NCIS Fic: Reasons Why (Tony/OFC, slightly AU)
Title: Reasons Why (Prologue and Beginning)
Author: Sara (callmedirk)
Rating: G
Words: 753
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own Tony or anyone affiliated with CBS and the NCIS franchise. I do, however, own Hannah Chandler. Do not use without my permission.
Author's Notes: This is the beginning of a series of ficlets/snippets. It is an ongoing project in a slightly AU place. Forgive my NCIS newbie-ness. I'm still learning how to write these characters. Future pieces will also be posted at my fic journal bigblckofcheese, and they will be written and posted in no real order. =)
Prologue:
He was messed up. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He was arrogant at times; sensitive at others, and constantly beating himself up when no one was looking. He was screwed up, and while he couldn't pinpoint one exact thing that had caused it all, he had his reasons why things were going so wrong for him.
The Beginning...
He wasn't sure why it affected him so much, but it did. It oddly overwhelmed him to hear Gibbs call him his son, whether he was using it undercover or not. It was the principle of the thing.
Despite the gruffness and the head slaps, Tony felt closer to Gibbs than he did his own father. At least Gibbs considered him somewhat of an equal, and an important member of the team. His father had never really given him the time of day, especially not after his mother had died. Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. had turned to alcohol and violence, making sure that their only child grew up knowing only hardness and cruelty.
Sure, the family had been rich, and sure, Tony missed having the money to do whatever he wanted, but he liked working hard for what he earned than to just be given it as a payoff.
It shook him-rattled his rarely unflappable self, to even be called someone's son. Tony often doubted DiNozzo, Sr even remembered he had a child half the time, let alone acknowledge it as his only child-his son.
It had all started when he was small, Tony thought, going back to his childhood on Long Island. Growing up as the only child of Anthony Sr. and Isabella DiNozzo, he was expected to be a golden child, the heir to billions of dollars. He grew up rich, but wanted to work hard. Tony didn't necessarily want life handed to him on a silver platter, although he wasn't ashamed to admit that that would have been nice.
Isabella had died of lung cancer the summer he turned 11, and he missed his mother desperately. She'd been his one constant source of love and understanding, two things he knew he'd never get from his father-had never gotten from him. Tony had watched his mother die and take every bit of affection from his life.
Tony remembered feeling oddly ashamed at age 13, when he was told that he was expected to go to military school rather than start learning how to run the banking empire his father had built. He'd been shipped off to Rhode Island and dumped unceremoniously at the gates of the academy by his father, duffel bag and suitcase in hand, and his eyes wide with uncertainty.
He'd soon learned that prep school wasn't much different than being at home, with the sharp orders and the instant submissive attitude he took on. Although he was still a teenager, Tony wondered if this was normal. He tried not to think about it and kept plugging along.
At age 18, Tony graduated from the Academy and his father never came to the ceremony. He stood alone on the field, his cap and an envelope in his hand. With shaking fingers, he slid the flap open and found a hundred dollar bill and nothing else. Tony tried desperately to stop the hot tears that filled his eyes, but with no luck. With the back of his hand, he dashed the tears away and went to celebrate with his classmates and friends, who manly ignored the flushed cheeks and damp eyes.
He'd gone home in the summer, back to Long Island and his father. Neither of them mentioned his graduation day, let alone barely spoke to one another. Three months later, Tony packed up the car he'd bought with his savings and headed to college. As he drove past the cemetery that held his mother, he couldn't help but stop to brush his fingertips across her name and date of death. He placed a fresh white rose on the stone.
"I'm sorry, Mama," Tony whispered. "I just can't be around him anymore. I disappoint him no matter what I do. Forgive me."
He ducked his head a moment and got back into the car, not looking back. He adjusted his mirrors and drove straight through to Ohio, where he quickly settled into the college way of things at Ohio State. It was where his life really began, and when he finally realized there was more to life than being miserable and more alone than anyone had ever known.
Author: Sara (callmedirk)
Rating: G
Words: 753
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own Tony or anyone affiliated with CBS and the NCIS franchise. I do, however, own Hannah Chandler. Do not use without my permission.
Author's Notes: This is the beginning of a series of ficlets/snippets. It is an ongoing project in a slightly AU place. Forgive my NCIS newbie-ness. I'm still learning how to write these characters. Future pieces will also be posted at my fic journal bigblckofcheese, and they will be written and posted in no real order. =)
Prologue:
He was messed up. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He was arrogant at times; sensitive at others, and constantly beating himself up when no one was looking. He was screwed up, and while he couldn't pinpoint one exact thing that had caused it all, he had his reasons why things were going so wrong for him.
The Beginning...
He wasn't sure why it affected him so much, but it did. It oddly overwhelmed him to hear Gibbs call him his son, whether he was using it undercover or not. It was the principle of the thing.
Despite the gruffness and the head slaps, Tony felt closer to Gibbs than he did his own father. At least Gibbs considered him somewhat of an equal, and an important member of the team. His father had never really given him the time of day, especially not after his mother had died. Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. had turned to alcohol and violence, making sure that their only child grew up knowing only hardness and cruelty.
Sure, the family had been rich, and sure, Tony missed having the money to do whatever he wanted, but he liked working hard for what he earned than to just be given it as a payoff.
It shook him-rattled his rarely unflappable self, to even be called someone's son. Tony often doubted DiNozzo, Sr even remembered he had a child half the time, let alone acknowledge it as his only child-his son.
It had all started when he was small, Tony thought, going back to his childhood on Long Island. Growing up as the only child of Anthony Sr. and Isabella DiNozzo, he was expected to be a golden child, the heir to billions of dollars. He grew up rich, but wanted to work hard. Tony didn't necessarily want life handed to him on a silver platter, although he wasn't ashamed to admit that that would have been nice.
Isabella had died of lung cancer the summer he turned 11, and he missed his mother desperately. She'd been his one constant source of love and understanding, two things he knew he'd never get from his father-had never gotten from him. Tony had watched his mother die and take every bit of affection from his life.
Tony remembered feeling oddly ashamed at age 13, when he was told that he was expected to go to military school rather than start learning how to run the banking empire his father had built. He'd been shipped off to Rhode Island and dumped unceremoniously at the gates of the academy by his father, duffel bag and suitcase in hand, and his eyes wide with uncertainty.
He'd soon learned that prep school wasn't much different than being at home, with the sharp orders and the instant submissive attitude he took on. Although he was still a teenager, Tony wondered if this was normal. He tried not to think about it and kept plugging along.
At age 18, Tony graduated from the Academy and his father never came to the ceremony. He stood alone on the field, his cap and an envelope in his hand. With shaking fingers, he slid the flap open and found a hundred dollar bill and nothing else. Tony tried desperately to stop the hot tears that filled his eyes, but with no luck. With the back of his hand, he dashed the tears away and went to celebrate with his classmates and friends, who manly ignored the flushed cheeks and damp eyes.
He'd gone home in the summer, back to Long Island and his father. Neither of them mentioned his graduation day, let alone barely spoke to one another. Three months later, Tony packed up the car he'd bought with his savings and headed to college. As he drove past the cemetery that held his mother, he couldn't help but stop to brush his fingertips across her name and date of death. He placed a fresh white rose on the stone.
"I'm sorry, Mama," Tony whispered. "I just can't be around him anymore. I disappoint him no matter what I do. Forgive me."
He ducked his head a moment and got back into the car, not looking back. He adjusted his mirrors and drove straight through to Ohio, where he quickly settled into the college way of things at Ohio State. It was where his life really began, and when he finally realized there was more to life than being miserable and more alone than anyone had ever known.