civil enough under Lawry's sharp gaze, sticking close to Clive and away from the 'crazy' side branch. Clive, on the other hand, had mellowed out a bit over the years, though he still kept an vast emotional distance from Tony and his Dinozzo blood. The teen hadn't minded, though he would have preferred to have a better relationship with her mother's only brother; he wasn't going to beg for anyone's affection.

He had Sifu, the McGarretts and both Mags and Lawry to show him love and accept him for who he was. He wasn't that needy, lonely little grieving kid anymore. Mags had formally adopted him into the family at fifteen and had even organized dual citizen ship for him; changing his name officially to Anthony Domenico Sebastian Paddington-Leftige Dinozzo.

It was a real mouthful so he still went by Tony Dinozzo legally in the US; dropping the junior, of course. When asked by Lawrence about his choice to keep his father's name Tony had given his cousin the reasoning he'd been long contemplating.

"It's my name now..." he'd declared softly as they'd both sat in front of a cackling fire on night. "… my identity for my entire life, my achievements, my history. The Dinozzo blood in me isn’t only from my father. It's from a long line of ancestors encompassing my grandparents and my extended family through the ages and I won't let him take those roots from me."

He's stared down into the glass in hid hands, "He doesn’t get to define the name… I do. And I have done so with excellence, despite him telling me that I'm nothing… that I have always been nothing and will always be nothing… that I wouldn't ever rise above the gutter. He doesn’t get to take anything from me anymore."

He tipped his head back to look at his solemn cousin. "I also want to use the name in the US. It's already on all my records and even though I am honoured to be a Paddington-Leftige, I don't want to advertise the name until I'm ready. It would bring too much unwanted attention and scrutiny to both me and you."

After the graduation ceremony and a delicious dinner attended by the Sikes', the Gunner's, the McGarretts and Lawrence; he'd bid both of his best friends a cheerful and goodbye, vowing to stay in touch, no matter where life took them. They'd been his best friends and brothers at RIMA, keeping him afloat and moving forward when he'd felt overwhelmed and pulled in too many directions. He wouldn't have survived and thrived as well as he did without them.

They had his loyalty for life and Tony always kept those promises.

Commandant Walker had given him a glowing recommendation, clasping his shoulder as he shook his hand, telling him to keep in touch and that he looked forward to seeing what good Tony would accomplish in the future. He'd even invited Tony back to lecture at the school and that he would always have a home at RIMA. Tony had flushed with pride under his families' proud gaze and readily agreed.

His choices for college were much wider with his families' solid support and the first of his mother's trusts maturing and coming into his control. After much research and weighing his options, he finally chose the University of Nevada, Reno (UNR) with a double major in Criminal Justice and Psychology, accepting partial scholarships for both football and basketball. Surrounded by beautiful nature, rugged mountains, Lake Tahoe and the bustling city of Reno, the college seemed perfect for Tony who was looking for social freedom after the rigid structure of both Remington and RIMA.

He was a few hours drive or an hour by plane to where Steve was stationed at Naval Base Coronado, California when he wasn't deployed with the SEAL team. With easy flights available to both the Big Island and Heathrow Airport, he was comfortably connected to his family. An hour away from Lake Tahoe and a few more away from the bright lights of Vegas, Tony knew that he would never be bored during his college years. Thankfully, UNR had an option to apply for concealed carry so, with some luck, he would once again be able to carry his knives on campus.

And so the next chapter in the life of Tony Dinozzo was about to begin.

It was also the end of Senior's legal obligation.

With Tony's trusts well and truly out of his hands, Lawrence's full army of lawyers, vast international connections and blackmail they had over Senior's head had made the man strapped for cash. Dinozzo Import and Export was failing, too reliant on tapping Claire's assets to keep injecting life into the business. With the joint bank account empty, the life insurance spent, most of the antiques and land holdings sold and the trust funds out of reach; Senior's coffers were running dry.  

Tony learned from Lawrence that Senior was thinking of selling the Great House at long last and had been asked if he was interested in visiting it again once more. Tony had declined, not interested in seeing the old ghosts of the mansion nor of Chandler Cottage once more. Sifu's shed just was an empty galvanized room without the man's serene presence and the family crypt was a cold stone monument nothing like his vibrant, beautiful mother. He broached the subject of having Claire's remains exhumed and brought back home to England and they discussed what concessions they would give to convince Senior to agree.

With too much back and forth, they'd agreed to destroy the evidence of trust fraud and pay a sum of five million dollars. Even though Tony had thought Senior too greedy, he understood Mags' willingness to use her fortune to bring her dear girl back home. Lawrence, ever the shark he was, still pressed Senior into signing an agreement forbidding him from ever trying to use Tony's name or likeness for profit else he forfeit the moneys along with a 200% penalty. It was the final cut of the familial bond between father and son and the sentinel in Tony felt both mentally and emotionally ready to let Senior fade into his past and out of his tribe.

He visited spent a week with Aunt Deb in New Orleans, along with Mary and Steve, who was lucky enough to be on leave in between missions. A spitfire as always, Debora had them all in stitches with her sharp humour and dry wit. Her food was rich, flavourful and plentiful and they all gained weight over the visit, despite Tony and Steve dragging Mary along for their early morning runs.

Mary, now more mature and developing her own firecracker personality, led them to awesome sights, tastes and experiences around her old stomping grounds, even chartering a boat to take the boys out to the bayou that inspired her interest in marine biology.

The nights were spent out on the mesh framed back patio, watching the fireflies dance as they drank and talked. Well, Tony and Steve drank while Mary sipped the mocktail versions of the drinks Debora liked to experiment with.

From there Tony flew down to Florida and rented a jeep to drive down to the Florida Quays where Sifu worked in the back of a small surf and tackle shop next to a sun and beer soaked bar. As they sat on a hand made wooden bench in the doorway of his wooden work shed, sipping on hot wolfberry tea from enamel cups; Tony felt the kind of peace that spoke of long history and deep affection.

Sifu was tanned nut brown, his hair more salt than pepper with the smile lines round his eyes carved deeper. There were small boats and surf boards scattered around in various states of repair, showing signs of Sifu's woodworking level of skill. The sun was warm on their skin and the coastal breeze was sweet with the heady scent of fruits and flowers blooming. He let his senses stretch out, drifting further and further as he drank his tea. Sifu's steady breaths and heartbeat had Tony relaxing into a meditative state, the other man's mere presence giving him a sense of security that let him reach both further and deeper than he'd ever been before.

His week was spent helping the man around the small repair yard, drinking and chatting with the owner of the shop and bar, a former comrade from the same army unit; and using the skills he'd learned from Steve to making a good enough showing of surfing the waves. Sifu tested his Sanda and made him spar everyday, both one on one and two on one with Sifu and his comrade.

He'd inspected Tony's knives and nodded in smug approval that had Tony ducking his head and blushing like the boy he'd once been. At the end of the week, he'd hugged the now smaller man for a long time, whispering his thanks into the same faded green polo.

"Thank you for saving this boy's life all those years ago." Tony's voice shaky with emotion. “A life given back is no small gift; it echoes across seasons, a debt repaid not with words, but with loyalty.”

“One life spared becomes two lives entwined…" Sifu grinned back at him, his eyes shining with emotion as he clapped a warm hand on Tony's shoulder and gave him a shake before reaching up to cup the back of Tony's neck  " … what was once chance becomes a sacred bond.”

Tony hugged him once more, both of them wiping away tears as they finally parted. Tony promised to write and cheekily requested more than a blank post card in return next time. He laughed and  ducked a half hearted swipe and escaped to his jeep, grinning all the way back to the mainland.

The rest of the summer was spent with Mags and Lawry at the London Penthouse; his great aunt's health revived enough for travel to the city, even though most of her time was spent in the spacious apartment with Tony and Lawry at her delighted beck and call. He attended parties, rubbing elbows with Lawry's social and business circles as he was slowly introduced to society as the heir.

He was also introduced to the London branch of the family, various aunts, uncles and second and third cousins who were all odd and quirky in unique ways. Tony loved watching them, satisfied to sit by Mags' side and observe as the extended family talked and gossiped and quarreled over each other like both old friends and forsworn enemies at once.

His most interesting cousin was a Q at MI6, whose sharp wit and engaging conversation had Tony hooked almost immediately. Edwin, or Eddie as he liked to be called casually, had taken to Tony equally as easily and; after learning about Tony's goal of working in law enforcement, had arranged for a short four week internship in the Assessment and Analysis Unit.

Thanks to his dual citizenship and family name, Tony was approved and spent an exciting month working over old, unclassified files for training in pattern recognition, source validation, and bias elimination; simulating real time decision-making based on past scenarios and practicing crisis thinking, inter agency information dissemination and producing clear and concise reports.

He spent a fun couple of days testing bladed weapons for Q branch and made a name for himself for his dedication and willingness to learn on the gun range. He sparred in the gym with fellow interns and agents alike, soon shaking off the impression of being a pretty little rich boy with family connections and building a reputation of a shard eyed, quick thinking young man, confident in his skill yet still willing to humble himself in order to learn.

By the end of his time, the higher ups were impressed and offered him a chance to do some actual intelligence analysis work on a case basis and, after discussing it with both Eddie and Lawry; Tony agreed to help if his college coursework allowed. Q quickly agreed and happily promised to send him a secure laptop when he got settled in at college.

His last stop before Nevada was a visit to a private London clinic for a sperm deposit and reversible vasectomy. Though Lawrence had balked at Tony's decision, Mags was more accepting on his reasoning for getting the procedure done. Tony's main focus was his education and career and was nowhere ready to have children. He still wanted it as an option in the future though.

He also wanted to have a fall back plan so that in case anything happened to him in the future, they would still be able carry on both his and his mother's legacy. It seemed like a cold topic to discuss and plan for but Tony had always been pretty pragmatic on subjects others deemed sensitive. Eventually, with Lawrence finally on board, Tony checked himself into the elite clinic and took care of business. For himself and for his family.

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Reno was hot but it was a dry heat so he wasn't sweating though his shirt as he lugged his bag up to the dorm. Orientation was simple enough and he'd already done his pre-requisite research about the campus, the city beyond and the surrounding area so he was pretty much set in terms of finding his way around.

The dorm was a three group accommodation he'd gotten there early enough to claim the single room, leaving his two new roomies to haggle over the bunks in the double. The place was clean enough with nice bright windows and a small common area and kitchenette. He gave the place a thorough check after dumping his military duffle on the bed,  and headed down to the campus mini-mart for some cleaning supplies, drinks and snacks.

By the time his two room mates arrived, Tony had already given the place a quick clean and stocked the mini fridge with drinks. The snacks were tucked in a small basket on the counter near the small microwave though he'd already made plans to re-arrange the kitchen to add a small cooker and coffee maker for in dorm meals. There was no way Tony was going to rely only on cafeteria grub or fast food delivery, especially during his late night study sessions. He'd already clocked the small farmer's market's opening hours and would stop there for some fruits and more after his usual morning run.

His first roomie was Gratham, or 'Gray' as he preffered to be called. He was a local, per say, born in las Vegas and practically raised on the strip by his showgirl mom. He was laid back and told the funniest stories, reducing Tony to stitches as he helped the guy schlep his boxes and bags into the room.

The last arrival, a Maori man named Noble, came with an entourage of at least a dozen family members who descended on the place like a tidal wave. Tony could only pull Gray into a corner and watch with fascination while mom, dad, brother, sister, aunties, uncles and a spare cousin or two inspected, analyzed, judged and quarreled over every inch of the place.

He was soon pulled into a discussion on the small kitchenette as he had plans for it and spent the next hour sharing recipes and being cooed and petted by the aunties while Noble shared helpless looks with a shell shocked Gray. He had all but promised to write to the family back home and call once a month to catch them up on what was happening to him and Noble both.

The guy in question sputtered as he went red. "I can make the calls, you know."

That had just gotten him looks of pity, even from his smiling giant of a father and all three men were eventually left slumped on the old couch in the blissful silence of an empty dorm.

"Yeah…" Noble sighed as he accepted a cold drink from Tony, "That was my family. They all made the trip out. I'm kind of the first to go to college here after all."

"Sweet…" Gray sipped from his own drink. "I'm an only child of an only child and a dead beat dad. It's always just been me and my mom."

Tony hummed "… and I like to expand my found family so be prepared to have me on first name bases with your moms and talking sports with your dad and cousins soon enough."

He laughed at the horrified look both guys gave him and decided to be merciful. "I'm also Italian and will stuff your faces with hand rolled pasta in freshly made tomato and meat sauce so it's a trade off."

Gray just grinned and raised his bottle. "Pizane!"

"Alla nostra!" Tony cackled and raised his own "To us!"

Noble just shook his head in equal parts exasperation and humour at the two crazy guys next to him and held up his bottle to join them. "To us!"

Tony grew out his hair, having kept it high and tight since he was eight, and happily wore his readers to classes and the library where he spent most of his time. He'd reported to the Wolf Pack leadership in both basketball and football and his first few practices put him through his paces. He'd never been into sports for more than fun and personal training and he was happy to put more focus on team dynamics and play. His double major courses were another case of careful time management but he managed to pack as much fun college experiences into his schedule as he did his studies.

In the spring of the next year, he'd pledged Delta Sigma Phi with both Gray and Noble and dived into rush with his usual determination. There he made fast friends with the four other boys who'd survived long enough to pledge and together, they all became known as the Heavenly Seven though in Tony's head, he called other boys his Dastardly Six.

There was Stevie B, the Sinatra to their little rat pack, Pre med from Vermont. Samuel was from San Diego, future architect and wicked card player. Cody was their youngest, a sweet, naïve farm boy from Wyoming on a full ride for swimming. Gratham was into Linguistics, Noble was their computer genius and grey hacker while Seth rounded out the group as their future lawyer and tennis player from Arizona.

They did long weekends in Las Vegas, Gray showing them all the places that the tourists didn't know and introducing them to some of the coolest and weirdest people Tony had ever met. They hit up the casinos sporadically because Sammy was a card shark and counter and they didn't want to get kicked out or banned for winning too much too fast.

Noble seemed to have almost unnatural luck and more than enough weekends ended up with them passed out drunk in a comped penthouse suite, the solicitous manager asking him when next he would be visiting again. They always hustled Noble out before he could get pulled back to the tables and walked with him, hungover and feeling guilty as he called his mother and promised to send his ill gotten gains back home.

A bemused Tony would then take over the call as the others went to source a nice greasy breakfast so that he could reassure Ma that it was just normal hangover behaviour and they still knew that Ma and Pa Noble never had a problem with a little gambling. She would then sigh and mumble that she would stuff the money into a cookie tin for when Noble came back home and hang up without a goodbye.

They did spring break at Lake Tahoe, camping trips in the desert and nature hikes up the mountains. They explored Reno and its art scene, did pub crawls and attended festivals. They attended each others sporting events when they could and hosted killer events at the frat house.

He learned how to fly a plane so that he could quickly hop over to Coronado whenever Steve was back on land and invested in an eight seater, a Pilatus PC-12 NGX (Turboprop) after doing a ton of research and consulting with both Lawry and his investment portfolio adviser. It had been a cool five million with another million kept aside for hanger fees, insurance and fuel but it was worth it for Tony to spend more time with his family. Steve had just taken a long suffering look at the plane then at Tony, sighed, thrown his duffle at the younger man and boarded.

The plane had his biggest personal purchase from his trust since he'd bought the dark red 1969 Ford Mustang small block v8 at a Las Vegas police impound auction. Gray had called it his chick magnet and he hadn't been wrong. The amount of interest, both male and female brought, in part, by the car was constant and satisfying and resulted in his nick name of 'Sex Machine' within the frat. With no Senior hounding his every step and no military school reputation to uphold, Tony was finally free to be who he wanted and to do whatever and whoever he wanted.

The first time he took the Dastardly Six on the plane for a long weekend in Los Angeles, they'd spent most of the flight in confused and awed silence until Stevie B managed to speak.

"Tino… you're like crazy rich, aren't you?"

Tony chuckled as he checked his instruments. "Crazy rich?… not me personally but the family on my mother's side are pretty well off."

"The ones from England?" Gray squawked and leaned forward, "So when you joked about spending your summers in a castle… you weren't pulling our legs?"

"Nope" Tony popped the 'p' with a grin.

"So all those part time jobs you have had were really just for the experience and to practice your people watching?"

"Pretty much."

Gray let out a heavy breath and slumped back into his chair like a deflated balloon, running a hand through his messy hair. "Christ on a fucking cross."

Thankfully, the guys got over it quickly enough, though they had a million questions to ask over the weekend, and by the time they got back to campus; things had settled back down to normal. Except the jibes for Tony to buy a few more rounds once in a while, they treated him just as they'd had before. They also didn't spread the news around as they respected Tony's business as his own and trusted him with their personal details as well.

Tony's famous part time job project really was an mixed experiment in people watching, profiling, psychology and adapting to new and strange environments. His ability to blend into any situation had always been a natural ability for Tony, a skill he'd nurtured from a young age to survive house Dinozzo. He'd become the little sailor boy for his fragile mother, the little 'poo boy' for his fathers civil war re-enactment buddies; the obedient and charming business man's son for Senior's trip to Hawai'i .

He'd been the model student at Remington, the perfect yet unique cadet at RIMA; only letting his true self bleed through with those who came to know him and had gained his trust through their love and loyalty. The dastardly six were lucky, Tony making the decision to be his truest in public at college. 

He'd worked as a short order cook, hotel bellboy, casino dealer, golf caddy, pool cleaner and even done a few sessions as a piano player in a bar for tips; keeping detailed notes on his observations, experiences and how he'd grown as both a student and a sentinel over time. If it panned out the way he was hoping, he would put it all together for a paper on the relationships between sentinels and law enforcement and how it related to undercover work.

His promotion to captain of the football team had been a surprise even though he'd been naturally asserting leadership over the team, a habit from his time at RIMA. After celebrating way too hard with his friends and waking up feeling like death, he'd pulled up his big boy pants and had taken the team in hand. 

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Junior year, Baltimore and Tony was heading back to the hotel from the restaurant where they'd been having the 'we may have lost this particular away game but it was still enough to send us to the next round' dinner celebration. Tony was happy enough that they'd gotten through but still worried over the small details that had kept them always one step behind their opponents. It had been driving their coaches crazy for the longest while and sadly, Tony had also caught the anxiety bug when it came to actually grasping the golden ring.

He was going over plays and training methods he wanted to try when a soft cry caught his attention. He looked up and around, his body automatically alert and he stretched his hearing  outwards. The evening was quiet, and even though the sun had just set, the street was already deserted.  Another soft cry had him jogging eastwards into a commercial area rebuilt into low cost apartments.

His nose caught a whiff of smoke and he took off running, yelling "Help! Fire!" as the tell tale grey smoke came into view. Through the cracks in the shuttered windows he could see the bright orange lick of flames. Tony yelled "Help! Fire" once more to the peeking neighbours as he rammed the thin wooden door with his shoulder, grunting as he heard it crack. He backed up a few steps and took another run, this time breaking it off the hinges and taking them both to the ground.

Smoke immediately billowed out of the doorway, the fire surging with the influx of oxygen. Tony coughed, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve as he looked around for the source of the cry. Suddenly there was a commanding voice from behind him and he spun his head around to see a man silhouetted in the smoke.

"There's a kid in the closet… fifteen feet to your ten o'clock. Get him up and out unto the street. The paramedics are on their way."

"Sir, yes Sir." Tony responded by habit and rushed off to obey, finding a small boy huddled in the corner of a cheap clap board closet. He grabbed him up and, crouching low to avoid most of the smoke, covered the boy's nose and mouth with his hoodie sleeve and hustled them both out of there.

Out on the street, he'd made it as far as across the road before collapsing unto the pavement, child still in his arms. The kid looked up at him, his eyes red from crying and smoke irritation and coughed,

"My…si….cough cough… my sister… she'd still in there!"

Ton felt his heart drop, looking away from the terrified boy back to the building which was almost fully a blaze. What could he say? What should he say? Sorry kid, if the smoke didn't kill her by now, the fire surely would, either burning her lungs like paper or roasting her to death in thousand degree heat. He clenched his teeth hard on the words before they could babble out nervously and just held the kid tighter as he stared towards the glowing orange doorway.

Surely the other sentinel was still inside. Tony had been long accustomed to obeying commands but this had been submission to a higher authority. Whoever he'd been, the man was a sentinel. Definitely high level and well trained. Feeling the boy starting to tremble, Tony shrugged off his UNR hoodie and put it on the boy, wondering how to give him comfort in a situation like this.

"Hey, kid. What's your name?"

Wide brown eyes blinked up at him "Cough… Jason."

"Cool name, like Jason Voorhees… and what's your sister's name?"

"Kimberly."

"Like Kimberly Ann Hart - the Pink Ranger, even more cool… ."

Jason gave a small smile and Tony considered it a win as the kid no longer looked like he wanted to burst into tears.

"Don't worry ok…" He said softly as they both went back to looking at the door. "She's strong and will make it out of there. The Sentinel who went in there for her is way high level and will find her in tow shakes of a lamb's tail and have her back with you in no time."

'Why a lamb's tail? Are they fast?"

"You know, kid… " Tony could only shrug, " ah…. I really dunno."

Just as the sirens heralded in the distance, getting closer every second, starting to cover the low murmur of the crowd gathering; Tony's attention was drawn to the glowing door, his heart beginning to race as his hearing stretched out and latched unto something at the edge of his reach. He felt Jason stiffen in his arms.

Then, like the devil himself ascending out of hell, a tall silhouette appeared, backlit by the fire and shrouded with smoke. The crowd seemed to gasp all in unison and the figure burst out from obscurity unto the cool night air. Tony could only stare stupidly as the still smoking and slightly singed figure stumbled over to them to sit on the pavement as well. In his arms was a blanket wrapped bundle from which a small, wild haired, soot blackened face popped out. Jason, having most likely long been at the end of his rope, burst into wails and reached for his sister just as the first responders swerved around the corner.

Some time later, Tony sat in the door of the ambulance, watching as fire crews fought the blaze, Jason tucked into one side as Kimberly dozed against his other. They were all wrapped up in the silver trauma blankets, looking like burritos as they sat huddled together. The sentinel from earlier, soot covered and bandaged, stood with the fire chief and several police officers; giving commands with the full expectation of being obeyed.

"Wow." Tony breathed, utterly impressed. "I wanna be that guy when I grow up."

Jason hummed in agreement while Kimberly gave a scratchy little giggle. Tony immediately opened the small water bottle and offered it to her to drink. She downed half of it with a cute little 'aah' and handed the bottle back to him with a dainty thank you.

"His name is Mike. Mike Stoker." she said primly. "He's a Fire Engineer for the 106th."

Jason looked over to his sister. "How do you know that?"

"He told me as he was breaking down the bathroom door to rescue me. He said that it was only polite that we were formally introduced."

"oh. ok." Jason seemed to be turning the information over in his head for awhile before finally turning to where the man was still giving orders to firemen, police, paramedics and crowd alike.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Jazz."

"I wanna be like Mike."

"Me too, kid, me too."

Chapter Text

Sometimes life breaks you , not to end you—

but to clear the road you were never meant to stay on.

Rise, not to go back, but to go beyond

----------------

Tony woke to white hospital walls and the steady beeping of a heart monitor, swallowing heavily, he reached over for a cup of water and took measured sips. His leg, heavy with a full cast, hung suspended a few inches above the bed, the white plaster already colourful with graffiti left my his frat mates, team mates and various visitors.

He was a bit woozy from the pain killers they'd given him, his allergic reaction to the standard prescription had been an unpleasant surprise to both the paramedics and ER doctors during intake. Since he'd never been injured like that before, even he hadn't expected his own body's adverse reaction. It had taken some quick actions by the brilliant doctors to stop Tony's body from rebelling and going into shock and that had trumped the broken leg in terms of medical emergency.

Already, his frat brothers had shared hilarious stories about Tony's reactions to some of the later alternatives and Tony had just laughed along, grateful that he hadn't said anything truly embarrassing during his loopy periods. Thankfully,  all of his brothers had sworn secrecy over some of the more personal stuff he'd let slip and worked out a rotation that kept one of time by his side at all times so that he wouldn't be left alone in such a condition.

He'd been deeply touched by their efforts, there dedication and their protection of his privacy and autonomy. The current cocktail had a side effect of making him a bit nauseous but he would take that over compromised any day.

Huxley had arrived at his hospital room an hour after he'd been admitted and had arranged a private room and a specialist to see to Tony's leg before the sun had even set. Tony had been too out of it for a phone call but by the time Lawry had flown in, he'd been on a much more even keel. Daily visits from his cousin and phone calls from both Mags and Mary Ann, kept his spirits up. Steve was mid top secret SEAL mission so they just left a message with his base for when he eventually returned.

The constant string of visitors and well wishers filled his room with gifts and flowers, most he then sent on to the various nurses stations and kids' ward. Keeping up conversations kept him from being too bored, even though it left him exhausted at times. He was still grateful for the break from the deafening silence that filled his mind in those brief quiet moments.

They'd almost made it. Almost grasped the golden ring that was the championship. He'd dedicated blood, sweat and tears into pulling the football team up from the floundering mid range filler on the score boards to a well oiled machine that had been clawing its way steadily up the ranks in both skill and reputation. And they'd almost made it too… the last minutes of the last game, a few points from victory. He hadn't seen the tackle coming, hadn't noticed the third player stumbling into the wrong place wrong time, hadn't heard anything but a loud crack and the roaring in his ears.

He knew that shit happened, especially on the football field. He didn't even mind that his injury would put a stop to his professional sport playing forever. It had never been his goal anyway and the doctors had already made good noises about his recovery so he wasn't too worried.

No, what rubbed him raw was how close they'd been. How the team had fallen apart completely after his injury and let the other team score time after time in the last of the overtime. It was Tony's first big loss since his mother's passing and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He'd put so much work into it, so much effort, so much time and dedication for it to fall apart like a house of cards at the first strong breeze. It was a bitter pill to swallow, a hard defeat to accept. Even though Captain Jean Luc Picard had once said that it was still possible to fail even after doing one's best, it was still difficult for Tony to just accept and understand.

It just wasn't fair. He wanted to cry to the heavens. The worst was the comfort the rest of the team had tried to give him, apologizing for fumbling the game at the end and losing it all. Tony had tried his best to reassure them, all the while choking on his own acrid guilt for letting them down and leaving them holding the bag.

He'd thought about trying to talk to Lawry about it but, in truth, the person he wanted to talk to most was Steve. Too bad the SEAL was off on some black ops shenanigans and couldn't receive a call, a telegram or even a smoke signal. He missed the man acutely in that moment, all the messy feelings tumbling in his chest and no where he felt safe enough to vent them too. He would have wait until he could work it all out with this therapist and he wasn't looking forward to that one bit.

Relief came in the form of a phone call from Mike Stoker who'd brought news of Jason and Kimberly. He'd taken them in as fosters with his bonded guide and husband, Captain Henry "Hank" Stanley. The kids' parents had signed away their parental rights after Kimberly's birth, not wanting the burden of two latent children. Their aunt had taken custody after but between her three jobs to keep a roof over their heads and own mental health struggles, the kids had been left by themselves much too often.

The fire had started from cheap electrical patchwork and the fire had spread much to fast for the children to even react. Thankfully, Tony had come along at the perfect time and his cries had alerted Mike who'd been in a couple of streets away. Other than a couple of minor burns and some smoke inhalation, the kids were happy and healthy, recovering well and attending councelling and school.

Tony was elated to hear such good news and, before he even knew it, he was confiding everything about the game, his injury and the tumult of deep seated emotions that had been brought to light in the wake of it all. Mike was patient, listening as Tony babbled and sniffled over the line.

He let Tony wind down, the younger man slumping against the bed, exhausted from the unexpected emotional outpouring, before comforting him in the calm, commanding tone of a high level sentinel looking after their tribe. It gave Tony a deep sense of comfort that both warmed his chest and made his breathing easier and though he knew that he still had to do the work with a therapist; the burning anxiety no longer crawled up his throat.

He promised to call and write, adding four more people to his ever growing network of those he cared about and who also cared about him. Such a long way from the lonely little boy he been. That buoyancy carried him into his recovery and the mandated physical therapy for his leg and he went into it with the same dedication as he did with anything else.

He'd worked with his student councilor and the school for keep him on track to graduation with the support of his frat brothers, and though he'd stepped down as team captain; he still gave his support to his replacement with revised training methods, plays and cheerleading from the sidelines at every game he could make it to.

Lawry had gone back to England but kept in touch with both Tony and with Stevie B about Tony's progress. All of the Dastardly Six had fallen in love with Lawry and Mags both, that later who they'd met in a video call Huxley had set up on Lawry's behest. The old lady had charmed all the boys handily and made them all promise to come visit the castle after graduation so that she could appreciate all the fine young eye candy in person. Tony acutely understood Lawry's exasperated eye roll even as he laughed along with the others. Mags was a truly unique and exceptional lady who deserved all the admiration.

He was moved from the hospital to a local recovery centre, his physical therapist an older, spry Japanese woman named Megumi 'Keiko' Hamasaki, a low level sentinel with a head of wild white hair and ever upbeat smile. Her sense of touch was off the charts even though the rest of them were all but null, her expertise at touch healing, physical therapy, massage and pain treatment were well known in the entire state and the SAGC.

She was skilled, professional and commanding when Tony bucked against her orders but was quick with a joke or witty quip that broke his hackles down and put him in a good mood once more.

"Fall down seven times, stand up eight." she would say in that sharp accented voice.

"If I didn't know better … " Tony panted as he finished his set, sweat soaking his clothes to his trembling body "… I would have thought you were a guide with the whammy you keep putting on me."

Keiko just laughed that easy, husky laugh of hers, her face wrinkling as she grinned. "My great uncle was a Shingon Monk from Mount Kōya in Osaka. I grew up in Kongōbu-ji Temple and spent first twenty seven years of my life training with him in esoteric Buddhism."

Of course, Tony was hooked after that; his curiosity latching unto a new obsession that Keiko was surprisingly willing to indulge. Their sessions were soon filled with Q&A discussions; Tony soaking up knowledge like a sponge as she ran him through his paces. Those then turned into joined mediations and intense discussions,  after hours and in Japanese, of the mantras, rituals, visualizations and mudras she'd grown up learning.

He found himself getting closer to the threshold of the psionic plane through meditation than he'd ever felt before, control his sensory skills growing more fluid; easier to manipulate and wield. Her teachings gave him a deeper understanding of his sentinel's relation to the natural world around him and how he perceived and interacted with it.

She told him about her life, her childhood in Japan, the abandonment by her father before she was born, the shame her mother felt raising her alone; being left at the temple with her only other living relative and the resentment she'd had to work through for years at her mother's running away to be remarried and have four more kids who she kept and raised while never coming back for her first daughter. He, in turn, shared about his own parents, his loss, his rocky relationship with Senior and the rebuilding and reclaiming of his life and found family, bit by bit.

As their professional relationship grew into friendship, she came to affectionately call him 'Genki' and he cheekily called her 'Bāchan' in return as they lightly sparred in the dojo she owned and ran on the outskirts of Reno. Every weekend when he wasn't studying to catch up on his school work, they would meditate and chant mantras as she mentored him in the ways of Shingon or the True Word School, carefully teaching him the mudras and rituals passed unto to her by her ancestors.

He would draw mandalas on his notes and papers, the repetition of patterns and movement relaxing him and making him focus all at once. He would do bigger ones in sand in the garden at the dojo, the action of it sending him into a peaceful state that was almost trance-like and left him feeling more settled than he'd ever felt before.

She officially became his Sensei over tea ceremony as in his senior year, bowing deeply in respect to the woman who'd breezed into his life when he'd been foolishly emotionally self- isolating and like Sifu, had yanked him right out of his slump and into a whole new world of experience. And like Sifu, he would forever be grateful to her for her friendship and care.

Graduation rolled around and everyone came. The McGarretts, Keiko, Sikes, Gunner, Lawrence and even Mags, whose health had improved enough for the trip. Even Commandant Walker attended, clapping and smiling proudly among the family seats at Tony crossed the stage in his gown. Sifu sent a post card, this time with writing that had Tony deeply touched and crying happy tears as he read it for the nth time before slipping it into his favourite book for safe keeping.

He spent the next week celebrating, saying good bye to his frat brothers and showing Steve and Mary Ann around Reno. Mags held court in her hotel penthouse, smiling and charming the socks off of all of people she'd heard so much about yet never met. Tony watched on, endlessly amused as she cooed over both John and Steve, making both men blush identically. He was also thrilled to see his family and his frat brothers get along like a house on fire, sharing stories and wild jokes that had everyone cracking up.

Promising to keep in touch and visit each other often, he finally said goodbye to his school friends and closed off another chapter of his life. Saying farewell to Mags and Lawry, Tony vowed to head their way after some time spent in Hawaii. Steve had saved up his paid leave and wanted to do nothing for the next three weeks but sleep and surf and Tony was all too glad to join him for it. He'd missed his brother something awful.

Before they could leave for the Big Island, he got a call from an upset Lawry. "It's mother… she's collapsed… " the man's voice was shaky. "… you should come as soon as you can."

Tony didn't even know how he got on a plane but he soon found himself on a private flight arranged by Huxley, Steve close to his side. He blinked up at the concerned looking man, not knowing what to say.

"Thank you…" he finally settled on, "… for coming with me."

Steve's response was simple. "That's what brothers do."

Tony just let out a shaky breath and let his head fall unto Steve's shoulder and drifted once more. They made it to Colterstone Keep and headed right up to Mags' chambers without delay, Steve at his side and a solemn and pale Lawrence bringing up the rear. Siobhan stood at the foot of the bed, too drawn and pale; her hands clasped tightly on a crumpled white handkerchief.

Maggie gave him a wane smile as he knelt at her bedside, her frail hand squeezing his gently as his eyes filled with tears. She looked smaller, wilted and thin within the finery of her favourite fur. So different from just a few days before. She gave him a soft tug and rubbed a thumb across his hand.

"Now don't get all emotional on me, moppet." she scolded him gently, bring up a thin hand to bop him on the nose "… I've lived a long and fulfilling life. I've had lots of lovers and a wonderful husband. I've had my wonderful Lawry who has made me so proud. And best of all, I've brought my Claire back home with me and a got the chance to welcome you home. As far as I'm concerned, I've gotten everything I've ever wanted. I am one lucky Lady."

They spend the next few days in vigil, doing their best to raise her spirits as she grew weaker and less animated. He didn't do more than sit to the side and observe as Clive came to visit, his wife and children coming along to pay their respects. Thankfully, the man kept his opinions on Tony to himself and they left soon after with Lawry escorting them out.

He cried, heart broken as she took her last breath, clinging to Steve as Lawry kissed his mother's hand and Siobhan wept in the corner. Mags had come into his life like a force of nature and had given him back his mother in a way he'd never thought he would ever have again. She'd given him that maternal love that he'd lost way too soon and filled that cold hollow in his chest that his mother's death had created.

She and Lawry had restored his family history and his roots, giving him a home he could always come back to and anchoring him from life adrift he'd been living as a child. Losing her felt like losing his mother all over again and even though he was older and had more tools for dealing with that loss, the grief of her death still left him breathless and his heart aching.

The funeral was solemn and well attended, Mags being interned next to her beloved Claire in the family graveyard. Cremated with her ashes scattered next to Claire's in the beautiful central flower garden. Tony remained at Lawry's side through it all, even as Steve remained at his.

The after party at the mansion was as wild and joyful as Mags was in real life. Old friends from her crazy past showed up with booze and laughter and the night was lit with fond memories, amazing stories and celebratory toasts. Tony flitted from group to group, absorbing fantastical tales of her entertaining young life, her scandalous affairs, her devotion to her husband and her philanthropy in later years.

It was bittersweet time for him so he kept himself busy by helping Lawrence with the estate and taking Steve around, more than once taking him up to the tower ruins where they would talk for hours. Too soon Steve's leave was over and though Tony regretted keeping the man from his family at such short notice, he was deeply grateful that he'd chosen to stick by Tony's side.

They hugged for a long time before Steve got into the car with Huxley, the man escorting his bother all the way back to the US; and watched until the car vanished over the rolling green hills before wandering back into the now empty feeling mansion.

They left Siobhan in charge of the Keep, Lawrence taking Tony to live at the London apartment where they made themselves busy with the Estate. Eddie came around and took Tony in hand, dragging him back to MI6 and throwing into the deep end of the analyst pool. It worked as Tony dove right into the thick of it, taking to Intelligence and Cyber security like a duck to water and successfully distracting him from the grief threatening to swamp him.

He spent the next few months with MI6, liaising with Interpol and other agencies through his pattern recognition and new and intriguing insight into cold, declassified cases. He was there when Lawrence met the lovely and effervescent Lady Cecily Lenore Blackwood, of the Wycliff Blackwoods and fell head over heels at first sight. He smirked behind his hands as his cousin fumbled adorably around Cecily to her growing fondness and amusement. It was the stuff of movie rom-com fluff and Tony couldn't get enough.

Seeing them so happy together, Tony decided that it was time to head back to the US, reassured that Lady Blackwood, hopefully Blackwood Paddintgon-Leftige in the future, had Lawrence well in hand. He bade them good bye after one last visit to the Keep, spending that last afternoon visiting the tower ruins and the graveyard garden, bidding a quiet but fond farewell to the two best women in his life.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do" he whispered to Lawry as he hugged him, giggling as the man went red and glanced back at a gently smiling Cecily.

"Silly sod.." the man grumbled under his breath, his eyes happy as waved Tony into the car, curling an arm around his girlfriend when she came closer. The couple kept waving until Tony lost sight of them, his heart light for the first time since their shared loss. He was finally ready to go out and live the life that both his mother and Mags wanted for him.

He went back to stay at the dojo until he could wrap up his life in Reno. His car and stuff from the frat house arranged by Gray and Noble and taken to Kieko's while he was in England. Huxley squared away the plane into a private hangar somewhere until Tony had need for it or decided to sell it.

The private backyard residence and garden was serene and gave Tony an extreme sense of peace as he meditated in the quiet halls and walked along the cheery blossom strewn paths.  Keiko let him talk out his grief, listening attentively as he spoke out the feelings of loss doubled over and providing the quiet feminine, almost guide like serenity his sentinel needed.

She advanced his training and guided him through the more intricate rituals and meditations to control the flow of natural energies through his body. It was an experience that Tony would never forget and after a few months, the relationship with his sentinel spirit felt stronger and closer than ever.

She gifted him a set of ceremonial blades at the end of his training, a pair of authentic Japanese tanto short swords; wickedly shard and hilted in block and gold. He already had a practice pair used for sparring, the simple hilt and sheath more suitable for the kind of quick, no nonsense Aikido he usually practiced and had blended into his Sanda over the years.

He went to Hawaii for his usual holiday visit, happy to see John, Mary Ann and a visiting Aunty Debs then took a flight over to Coronado to spend the New Year's with Steve; hanging around with his team as they prepped for an upcoming mission.

He checked in on Jason and Kemberly and spent a week at the Stoker/Stanley residence, exploring the city with the newly official happy family and thinking about his future. Both Mike and Hank gave great advice and he came away feeling content and enlightened.

He stopped off at Sikes' booming company and surprised the excitable man, letting himself be dragged back to Ma's house and stuffed with her delicious cooking. They both paid Gunner a visit at the Pentagon in Washington DC, the blond taking up post at the RAND offices there. Giving them the same flat look as he's always done at their tomfoolery, he let them take each of his arms and frog march him to lunch.

They caught up over the subsequent long weekend, visiting the national mall to gawk like tourists and letting Gunner show them his favourite places. Tony told them both about Mags' passing and how dealing with and healing from her loss had been a long road and took comfort in the unwavering support they offered in return.

As they sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, watching the sun set over the reflecting pool, Tony felt truly at peace, ready to take on whatever the future held and excited to embark on the next chapter of his life.

Chapter Text

It was just Tony's luck that as soon as he'd been accepted into the Los Angeles Police Academy for his six month training, Steve and his entire team get deployed to a ship… for six fucking months. Tony had bitterly cursed the irony and then immediately hopped on his plane to Coronado, carving out a brief weekend to spend time with his brother, mostly helping to wrap up the loose ends of Steve's life before he left to run his black ops shenanigans on the aircraft carrier.

"Don't die out there, Smooth Dog." he'd murmured into Steve's shoulder as they hugged good bye.

"Same to you, Sex Machine."

"I should have never let you meet the dastardly six." Tony groaned as they let go, "I said nothing good would come of it."

Steve just laughed in his face. Rude. "No… you said nothing good would come of introducing them to Mags as she had all the embarrassing baby stories."

"Shit… yeah." Tony flushed and hung his head. "… and she just had to tell the little sailor boy one didn't she? Sammy still sings the song every time I call." 

The pain of her loss was still an ever present piercing ache behind his ribs but it was tempered by the happier memories they'd shared. He could laugh about certain things without feeling guilty right after. He could think of her smile and her hand running through his hair without crying. He could reminisce with Lawry and listen to bittersweet stories of their lives before Tony had returned to them.

Elysian Park Academy looked like a movie set, with its guard towers, rock garden and castle on a hill vibe. It was the oldest and best Police Academy in the country and he was looking forward to training there. He had Huxley arrange to have his car driven from Reno and bought a small bungalo in the Hills near enough to the school that he could avoid most of the infamous LA traffic.

The place was hideously expensive but real estate was always a good investment so he was ok with paying more for less stress. It was comfortable, secure enough in its privacy with a modern kitchen and heated jacuzzi pool. It was also small enough to keep clean himself though Huxley did arrange for a gardener/pool boy.

The trainers at the academy were impressed with his close combat and firearms training; commending his answers in class about the state penal code and community policing. His people watching habit helped him with his cultural diversity and ethics training and his time at MI6 had streamlined his report writing. He enjoyed defensive driving and training in all the cool emergency response vehicles, taking weekends for helicopter and motorcycle lessons. 

He tried not to let himself slip back into RIMA cadet Tony, keeping himself looser with his smiles and posture among his collogues. He made easy friends among the other trainees and joined them for bar crawls and pick up games. They were a mixed bag of enhanced and mundane, a mostly friendly bunch with a few thorns among the roses but it was nothing he couldn't handle with his usual charm and charisma.

His ventures into Hollywood brought back his long time love of movies, taking him to old cinemas like the Egyptian Theatre with their classics, foreign cinema and film history events; and the UCLA Film and Television Archive with its archive of rare archival prints and restorations of forgotten golden age or classic silent films. His 'at home' movie collection grew and spent many a night studying as movies played softly in the background.

He took studio tours and often rivalled the tour guides in his knowledge of movie trivia; even managing to land a couple of bit parts in movies and shows on his movie star good looks and megawatt smile. He turned down any bigger offers. He liked it when it was all for fun but the idea of living a life of false faces  seemed like a dark path to walk down, especially for him.

His stints on the silvers screen did land him the nickname "Hollywood" within the academy along with the requisite teasing which he took in stride; easily slipping more snappy movie quotes and facts into every day conversation. He had a few lovers, never among his cohorts though, instead going for young beautiful wannabe starlets and hot yoga instructors who fell for his fit body, generous nature and law enforcement mystery.

He had a couple of male lovers as well though he kept those secret, knowing all too well how being gay was still taboo amongst the ranks of the police force; even with the wider acceptance that came with SAG  pairs. Only bonded same sex pairs barely escaped the stigma so low levels like Tony, who would likely never bond, had no protection whatsoever - either from the Force, the Government, the Courts or the SAGC. Still, he was accustomed to building a persona that suited him best to whatever situation he found himself in and a life in law enforcement, unfortunately, came with certain caveats he'd long researched and accepted.

Most of his correspondence moved to email format but a few stayed in letter form as Jason and Kimberly loved getting and sending letters in hand. Sifu didn't own a computer and John loved and saved the doodles and sketches Tony included in his mail. He got a comprehensive phone plan as both Mike and Mary loved phone calls which were hell on his minutes but it was worth the cost to him to keep in touch with his people.

Six months later and he'd graduated at the top of his class.. He was officially a Police Officer I — fully sworn and authorized to enforce the law, make arrests and carry a firearm. With his shiny new badge and carefully pressed looking uniform, he reported to LAPD Olympic Division and sent to walk the beat in Korea Town. It was a great neighbourhood, diverse and always interesting in its people and its criminals. 

He was partnered with a veteran officer named Marks, a older mundane who was pretty easy going and willing to show Tony the ropes as he waited out for his retirement. He made friends with the business owners, community leaders, corner hustlers and dancing grandmas. He tried new foods and experiences adventurously, happy to be laughed at and teased for his 'white boy' reactions and heavily accented language skills.

Soon enough he was promoted to ride along for another veteran, Godwin, an unbonded sentinel, level five at least, who was s bit more reserved but still full of expert knowledge and happy enough to share advice. They were a good team, quick to respond and adept getting to the bottom of things with Godwin's high level senses and Tony's intuitive thinking. Medals and commendations collected in a special wooden box at his apartment but photos, letters, cards and kids drawings from the community take pride of place on his fridge.

The problem began when the new captain took over. Planted directly from the governor's office to streamline the Division, the first thing the man had done was pull every employee file from the SAGC, active or not, which was borderline illegal but with the backing of the Governor's office, what Hoskins wanted, Hoskins got.

It really went downhill when he began favouring the sentinels and started granting promotions based on how high one scored with the SAGC assessments. Hoskins actively disdained anyone below a three and encouraged the use of such slurs as "Feebo" and "NullDull". Police Command could do nothing against the increasing complaints files and the governor's office ignored any pushback against the blunt knife readily doing their dirty work.

The environment slowly turned toxic, the conduct and respect between officers deteriorating as the relationship with the community suffered. Tony grew extremely frustrated that any cases he'd solved and commendations he'd earned were quietly shunted to Godwin's sole credit with Tony dismissed as a mere assist, his dedication and duty a mere fluke. He talked frequently to both John and Mike about the situation, feeling both angry and guilty at wanting to just chuck it all and leave. It felt like both proving Hoskins right and running away like a coward if he left. Like he was abandoning the duty he'd taken an oath to uphold and protect.

Both men gave him great counsel, keeping him from losing his shit… even when Hoskins let the entire department's SAG status and levels 'leak' to the entire division. The uproar from that clusterfuck was big enough that even the Governor had to step in and sooth the SAGC who'd been flooded with complaints from their active sentinels and guides within the entire LAPD. Even 'feebos' like Tony were taken into consideration, if only to bulk up the numbers and give themselves more leverage in getting the Governor's office to settle. Apologies were made, hands were shaken, money was paid and press conferences held but in the end Hoskins was still in the big chair, even though he ice he walked on was just a  bit thinner.

Tony found himself in basically the same position, worked like a dog because of his sentinel status yet given neither praise nor reward for doing his best. He also still had to live with the increasing frequency of disrespect and hazing that was steadily growing amongst the mundanes and even a few of the high level enhanced. Reporting on the concerning behaviour went nowhere and talking to IA would have been a death sentence; so after one to many close calls and failed backup incidents, Tony finally admitted defeat and put in for a transfer.

“When you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.” Steve had told him over a staticky phone call. “Don’t cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it.”

He'd lasted two years of staying the course and giving his best but the unending grind of endless work, professional disrespect and politics had worn on him both mentally and emotionally. There was no future for him there, only a vast hell scape where he was besieged on all sides. It felt like running away with his tail between his legs but both John and Mikey talked him down from that mindset. He wasn't being a coward, he wasn't running away from his troubles.

"Letting go is hard only when you forget what it's costing you to hold on. Know when to walk away." Mike's husband Hank had been the one to finally make Tony accept what had to be done, explaining about the  “sunk cost fallacy”, where people continue investing in something just because they’ve already invested a lot, even if it's no longer worth it. “Quitting is not failure. Staying the wrong course out of pride is.”

The mountain of tasks ahead of him, the cost of moving his life once more, seemed daunting but Tony was reminded that he had help. He had people to support him and have his back. Huxley swept in once more, making arrangements for Tony's small house and car while Tony slogged through the mess of transferring safely away from Hoskins and the clusterfuck he'd turned the division into.

He could hear Sifu's voice in his head. he could even smell the tea. “Even a dead tree must be chopped down when it casts too much shadow.”

Thankfully, he'd made enough friends in the Chief of Police's office and Records Departments to get his entire unedited file properly archived with the federal database and ready to transfer to his new precinct. Hoskins' own receptionist, Lindsay, slipped the paperwork passed her arrogant yet oblivious boss and got everything signed and sealed, ever grateful for Tony's help in getting her younger brother out of trouble with some local gangs. By the time anyone took notice of his transfer, he was already across the country and settling into an apartment in Philly.

Philly was different from LA in many ways. No more sunny days, beaches and easy coastal drives. Instead he had to build up his closet of seasonal wear to match the changing weather and store his classic car in favour of a motorcycle to avoid the traffic congestion and fuel prices. Huxley procured a small, multi story red brick apartment building and fixed up the top floor for Tony.

There were four apartments below, managed by an agency, the penthouse having a private entrance and climate controlled garage so Tony never had to meet his neighbours if he didn't want to. He parked his new Kawasaki Z650RS next to his Ford Mustang, meal prepped from the stocked fridge and pantry and organized his movie collection just how he liked it.

Once he was done with his POST (Peace Officer Standards and Training) Certificate, his pretty face, charisma and smart mouth landed him in Vice and his undercover skills got him pulled into a simple undercover op that then unexpectedly grew into a whale of an undercover op.

He'd built his Antimo DiNapoli persona to pull in a confidential informant for a local sex ring and had even rented out a small bolt hole apartment to give the identity some foundation. A carefully curated wardrobe, slicked hairstyle, gold pinkie ring and vintage Lincoln Continental rounded out DiNapoli as a wannabe made man. It wasn't pink like the one in Goodfellas but a nice wine colour that Tony preffered. He worked himself into the criminal circle easily, gathering evidence to take down the small outfit that was targeting young girls in clubs for sex work and trafficking. He was just wrapping up the last few details of the case before the big bust when another fell into his lap, literally.

He'd been invited to a popular nightclub by his C.I. An opportunity to lay eyes on the mysterious foreign contact who came to town for a meet and greet once in a blue moon. The place was loud and full of colour, bass pumping through his body as he dialed his sentinel hearing down to mundane level. He didn't want to wake up with a migraine the next morning. He perched in a corner, nursing a gin and tonic as he watched his C.I. dance with a group of work friends; catching the casual nod that pointed him to one of the VIP booths.

He recognized the underboss of the ring, dark and swarthy man named Calaveras with slicked back hair and a handsome smile marred with smug cruelty. Gold rings glinted on his thin fingers as he gestured with his drink, liquor splashing as his other arm pulled on the pretty girl next to him just hard enough to make her wince. Tony didn't want to guess at the girl's age, pushing down his anger and comforting himself that they were days if not hours away from scooping up all these assholes and throwing them into the pokey.

Across the booth sat an older man, salt and pepper coifed hair, better grooming, better bespoke grey designer suit, better Rolex watch and a better veneer of propriety. This one hid his cruelty well, a pleasant smile and hooded eyes filled with disdain and apathy. This man was the scary one, the one Tony could only glance at because staring too long would definitely draw unwanted attention.

He was a sentinel, a high level. That was a surprise as most Sentinels who chose a life of crime went dormant soon enough, if they weren’t strong to keep themselves online despite abandoning their duty to the greater good. He'd heard about cases like that, those with enough inner drive and determination to form a new core call to duty; to pledge complete fealty to their own tribe above all else, their personal greater good; and retain their active senses.  Those kind of people were extremely dangerous and he was glad that the noise of the house music would drown the whir of the wire he was sporting. He did not want that man's attention.

He made a casual pass, pretending to chat up a small group of ladies having drinks in a nearby booth. He bought a couple rounds and allowed himself to be pulled into some tipsy flirting, close enough to stretch his hearing out, siphoning out the loud music with a trick he learned from Keiko. He caught snippets, nothing particularly useful and soon pulled back before pain grew too much. Trying to think of a way to get closer without blowing his cover, he was abruptly drawn to a commotion right in front of said booth.

Another young woman, dark haired, well dressed and beautiful, was angrily confronting Caleveras and tugging on the young girl's arm, the greaseball sneering and snarling back as he yanked the girl the other way, deeper into the booth. The seconds slowed, stretching along like ages as the absurd tug of war continued; Tony's mind racing as his hearing once again sliced through the noise, ignoring the blossoming head ache as he narrowed into the small tableau. He could hear glasses clinking as the table rocked, the young girl's whimpers as she was man handled between the two, the older girl's demanding the younger one to come away with her.

He could see the underboss gesture impatiently to his six foot nine mountain of a man body guard, his handsome face hideous with anger. Tony could only curse under his breath as he weighed the pros and cons of stepping in, hand slipping into his pocket for his phone. Just when he was about to call for back up, the brunette whipped her hair back; and his heart stopped in his chest.

Shit. He knew that face.

He recognized her all too well from his research for his cover into the important families of the city. DiNapoli wanted to be a made man so he had to know all the Famiglias in the city. She was Bianca Mancuso, the youngest child of the Don 'Big Mike' Mancuso and his beloved only daughter. Tony faintly wondered where her personal guards were as he was already crossing the floor, shoving his panic down ruthlessly. God help him. Back up would never reach fast enough.

If anyhting happened to Bianca tonight, the city was going to run red by dawn.

He stepped in front of her, barely registering her huff and her perfume at his back as he faced the wall of muscle before him. He gave his most dazzling smile as the taller man frowned.

"Hey, let's everyone take a deep breath now..." he grinned, raised one hand in the air, already palming the blade from his belt with the other.  "… before we do something we all regret. We were all having such a good time. Things don't have to get out of hand right over a little misunderstanding right?"

The guard blinked and turned to give the weasel boss a clear view of Bianca peeping over Tony's shoulder.

"Who the fuck are you, pip squeak." Caleveras sneered, "… and why the fuck are you sticking your dick in what clearly none of your business?"

"Pip squeak?" Tony muttered bitterly under his breath as he strained to keep his smile. He was taller than almost everyone except the Samson glaring down at him. He kept grinning at Caleveras as he backed both himself and Bianca up a step disguised as a shuffle. The big boy already had reach on him. Tony needed distance so he kept talking.

"Frankly, this is my business. And it's going to be everybody else's business if anything happens to the young lady behind me." He jerked a thumb at the girl at his back. "You must be new around here if you don't know a Mancuso on sight."

The music is low enough that people around heard and started to looking uncomfortable. He saw the contact stiffen even though the greaseball seemed woefully ignorant.

"So what? All pussy is the same… no matter what their daddy's name is." Caleveras growled, tugging on the arm of the girl still sitting hunched over, practically in his lap.

Her cry of pain had Bianca snarling and Tony grasped her wrist to keep her still, gaining another shuffle step away from the goliath. There still no sign of Mancuso guards nor the cops, if they'd even been called, and he could hear Bianca's heartrate ticking up as she seemed to realize how alone they were in this sea of strangers. There was nothing to do but for Tony to keep stalling until he saw a way out of there.

"Why don't you ask your VIP friends. See if they agree with how you're handling things." Tony shrugged, "Ask them if their ready to explain to Big Mike face to face about his baby girl getting hurt on their watch and on their property. See if this place isn't shut down by dawn by order of the Mayor's Office. Or burned down to the foundation when the signature cocktail suddenly becomes a malatov."

He glanced at the other VIP's and was glad to see how pale they'd all started looking. Even Caleveras appeared like he was starting to catch a clue that something was on the cusp of going very ,very pear shaped.

Tony turned to the sentinel. "You really want to play a part in all this? This isnt exactly low key, you know. You get in trouble here… you bring that trouble home. And you really don’t want to bring this kind of trouble home, do you?"

He held the man's cold eyes, pushing back the feeling of being a bug caught under a magnifying glass.

"You really don't want the Mancusos looking at you too closely, man. Wondering why you're here in their territory. And if they start looking at you, with that comes the other families, the cops, the AG and the FBI are all going to start wondering and looking. You do not want that kind of heat over a piece of pussy." 

The Man stared at Tony for way too long, the entire club seemed frozen around them. Finally, he nodded, a sharp move, and stood to leave, buttoning his light grey suit jacket as he did. Caleveras snarled and all of a sudden Tony was moving sideways, pushing Bianca further back as he dodged a giant fist. He rolled with it, only getting grazed but his cheek still exploded in pain. Fucker was wearing a huge ass ring. With a stone in it.

The fight was brutal but he was able to hold his own, even with his opponent having seven inches and a hundred pounds on him. Tony was quick and kept his distance, his blade flashing in the pulsing lights of the club in between kicks and jabs. He took a couple of hits that had him on the ground and rolling away to maintain the distance he needed, the guard roaring and bloody on his tail.

Thankfully, his spars with Steve had given him enough endurance to last long enough for the bigger man to become woozy with blood loss, his huge form lumbering as his face went pale, skidding in the blood pooling on the light up dance floor. Tony skimmed just out of reach of his large grasping hands, not wanting to go in for the kill even though it was the perfect opportunity. This wasn't a fight to the death. He was still on the edge of self defense. The man would live if someone called the paramedics.

Finally, the guard went down with a pained groan and Tony relaxed just a bit, trying to control his breathing as he pulled a pale looking Bianca behind him, tuning to face Caleveras once more. The man returned a look that promised death, his dark eyes raging as he sat on the other side of the grisly tableau. Suddenly, the Sentinel cleared his throat and, with one last searching look at Tony, turned on his heel to leave.

"Forrester…" Caleveras shouted only to choke at the laser sharp glare the Man cut his way.

If looks could kill, the grease ball would have been nothing but a grease stain on the expensive looking light up dance floor. Tony noted the name, Forrester. No doubt an alias but it seemed to be a favoured one if the sudden fury in those cold eyes was any indication. Caleveras could do nothing but chase after his contact, pushing the girl from the booth as he all but trampled over her to catch up.

Bianca sidestepped around him and darted toward her friend. Tony stayed close, watching the crowd warily as he pulled them both towards the back door of the club where his car is parked. There was still no sign of the cops nor were there any Mancuso Soldatos in sight. The eyes of those who were still around weren't overtly hostile but they weren't friendly either and Tony did not have it in him to fight his way out of the place if any of the weasel's men had stuck around. The night air was refreshingly brisk and he took a deep breath, even if it made his ribs twinge. Fuck Goliath and his fucking iron fist and fucking gold ring. Strong fucker. And quick for his size too. Seriously, fucking ow.

He led them to his Lincoln, fumbling the keys enough to unlock the door and coax a trembling girl, Bianca had called her Daisy, into the car and along the bench leather seat.  She obeyed his soft direction quickly, scooting along the seat until she'd tucked herself up against the opposite door. Tony nodded in approval then turned to the brunette beside him.

"Can you drive a stick shift?" he handed Bianca his keys.

She looked at the keys then at him in confusion. "Why? My car is just around front."

"Can't. " He shook his head, eyes already going a bit blurry. "Not enough time. And they might be waiting for you there. And I'm in no condition to drive."

He ducked into the car and slid across until he was next to Daisy, then looked at the stubborn faced  Bianca. He sighed, wincing as he braced his ribs which were really starting to hurt as the adrenaline wore off.

"Look, we've been here long enough that someone from your family should have been here right now. But they're not. That's not good news for us. We also don't know if Caleveras left anyone behind and we really don't know if anyone from inside there might think about coming out here when they realize the Don isn't going to pop out of the nearest corner like the boogie man. They may not hurt you but some dumb fuck might think kidnapping you for ransom is worth the risk. Worse if the cops get here. So we need to go… now."

That had her getting in the car and starting the engine. "Jesus, it's like driving a fucking boat."

"Sailing a fucking boat." He slumped against the leather seat.

"Excuse the fuck?"

"Never mind."

"I thought so."

He heard a giggle from his right and turned his head to the still sniffling Daisy, her heavy eye makeup smudged and running as her long hair hung around her pale, yet pretty face. He tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"Daisy, right?" he kept his voice soft as he took in her hunched and trembling frame. "Like in the Daisy Girl."

She gave him a look from under her hair "Are you calling me the nuclear option?"

"Never." That had him grinning. "You'd have to be blonde for that."

That got him a soft snort. "It's not even my favrourite flower. I like Irises."

"Duly noted." He nodded sagely. "My name's Antimo but my friends call me Tony."

"Hi, Tony."

"Hi, Daisy"

Bianca huffed, her body tense as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. "At least you're not calling her a piece of pussy anymore right? Coglione" *jerk*

"Hey…" Tony winced in both protest and pain as she took a turn way too fast. "I had to make her seem not worth the trouble. Did you see how many body guards they had? And how many we didn't have? And that figlio di puttana…  he was fuckin' built like a brick shit house. Seriously, did they grow that asshole out on a farm somewhere? What the actual fuck."

She snorted inelegantly. "So you were sacred?"

"Yes!" he stared at her incredulously. "Most rational people would be."

"I wasn't scared."

He turned to share a look with Daisy before giving Bianca the gimlet eye, remembering how her hands gripped the back of his shirt back in the club. "Yeah, sure."

Daisy giggled once more, louder this time, and Bianca flushed, her cheeks going pink as she scowled deeper. Tony chuckled weakly, his breath rasping as his eyes started to grow heavy. He grunted, slumping in his seat even further. He blinked slowly staring in confusion as he raised his hand and saw it slicked red.

"…fuck." he mumbled and turned to a frightened looking Daisy as she also stared at the blood on his hands.

"Tony, you're bleeding." her voice trembled. He wanted to comfort her but he was feeling so tired.

"m'srry dazy gurl," blinking slowly at her as he slurred. "I think am gonna pass out now."

The last thing he heard was Daisy screaming out his name and Bianca's panicked voice.

Chapter Text

Tony catalogued his pain, feeling more floaty and less heavy as he twitched his fingers and toes. His face and his side throbbed along to his heartbeat as he squirmed, grunting as he reached up to touch tentative fingertips to the shiner that was already blooming around his left eye. His other hand went to the bandage that was neatly applied unto his lower right side. It was in that moment he realized that he was shirtless, sweaty, barefoot and laying on someone's really nice couch. He froze; his wide green eyes shooting up to take in the room around him.

And met the warm gaze of a smiling Alona Mancuso. Tony ducked his head respectfully and flushed at his own bare chest, half sitting up and wincing as the wound in his side pulled.

"Buena Sera, Signora Mancuso."

Her smile widened, "Please, call me Alona." 

"I'm pretty sure I couldn't, Signora."

"Why not ? You saved my daughter's life tonight." Her voice was accented, husky and sweet like honey. "And the life of the daughter of a good family friend. That has surely earned you the right to address me familiarly."

"I didn't do much, Signora. I was just was in the right place at the right time. Besides… " he gestured to his bandaged side, "… I should be thanking you for the first aid for…"

"A piece of broken glass. Bianca said you went down hard a couple of times."  Alessio Mancuso stood in the doorway, wiping his hands. He was the rebellious middle son, his brown hair hung around his handsome face as his eyes ran down unabashedly down Tony's chest. Face heating up as the open inspection, Tony shifted and tried not to cross his arms, grinning to cover his discomfort.

"Yeah well, you should see the other guy." he joked. "So I have you to thank for the first aid?"

The other man tilted his head. "You can thank me by doing as my mother says."

"I'd rather be thanked with some cookies." Tony wrinkled his nose. "Are those Cucidati I smell?"

Alessio raised an eyebrow. "Good nose. Sentinel?"

Tony shrugged. "Barely."

"I will get you some cookies but you should know just to give in to Mama. Everyone always does."

Tony looked back at the still smiling Alona and waved at his own bare chest. "Maybe if I could get a shirt to go with those cookies."

"Get something from Enzo's closet. he's side enough around the shoulders." Alona chuckled.

"Indeed, he is." Alessio's eyes were still on Tony's body.

Tony blushed once more as Alessio hummed and spun on his heels, leaving the two in the room… alone. He swallowed heavily, feeling oddly exposed to be half naked in front of Don Mancuso's wife, sitting and sweating on her fancy expensive couch.

"Antimo, is it?" her voice was calm and soothing as if dealing with a skittish animal.

Tony nodded. "DiNapoli. Yes, Signora."

"Still with the Signora." her raised eyebrow looked just like her son's.

"Yes…um… Ma'am?"

She laughed. "You are a stubborn one"

"I like to call it respectful, Ma'am"

"Nothing I can say to get you to loosen up, Antimo?"

"It's Tony, Ma'am… and no… not tonight, Ma'am."

"I see. Very well, Tony." she leaned a cheek on her fist and hummed "Another time then."

Tony didn't respond to that. What could he even say. Thankfully, Alessio came back with a plain white shirt and a tin foil package of warm cookies. He slipped the shirt on quickly, running his hands down the material with a pleased hum. It was good quality. He would have to get it dry cleaned and returned.

Thankfully his police wire was in his belt and not in his shirt. He wasn’t sure if he could talk his way out of that kind of trouble, even if he had saved Bianca and Daisy that night. He was nervous enough as it was and just wanted to get the hell out of there and report back to his handler. Thankfully, Alona let him go and he was soon out in the night air once more, Alessio escorting him to his car. He devoured the cookies as he made his way back to his cover's apartment and spent the night debriefing on everything that happened. 

He was picked up in the planned drag net that took the whole ring, to build his cover as DiNapoli and protect his Confidential Informant. They scooped up most of Caleveras' crew and, with Tony's information and evidence, got them to turn on each other pretty easily. It was a bit of a surprise to see the ring collapse on itself like a house of cards but word on the street was that the big bad backer had pulled out of the entire operation and disappeared, leaving the local gang high and dry.

He was released after three days in holding, time spent making friends and connections in low places, and emerged into the sunlight; blinking at the light and hungry for a good cheese steak sub. Bianca was leaning against her car, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and ankles crossed. He stopped a ways off, just looking at her until she grinned and pushed her herself off to skip toward him.

"You don't look happy to see me."

"Should I be?" he gave her a flat look.

"We're friends aren't we?"

"Are we?" He blinked at her. "We met once. In a club. On a Tuesday."

"We've bled together." she smacked him on the shoulder playfully. "We're amici forgiati dal fuoco …  brothers forged in battle… bonded by blood."

"I pretty much remember being only one doing any actual bleeding."

"I need a favour." she pouted.

"I need a cheese steak."

"I know a place."

"As long as you're paying."

She took him to a small Italian place because of course she did, but the sandwiches were fantastic, the owners were welcoming and the soda refills never-ending. He made a note of it for future visits. They also did good pizza and pie. He was slurping the last of his drink when she sprang her main purpose on him.

"I really do need a favour." she played with the last of her fries. "I need to take Daisy to get some of her stuff at her old place. I want you to escort us there and back home."

"Don’t you have people for that?"

"I don't trust them. Not after that night." she shrugged as if that wasn't a bigger deal than she was making of it. "And Daisy wants to do it for herself. Claim back some of the autonomy taken from her."

He took a deep breath. "You don’t even know me."

"You didn’t know me…" she shot back. "… yet you saved us both that night."

"I recognized your face and didn't want a turf war if anything happened to you." he responded simply, "I needed to get you out of there and knew you weren't going to leave without your friend. Anyone would have done what I did."

She gave him a long look, her eyes dark with some unnamed emotion "Not really, you know. … not many people would have done what you did last night."

"Look… " Tony rolled his shoulders. Jail cots were not made for comfortable sleeping. "… I really don’t think this is a good idea…"

"My dad wants to meet you."

Fuck. Tony groaned internally, dropping his chin to his chest as he sighed. "Not much choice then. "

"No. Not really."

He did a quick inhale. "When?"

"Dinner. Tonight at seven. The Mansion."

"Tonight?" He squawked. "I literally just got out of jail. I don't even have a suit."

Bianca perked up and grinned. "I know a place."

"Of course you do."

He looked sharp in the suit that cost a large chunk of his salary. He didn't let her buy the suit. She'd already bought lunch and he wasn't going to let her to pay for that as well. He also got shoes and went back to his actual apartment to change and groom after dropping off his car to get detailed. One did not roll up to dinner at Mancuso Mansion looking like a hobo. Unless you got the crap beat out of you at a club apparently.

Alona was a stunning hostess, smiling at him as he agreed to call her Donna Alona. He hid his nervousness at meeting Big Mike and Enzo but he's confident enough in his look to go for respectful charm. Daisy looked much better, her colour and bounce returned as she hugged him warmly. He pretended not to know his cutlery at the table, his eyes following Alona and copying her movements, aware that his actions were noticed by the others. DiNapoli was a boy from the slums, not a future baronet with etiquette training.

Dinner was delicious and he let his hostess know with true appreciation, easily answering her subtle questions about his past and filling out the back story that the Don had no doubt already pulled. Thank God for Eddie back at MI6 working his magic to make Tony Dinozzo disappear. He's just the right balance of nervous energy and charisma that even Big Mike is smiling though Enzo had still to crack anything but a scowl.

Tony stopped himself at his third glass of wine, his face flushed as he regaled them with a funny story over desert; hoping that the evening ended as well as it began and that he could make it home for some well deserved rest and relaxation. Unfortunately, Bianca was determined in her mission for Daisy and brought it up right when the evening was winding down.

Thankfully, Big Mike stopped all talk on the matter before Bianca and Enzo's sniping got too loud and ordered them both up to the study for further discussion; leaving Alona and Alessio to see Tony off. And so, with another batch of warm cookies and the softest kiss to his cheek, Donna Alona bid him farewell and watched from the doorway of golden light as Alessio walked him down the driveway to his car.

Tony slept like the dead in his own bed, waking up late the next morning and breakfasting on the cookies and a large cappuccino from his own machine. He'd agreed with his handler not to be to eager, to let the Mancuso's pull him in of their own accord. They were a cautious bunch and most of the under covers they'd tried to insert into the Famiglia often got stuck at low level positions. Tony had a rare oppurtunity, having made contact with one of Mike's own children, and they didn't want to lose it due to being too hasty.

He got a call two days later. A chance to prove his worth through compromise. He would accompany Bianca, Daisy and a small squad of guys to Daisy's for her journey in self recovery and get them back home. Her grandmother was flying in from Palermo and would be taking her back to the old country to heal from the "unexpected misfortune she suffered due to her misguided teen rebellion". Yikes. 

Tony agreed and arranged for an early morning run. He studied maps of the city, tracing at least six different routes to avoid traffic and escape if needed. He rode shot gun  in the car with the girls, one guy driving while the rest piled into the second car. He assumed Enzo had chosen these men especially so he trusted them to a point, still checking them all out with some quick chatting and careful observations as they gathered in the kitchen for some pre-dawn coffee.

They were on the road before sunrise, both girls still yawning as they made good time through the early morning streets. He sent two guys to the back of the building, two in the front as a look out and two with him and the girls to schlep whatever Daisy chose to take away. He'd had her make a list before hand and she and Bianca quickly stepped into her bedroom while Tony and the other two guys make quick work of the items in the main living area.

Within fifteen minutes they were down the stairs once more, Daisy lingering for a few more seconds in the remnants of the life she'd once built for herself. With a look from Tony, Bianca gently hugged her friend and guided her towards the door. Her family would be in charge of packing the rest of the flat so Tony secured the door and covered the rear as they piled into the cars once more. He breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the heavy gates of the mansion, smile turning into a frown as Alessio met them at the door, his face serious and concerned.

"Caleveras was bailed out then disappeared."

With Big Mike and Enzo both in the city for business and Alessio heading out soon after for one of the family's legitimate events; Tony agreed to stay on with the security team until he rest of the family members and their entourages returned later that night. He did a few runs of the house, cataloguing entryways and exits as well as floor planning and escape routes. The big house was massive and complicated with more than a few places that made for good hiding spots.

He chatted more with the house security team, sourcing his own radio and keep track of chatter as he made his nth round; before being called into the kitchen by Alona. The room was all natural light, warm marble and brass fixtures, timeless décor fitted with modern appliances. The espresso was divine and the cakes delicious as they chatted, Tony making her laugh with heavily modified tales of his grandmother and her sharp wit.

Things got a bit more complicated when Enzo's wife Lucia dropped off their son Damiano for a night with his Nonna. It added a layer of risk to the situation but Tony quickly adjusted his plans and compensated. Damiano was a sweet kid, easy to smile and not too fussy once in his grandmother's arms. Lucia didn't stay long and a delicious lunch came soon after.

The afternoon was quiet enough, with both Alona and Damiano down for a nap and the girls lounged outside by the pool, Tony split his time between roaming the halls around the master bedroom, patrolling the balcony overlooking the water and checking in with security. He texted his contacts for any news on Caleveras but word on the street that the guy was hopping mad that his team had imploded and that the big bucks he'd been relying on had pulled out so suddenly. And knowing the guy's hot and unpredictable temper, that didn't bode well for anyone.

They were in the kitchen making dinner that evening when the faint sound of suppressed gunfire reached the edge of Tony's hearing. He froze, staring at the direction of the sound, dialing up the sense until the staccato popping came again. He stood, clicking his radio as he strode to the window and cursing when he saw none of the men who'd been patrolling earlier. When the security room didn't respond, he got moving; picking up Damiano and quietly commanding Alona to follow him quickly to the wine cellar located right off the kitchen.

"The girls…" she gasped as she followed, stopping briefly to pull a gun and a box of bullets out from behind a fancy art piece.

"I'll get them secure." he promised as she entered the code for the sliding door.

The door was re-enforced and the room beyond climate controlled. There was also an escape tunnel through the back. Handing her the kid, he grabbed some fruit, power bars and a case of bottled water from the pantry and watched as she secured her grandson in an out of sight and came back to the stairs, her face solemn.

"There's a loaded shot gun in the linen closet at the top of the stairs. I've already pressed the panic button down here so re-enforcements should be a fifteen minutes out.

He nodded sharply and listened for the clunk of the magnetic lock before darting off and up the stairs. The sawed off shot gun was right were she said it was and he made his way to Daisy's room as the pops grew closer. He found Bianca already armed with a pearl handled .22 from her purse, her face stern as she curled one arm around a pale and trembling Daisy.

"They're getting closer." her voice trembled but her bright eyes were fierce and determined. "Mom, Dami…?"

"Secure in the wine cellar. Armed. Panic button pushed. Back up on the way. We need to get you safe."

He took them to Mike's study. It had the thickest door. To his surprise Bianca went to the book shelf and pulled a secret lever, revealing a hidden doorway. "Very Haunted Mansion. Sweet."

She grinned in return as she ushered Daisy through the passageway. "This goes straight to the garage."

"Don't go all the way there. " he advised. "We don't know if they've breeched that area. Stay in the passages and don't make noise."

"You're not coming?" Daisy's voice was high and panicked. Bianca looked upset.

"Don't worry, Daisy girl." Tony gave her a smile. "I've got a bit of a score to settle with the old grease ball.

The girl huffed a laugh. "Heh. He is pretty greasy."

He looked at Bianca. "I have to make sure they don't have the time to find you or your mom before back up gets here. We need a distraction."

She nodded sagely. "You are pretty distracting."

He just grinned and wriggled his eyebrows as she pushed the door closed and the shelf became whole once more. The smile fell off his face as he stretched out his hearing. Soft footsteps on the gravel walk. Gurgles of men choking on blood as they lay dying. The occasional pop pop of suppressed gun fire. Heavy breathing of the kill squad coming their way.

He made it down the stairs before he heard glass breaking and the hiss of gas grenades. Blocking his nose and mouth, he slipped into the kitchen for a damp cloth to serve as a mask. He blinked against the sting, cursing himself for not asking about that earlier. He didn't even know if there were any in the house.

The squad was armed for bear and a head on confrontation was a death wish so he'd have to play this quiet. Thankfully, Steve drilled Tony relentlessly in quiet close combat, stalking and the art of using whatever you have at hand to get the job done. The gas ended up working in his favour as he took out two with his belt knife, sadly losing it as the second guy stumbled away choking on blood.

He retreated to the kitchen and said a small prayer for forgiveness as he raided Alona's expensive knife set. It was Dalstrong brand and he did a small fist bump at seeing the glimmering blade of the heavy cleaver called the Annihilator. A wicked looking thing, it was heavy enough to break bone and sharp enough to cut flesh.

A few more were taken down with hits to the back of the head or slices to the knee. He took a man's hand off with the cleaver, kicking it away; gun still clenched in its hold. By the time the gas had cleared, he'd thinned the herd by half. He could hear Caleveras yelling in rage somewhere in the halls, calling out Bianca as a bitch and Daisy as a cheap whore who didn't know her place.

Tony took out a guy who was getting too close to the wine cellar, grabbing his suppressed semi automatic and putting down two more heading for the stairs. Alarmed voices grew in volume as the remaining men began finding the prone bodies. Caleveras was still  somewhere screaming, inarticulate with fury. Tony threw the cleaver at one of the hitmen, following right behind it to yank it back out of the man's bloody back with a loud squelch.  Dropping it from one hand to the other to change the grip, he brought the blunt back side of the blade down on the man's neck, sending him sprawling to the ground. Two more left.

He body tackled the next guy, rolling them along the ground as the last man came around the corner, gun drawn and cocked. Using the guy as a shield, Tony could feel the body above him jerk as the bullets hit the guy's back. Gripping the gun the now dead guy still held, he aimed it at the approaching gun man and shot out the man's legs, taking a few body shots when the man collapsed to the floor with a scream.

He was barely able to make it off the hardwood and scramble around a corner when Caleveras opened fire with his semi automatic, spraying the walls and floors with bullets. His side stung, burning hot as he did a quick check. A graze… deeper than he liked but at least he didn't have a bullet stuck in him.

Gripping the cleaver tight, he snuck around to the grease ball's back; trying to figure out a way to get close. The man was keeping himself in the open, the grand foyer of the mansion wrecked by bullets. Dust and wooden splinters were kicked up as he continued to scream and fire in a wild circle, nearly catching Tony a couple of times by sheer chance. The gunfire was deafening as it shredded the walls and sprayed the space with shards of shattered glass and falling crystals from the large chandelier.

Then, almost jarringly, the shots stopped, leaving only the useless click click clack of an empty chamber. Tony took a quick peek, eyes narrowing as he was the dumbstruck look on the other man's face as he scrambled for another mag and came up short. With a low growl, Tony loped towards the man, cleaver raised and ready.

Shocked as the grease ball was at the sudden attack, he quickly rallied and held his own with a small flip blade he managed to pull from his pocket. He was still no match for a furious Tony though and soon enough he was facing the same fate of a thousand cuts his behemoth body guard had faced at the club. This time though, Tony was way more pissed off and slightly less forgiving.

The back of his knees, the base of his spine, his shoulders … all bitten deep by Tony's hungry blade until he knelt in the middle of the destruction he'd wrought, blood pooling under him; the golden light of the chandelier shining down on his still form.

This was the scene Enzo finally burst in on. Caleveras, his face beautiful without its cruelty, kneeling in a crimson pool of blood, head bowed as if in prayer; a heavliy panting Tony standing sentry behind him, soaked in crimson himself, his eyes dark and hard, blood dripping from the raw blade clenched in his hand.

"Santa Maria, Madre di Dio, prega per noi peccatori..."  a trembling voice came from one of the crew at his back, several men making silent signs of the cross as Enzo took a cautious step further into the wreck of the foyer.

"DiNapoli…Tony…"

Tony forced his ragged breathing to calm, swallowing hard. "Alona and Damiano are secured in the wine cellar. The girls are in Big Mike's office." he gestured at the bodies sprawled around the adjoining rooms. "…twelve man crew including Caleveras. They came through the back. Haven't been able to get through to security. They may be dead or unconscious."

"Cristo sulla croce!" came a low murmur, perfectly echoing what the rest of them were surely feeling. 

Tony retreated to the nearby bathroom, hands trembling as he washed the blood off, his eyes starting to blur as he tried to get the red from under his fingernails. He washed the cleaver as well, absently wondering if Alona would ever use the thing to meal prep again. His hearing was still dialed up, picking up careful footsteps and low, frightened whispers of 'Il Macellaio Sanguinario' amidst curt orders from Enzo.

He faintly heard Alona's calm warmth, Damiano's joy at seeing his father. He heard Bianca's concerned questions and Daisy's whimpers before having to pull back, the migraine from straining his senses blooming behind his eyes. He sat heavily on the closed toilet seat and rested his aching head in his hands, his body starting to shake as the adrenaline faded.

He lost time and then there was Alessio's soft voice beside him, a tentative touch on his wrist. He looked up at the man kneeling beside him, blinking hazily as he tried to understand what was being said. He nestled his cheek into the younger man's cupped hand and sighed, his sentinel finally relaxing completely into the gentle touch.

He didn't remember much more after that.

Chapter Text

They called him the Bloody Butcher of Bella Vista from then on, the morbid story only growing wilder as it spread from person to person, gang to gang. He didn't mind the rumours, they only helped his status within the Famiglia. He'd already squared his actions away with the brass, the inquiry into his actions that night put them down to sentinel instincts, signed off by a department SGAC rep. It also helped that none of the men that night had actually died by his hand, except for Caleveras himself, though more than a few came close due to severe blood loss.

Fortunately, Enzo had decided to make a lesson out of the men and had dumped them in a pile at the door of the same club where it all started instead of just throwing them all in a concrete pit at a random construction site. Tony was glad for it. Although he had no regrets on anything he'd done to protect those under his care, the cop within him shied away against being judge, jury and executioner.

Alona had let him keep the knife, just laughing and hugging him when he sheepishly promised to buy her a new set. Even Enzo had smiled at that, his tearful wife in one arm and his giggling son in the other. Daisy's Nonna had kissed him on both cheeks and thanked him for saving her 'bella nipotina' not once but twice in a week. Tony had blushed red, much to everyone's amusement and hid behind a chuckling Alessio.

As far as la Famiglia was concerned, Antimo DiNapoli was a made man. Smart resourceful, quick with a joke and a smile but with a ruthless core that got things done so that they stayed done. He steadily worked his way up the ranks, doing small jobs and leading small teams as was the norm; not wanting to trade on the family's favour or gratitude. He felt it better to prove himself, prove to the wider network as a whole that he was more than just a ghost story, a flash in the pan boogieman or some good looking guido, fancied by Bianca and tolerated by Big Mike.

It took him six months to become one of Enzo's Consigliores behind the smooth and swarthy Luca who'd been Enzo's school mate and Caterina, an older cougar of a cousin who was as brilliant as she was sexual.  Tony knew better than to take her flirtation seriously. She was one to chew her lovers up and spit out their bones and Tony was in no way ready to handle someone like her.

Alessio on the other hand, was the real danger to Tony's peace of mind. Sweet, smart and funny, the younger Mancuso ticked all of Tony's boxes; his warm brown eyes all to easy to drown in when he smiled. All he had to do was blink those beautiful eyes and pout those full lips and Tony would be wrapped around his little finger and led along by his dick. And as eagerly as Alessio chased him, just as eagerly Tony avoided crossing that line.

It was one thing to flirt, it was a next thing to engage in a relationship with his boss' son. He was terrified of waking up fitted with a new pair of cement shoes for sexing up Big Mike's baby boy, and even more afraid of Alona's motherly wrath. Bianca was merciless as she laughed at his dilemma.

"You're toast, paisà." she cackled into her beer. "Don't you know he's just like mama. What Lessio wants, Lessio gets. And that boy wants you bad, cassanova."

Tony groaned into his own beer, making a face at the warmth of the liquid before signaling the bartender for a replacement. "Some help you are, stronza. I will find a way to get you back from the afterlife after I find myself sleeping with the fishes one morning."

"Lessio would rather be the one taking you to 'sleep'."

"Yeah, but Enzo will be the one booking me for an up close appointment with a wood chipper."

She took a long look at him, long enough for Tony to shift uncomfortably.

"Are you more scared of papa killing you or of finding something real with my brother."

Tony slumped onto the bar, defeated. "Why did I even become friends with you?"

"Because we're amici forgiati dal fuoco, primo." She just slapped him hard on the back and grinned. "No take backs."

She was right though. Tony was terrified about getting into something real with Alessio because even though the man ticked almost all of Tony's boxes, the person Alessio cared for wasn't real at all. Antimo DiNapoli was a construct, a fiction. And on top of that he was enemy. Tony wasn't just a liar, he was a traitor, actively working against the family. No relationship could be built on that. Not one expected to last. Tony would be the only one walking into this with his eyes open. And if it grew into something more, something precious; he would only be breaking both their hearts with his foolish decision.

There was no one he trusted enough to talk to about it. His handler, an older detective named Geralt, while understanding of the murky waters of undercover work, would just encourage him getting closer to a position of trust. He'd told both Steve and Lawry the bare bones of his undercover op but not the details and the others just knew that his correspondence would be slowing down for a while because of work. Even Mike, as understanding and a wise as he'd always proven to be; couldn't be told enough details to give him sage advice. Weirdly, that left him with the one person he'd never thought he'd approach about the subject.

Mama Lona, as she'd finally gotten him to call her; looked radiant as she sat in the gazebo in the midst of her blooming personal garden. They were having a simple brunch, just the two of them, with the other security guards patrolling far enough away to give them complete privacy. Mob families didn't keep too many sentinels close unless they were completely trusted and Tony felt lucky to be counted among that rare group. Rarer still that he was granted access to the mansion so easily. Mainly because his low level allowed him to be underestimated as always.

She listened patiently as he nervously told her about his fear… his doubt. He didn't want to jump into this thing too quick with Alessio because he was Mancuso. He didn't want to promise something he couldn't give the other man. He'd always been a 'love'em and leave'em satisfied' kind of guy. What would happen if things didn't work out. What if he hurt Alessio or broke his heart? What if Alessio broke his? Would he have to leave? Would he be banished by Mike and lose everything he worked for?

Tony found himself gasping for breath by the time he finished his sudden word vomit, flushing pink as he took a shaky sip of his tea. He quickly stuffed an entire cookie into his mouth, cheeks bulging as if to physically stop himself from saying another word. He kept his gaze down, fiddling with another cookie even though he was still chewing. Thankfully, the other woman gave him time to calm down and finish his cup.

With a soft hand against his cheek, she gently tilted his head up to meet her eyes. She reminded him so much like Mags in that moment that his eyes stung. He covered her hand with his, leaning into the caress and taking comfort in her touch.

"Tonio." her voice was a balm to his heart.

"Mama." he whispered softly without thinking, his eyes falling closed.

"Oh, ragazzo mio…" her voice held a joyful awe. "… it's going to be all right."

Her advice was to talk to her son himself. That Alessio was a grown up and made his own decisions. That even if they didn't work out, they still had given it a try. That's what adults did, they looked at the facts, talked about their concerns and made decisions together. And if things didn't work out in the end, she wouldn't let her husband banish him back to pick grapes in the old country.

He'd laughed at that, letting her thumb wipe away the tear that escaped to his cheek. He knew that every one was well aware that he favoured her. He'd revealed the raw loss of his mother's and grandmother's deaths with sparingly, but enough that people knw that Alona had his heart and his loyalty and that he would do almost anything for her.

She'd sent him off with a belly full of tea and sweets and a heart full of courage; and he found himself heading straight to Alessio's swanky apartment; the place the younger man retreated to when he wanted privacy not gained at the busy main house. He let Tony in, dressed in a simple thin white vest and faded jeans, his bare feet and wild hair already making Tony's blood race as he led him further into the place. 

He'd listened to Tony's arguments with the same pleasant patience as his mother and shared some of his own thoughts over wine, moving from the kitchen to the plush couch as the conversation got serious. Just when Tony felt that they'd talked themselves into a circle, Alessio put down his wine glass on the coffee table with a distinct clink and promptly climbed into Tony's lap, his hand slipping down the tall man's chest to his belt and then further down to cup his hardening cock. Tony shuddered, his hands gripping the cushions tight as he stared into those bright eyes.

"I want this. I want you." Alessio's breath was warm against his jaw, his lips just brushing against the skin just under Tony's ear as the hand on his cock squeezed. "… and I always get what I want."

Tony jumped, a loud whimper escaping him as he nodded; moaning wantonly as he was rewarded with a devastating kiss that left him light headed. "Oh fuck… you're dangerous." he gasped, his hands coming up to hold the smaller man's hips in case his own hips bucked too high and unseated the body squirming close.

"I'm a Mancuso…" Alessio just smiled the same leonine smile Enzo did when he was particularly pleased. "Danger runs in my blood."

Tony could only nod stupidly as his mouth was claimed once more.

He woke up sated and aching in all the right places the next morning, the smell of coffee in the air and a hot mouth on his cock. Forget dangerous, Alessio was lethal in bed; the very definition of 'topping from the bottom'. He was demanding and wild, with wicked hands and that smug smile as Tony yelled himself hoarse or felt his eyes roll. He'd worked Tony like a fine tuned instrument that had the taller man lapsing into rough Italian then into curses in different languages before reducing him to  non-verbal grunts and cries, leaving him a trembling, blissed out mess.

It made him wonder if his title of Sex Machine was as deserved as his frat brothers had thought.

Their secret lasted until family dinner that night, a way too smug Alessio giggling with a grinning Bianca as Enzo frowned and gave Tony the gimlet eye. Alona had just kissed them both on the cheek while it was Big Mike's not too subtle joke during dinner that had Tony choking on his water and going bright red as he watched the man give a big sigh and open his wallet, passing a crisp hundred to his oldest son.

"There was a bet and you didn't tell me?" he hissed to Bianca who let out a braying laugh.

"I couldn't." she wiped her eyes and clapped him on the shoulder. "It would have been insider information and unfair to everyone else.

Tony wiped around to look at Alessio. "Did you know?"

"Yes…" his lover admitted readily. "… but I wasn't allowed to take part. Insider information."

Tony tried not to slide under the table in embarrassed dismay, only huffing and smiling when Alessio squeezed his hand and pulled him in for a chaste kiss. Two months later and they were still going hot and heavy, word of the Butcher being led around by the younger Mancuso boy spreading fast on the streets. He faced some push back from the crews but their fear of Big Mike and Tony's penchant for really sharp blades kept them mostly in line.

He was given more responsibility, more access to information which he made use of to get certain 'random' criminals and crimes busted by police. Most of the busts were small fry but a lot of undercover work was using those small fish as bait for bigger fish. In fact, that was how they nabbed Forrester when he tried to slip his toes back into the Philly pond, the lesson with Caleveras not truly learned. That bust led all the way back to a Denver outfit and the FBI swooped in quick enough to grab the reins on that op.

Tony's work yielded good results, even gaining ground on the local Yakuza and Bratva through his networking and intel gathering. He was picked up a few times himself and made a habit of swaggering out of the station with a cocky grin as the family laywer strode behind. He would then go home to Alessio for a hot shower, a hot meal and a scorching hot round of sex.

He was twenty months in and looking to get out when things started really going sideways. The brass had enough evidence to snatch up Enzo but Big Mike was a wily bastard. Tony was teetering on the edge of truly losing himself into Antimo DiNapoli and had already spoken to his handler about extraction. Just then the spoiled son of some favoured uncle flew in from Palermo and started running his own small crew of hot bloods under the Mancuso banner.

He was rude, crass and wild and his boys were just as wild. Big Mile and Enzo spent as much time cleaning up his messes as they did running their own business and it soon fell to Tony to try the keep the young buck in line. Unfortunately Tony wasn't blood and young Giovanni… known as Johnny on the block, didn't hold much respect for anyone but family. That didn't stop him from leering at Bianca and being borderline surly to Alona whenever he visited the house, which just made Tony hate the little fucker even more.

He warned Enzo about the kid, but the Cappo had his own frustrations. Johnny was the favoured son of a well respected Don back in the old country and Big Mike was having to handle the situation carefully, especially in the watchful eyes of the other Famiglias along the coast. So Tony could do nothing but clench his teeth and keep quiet as he ran himself ragged soothing the dust the kid kept kicking up.

It hit the breaking point when Johnny fucked things up, got rough with a local Russian Bratva princess and got the shit kicked out of him by her bear of a brother. He was left alive on the Mancuso name only but did the asshole appreciate that? No, he fucking didn't. By the end of it all they'd kept the peace by the skin of their teeth with some fast talking, some concessions from Mike to the Bratva Pakhan Vasiliev, and Johnny's crew in an industrial furnace. Johnny was sent home in traction, with his tail between his broken legs, leaving a fucking ocean of mess in his wake.

It all had left Tony sick, physically and emotionally. Though he often felt conflicted by how much he loved Alona and the Mancusos and the good works they did in the local community, he never forgot that they were a crime family and most of the money that funded their life style and philanthropy came from blood and violence. He'd had to remind himself of that more often as he was pulled closer and closer into the family's bosom. His loyalty to justice fighting down his sentinel's instinct to make them tribe.

Days before the op was scheduled to wrap up, the alphabet soups all jockeying to lead the charge and take all the credit, Tony was called into Big Mike's study. His heart raced as he settled into chair in front of the Don's desk, the Don himself standing at the window, staring out at the city. Eventually the man spoke.

"How much do they have?"

Tony sucked in a sharp breath and then forcefully swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Enough to take both you and Enzo."

Mike hummed. "And Alessio?"

Tony shook his head. "I kept him as safe as I could. They may take him into custody but it would only be for show so they can play and making a concession if you make a deal. They have nothing on Bianca and I warned them strongly that touching Mama in any way would have everyone clam up tight and make you extremely non-cooperative. You should have someone to stay by her side when they come though… just in case."

He sat still as Mike stared at him for long, tense moments.

"You know…My lovely Lona once told me that…  " the older man mused "…. the strongest about your sentinel has always been your loyalty."

Tony flushed, chastising himself for letting his unwavering dedication to the maternal figures in his life shine through too strong. It was something he still struggled with as the older woman had become a large and beloved part of his life. His fake one and his real one.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked the older man, his mind racing on his options depending on the answer.

"No. Lona and Bianca both already think you are Coccolone… Alessio… well… " he chuckled at the bright blush that heated Tony's cheeks. "… and you've already done so much to protect them as is in your power. I reward loyalty."

"But…" he speared Tony with a sharp glare, "… to just let you go would make the family seem weak and we cannot afford to show anything but an unbreakable front in the coming days. You will leave Philadelphia and not return. If you do return, voluntarily and of your own volition, the bounty for your death will be activated and advertised. Do you understand?"

Tony nodded, relief and a weird kind of grief warring within him as he watched the usually strong Don's shoulders slump in the large wingback chair. He seemed years older and Tony was torn between comforting him and finding the fastest way out of the city.

"In a perfect world, I would have had you marry Alessio and become a Mancuso." the old man grinned at the shock on Tony's face. "You think Alona didn't suss out the depth of your feelings for my son? It was actually good news to me, the family needs someone like you. Smart enough to see what needs to be done, ruthless enough to do it and loyal enough to protect the family."

Tony found himself flushing once more, his eyes filled with with warring pride and sorrow.

"In perfect world… I would have stayed until the end."

"Si, si… Tonio…such is this life… " the old man sighed heavily, making Tony open his eyes and sit up straight. Mike looked older and more fragile than he'd ever seen him and it broke his heart all over again. But he  couldn't stay. To stay was to lose himself completely and Anthony Dinozzo had a life waiting out there for him. A family waiting.

"Just do one thing for me…" Mike continued. "… say goodbye to your Mama before you go ok?"

That had Tony shuddering and dropping his head into his hands, his eyes burning as he tried to just breathe. He'd let himself fall too far. Let himself feel too much, let himself pull them all into tribe as he'd done with anyone who'd shown him true care in the past. He'd fallen in love with Alona's sweet and generous nature, with Bianca's mischievousness, Alessio's passion and Enzo's quiet calm. It was going to hurt like hell to rip himself away from them, to be ready for the looks of confusion, betrayal and eventual hatred in their eyes.

He let out a moan as Mike's hand came to rest on his shoulder, offering silent comfort. God, Mike was offering him comfort, to the man who'd snuck into his family just to rip them apart from the inside. The lair and traitor and coward who was going to hop on the next plane out of town, never to return lest he get fitted with a new pair of cement shoes. He didn't know what to think. How to feel. It was like was feeling every emotion at once.

"Papa" he poured everything into that one word. A cry for help, for forgiveness, a plea for understanding, a protest of how unfair it all felt… anyhting and every word he couldn't say. Wouldn't ever say.

Mike's hand gave his shoulder once last squeeze. "I know, figlo, I know."

----------------------

He'd knelt at Alona's feet, her hand in his hair as he bowed his head to touch her knee. How she could look at him without anger or hatred he would never know. Leaving her felt like tearing out his own heart and it was only her firm order for him to go to Alessio that had him dragging himself away. Too many times in the drive to the apartment had him struggling between the life he'd built and the one he'd left behind.

He'd had to stop by a phone booth to call Steve, the conversation nothing but him sobbing over the line while Steve spoke soft comfort. His brother didn't ask any questions, he knew too well about classified missions. He just let Tony cry, without judgement or response. Dry eyed, aching and out of small change, Tony came home to his lover, calmer and on a more even keel.

The love they made that day was intense, Tony pouring everything he felt into Alessio, his kisses reverant, his touches hungry; his thick cock going deeper as his hips snapped forward ruthlessly. He swallowed his lover's moans and cries with devastating kisses, touching and tasting everything he was able to, his sentinel grounding all senses on his lover's body. The bed, the shower, all around the apartment until they were sated and curled around each other. Alessio in his arms, warm and solid for what would be the last time; dozing peacefully, Tony's tears disappearing into his hair.

He was scooped up to a safe house while the massive inter agency bust took place then flown to England to lick his wounds where he would be swallowed up by MI6 until the trials. He was able to finish his paper on Sentinels and Undercover Work which Eddie was proud to publish on his behalf. When not working himself to exhaustion, he grieved the Mancusos like family and it broke him in some ways. He worried Lawry by walking around like a ghost, silent and pale. He worried the others with his short, bleak attempts as correspondence and stilted phone calls.

Steve showed up in London and dragged him back to Colterstone Keep where he wore him ragged by running the country paths and doing exhausting farm work. They spent hours at the old ruins, Tony sitting in pained silence until the day the dam finally broke and all the roiling bile within him poured out to his brother. Steve was strong enough to handle it all, holding Tony as he screamed himself hoarse.  When his emergency leave came to an end, Steve left Tony in Lawry's hands, a therapist already chosen and vetted to help Tony rebuild himself.

By the time he was summoned back state side for the trial he was on more solid ground and ready to face the repercussions of his actions. He got his gold badge and promotion to Detective and though he was proud of himself and his work, it felt partly hollow. Security was high for the trial, Tony coming in only for his testimony because of Mike's verbal promise of retaliation. So it came as a great surprise when his lawyers approached Tony with shocking offer.

"Petition for Adult Adoption?" Tony stared stupidly  at the writing on the stick stack of pages. "What?"

The lawyer, Salvatore, one of those who'd often bailed Tony out and escorted him from the presinct, nodded solemnly. "You know, when Big Mike first brought this idea to me—adopting you, legally—I thought he was out of his mind. Not because of who you are. But because of what you did."

"You damn near tore this family apart. You should have been a marked man. Instead? You've earned something the Family doesn't hand out lightly."  He leaned in slightly,  "Respect. Forgiveness. … and love."

And wasn't that just a thin blade between the ribs. Tony clenched his fists, swallowing heavily as the man opened a leather folder, revealing adoption papers, power of attorney documents, and a simple silver pen.

"Legally, this is an adult adoption. On paper, Don Mancuso becomes your father. Not symbolic… official. That means you carry the Mancuso name in a way nobody can question. It gives you authority. It gives you inheritance rights. It gives you protection."

He tapped the folder.

"But here’s the key part—and why this isn’t just some sentimental gesture. The documents include what's called a conditional power structure. Everything stays quiet unless you come back. If you choose to step in—to protect the family, or God forbid, lead it—you won’t need to fight for your place. The paperwork will do the talking."

Salvatore slid the pen across the table, his voice softening

"Big Mike knows what you were. He also knows what you are now. You were our consigliere. You were a cop. But in his eyes? You’re still his son."

He caught and kept Tony's stunned gaze. "And sons don’t walk away without a way home."

Tony had to excuse himself to the bathroom for a minute, reeling from Salvatore's last words. Approved by the whole family. That meant Alona, Bianca, even Enzo and… oh god… Alessio. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to keep his heart from hammering through his chest.

Adult adoption. Mike wanted him as a son. Despite everything he'd done. They still wanted him.

Though the brass showed their disapproval loud and clear, Tony signed the papers. It seemed that Big Mike had been holding out on something big in order to get this last concession. Something he thought Tony was important enough to bargain with. He never found out, his presence all but frozen out of the law enforcement side by signing. But he didn't mind too much. He wasn't sticking around in this neck of the woods anyway.

Big Mike took a the longer sentence so that Enzo would get the shorter one at a better prison. Alona stayed strong as a mafia wife should, protecting Alessio and Bianca under her wings. She looked through Tony on the stand, calm and collected; and it took everything in him not to flinch at the lack of emotion in her gaze. If it wasn't for the adoption, he would have believed her indifference towards him.

Thankfully, neither Alessio nor Bianca were present as the courtroom was closed for security concerns. Tony didn't know whether to be relived or sad at not seeing them one more time. He worried about the family, their safety and how stable their power base was with two of it's pillars gone. Eddie had been able to get some info but Huxley had been the one to gather enough to give Tony a true layout of the land.

Thankfully the Families liked and respected Big Mike enough to close ranks against any challengers and he'd heard that Bianca had taken up more duties while Alessio put more effort into legitimatizing the businesses. He'd done what he could in the time he'd had to let them come out the other side of this with the least amount of damage and had left a few fail safes in place to protect them going forward. He could do no more. It was time to finally let go.

He resigned from Philly with good references and recommendations though he was surely in a few new files for the adoption bit. He took the time to make the rounds of his family as he decided what to do next. A long awaited reunion with his frat brothers, visits to Gunner and Sikes, a long holiday with John, Mary and Aunty Deb, back to England to celebrate Lawry's engagement to Cecily and to visit the memorial garden, a week in Florida with Sifu, a month in Reno letting Keiko put him through his paces; then to Baltimore to where Mike and Hank threw him mercilessly to the kids who ran him ragged around the city.

He promised Steve an actual vacation the next time he was state side, the Navy SEAL making the choice of where to go as almost all of the recent leaves had been spent supporting Tony through some kind of crisis or another. In fact, he told the man to just throw a dart at a map and Tony would make it happen, rain or shine. Steve had just laughed and promised to hold him to it.

He finally settled in Baltimore, Jason and Kimberly anchoring him in a way he hadn't realized he'd been craving. He rented the apartment over their garage though and spent his free nights baby sitting, helping with homework and going out to the park or to games. Mike was there like an older brother, generous with claps on the back or a hand ruffling his hair. Tony needed that, the touch. The connection. The hugs from the kids and the bumps on the shoulder from Hank. Huxley had his car and bike brought over and his Philly apartment packed up.

The place above Mike's garage was smaller so Tony also rented a small place closer to work for late nights and the occasional hook up. He never brought anyone back to the Stoker/Stanelys. His partner Danny was friendly and easy to work with while still being professional and patient, showing Tony the ropes as a Homicide Detective. The work was intriguing and Tony was learning a lot from the other veteran detectives. He joined the local basketball and department softball teams and made friends with the other parents at the kid's school functions. He learned to love having "Uncle Tony!" yelled at him from across fields, parks and parking lots.

He found himself getting kind of serious for a short time with a mundane woman named Wendy, but what started off as hot and heavy soon cooled when she started getting way too serious way too soon. When she started talking weddings he started talking pre-nups which pumped her brakes real fast. She then whipped out a pregnancy which he countered with his vasectomy and didn't that just make her lose her shit.

She ended up coming to his job and to hear her tell of it, they'd been practically standing at the altar when he knocked her up and left her high and dry. It grated him having to clarify matters with his bosses and share private personal information to combat her lies, but Tony learned a heavy lesson from the whole situation. At least she never found out about his real place, only ever having been to the bachelor pad. He hadn't wanted the kids exposed to anything like that, hence the secrecy in the first place.

After the back ground check she'd tried to get flagged several agency alerts, she'd been brought into a meeting with the land shark of a lawyer Huxley had arranged for a Come to Jesus meeting that left her pale and quiet as she left, never showing herself in front of Tony again.

It also made him realize the red flags he'd been ignoring. He'd been lonely, the possibility of never finding a guide or bonding in his lifetime had been looming over him. With the loss of the Mancusos and how intense his relationship with Alessio had been, settling down had been on his mind for a long time. Wendy had seemed fine at first, the potential for something more had been there and if not for her detour off the fucking rails, he would have tried for something more.

He spent the weekend on Mike Stoker's back porch, hard lemonade in hand as he tried to understand the decisions he'd made involving Wendy. Maybe he'd been pussy blind, which was fucked up. Maybe she'd reminded him of his mother… which was even more fucked up. Mike just ended up tossing him to the kids who kept him too busy to wallow in regret.

First Claire, Mags, then Alona and now Wendy, his mommy issues seemed to by piling up. He took a few days off and flew to see Steve. He needed a face to face talk if he was going to open the can of worms that was his relationship with his mother. It wasn't that he wanted to burden the other man with his trauma dumping but he knew that Steve would understand after everything with his own mom.

Thankfully Steve had the long weekend off, even if Tony had to fly down to Mexico where the ship was docked. He was right though, Steve understood completely and listened as Tony talked over Mexican beer and delicious street food about the rose-coloured glasses he'd seemed to put on when thinking about Claire.

She'd been a drunk. A functioning alcoholic who'd seen him as more of a friend than a son sometimes. She'd scared him with vampires for fun when he was too young and gave him a life long phobia of ornate canopy beds. She'd dressed him up like a doll, putting his in the most ridiculous of outfits and parading him around for guests. Of course he couldn't make a noise because good children are seen and not heard. He'd had to learn English for pre-school because he'd been raised by staff for his first few formative  years. Or that time she was so drunk, she mistook his sea monkeys for a gin and tonic and chugged the whole thing.

The worst thing was… she'd tried to kill them both by driving drunk right off a fucking bridge and into a river.

Was it an accident? Was it suicide? Did she care that she was three sheets to the wind behind the wheel? Was she going so fast so as not to miss the movie? Did she even remember he was there too? Tony didn't know. He'd never wanted to look to close. Never wanted to think too hard on it. He headed back to Baltimore with no real answers, just feeling lighter for being listened too. Maybe he needed to find a therapist to sort that quagmire out but it would wait for another day.

Finding out that his partner was dirty was another blow he hadn't seen coming, his sentinel sent reeling because he'd really trusted Danny. He'd trusted his partner. He knew liars, he knew confidence men, con artists and scammers. He'd grown up with Senior after all. He'd seen, met and arrested all kinds of scumbags, seen the worst of humanity. He'd just always trusted his own instincts, investigated, verified and kept at distance until proven worthy.

But Danny had gotten passed all of his fail safes, he'd mentored Tony as a new Detective, gave him advice on life and fashion, stood at his back as Tony found his stride in the precinct and in the city as a whole. He'd truly believed he'd broken the two year curse that seemed to haunt his previous jobs. His loyalty to his partner warred with his feeling of betrayal from the man's actions and lies, and in the end all he could do was walk away from it all, the truth stuck in his throat, hard and bitter.

He fled to Hawai'i, feeling like a heel for all but running away from another life but John was soon able to set him straight, bringing home several hard truths about what running away really looked like. 

Their relationship had healed in the years since John's hell or high water days, talking was easier , trust and communication much better. They'd forgiven each other. Now John was the one having to talk Tony through a tough situation he couldn't see a way out of.

In every situation in the past Tony stayed and tried his best, long after he should have, long after anyone else would have given up. And he always ended up breaking his own heart. But that's what they all loved about him… his compassion. His big heart.

"Its ok to let go of something burning you… " John had spoken softly as they sat on the warm sand, the waves crashing rhythmically in the background. "… it's ok to stop making a mistake because you’ve been making it long enough. Your core of justice and loyalty is who you are, Tones. No matter how things shake out, we wouldn't have it any other way. No matter what face you show the world. "

His hand on the back of Tony's neck was a touchstone. An all too familiar comfort of years past. It took him another month of just swimming and surfing to get his mind wrapped around a decision and he headed back to Baltimore to say good bye in person. The kids were sad to see him go but he was looking forward to the offer the crazy silver haired navy cop had offered him months before.

Stepping into the orange bull pen was a shock, so was the head slap, but it did knock the last of his doubts loose and solidified his choice to join NCIS; his calling as an officer for justice solid as ever. Though Tony was still angry at the blatant physical assault, it had been enough to break him of the spiral and he did appreciate it. He wouldn't tolerate a repeat though. Not a fucking chance. 

"Boy, I've got vision and the world's wearing bifocals"

He let himself laugh at the parting Butch Cassidy quote and then, taking a deep breath, entered the HR department; determined to get himself sorted out and back in the upholding justice business as soon as he was able.

Chapter Text

FLETC was as he expected and he spent his free time in between classes and qualifications to find an apartment in a secure building and get his car, bike and plane shipped to DC. Huxley came through as usual to over see the packing of his Baltimore apartments as well as execute the renovations and extra security measures. The man also opened up the estate's DC property in preparation for either Tony's or Lawrence's needs and arranged for a weekly cleaning service.

They had the piano shipped to the house from the climate controlled storage Sifu had organized so long ago. Tony finally ready to have it close to him once more. It had taken time to get himself emotionally ready to deal with everything tangled up with the piano and it felt like catharsis to visit the house and spend a quiet day cleaning and servicing the instrument properly. He ended up playing a few songs, letting himself work through the memories, the emotions and the tears; no longer restricted by Senior's orders or his own reluctance and painful memories. The notes were as sweet and sibilant as he'd remembered and he vowed to come out more often to play it.   

He reached out to Gunner as soon as he was back in DC and they made plans to get together when they both had free time and their schedules worked out. Wishful thinking, yes, but friendships took work and he cherished the ones he'd built over the years.  Sikes came up to help with the house warming and unpacking, bring his manic energy and mom's baking. They spent the weekend organizing his books and movies, breaking in his brand new kitchen with way too much food and crashing on his enormous couch.

The building was a newer one with an Army Vet door man, indoor pool, gym, working elevator and a private garage spots for his car and his bike. He didn't buy it though, his financial advisor had suggested waiting as the market wasn't in a good place but he would keep an eye out for good investment options. He did ask Huxley to procure a cheap bolt hole place for emergencies and undercover along with an older but reliable car. One never knew what the future held. Reporting to the Navy Yard made him wince at the orange wall/ bright skylight arrangement but he figured he'd get used to it eventually.

As Supervisory Special Agent in charge of the Major Case Response Team, former marine and  Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs was a dormant Sentinel but he didn't let it keep him back. He was a hell of an investigator and Tony learned so much about investigative work and non linear thinking, federal procedure and protocol from the man. Gibbs was dogged, dedicated and determined in his calling yet seemed allergic to inter-agency cooperation, set on proving the old adage 'Second B is for Bastard' so Tony deftly took over the liaison role in the two man team; smoothing the other man's rough edges and sharp angles when it came to dealing with the public, the press and other agencies.

The boss was Tom Morrow, calm and capable with a sharp sense of humour and a strong sense of duty to his agency and the agents that made it up. The Medical Examiner, Donald 'Ducky' Mallard was a real trip and Tony often found himself passing by Autopsy for a cup of hot tea and a story that never failed to inform or entertain. The ME's assistant Gerald, was cheerful and loved basketball as much as Tony did and introduced him to the ongoing pick up games at the local YMCA. He also loved rock climbing and promised to take Tony out to one of the easier climbs if he was ever interested. Tony totally was and enjoyed the activity the first weekend there wasn't a pressing case.

Abigail Scuito was a different story. Two months in and she still hadn't warmed to Tony. Gibbs had told him to take his time as Scuito didn't like change in the team dynamic and that it would take proving himself through his actions to get through to her. He didn't mind as he was a patient man and knew that some people look a while to open themselves up to others. Besides, all the careful and steady work would make her eventual friendship all the more worth it.

Expanding his network to other agents in the bull pen, Balboa and his team, Pacci and others, support staff, Delores in HR, Morrow's admin Cynthia, the MTAC techs, the guys in Cyber, the bag bunnies down in evidence, the mechanics, security and even Christine in records and archives; he would remember names, faces, birthdays, families and favourite baked goods, always gathering info and cataloguing for later use. He made friends with the quartermaster, the guys on the gun range and whoever he faced on the training mats.

He went over his list of duties and stream lined them to the best of his abilities. "Work smarter not harder." was still his mantra.  He learned to pack and constantly refresh a 'go bag' which he kept tucked away, a small coffee maker to the back of his cubicle and a snack basket in the bottom draw of his filing cabinet.

He called up Gibb's former partner, Stan Burley, and gets the low down on the situation with the MCRT, offering to buy the man dinner instead of drinks as he was still nursing a Gibbs induced ulcer. They just managed to meet up before Stan shipped out as Agent Afloat and they agreed to keep in touch by email as Stan, though wound a little tight, was a cool enough guy and Tony liked him. He was also a wealth of information as he'd been a Senator's aid before working for Gibbs.

He refused to do Gibb's paperwork though, meeting the man's glare squarely before kicking the file back to his desk with a flat stare of his own. "If you want a secretary, hire one."

It took a few times to the older man to back down but Tony could out-stubborn any old cuss when he put his mind to it. He also left a steaming cup of tar on the man's desk first thing in the morning as sort of bribe/consolation for his blunt yet justified refusal. It always helped to make nice with the boss when he could.

He kept his reports up to date online as well on paper as Gibbs liked hard copy and added Gibb's "Rules" in a list in his drawer whenever the silver haired man dropped a new one. He espcially like number nine: "Always carry a knife" and got a kick out of showing his boss the ones he always carried on him. The marine in Gibbs couldn't resist and they found themselves frequently on the training mats down in the gym, Gibbs testing his Krav Maga against Tony's Sanda/Aikido/Kickboxing mix that had both of them on the floor much more than either of them liked to admit.

The cases were varied and interesting, he got to travel and the work was fulfilling. So, as he started finding his stride at NCIS and life in DC, Tony turned his attention towards furthering his education. He'd began a Masters in Criminal Justice/Criminology after Philly, so it was just a matter of taking things back up from his break. He also started brushing up on the cyber security he learned with MI6, contacting Eddie for any possible online classes of that calibre. His cousin came through as always, even sending him extra small projects to keep his skills current. Sending things down to the NCIS Cyber Division was often frustrating when cases backed up and an impatient Gibbs was no one's friend, so Tony just learned how to run the computer checks himself.

He ran into some problems with certain protocols being side stepped or worked around and made notes to get things straightened out before they were sent to JAG. He hated when convictions fell apart in court because of some fuck up during investigation. Even though Gibbs was a bit of a hot shot, he usually reigned it in when Tony kicked a fuss and threatened to have him answer all of JAG's concerns… alone.

The first time he'd invited himself over to Gibbs house, he'd hn'd at the unlocked door and blinked at the boat skeleton in the basement. He lifted one hand at a surprised looking Gibbs "I brought beer…" then the other "... and the good coffee." then traipsed back up the stairs. The kitchen was a sad sight and he poked at the ancient looking coffee machine for a bit before starting a fresh pot.

"I figured you like the kind of joe that strips paint and the guy at the coffee place said that this brand was sure to burn a hole in your stomach." he said over his shoulder as he placed the six pack in the almost empty fridge. He sighed. He was going to have to do a grocery run. He checked the freezer. Yeah, definitely.

Gibbs leaned against the doorway, wiping his hands with a dirty cloth. "Any reason you're at my house, Dinozzo?"

"We're partners, I'm going to be around more " Tony inspected the rest of the cupboards with a frown,  "… in case we have to do work shit out of the office. I really don't see you coming over to mine for that."

He turned to face the silver haired man. "Would you consider coming over to my house to do work shit?"

"Not a chance."

Tony shrugged as if it was a given. "You're probably a 'work on your boat and drink while you think' guy so I'm just making sure things are up to par if I'm gonna be here more often."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "You think you're going to be here more often?"

"Yeah, if you want me to cook for you, I will." Tony glanced through the cutlery drawers and idly inspected the K-bar he found before putting it back in place. "You can't live on coffee alone, boss and I have my best ideas when I'm in the kitchen. "

Gibbs just chuckled and poured himself a cup of freshly made 'stomach burn a hole' coffee.

He brought a better coffee maker and his own brand the next time he came, setting it up across from Gibb's old junker; the milk and creamer claiming space in the fridge door. He liked his stomach lining, thanks. He followed that with a slow cooker, a set of good knives and a pasta press. Nothing too expensive, or too much because Gibbs didn’t lock his door after all.

They solved cases and worked together. Tony made pasta and tomato sauce from scratch and Gibbs grilled cowboy steaks. Gibbs sanded his boat and drank bourbon. Tony meditated and watched him sand his boat and brought his own liquor. Again, he liked his stomach lining.

Vivian Blackadder joined them from the FBI, serious, by the book and hiding deep grief. She had enough gumption to stand up to Gibbs well enough, but she was inflexible in ways that the older man's style grated on her. Tony took her out for drinks and the usual after work bitch session, learning about her brother's death and the hurt and anger she carried from it.

He could only offer a friendly ear and a buffer between her and Gibbs when things went stiff. Other than that, he couldn't do more than wait for her to wash out and take her out for drinks after. He could see that she wouldn't last long. And she didn't. He ended up paying for a good few rounds at her favourite bar before she moved to the west coast.

Gibbs introduced Tony to his FBI frenemy Fornell, just as old and cantankerous but still likeable enough. Fornell liked to call him DiNutso so Tony called him Fornelli. It was a delicate truce. They did exchange recipes though and Gibb tolerated them both in his kitchen because he got to eat what they whipped up. He'd growled at them both for gaining weight and started running with Tony on weekends.

Tony grew his Dinozzo Network slowly but surely, Seely Booth at the Smithsonian, Morgan at the BAU, the team at JAG, local LEOs and the military through cases, Gunner at the Pentagon and Commandant Walker who'd taken him to several capitol events when he was in town. Tony went to a couple of black tie events, shook a couple of hands at the white house and got a few business cards and looks of interest.

Steve came to visit, bringing Mary along and Tony called Gunner and Sikes out to run around the town. They all got along like a house on fire and it was a week packed with good food and great memories. Steve, laying on the couch that last night, turned to Tony with his beer in hand and huffed.

"Next time it's the Maldives."

Tony just grinned. "Done."

More awesome cases, more classes, more paperwork. Gibbs took Tony out to the gun range with his sniper rifle and put him through his paces. They sometimes joined Ian Edgerton at the range which turned into a kind of sniper-off between both men that had Tony hot under the collar. Oh yeah… hot men with guns. Circling around each other like jungle tigers. Tony was in heaven.

Mary came back for Christmas because Tony was on call. John came with her and he gave them a tour of the office and introduced them to the others. They ended up spending Christmas Eve in the bull pen for the office holiday party where Tony made mulled wine and Italian Christmas cookies and John and Ducky got into an epic anecdote face off that Tony sat rapt in front of.

Morrow made off with most of the mulled wine to a private party in MTAC much to the irritation of the other agents. But what could they do? the man was the Boss after all. Mary ended up falling into conversation with Abby and the two were as thick as thieves by the end of the night. It helped the goth lab tech to warm up to Tony a little bit more and Mary was just as happy to have someone into science and nature conservation as she was.

They had New Years off so Tony flew down to las Vegas to reunite with the Dastardly Six. They rented the penthouse at the Bellagio and had a wild weekend, eating, drinking and gambling way too much. Tony hooked up with a show girl and got his brains fucked out; spending the last two days of leave drying out at Keiko's as she laughed heartily at his pain. She then kicked his ass in the dojo and sent him limping back to DC. No sympathy whatsoever.

They caught a case - dead football carrier on Air Force One and Tony had an immediate headache at the absolute lack of a any kind of common sense rattling around in the brains of anyone on the ground or on the plane. He told both Gibbs and Fornell to fucking quit it, called for the new Air Force One to be immediately grounded, the president secured and every other fucking carbon based life form on the damned plane to be detained as there had been a mysterious death on the first plane that could still prove to be a serious threat to the Commander in Chief.

Gibbs didn't like working with others? Fornell wanted jurisdiction? Todd wanted her own way? Too fucking bad. There was protocol for this and that protocol was what they would fucking follow, come hell or high fucking water. This wasn't a movie and the president wasn't Harrison fucking Ford.

Turned out a pissed off sentinel, even a level two, was enough to shake some sense into people and light a fire under their asses at the same time. Discovering and stopping the assassination attempt made his sentinel spirit feel vindicated and the letter of thanks from the big man himself was framed and displayed proudly on Tony's shelf.

Tony sometimes wondered if Gibbs' hired Caitlin Todd with his dick but he would give her the same odds he gave Vivian. He stood his ground about sending her to FLETC despite her claims of Secret Service experience and profiling skills. He got a copy of her personnel file and ripped her so called experience apart in a conference meeting room with Gibbs in attendance. Silence from the both of them proved his point and Todd was promptly shipped off to FLETC.

Tony had another meeting with Gibbs, this time in Gibbs' so called 'office', about Tony's role on the team and what it would mean to be Gibbs Senior Field Agent, Cait's training and the chain of command. Some of Tony's RIMA experience started coming out in response to Gibbs trying to bring his Gunnery Sargeant persona to win the argument, and they spent the next week at odds before finally taking it out on the mats. Tony had come out of that week bruised but on a better standing with his boss.

Cait came back from training still with some hang ups and a chip on her shoulder about gender roles but Tony countered her every claim of sexism with a brutal breakdown of the situation and a blank form to fill out for HR if she wanted to pursue the matter. He criticized her wardrobe and shoe choices and made her go home to get changed, even if it made her late for a case which pissed Gibb off. He also trained her in procedure and protocol, answering her questions patiently and showing her easy alternatives and short cuts to keep ahead of Gibbs' temper.

She was still too arrogant, close minded in her beliefs, espcially religious ones, but she had potential and Tony could work with that. The most important thing was that he had Gibbs backing him up whenever Cait tried to whine about her treatment. When that didn't work, she took to sniping at Tony's personal life and cavalier ways.

Tony just signed her up for the Public Agency Training Council (PATC) course on Investigative Statement Analysis or Implicit/Explicit Bias Identification. and told her that after the 12 hour module, she'd be finally telling the truth about profiling on her resume and maybe wouldn't let how she was raised colour how she saw the world so deeply. She did fill out an HR form for that but Morrow backed him up and sent her on the course after her poor first quarterly evaluation.

Tony also sent Cait as TAD to some of the female led teams within NCIS, to give her some experience with the excellent female agents within the organization and how they handled themselves, their teams  and their work. It took some time and a few home truths but Cait was beginning to shape up into a competent agent. She had the intuition an investigator needed and that was something that couldn't be taught. It would just take a little spit and polish but Tony had hope. She had better odds than Vivian. Time would tell.

He took her, Abby and Gerald out for drinks after work and cooked them dinner at his apartment. Abby had turned into a good friend after her friendship with Mary blossomed and her quirky fellow female perspective was the perfect thing to bridge the final gap with Cait. He could see the gears turning in their heads as they explored his apartment. Gerald was helping in the kitchen as he'd been to Tony's place many times after their climbing weekends. The man was easy going, intelligent and great in bed, happy with the casual friends with benefits arrangement they had.

After that Cait was much more open to Tony's teaching and they steadily worked on her physical and self defense skills. He got her simple yet sturdy flip knife to keep in her belt and recommended she get another for her bra. She'd huffed and slapped him softly on the arm but got one anyway. It helped her more than once in tight spots and she got him a bottle of fancy coffee creamer for his office stash and a few new snacks to add to his snack drawer in thanks.

Mike and family came to visit over summer vacation and Tony took a week off to show them around and take them all the cool and fun places he'd researched and discovered for their visit. They stayed at the house as his apartment was way too small and though it added to his commute during the extra week they stayed on, it was worth the extra drive time.

He took them to visit the office, the kids in awe at the bull pen while both Mike and Hank made eyes at the orange nightmare. He invited the team out to the house for a barbeque, just telling them that Mike had rented it for the break. He wasn't ready to tell them about his family just yet. Gibbs helped Hank with the grilling while Cait, Mike and Gerald helped Tony with sides. Abby got along well with Jason and Kimberly and got pulled along with them into Ducky's inescapable orbit of wild tales and awesome historical anecdotes. It was a good day that Tony kept close to his heart.

Tony ended up liking McGee, after all was said and done. He had the same potential as Cait and he had the skills in computer that the team needed as the cases got heavier into cyber crime. There was an issue though and Tony brought it up with Gibbs over cowboy steaks.

"We need another agent for the team. Two in fact. I want to bring McGee in to take over the cyber stuff but that would leave Cait hanging. I can't train them both."

He rolled his eyes at Gibbs' constipated look.

"Look, the MCRT is no place for probies and should actually be around six experienced agents strong but I know that your head would explode if we tried to do that so you have to work with me here. I heard Pacci's old probie is looking to leave narcotics at Norfolk and she knows enough about you so her still saying yes is a good thing."

He hummed as he cut another piece of steak. 

"She can take over with Cait, a more experienced female agent who has a good head on her shoulders and I get McGee who can work his computer magic. This way we don't all burnout trying to keep up with you."

"Sounds like you already made the decision." The silver haired man grumped as he slapped the steaks unto plates. Tony just grabbed his and dug in. He was starved.

"Talked it through with Morrow. Had to if I wanted to approach Yates." he huffed at Gibbs' epic scowl. "Hey, you lead the team. I manage the team and keep it functional for you. That's the agreement. You want to take over Cait's training? Or learn how to slog through financial records? or CCTV camera footage? Didn't think so. We need a McGee and at least this one comes with the potential to become a good investigator. The time for that kind of investment is now. Train them up good and teach them the rules while their still new."

Tony looked up at his boss, meeting those ice blue eyes glinting with something like approval and grinned; diving back into his steak. Cassie folded into the team with a few bumps but soon enough she's bonding with Cait and meeting Gibbs toe to toe when he got too stubborn. She also brought along her experience with narcotics, vice, smuggling and under cover and was a good partner to Tony in the field. 

Tony saw that same raw talent that Cait showed in Tim as well but instead of being too proud of himself, Tim had a deep self esteem problem rooted in his upbringing. Since he was brave enough to get tatted just to date Abby, Tony would give him the benefit of the doubt. He would need a different style than he'd used with Cait though as she had already a fire blazing inside her. He just needed to stoke that same blaze in McGee.

He had to balance between respect and expectation. Don't coddle him but don't belittle him either. Show Tim that he had what it took within him without breaking him down first. Tony's time at RIMA was really paying dividends as he took Tim in hand. 

“You got here for a reason. My job isn’t to hold your hand… my job is to make sure you’re the kind of guy I’d trust to watch my six. That starts now.”

They went over recent cases, Tony guiding Tim through procedures and decisions made while Tim would make notes and ask questions. He would show him things in situ, either on the field or in the bull pen; engaging him with pointed questions and answering his with thought exercises. When Tim fumbled or made mistakes, Tony would pull him aside if there was time or wait until later to review the case and what Tim thought went wrong.

“You hesitate. You second-guess. That’ll get someone killed out there. So let’s fix it… grab a report and we'll go through scenarios.”

He took Tim to the mats and put him down hard. Then he offered him a hand, pulled him to his feet and went over what they just did. There was no way Tony was going out with someone who couldn't handle themselves or have his six. It was tough and he faced Tim's anger but he then helped the agent turn that anger into something to be reckoned with.

"Mastery… not force." he said yet again as Tim dragged himself to his feet. "Take that anger… that anxiety… that insecurity… that fear and make it work for you, not against you. Don’t just lash out wildly. Learn to operate through it, learnt to use it to drive you."

"How?" Tim's breath was ragged as he leaned against his bent knees. His back bowed, his head low.

Tony extended his hand. "I'll show you."

He challenged him, physically and mentally, he pushed him just a bit further each time. He gave him a sturdy fixed knife because Tim needed that steady support and taught him how to use it quick and dirty. He took him to the gun range and got him familiar with the weapons he'd only learned about in online. Then taught him the basics of Aikido and encouraged him to keep training privately. He also got him into yoga and meditation though he could tell the younger man didn't take that part too seriously. Tony had just shrugged and let it be.

He encouraged Tim to keep improving his skill and not rest to soon on his laurels.  He then kicked his ass in cyberspace and brought that nerdy arrogance down a notch with the skills he'd learned with MI6. Seeing Tim's shocked face was worth it and he'd made sure to drag the man out for drinks after to sooth the embarrassment of his own assumptions.

They made a tight team, the five of them; and their solve rate showed how well oiled the machine was. Morrow commended them, proud of his people and his agency. Between Gibbs' and Balboa's team along with Pacci's small cold case division, there were few cases that slipped through the cracks at NCIS HQ.

Tony took Steve on and epic surf world tour. Three weeks. Five countries. Epic waves. Two guys. One plane. It was the best thing Tony had ever done and Steve was of the same mind. They came back tanned, tired and totally high on life and happy with themselves, their families and their jobs. It was amazing.

Chapter Text

Coming back to NCIS brought a few new wrinkles to Tony's high, bringing him down a notch or two as he walked into the bullpen. There was a new AIC - Agent in Charge to over see all the teams and she was a blast from Gibbs' wild past. Jennifer 'Call me Jenny' Shepard was a red head and a former lover - pure Gibbs kryptonite; who seemed to swing between professional with everyone else and flirty with his boss but never to the point where it was obvious except to someone who was observing.

And Tony was observing.

A brief meeting with Tom Morrow brought little explanation so Tony fell into his network for intel. Apparently Jenny had been making major moves up the capitol power ladder when a few personal setbacks had her backing down and seeking refuge at NCIS until other things cooled down. That didn't really bode well when it came to agenda but she was doing a well enough job as AIC for Tony to sit back and watch.

The first time she strode into Gibbs house dressed for a good time and found Gibbs, Tony and Fornell making lasagna made for a hilariously awkward dinner. Tony had almost strained something trying not to laugh as Fornell happily took the bottle of wine she'd arrived with and tried to ply her with garlic bread even though she said she was on a diet. It was all Tony could do to keep his head down and his mouth shut in all the madness and during the week beyond as he tried not to remind Jenny he even existed, lest she turn the Eye of Sauron on his poor little hobbitses.

Talk about wrong bat place, wrong bat time, wrong bat channel.

Life went on and cases didn't pull their punches. Cait thrived under Cassie's mentorship and Tim bloomed into a competent Junior agent. Tony moved the team dinner's to Gibb's house as the man had a better yard for grilling but not too often because the boss still had die hard hermit crab tendencies and Tony was always on the look out for signs of social fatigue.

Tony went clubbing with Abby, took Tim to the pick up basket ball games, he had tea and stories with Ducky and went shooting with Cait. He climbed with Gerald then took him to bed, those weekends were the most enjoyable.

He flew to England for Lawry's engagement and spent the week reacquainting himself with the hoi-polloi. Clive's kids were older and more friendly in their interactions, having decided for themselves that they wanted to get to know Tony for themselves rather than rely on rumour alone. They were an interesting bunch and Tony welcomed their shy overtures. Clive was still standoffish but he didn't stop them from their actions. He spent most of the time with Eddie and his new lover James, hanging out in London and racing fast cars on the track.

His first day back in DC shook him to the core. A letter. A simple white envelope with a red SWAK. His sentinel had practically hissed as he snatched it off the mail cart and flung it to the ground; immediately overturning his bin over it with a low growl.

"Tony?" Gibbs voice seemed far away as Tony kept growling "… Sentinel?"

There were raised voices and as someone reached their foot over to nudge the bin, Tony slammed his hand over the plastic with a loud snarl. He heard Gibbs snapping orders and people hustling away, their voices fading. Gibbs stood still but near enough for Tony's sentinel to acknowledge.

"Sentinel."

Tony swallowed heavily, his throat feeling thick. "Wrong." he managed to ground out. He looked up into ice blue eyes ands shook some of the fog from his head. "Biohazard."

Gibb just nodded and talked into the phone. Thankfully NCIS worked quick and Abby soon came along in a bright yellow hazmat suit and red collection bin. He fell in behind Gibbs as her escort and his sentinel didn't loosen until the lab was secured. Tony slumped against the wall and let himself slide down to sit.

"Never felt anything like that before." he admitted to the older man who'd squatted down beside him. "Feebos don't feel shit strong like that."

There was a gentle tap to the back of his head and Tony snapped his head to glare hotly at this boss.

"We talked about that bullshit…we even made it a fucking rule." he snarled but Gibbs just cocked his head.

"You said in extenuating circumstances if I thought it was worth the ass kicking you'd give me." he shrugged. "Stopping you from calling yourself a Feebo is worth it."

Toy inhaled sharply, warring between enraged and touched. "I will let it go for now. But it's you and me on the mats tomorrow and you better bring your fucking Bengay."

Gibbs just chuckled and helped him to his feet. "I use Tiger Balm."

The envelope turned out to have the Plague. The goddamned Plague. Scourge of Europe and Tony's nightmares for the next few weeks as they tracked  down the asshole who sent it and the case she'd been demanding revenge for. Finding out it had all been a web of lies built on loss and shame made him both furious and heartsick at the same time.

He took himself over to Gibbs' place with a bottle of his good liquor and got drunk as fuck under Gibbs' boat. His back did not thank him the next morning and he vowed to bring a fold away futon because he was not doing that ever fucking again. Maybe Marines enjoyed back pain.

He was washing his hands in the men's room a NCIS when Gerald's heartbeat began to race. He was already moving to stairs to autopsy before he knew it, taking them three at a time as he stretched his hearing to its limit. He could hear Ducky rambling about sailors until his voice stopped abruptly and his heart also started to race. There was a third heartbeat, this one steady and strong and Tony cracked the staircase door just enough to see a sliver into the morgue beyond.

The man, middle eastern, handsome, dressed in black tactical gear, holding both other men at gun point. He'd crawled out of a body bag, and was explaining his 'rules'. He wasn't a sentinel, if he was, he was too low for even Tony to feel but he didn't feel mundane. More like dormant guide. Tony felt nauseous at the thought. Guides were rarely driven dormant, the reasons for such a thing were usually awful to hear about. He eased the door closed and ran back up the stairs.

He let Gibbs in on what was happening in the morgue and sat to make a quick face sketch as his boss began snapping orders. Ten minutes later and he had McGee starting facial recognition as Tony emailed the sketch to MI6 for a big favour. He wasn't a fan of Cait going down to deliver the evidence but it was the best out of a handful of awful ones.

He was in the stairwell when her cover was busted and Gerald was shot in the shoulder as punishment. It made his sentinel furious to hear his lover whimpering in pain. When the SWAT responder said he had no shot, Tony moved him to the side and slipped his NPE Ghost Knife out of his belt sheath. He waved away the man's protest and quoted SAGC Sentinel Protocol to him.

"I can see and recognize an oppurtunity faster than you and can respond quicker. Stick to my six and move when I move and get ready to get the door open the second I say."

The faster Gerald got proper medical care, the better. The 'oppurtunity' came Cait tried to attack the terrorist with her scalpel and they got into a struggle. Tony was up, across the hall and through the doors in seconds, his knife flung into the asshole's neck as Tony vaulted over the autopsy table behind it. The man was still gurgling, a look of shock etched on his face as Tony yanked his head back and pushed the knife across the breadth of his throat, almost decapitating him from the force behind it.

Cait screamed, hot blood splashing all over her face and clothes as Tony rode his body down to the cold floors, pressing the body down with his weight as SWAT swarmed in behind him. He growled low at the approach but managed to release the body and slowly back away to stand against the nearby wall, hands raised, clear and empty; his black blade still in the unsub's bubbling throat. He looked dispassionately at the pool of blood growing bigger under the body then up at the horrified crowd standing frozen.

"I'm going to want that knife back. It's my favourite."

He was put on administrative leave after that episode and was made to visit the local SAGC centre to visit a counsellor. Sentinels at his level were not supposed to go feral like that. It was then that his casual relations with Gerald came to light and everyone was quick to accept that as an explanation and rubber stamped it, all but pushing his "feeble" case out the door by that afternoon. Fucking hypocrites.

He spent his week off flying by private jet to pick up Steve just off the Sri Lankan coast and took him to the Maldives for four days of sun sand, sea and sleep. He had Huxley hire a really fast plane this time, not wanting to spend twenty hours flying himself across two oceans. Some of Steve's SEAL buddies were hanging around on leave as well so he invited them along and spent most of his time watching really hot, really fit men jump off the house's floating patio into crystal blue waters.

He told Steve about the morgue and Gerald, who was now under the best care thanks to Huxley, and spoke about how, unlike with the Mancusos; a reputation for being blood thirsty wasn't something he wanted for Tony Dinozzo. He'd seen the look in Cait's eyes. In Ducky's and Abby's.

Gibbs had understood, being a sentinel once; but the rest of the team were mundanes. Also the man, Ari Aswari, had been a guide. A dormant one, yes, but still a guide and he worried about the repercussions of that, no matter that the man had been actively perpetrating terrorism. Steve could only listen then hand Tony a beer. Then, after waiting patiently for Tony to drain it, he stood and picked his surprised and squawking brother up into his muscular arms and tossed him into the water before jumping in after him.

The rest of the day was spent wearing Tony out with swimming, water fights, snorkeling and jet skiing before plying him with food and beer before pouring him into bed. There was nothing else for it. No real comfort of advice to give. It had to be between Tony and his Sentinel spirit and all the rest of them could do was be there for him as he worked it out. Tony hugged his brother tight before saying goodbye, grateful that the older man always seemed to know what Tony needed when in crisis.

"It's a gift." Steve had smirked. "All big brothers come born with it."

His return to the Navy Yard came with weird, oddly respectful looks and whispered "Stone Cold" in his wake. The team was weird. Everything was weird. Well, except for Gibbs and surprisingly McGee.

"My grandad was a sentinel. My dad too. High level. So I grew up around them. Kind of a dissapointment when I didn't present. Just one more thing to add to the pile."

Tony didn't know what to say to that so he just took McGee out for some sword fighting in the park with a local LARPing group he'd found then took him to his apartment and cooked him a full Italian dinner. Sometimes, that was all you could do. Just be there.

Gerald was happy to see him, his wound already healing and his Doctors and PT's making pleased noises. They had gotten him treatment in enough time to make a full recovery possible, with the right therapy, which Huxley had already taken care of. Within six months to a year, the man would be back to 100%.

"I was thinking of going back to school anyway," Gerald gestured with his good arm. "This just bumped up the timeline."

Sadly, that meant moving back to Minneapolis to be with his father at his funeral home. Tony would miss him. Gerald was funny and smart and had an amazing cock but Tony could only kiss him farewell and had Huxley arrange the best care for the injured man back home. He promised to visit and keep in touch via email and ended up meeting Gerald's dad when the man came to collect his son. He was just as funny and charming and Tony was happy to see the close relationship they shared. Gerald would be in good hands.

Things weren't so easily wrapped up back at NCIS. Even though Internal Affairs had agreed with the SAGC ruling and gave Tony the green light to get back to work, things were not as simple with the team. Cait remained traumatized by the event, even with the help of her shrink sister. She couldn't look Tony in the eye and flinched away when he got near. Abby had reverted back to the early days of their acquaintance, all but ignoring Tony when he was in the room. Her answers to his direct work related questions were stilted and usually one word. Even Ducky seemed shook, his usually plentiful stories turning short and stilted somewhere in the middle when he remembered who he was talking too.

Tony tried not to let it get him down. He really did. But it was hard seeing his friends pull away from him so blatantly. Still, he couldn't just demand they get over something like that. They didn't have his sentinel spirit to just shunt the trauma aside. He was protecting his tribe. He was protecting his lover. He was totally justified in taking down a dangerous wanted terrorist in the middle of an active hostage situation with a medical emergency. He'd gotten in there and eliminated the threat within seconds, not giving the man a chance to hurt Cait or anyone else.

He was just wondering if it was time to put in for a transfer when Fornell stepped out of the elevator with a scowl. Tony just glanced at Gibbs then back at the FBI agent striding towards him.

"You really know how to put your foot in it, don't you, DiNutso?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Good Day to you too, Fornelli."

The older man just huffed and turned to Gibbs. "I need to brief you on some serious shit rolling your way. We need a real conference room, not your 'office'… " he turned back to Tony and gave his shiny little coffee maker a greedy eye fucking. "… And bring me a good cuppa… you know the way I like it."

Tony just hummed and turned to make a new mug while Gibbs took Fornell to a conference room. As it brewed, he quickly tapped into the room's security feed and hijacked it, saving the video and audio to his phone instead of the NCIS server. He set a loop of an empty room in its place and took both mugs with him after waving away Tim's look of concern. The second cup was for Gibbs and even though it wasn't 'burn a hole' brand, it was better to give the man caffeine than not.

The news was worse than he thought it would be.

"Aswari is Eli David's son. Head of Moussad. They were estranged and the boy had daddy issues a mile wide but blood is still blood and he's going to use this to squeeze as much as he can out of the US government. He also wants your head on a pike but he can forget that because the SAGC already ruled your actions as Justified and even he has to respect a sentinel's instinctual response." Fornell sipped his cup and made a pleased sound.

"I'm hearing a big old 'but' here." Gibb sipped his own cup, growled and gave Tony a weak glare, then took another sip. "Is he going to send Kidon after Tony or something?"

"No. He wants to shoehorn a Moussad liaison into NCIS. Ari's former handler,"

Tony scoffed. "As what? Counter terrorism?"

"Fornell made a face "No. MCRT."

There was a beat of stupefied silence before Gibbs spoke.. no… growled.. "What?"

Tony just made a noise like a deflated balloon and wished for his own cup of coffee to hold on to.

Fornell chuckled darkly. "Yeah, and it gets better. She's Ari's half sister.  Ziva David."

"You have to be kidding me." Tony uttered flatly. "Who the fuck would go for that?"

Fornell's face did some kind of acrobatics as he tried not to catch Gibb's eye. "Jenny's pulling real hard for it. "

Tony massaged his forehead with a pained expression. "She wouldn’t be able to do anyhting. She can't drive the vehicle. She can't collect or even touch the evidence. She can't interview witness or collect statements. She can't even get security clearance to do background checks or desk work here at the office while we run around. Is she supposed to just play minesweeper for eight hours a day?"

Tony bit his lip to stop himself from rambling. "She's not even a US citizen. If she fucks up, can we even discipline her?"

"That’s for Morrow to handle." Fornell drained his mug. "There's pressure from SECNAV to make it happen as well."

Tony slumped back in his chair. "Jesu Christu."

Gibbs escorted his friend out, no doubt to have a private convo in his 'office' much to Fornell's ire but Tony had no time to care about them. He'd seen the look of doubt on Gibbs' face when Jenny had been mentioned and that usually meant he was going to rush off and do his lone wolf shtick. 'Handle it in house', the older man liked to say, and the crazy plan usually worked but not always to Tony's liking.

Tony, on the other hand, knew how and who to ask for help. Mastery -  not force.

He settled Tim with some vague reassurances and a promise to talk the next day, then sent him home for the day. Cassie was at Quantico helping the BAU on a case and Cait had been temporarily sent to Paula Cassidy's team for some extra training. She'd tried to explain it away as wanting to expand her experience but Tony had seen it for what it was. She hadn't been able to handle Tony's actions in the morgue and still couldn't handle it. She would be leaving the team, which made him sad as she'd been a good friend but he'd rather have her with another team that trying to stay somewhere that still haunted her.

Gibbs' car was gone by the time he made it down to the garage so he was already off on his new self appointed mission. Tony turned his mustang towards his apartment and changed before heading out on his bike to the house. He had a secure set up there where he did for Eddie on the side. It was there that he called up his cousin and was soon looking at his sleep creased face.

"Sorry for waking you." Tony smiled sheepishly. "I didn't think to about the time difference."

"It's fine cuz, " the other man yawned and scratched at his stubbled chin. "Been working crazy hours lately. Catching sleep when I can."

"Have anything to do with the cabinet minister's missing daughter?"

Eddie gave him a sharp look. "Been sneaking have you?"

Tony spun idly in his chair and shrugged. "No. Just keeping up with foreign news. There's a lot there if you know where to look. You taught me that."

"I did, didn't i?" Eddie hummed, "So what do I owe this unexpected call? You don't often do video calls like this."

Tony sighed, sent the footage from the conference room, and explained what he been able to gather since Fornell's abrupt visit. As he spoke he could see his cousin's face go from sleepy to surprised to concerned to dangerously blank.

"I… see. Hold please." were his only words when Tony wrapped it all up, his big brown eyes already on his own laptop screen. After a few minutes of heavy silence, he turned back to look at Tony and nodded. "Keep your head down. I'll be in touch." the screen went blank and Tony felt a mix of relief and trepidation.

Eddie was a Q, his lover was a 007. Together they'd toppled governments and brought dynasties to their knees. If anyone could handle Moussad and the David Family, it would be them.  Tony spent the rest of the evening calling his family and chatting with them as he cooked. The familiar motions were a comfort and the company kept him settled and relaxed.

He met Tim for an early coffee the next morning and sat them both down on a park bench as he went over once more what he'd learned during and after Fornell's visit. Tim was as flabbergasted as he'd been but promised to keep his head down as both Tony and Gibbs were already on it, each in their own way. Tone even made him pinkie swear though Tim had balked at such a childish gesture, he soon sobered up at the look on Tony's face. Whatever this rancid can of worms was when opened, he didn't want it splashing up on his team as well.

He set Tim on finishing up his reports and doing busy work as it was just the two of them in the bullpen, an empty cup of coffee on Gibb's desk the only sign he'd been in and out already. Tony tried to concentrate on his own reports, wondering if he would need to start either brushing up on his resume or getting his dual citizen ship polished up.

It was mid morning when the elevator dinged innocently and the Four Horsemen of the fucking Apocalypse stepped out into the bullpen. Tony tried not to gape as Secretary of State Elizabeth McCord strode towards the stairs going up to Morrow's office followed by a frowning SECNAV, the Assistant Director of Interpol and the Director of the fucking CIA.

A quiet "Holy Shit" floated in from the bullpen and Tony exchanged stunned looks with Balboa who'd stood from his chair to stare after the small parade. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and dialed Gibbs, wincing as the white generators in Morrow's office switched on to full strength.

"What?" it was his usual gruff greeting.

Tony shook his head even though Gibbs couldn't see him. "Boss, you need to get back here."

"Dinozzo, I'm busy."

Tony exhaled sharply, his voice going low. "No Boss, you NEED to get back here. Right now."

There was few long moments of silence where all Tony could hear was faint traffic noises then...

"I'll be there in ten."

Somehow Gibbs either had been with Jenny or met her in the elevator because they arrived together, Gibbs' face dark and stormy while Jenny looked pale as she made her way to the stairs, not greeting or even seeming to see anyone else. Apparently she'd been summoned from on high. She looked like a woman walking towards the gallows.

The bullpen was still quiet as a grave yard, people not speaking above a whisper and walking as if on eggshells as the meeting upstairs went on and on. Tony had to send a fidgety Tim down to Abby before Gibb bit his head off, instructing him to stay there until called for. He also called Ducky to have him either keep himself and Jimmy safe in his basement or up at Abby's.

Gibbs sat like a sphinx as his desk, staring up at Morrow's door as if his x-ray vision would jut manifest if he stared hard enough. Tony just kept his head down and brewed cup after cup of tar in his fancy little machine. He ordered sandwiches for lunch and coaxed his boss into eating by calling on his marine mindset that 'to eat was to be ready'. Time dragged into the afternoon and just before Gibbs looked like Mount Vesuvius ready to fuck up everyone in Pompeii's day, the door upstairs opened.

McCord strode out, Interpol and the CIA following her with blank faces. Then, to the surprise of all and sheer disbelief from Gibbs, Morrow snapped the door shut once more. Tony caught the first few words of SECNAV losing his shit before the white noise activated once more and Tony sat back into his seat, pale and shaking. Gibbs looked apoplectic and he ground out a "going for coffee" before storming out of the building.

Balboa and Pacci seemed to materialize before him, Pacci grabbing Tim's chair as Rick sat on the edge of Tony's desk. Both men seemed to have a million questions in their eyes so Tony just handed over the file he'd compiled and let them read. He wasn't about to talk shit out loud where random sentinels could hear. Both men's eyebrows crawled into their hairlines as they read, their eye bulging like cartoon characters. Tony bit off a hysterical laugh. He didn't want any more attention thanks. 

He made his way down to Abby's and found all four team members huddled around a monitor. With Abby's security measures in place and her own white noise generators activated, Tony told them what he could of the situation and joined in the group speculation of what this all meant for Jenny, the Davids, Gibbs and Tony himself.

The aftermath of the 'Epic Clusterfuck from Hell' had huge repercussions that reached its spindly fingers of devastation into so many lives. International attention fell hard on Eli David, his triple agent son and his potential spy daughter. The man already had enemies and this was the final bit of rope they needed to hand him high. Jenny turned out to be terminally ill and had been leveraging info from David to go on a vengeance kick over the man who she believed killed her father and was encroaching on a deep cover CIA op to do it.

That led to her having blackmail on SECNAV and truly fucked up Manchurian Candidate Black Ops programme he'd been running on American soldiers on international soil. His goose was already cooked and he was just scrambling not to be thrown in a deep dark hole somewhere. That led to the NCIS Assistant Director Leon Vance whose idea the shadow soldier programme had originally been. As it was, he would have gotten a slap on the wrist because it had just been an idea, but a deeper dig into his past had brought up a case of stolen identity that had him living another man's life. That had gotten him more than just a slap.

Even Ziva hadn't escaped as she was found to be fostering a illegal Kidon agent at her apartment. ICE had just gone to escort her to the plane taking her back to Israel when they ran into a guy named Rivkin and a shoot out had ensued. It ended with Rivkin shot into swiss cheese and three ICE agents in hospital. Thankfully none dead.

Ziva had been said to be beside herself to see her lover dead and had to be restrained for her ride to the airfield. Moussad's new director, having come straight from getting his ass reamed at the white house, just looked at the struggling young woman dispassionately and gestured for his men to heft her onto the plane like luggage.

They sent Jenny to a military hospital for 'end of life care' which was basically 'stay here until you get really sick and die but it's not a ten by ten prison cell so be fucking grateful' because of politics and everything was mostly swept under the rug. Gibbs was mad about it for a long time, mostly because he'd hadn't even gotten a chance to do or fix anything his way and it made him grumpier than a bear with a hurt paw for a long fucking time.

He tried pouring himself into work, running himself an the team ragged until Tony had called a time out, sent everyone home for the long weekend and shoved an adopted dog into the man's shocked arms. As Gibbs stared down at the squirming puppy in his hands, Tony stalked passed him into the house to drop his shopping bags and grab a cold beer from the fridge.

"Since you won't see a therapist and sex with the pre-requisite red head doesn't seem to be working… take the dog and tell it your troubles because if you keep going like this...  I am is going to kill you in your sleep, Abby will dispose of the body and Tim will make it so it looks like you're still alive and sailing around the world on your boat."

He started to unpack the doggie things he'd bought and the vet's papers while Gibbs was still standing in the hallway, gazing at the animal in his hands.

"A puppy though?"

Tony shrugged. "I was going to get you a cat but puppies need more attention and you need to turn your hypervigilance on something other than our cases. Seriously, I will set fire to your fucking boat and this house with it if you keep us going like you've done for the past month. I haven't seen my apartment in day time for the last two weeks!"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you get violent when you're angry?" Gibb was holding the puppy on his chest like a baby, the wriggly thing licking a cowlick into his silver hair. It was both disgusting and adorable.

"Yes. All the time." Tony retorted flatly. He held out a collar and leash. "Go take him for a walk and I'll have dinner ready by the time you come back."

Gibb huffed and took the leash. "Hn. Bossy much?"

"I hear that all the time too." Tony shouted after him.

Cait got a permanent transfer to Norfolk. Tony wished her the best. Cassie got the promotion and sweet placement she'd been holding out for, leaving them two down with only three MCRT members left. Tim was making great strides as an agent but they were still short of feet on the ground. Tony talked it over with Gibbs and the older man agreed to two new agents, an expereinced field agent to take on some of the heavy lifting and a new probie as it seemed that they were two for two in turning green horns into functioning agents. They decided to leave it until after he returned from Noble's wedding as both he and Gratham were joint best men and he left Gibb's place with a fridge stocked full of Tupperware and a scheduled online delivery for puppy chow.

Noble's family lived on the north island in New Zealand and Tony arranged for the Dastardly Six and their plus ones to meet and travel together on a private plane, saving on time and cost as they were travelling almost across the entire planet. It showed how dedicated the Noble's family had been when they showed up to help him into his dorm that first day of college. Noble was also the first to get married, his girl friend an incredible woman Tony had met at the last reunion. There was some new faces on the plane but a couple of the ladies were turning out to be keepers. Samuel's girlfriend Tara and Seth's boyfriend Dan had staying power and meshed with the friend group well.

Stevie B's constant carousel of lovers had a girl named Sunny currently on the roster, and even though she was beautiful, blonde and bubbly, Tony could see the sharp intelligence in her eyes. Cody's date, a more mature woman named Beth was a bit held back but she was polite enough and Cody seemed gone one her so Tony didn't look too much it. Cody always liked the cougars. Gratham was going stag, like himself as Steve was elbow deep in black ops, and the two were happy as clams to hang together and catch up. Emails were one thing but rambling conversations over drinks were very much missed.

Tony fell in with the aunties, uncles and cousins as soon as they landed and got pulled away from the others before Noble could even hug him hello. The Maori man could only watch in dazed confusion as Tony was brought up on the latest gossip as he sat in the kitchen shelling peas for the next meal. His fiancé Waimarie, which meant good fortune, just laughed and patted him gently on the shoulder before guiding him towards the other men and their dates.

The next week had Tony running around helping Noble and his family get things ready, organizing the bachelor event and learning the Haka they would be performing at the wedding. In Maori culture, best men supported the groom physically, spiritually and emotionally so he dove into logistics and seeing that the dastardly Six were kept entertained while Gratham stayed close to Noble's side.

He made checklists and went over plans with the family, the venues and the vendors. He went over the gifts for the bride's family with mama and papa Noble and helped with bringing in last minute orders from the big island. The groom's send off was a massive community and tribe level Hākari (Feast) which soon grew to include the hen party and her tribe as they were all just having so much fun. Tony had organized fresh seafood, fruits and produce and built Hāngī for Traditional Earth Oven Cooking.

Tribe members did spontaneous hake, sang songs and Tribe elders gave prayers and blessings. Later that night as the fire died down and clean up began, Waimarie had hugged him with happy tears in her eyes.  Even Papa Noble had pulled Tony to his massive frame and lifted him a couple inches off the ground with a loud belly laugh.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and breezy, perfect for the outdoor setting. Tony and Gratham helped Noble get ready, tugging his suit into place and securing the rings, vows and the intricately woven leaf cape and head piece Mama Noble and the aunties had made. The bride looked stunning in her mermaid dress, her own cape and head piece dripping with vibrant flowers. The ceremony was beautiful and more than a few tears were wiped away when the vows were said, Tony included.

The reception was a smaller event than the Hākari with mostly family but it was still a rioting good time with the dining, dancing and special Haka they performed to honour he new couple. Gratham was too shy so Tony stood to give the best man's whaikōrero. He kept it light and uplifting as was custom, ribbing Noble gently about his college years and how lucky for him to have found a partner and soul mate in his lovely wife. He raised his glass at the end, smiling widely at the happy couple.

"Marriage is not just a union of two people—it’s the joining of two whakapapa, two waka, two worlds. So I leave you with this simple whakataukī: “Ko te mea nui, ko te aroha.” (The most important thing is love.) May your journey be filled with laughter, respect, and enough patience to forgive each other when one of you eats the last fry. "

He laughed along with the others then concluded with a serious " Aroha atu, aroha mai. Tautoko atu, tautoko mai. (Give love, receive love. Give support, receive support.) To the bride and groom—kia kaha, kia māia, kia manawanui. (Be strong, be brave, be steadfast.) Kia ora. Ngā mihi. Let’s raise a glass to the newlyweds!"

As the crowed shouted "To the newlyweds!" Tony smiled once more before taking the seat next to Gratham and accepting the half hug the man leaned over to give him as the rest of the Dastardly Six cheered on loudly.

They spent the next few days resting, relaxing and having fun around the north island before flying back to the US. Tony spent at least a half hour being passed from aunty to uncle to cousin for hugs and back slaps. Even the bride's family got into it before Stevie B bravely waded in to extract Tony from the love in. Cody and Beth decided to stay and visit the Big Island so they said their goodbyes and boarded the ferry.

Stevie B and Sunny asked to be dropped off in Paris and Tony chose to get off as well and kip across to see Lawry while the rest of them continued back on to the states. Lawry was happy to see him and Cecily was as radiant as ever. They shared their wedding plans so far and Tony was impressed but it was kind of a given as the two people getting hitched were powerhouses in themselves. The union of their lives and their houses was bound to be epic. He snuck off to Colterstone Keep for a quiet visit with his mom and Mags at the garden before heading home as both Eddie and his lover where in the middle of some super secret national emergency.

He came back to work to find three new agents already chosen for his team and a new Director in office. Tim informed him that Morrow had been moved to Homeland Security, and the replacement was a by the book, ex navy agent Gibbs knew from back in the day.

Lara "Mace" Macy was a former Major with the USMJ Military Police, Former Director of Special Operations and had spent the last few years supervising the entire European Division. She certainly had both the chops and the guns to get NCIS straightened up and flying right. Tony was even more impressed to see Gibbs being respectful. That good impression dived abruptly when he learned exactly why those particular agents had been chosen for MCRT.

"Fucking spies?" he mumbled around steak, his next bite hanging on his fork, juice dripping back unto his plate. Gibbs just nodded silently as he worked his way steadily through his own dinner. Tony sat back on the couch with a deep sigh. "Well… shit."

Chapter Text

Tony spent the weekend going over the files of the potential spies with Gibbs. The DOJ had done their homework and Gibbs had good insight from the short time he'd spent with his new team. Along with Macy, the three of them were the only ones to be read in on the op within NICS; Tony would be handling the cyber stuff McGee was usually tapped for. It was not that they didn't trust the junior agent but word had come from on high that the less people who knew about it the better.

The first week back was spent catching up on paperwork and seeing to the proper onboarding of the new team members. Physical fitness clearance, weapons clearance, HR paperwork filled out to Delores Broomstead's exacting standards. Desk assignment, logistics, one on one meetings and getting to know you team ice breakers. Tony took the time to observe and evaluate each new member, keeping secure notes on his laptop when he got home each night.

Brent Langer was former FBI turned NCIS. Handsome, smart and dedicated, he'd proven to be a good agent and an asset in the field. He got along well with his previous team and had  commendations in his file. He was also a latent sentinel who had yet to come online even at his age. It made for a few off notes in his file but Tony didn't put much faith in SAGC chatter. Coming online later in life was perfectly acceptable and he didn't think less of the man for it.

Michelle Lee came straight from FLETC and seemed so new she squeaked. When encouraged, she showed a breadth of knowledge on the law and legal procedure and was amazingly swift when it came to the training mats. She did smell like deceit at times but then again she also smelled like sex and Jimmy Palmer so Tony just made a note of it and continued to observe.

Daniel Keating was somewhere on the spectrum, Tony was sure. The man's actions and scent pile contradicted themselves and even though he smelled heavily of deceit and lies, Tony was able pull the threads to his whole tangle in a few conversations, both at the office and on the training mats. An event from his FLETC training haunted and followed him through his career and when Tony looked into it, revealed a much bigger black mail ring that spanned a few agencies and police departments.

Tony had quickly handed that one off to Macy and the DOJ and dusted his hands of it. He'd had enough of clusterfucks for the year, arigasankyu. Keating's departure was facilitated by a transfer to a special cyber crime unit and Tony wished him well. The man was talented with computers and investigations but lacked the enthusiasm for field work. He was much more comfortable with machines than people anyway. That left them with two little mice.

Though Langer did have a few blips that didn't add up, it was Lee who tripped Tony's instincts as well as Gibbs's gut. With the both of them zeroing in on her, she broke down and reluctantly confessed that her daughter was being held hostage by her foreign contacts. At Tony's narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, she cursed and wept silently that Amanda wasn't her daughter but in fact her sister. It was only then that Tony nodded and Gibbs put forward a plan to use Lee as bait to trap her foreign handlers in exchange for new lives with WITSEC.

Though Lee agreed, Tony could see that she didn't have much faith in either of the sisters coming through the other side of this alive. He ended up taking her aside before the sting and outfitting her with one of his wicked little belt buckle blades.

"This will save your life in a pinch. And you better fight to survive. " he caught her gaze and kept it, the both of them standing in silence of the empty hallway. "You are all that little girl has left in this world. You are everything she loves and hopes for. Do not let her down. I will find her and I will bring her home to you. Believe me."

He put the blade in her hand an wrapped her fist around the ergonomic handle tight enough to hurt. She had to feel it. She had to make it real in her own mind.

"Eyes. Throat. Groin. Soft tissue. Be quick. Be brutal. Make them bleed. You WILL fight with everything you have to get back to her. No matter what it takes."

She gave him long searching look before she left with Gibbs and Tim, nodding sharply at him before getting into the elevator. Tony could only nod to himself as he went off with Langer. As they freed a trembling Amanda from the boobie-trapped bed and escaped around the bodies of dead terrorists, he had Langer check in with Tim about their end.

The story he got back seemed unbelievable but seeing the shot up bus, Bankston's torn up face and neck, blade still sticking out of his eye socket and the blood soaked Lee wrapped in a trauma blanket; hugging her weeping sister tight enough to hurt; something inside him felt satisfied.

"Yours?" Gibbs, a new bandage over his eye from shrapnel, gestured at the blade a bag bunny was gingerly trying to extract from the ravaged eye ball. Tony just shrugged and pulled his own belt blade enough for his boss to see before slipping it back in place.

"Doesn't seem so."

Gibbs just huffed and stalked off to deal with the wrap up. Things moved so fast after that, the two sisters swept up into WTISEC's cloak with no more than a moment for Michelle to catch his eye and mouth 'thank you' before vanishing for good. The DOJ was happy, Macy was happy, Gibbs was… satisfied and Tony just wanted to get back to work.

Langer chose to stay with the team as he gelled well, joining Tony for basket ball at the Y and for pool with Abby and Tim at a local watering hole. Tony brought Jimmy closer into the group as he was still reeling from finding out his lover had been a spy and had probably been using him for some nefarious purpose. Tony had been on the other side of that so he could at least give the man a sympathetic and understanding ear.

Tony began to search a few for more team members once more, finally pulling Maeve Wilkins from the Florida Field Office and Sunya "Sunni" Noy from the west coast, Camp Pendleton. They were both highly qualified and competent agents and made great additions to the MCRT.

Maeve was hilarious, despite her resting bitch face, with an unbelievable 'Florida Man' story for every occasion. She also admitted to working at a crocodile farm and doing some wrestling in her misguided youth with her brothers that left both Tony and Tim gobsmacked. She also drank like a fish and was a crack shot on the range.

Sunni was more subdued but ruthless on the training mats. Her skillset was based on analysis and pattern recognition from her time in Singapore at the Southeast Asia field office but her husband's career had brought them back to the US. Her humour and wit were more dry and sarcastic but she was a shark at scrabble and made the best sangria Tony had ever tasted.

Life went on and the MCRT kept up their high solve rate and strong team work. Tony kept in touch with his family, cooked for his friends and co-workers, watched his boss sand his almost finished boat and ran with Gibbs' puppy, Snacks - A marine's best friend - twice a week. He finished off his Masters and continued to train his body and mind in anything that caught his interest. He was contemplating getting his doctorate but choose to take a break before making a decision on that particular path.

He started seeing both Penelope and Derek Morgan from the BAU casually as a third whenever their busy schedules aligned. The dynamic between them easy and comfortable and he found them both equally attractive. Not to mention the sex was fantastic. Ten out of ten would definitely recommend. Besides, he wasn't looking for anything too serious and neither were they. He wasn't in any hurry anyway. He never felt lonely and had enough emotional support from his family not to crave it from strangers.

Lawry's wedding was an affair to remember and had a week of events leading up to the ceremony. Colterstone Keep was resplendent with flowers, lights and the laughter of high society guests. There was a black tie arrival dinner in the great hall with Tony in a tux at Lawry's side and Clive standing with them as Paddington Family head. Cecily's mother and grandfather stood with her as Blackwoods as the speeches and toasts rang out in the golden light.

The next day was country pursuits: clay pigeon shooting, archery, horseback riding across the estate trails with a grand picnic lunch with afternoon tea in the gardens. Day three was a masquerade ball with a live orchestra for dancing and a fireworks display to end the night. Day four was more laid back with a celebration of the arts with painting and poetry reading in the morning and an outdoor Shakespeare performance in the evening.

Day six dawned with perfect weather, Tony and Lawry enjoying a private breakfast and each other's company. They'd been in each other's lives for over twenty years at this point. Laughed and cried together, learned and loved and had the blessing of Mags in their lives. Now Lawrence was starting his own new chapter and Tony was so very glad to be there for him the way he'd been there for Tony since he was twelve.

They got ready in their grey tailed morning suits, the rings secure in the pocket of Tony's waistcoat. The ceremony was held in the estate's small but beautiful chapel, Cecily looking divine among the flowers in her hand made flowing lace wedding gown and delicately embroidered veil. Sunbeams through stained glass windows gave the ceremony the look of a dream and Tony could only smile and wipe away a few quiet tears as his uncle stepped into a wonderful new life of love.

The couple took Mags' Yellow Rolls Royce back to the castle where a large outdoor marquee had been built and decorated. The guest list swelled to over five hundred and Tony found himself rubbing elbows with foreign royalty, heads of states, diplomats and celebrities. Thankfully, Clive and his wife took most of the social responsibilities as Paddington Head so Tony could hide away in the corner with Eddie, James and a few of the other cousins.

He'd come stag as Steve had been mid secret mission and Tony hadn't wanted to bring anyone else into his life on this side of the pond. The lights were honey gold, the orchestra wonderful, the food delicious and dancing entertaining. He cut a rug with Cecily, her mother and a few other random aunts and cousins; even grabbing Lawry for a twirl around the floor.

He did make the rounds a few times, solidifying the connections he'd made through Lawry's efforts, making new ones among the guests and deftly avoiding most others who seemed only interested in Tony's position as Lawry's Heir. Thankfully, the cousins closed ranks around him during those times, keeping him safe and comfortable for most of the party. 

The last day was the Farewell Brunch & Blessing held on the large stone terrace with close family. They drank champagne, made toasts, gave blessings while the couple handed out hand written thank you notes and keepsakes. He'd stood, feeling truly welcomed amongst family,  glass raised, tears of joy and love in his eyes as he looked upon his grinning uncle and his blushing new bride:

"You’ve been more than an uncle to me—you’ve been my guide, my protector, my family. You stepped in and raised me when you didn’t have to, and I’ll never forget that. And now, seeing you step into love for the first time, into a life you truly deserve… I’m just so proud of you. You’ve spent so much of your life giving to others. Now it’s your turn to be loved—fully, freely, and joyfully."

 "If Mags were here today… " His voice caught in his throat but he pushed through. "… I know your mom would be beaming with pride, swathed in silk and wearing her best fur and jewels. She’d see the man you’ve become… kind, steady, full of heart… and she’d see the joy in your eyes when you look at your bride. She would’ve adored Cecily, not just for how happy she makes you, but for how clearly she loves you back. I truly believe she’s smiling today, proud of her son and the life he’s building."

They both cried as they hugged, Lawry kissing his temple and whispering "I love you too, my Anthony" into his hair.

A weepy Cecily soon joined them for a three way hug that left no dry eye in the place; everyone was a soggy mess. Afterwards, Clive had pulled Tony aside and apologized for his behaviour in the past, there was no excuse for his treating a child that way. He asked for Tony's forgiveness and asked for a chance of building a proper relationship in the future.

And though Tony had long decided that he hadn't needed his maternal uncle's love and approval, he still wanted a chance at making that connection to his mother. They shared a handshake that grew into an awkward but heartfelt hug and Tony came away from the conversation feeling a warmth in his chest and a new sense of hope.

He stood with the others, throwing rice and cheering as the couple waved, the Rolls Royce heading down the gravel drive to their honeymoon, smiling wide enough to hurt as Eddie threw an arm around his shoulder and hugged him close. A few of the cousins spent the next few days keeping him company and knocking about the now empty castle before heading back to London and to their lives.

Tony spent his last day up at the ruins, drawing and meditating as he remembered the first time he'd climbed the hill and seen the ruined tower in all its splendor. He'd been just a kid, reeling from a childhood filled with loss and pain. He'd been in desparate need of love, affection and family and he still thanked God and anyone else up there listening that Maggie and Lawrence had stepped into his life and filled the cold hollow of his heart. With a last visit to the memorial garden and a hug from Siobhan, he'd hopped into a waiting taxi and began his journey back to DC, a soft smile lingering on his face for the longest time.

He started really stepping up Tim's training in SFA duties. Though Maeve and Sunni were both expereinced agents, Tim had put in the time with the MCRT and was shaping up to be excellent Senior Field Agent. Even if they did have a slight problem with the book the tech genius had begun to write.

Thankfully, he'd shared some of the bare bones of the plot with Tony over a night of gaming and Tony pointed out some of the more legal ramifications that could come from using characters so similar to people he knew and cases they'd solved. After sharing a bit with Seth, the lawyer of the Dastardly Six, Tim had ben thoroughly convinced that his Thom. E. Gemcity project was just too much of a lawsuit waiting to happen.

Instead, Tony put him unto some of Steve's retired SEAL friends who were all too willing to tell their stories and provide expert info about the details the budding writer needed to hammer out a new plot for his editor. The book, called "Echoes of Valour" about a retired SEAL drawn out of retirement to solve the murder of his old commander and thrown into a government conspiracy was a hit with both the editor and the publishing house. Tony took Tim out to celebrate the night he got his first advance and let him sleep it off on his couch when he got sloshed from too many body shots.

The day started with a Turkish ship, a sudden explosion and Gibbs in the hospital in a coma. Tony hated it already. He left Maeve at Gibbs' side to handle security and be there if… no, when the older man woke up, and sent Langer, Sunni and Tim to find out what the hell was going on while he spoke to the doctor as his boss' medical proxy.

He stood, horrified, as the man casually spoke about knowing Gibbs from his past in Desert Storm and the truth about Gibbs' secret first wife and daughter killed in cold blood. By that time both Ducky and Abby had arrived and lost their collective shit at the news as well.

Still reeling from his own shock, Tony could only leave Maeve to handle that meltdown as he went off to bring the scumbag who'd blown up his boss to righteous justice. She'd would be ok. She'd wrestled crocs as a kid. He'd make it up to her with some good booze and a home cooked meal. Maybe he'd fly her somewhere nice for a long weekend. 

He got a call from Macy later, letting him know that Gibbs had awoken but had 15 years worth of amnesia and couldn't remember a thing about his life at NCIS, his team or the case. Fortunately, she had been able to wrangle both Abby and Ducky back to the yard and freed up Maeve to help Tony with the investigation as well as contacting Gibbs' old team lead, Mike Franks.

He made a side trip to visit his boss just in time to see Franks telling the silver haired man about 9/11, hurrying to brace the man as he upchucked into a nearby bin. It was weird to see the confusion and non-recognition in those ice blue eyes but Tony forced himself to remain professional as he gently probed the man's memories.

Leaving him with Franks once more, Tony checked in with the team and kept working. Through Tim and Abby's work, they found out that the meet was a set up and the 'agent' had been killed and impersonated. Langer and Sunni went to interview the ship captain and got a lead, Pin Pin Pula… who was playing mole on another ship as the radio operator, keeping his crew in the dark about the BOLO out for his scumbag ass.

As they searched for the ship Pula was on. Tony had an idea and stopped by Gibb's house before heading to the hospital for a late night visit. As he handed the surprised man a squirming dog smuggled in with a duffle of 'clothes', he gave a chuckle.

"He misses you… and even if you don't remember him I figured he could still help keep you company while you recover."

Gibbs looked awed as the happy little dog licked a cow lick into his silver hair once more. It was still equally disgusting and adorable and even sleepy Mike Franks dozing in an armchair in the corner of the room snorted a laugh at the scene.

"At least you didn't threaten to set fire to my boat and burn down my house this time." Gibbs huffed a laugh and pulled the pup into his arms.

"Yeah… " Tony chuckled then stopped to stare into familiar blue eyes. "uh… Boss?"

"Holy shit." Franks sat up in his chair and muttered.

They all headed to the Navy yard because of course Gibbs would hear nothing about rest or recovery and were there in time to hear the idiotic plan the powers that be have for approaching Pula. The PTB ignored Gibbs and Macy's urgent recommendations for a covert search and attempted to send in a team of Navy SEALS. Things almost went tits up when at the last minute the SEALS changed up the plan and managed to catch Pula unawares, taking him out with a knife in the spinal cord before he could trigger the bomb he'd planted to kill them all.

As they listened to the after mission chatter, Tony heard an all too familiar voice amongst the SEAL team and his knees went weak. Good thing he'd been leaning against his desk. He had to quickly excuse himself to have a panic attack in the men's room. Steve. He knew Steve's voice anywhere. Oh My fucking God. Steve had been one of those SEALS almost blown away by idiot politics and a trigger happy asshole.

Too close. Too fucking close. Jesus Christ.

He shoved his heart back down his throat and pulled himself together before heading back out to the bullpen, just in time to hear Gibbs tell Macy that he was done and hand her his badge. That he understood why Franks had walked away all those years ago and that he felt the same.

The immediate fallout from that was chaotic, Tony watching silently as Abby freaked out and Ducky went grim. Tim managed to keep himself together, focusing on comforting a sobbing Abby so Tony could get a chance to escort Gibbs out of the building and down to his car.

"You're not going to try to stop me?" the older man finally said as they pulled up to his dark house.

Tony shook his head as he led the way inside. "If I had the week you've had, I would get the fuck out of here too. When are you headed? To Franks?"

Gibbs blinked at his SFA as he made himself busy in the kitchen and gave a rueful smile. "You seem to know me better than I know myself."

"It’s a gift." Tony grinned back. He nodded towards the bathroom. "Get yourself cleaned up and then we'll get you fed and packed. I know you want to get out of here before Abby pulls herself together and jumps in her car. I'll arrange for someone to drive you to the airport and put you on a flight because there's no way you driving to the border in your condition."

He filled a travel mug with coffee and began pulling sandwich fixings out of the fridge, "I'll keep the house in order but you're taking the dog." He looked up to give a bemused Gibbs a narrowed eyes glare. "I gave you that dog. You are keeping the dog."

"Sir, yes Sir." Gibbs gave him a sharp yet playful salute and towards the bathroom, the puppy following along obediently.

Tony leaned heavily against the counter, his head bowed as he tried to just breathe. Gibbs needed his friend and SFA right now. He needed someone else to be strong and take care of things. He didn't need a man exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally from nearly losing his boss and brother to the same scumbag asshole in as many days. He didn't need someone who wanted to cry about how unfair it was to inherit the team this way… so abruptly and without the proper passing of the baton he'd always dreamed of.

Gibb was going through it all himself. The grief of losing his wife and daughter was as fresh in his mind as it was fifteen years ago and the realization that life was just as cheap in the eyes of the Powers That Be as it was when Franks was around was just about enough to break a marine's semper fi heart.  

Tony finished wrapping the sandwiches then called Huxley to arrange to have the plane gassed up and Gibbs' truck serviced and driven to Franks' house in Mexico. Gibbs emerged, clean of hospital smell and holding a military duffel. Tony had already packed the food and held out the travel mug. He bent down to clip on the puppy's leash and check its microchipped collar. A car was already waiting outside.

"One day you're going to tell me how you get your boat out of that basement and take me sailing." he ordered softly, holding that ice blue gaze. "Don't die before that happens."

Gibbs just barked a laugh and opened his arms for a hug, one hand coming up to gently cup the back of Tony's head. "Be good, Dinozzo."

"I will miss you, old man." Tony said against his shoulder. "Don't pickle yourself in mesquite down there. You owe me a sail around the Gulf of Mexico. I already bought the fancy boat shoes for it."

The house seemed like a ghost of itself as Tony stood in the doorway, staring at the empty street beyond. After a while he turned, took off the lights then stepped out into the cool evening air. He locked the door before he left.

-------------------

Cashing in a huge favour from a friend at the white house, Tony found out were Steve was stationed and arranged military transport out to the ship, unable to land his private plane at the restricted airfield. The helicopter ride out to the carrier was torture, his hearing fighting back as he tried to force it down. His emotions were too all over the place and all his meditation tricks were no help whatsoever.

He kept it official with the captain and crew, his 'secret surprise' mission backed up by actual paperwork and he lasted until Steve closed the door to his private quarters and activating the white noise before jumping the man and holding him with a death's grip.

"You almost died. brah." he hissed against his brother's muscular shoulder. "You almost fucking died."

Steve's rumble was a familiar comfort, his arms just as tight around Tony. "I almost die a lot, Tones. It comes with being a SEAL."

"I know that. I do." Tony just squeezed tighter. "… but you almost died in real time on the big screen in front of me... All because of idiot politics and poor decision making. And I wouldn't have even known about it if I ddin't recognize your voice over comms in the wrap up."

"Jesus Christ, Steve." Tony tried to steady his panicked breath and felt his vision go a little wobbly. "Jesus Christ. I almost lost you."

They ended up having to lay on Steve's small bunk for the next hour, Tony wrapped around his bother like an octopus; grounding himself on Steve's heartbeat. Soon enough the call came through that Tony's helo was ready for take off and they got themselves straightened up.

"You came all this way to see me for an hour?"

"I came all this way to see you alive."

Steve's eyes were warm and understanding. "We face death all the time."

Tony just huffed. "Shut up and let me hug you, asshole."

Now that his 'mission' was done, the chopped pilot sent him to a private airfield where Huxley was waiting to take him back home. They all agreed not to mention the mission to John and Mary.

--------------------

To say that there was growing pains would be half an understatement. His team was fine, the MCRT members working well together with Tim really stepping into the role of SFA well. Macy was a good boss, dedicated and protective of her agency and its agents but stand off enough to let Tony work his magic as team lead. Rick Balboa got promoted to AIC which he took to like a duck to water and a senior agent called Gutierrez was pulled from Rota to lead his team. The actual problem came from Abby and Ducky.

Tony understood their trauma from Gibb's loss. Abby was already repulsed by sudden change and with her long history with the former marine, her sense of betrayal from his secret family and abandonment from his sojourn to Mexico had rocked her world like a nine on the Richter scale. All devastation, tsunamis and aftershocks.

Ducky was more hurt pride and hurt feelings as having been in the same ignorance of Gibbs' past at the rest of them. As if he hadn't been one of the trusted ones in Gibbs' circle. The fact that the random doctor at the hospital knew more than Gibb's oldest friend and confidant at NCIS seemed to burn like acid in the older man's throat. He'd seen the question in the Medical Examiner's eyes, always there as if it haunted him.

*Did you know?*

*Did you?*

He never asked Tony out loud but Tony almost wished that he would. At least Ducky could finally lance the boil and drain the fury burning away inside of him. He never did though and Tony could only watch the usually genial and cheerful man go taciturn and curt. No more awesome stories. No more hot, delicious tea. Tony made sure to engage with Jimmy, pulling him more into the group as the morgue seemed colder than before.

Still, at least Ducky stayed professional. Abby spiraled out of control too fast for either Tony or Tim to brace her. He'd finally ended up calling Cait for advice, asking her to take Abby out for a girl's night to try to smooth out some of the emotions the goth scientist was feeling. Sadly, that was a bust, even Cait failing to get through to her friend.

The shrine to Gibbs, the constant crying, the loud wailing music, the idiotic attempt at the trainee stickers and constant personal snipes comparing him poorly to the absent Gibbs. That, piled up on top of the breeches in lab protocol and the willful prioritizing forensic work to favour her personal choice based on mood, favour or straight up bribery was too much.

He spoke to both Balboa and Macy about the situation and was shown a growing pile of complaints from other teams. He suggested an independent audit of both Abby and the lab as well as grief counselling as the woman had several major unresolved issues. The results were grim and ended up with Abby put on administrative leave for mandated therapy which led to a mid bullpen freak out and a seventy two hour hold.

Both Cait and Tim managed to get her to agree to the therapy on pain of termination otherwise and Tony was upset to see her go. Abby had been a good friend and little sister when things had been good and he would miss her humour, her bravery and her brilliance.

They got a new head of forensics - Doctor Eric Chen. An unassuming and quiet man on work, in private he was easy to laugh, had a raging sweet tooth and rode a seriously bad ass Kawasaki motorcycle. He was brilliant scientist and a fan of Abby's work and published papers. But he was also by the book and promptly rearranged the lab to above industry standard which was a relief to both Macy and JAG. He also so didn't play favourites and was not afraid to request additional assistance during times of heavy traffic.

Tony got a new probie as he'd built a record of training them up right and he was satisfied with the number of already trained agents already on the team. Gabriel "Gabe" Bowman was a legit genius who was burning out from the top secret CIA think tank he'd been a part of since he was freaking sixteen. Tony left him in Tim's capable hands though he kept a close eye on both of them.

Gabe was a gamer, professional level, and they spent more than one weekend accompanying him to competitions and events. He was also into cosplaying and building fighting robots so Tony found himself more often that not helping him out with the builds, his experience in robotics from RIMA and blacksmithing coming in clutch.

Then Tim joined them. Then the team joined them and the epic after party after The Smoke Check - which was Navy slang for taking out a target with extreme efficiency - cleared out the mechanical competition and came out champion was epic and a story for the ages. They would still say "Swift. Silent. Smoked." in daily life as an inside joke.

He took the Stoker/Stanleys to Disney World in Florida because he'd promised Jason and Kimberly and they ended up having a blast. He had so much fun that he wanted to take Steve and Mary for a grown up version of the trip and John agreed, even suggesting they make a Disney Christmas out of it. Tony immediately set Huxley into making reservations and plans in advance.

He visited with Sifu and came back to work tanned from surfing at the beach just off the bar and surf shop, some new callouses from wood working and a few bruises from sparring. 

Lawry and Cecily came to spend the tail end of their world tour honeymoon at the Washington house and he brought both Gunner and Sikes to see them, spending a wonderful two weeks showing them around the capital before seeing the happy couple back off to England.

It wasn't that he didn't trust his team but certain parts of his private life he kept hoarded like dragon's gold and he felt little need for them to overlap. Gibbs new a bit, having been Tony's medical proxy for NCIS related matters. He'd met Huxley and spoken on the phone to Lawry more than once. Not much more than that though. He was sure Gibbs had pulled some strings somewhere to get Tony's unredacted file but the man never brought it up.

Six months into Gibbs' hiatus, Tony found himself walking along a Mexican beach in his rolled up shirt sleeves. They sat together on Mike Franks' sagging porch and drank Mexican beer out of dark bottles chilling in a bucket of ice. The dog was bigger, still jumping around and wagging almost its whole body. Gibbs looked weird with the full moustache and beard but more at peace than Tony had ever seen him.

The silver haired man both frowned and chuckled along to news from back in DC but shook his head when Tony asked about coming back. "Having to face everything again. Losing Shannon and Kelly the way I did, going dormant as a result. All of it made me realize that I had never dealt with it the first time. This time, I want to do things better. If only for my self, my sanity and their memory."

Tony just stared at him. "Jesus, therapy who?... that dog is fucking amazing."

Gibbs barked a loud laugh, throwing his head back.

"Yes…" he gave Tony a warm look. "Yes, he is."

Tony just huffed and grabbed another beer, "I'm giving you a year. That's another six months and if you're not back by then, Macy will take you off extended medical leave and process your retirement."

He clinked his bottle against his boss', for Gibbs would always be his boss, "Remember you always have a home with us and you don't have to be on the MCRT to be part of NCIS. People can learn so much from you. I certainly did. And I know you still have the fire burning inside you. Don't drown it in beer and regret."

Draining the bottle, he stood and stretched, his eyes roving over the nearby marina. "Now which boat is yours? I know you built one down here. You still owe me a ride and I packed my fancy boat shoes and everything."

Gibbs chuckled and drained his own beer.

Her name was Sweet Kelly and she was beautiful and glided along the crystal blue gulf waters like a dream. Tony slipped and fell off the boat from his fancy boat shoes and Gibbs just laughed and laughed. Even the fucking dog laughed.

Bastards… both of them.