Chapter Text
(Banner by TouchoftheWind)
Anthony DiNozzo Senior had spent what few resources he had left looking for his son. And those resources had dwindled quickly.
He hadn’t meant to leave Junior alone in that hotel room, but he’d needed to seal the deal with a wealthy widow and having a kid tag along would have ruined all his chances. Junior didn’t usually come with him on trips, but there hadn’t been anyone to watch him, and that was precisely the problem. By the time he’d woken the next morning, wrapped in her arms, his bank balance a little less light, it had been business as usual. And business as usual meant Junior either at school or with the housekeeper. If that damn woman hadn’t had a family emergency, none of this would have happened.
The idea that they’d find his son’s body somewhere, with god knows what done to him, haunted him. What would everyone say if they knew what he’d done leaving his son, what he might have allowed to happen. All the hotel had been able to tell him was that a man sat down with his son at the pool and not too long after that they’d both disappeared.
There was a knock at his door, despite his having told the secretary not to bother him, and the door opened before he could shout his refusal for interruptions at her. A tall, thin man in an expensive suit stepped into the room like he owned it. It had taken Anthony years to learn how to do that, but he had a feeling it came naturally to this man. This man was used to power. And exercising it.
“Mr DiNozzo,” the man said, seating himself before Anthony had a chance to recover.
“Please, call me Tony,” he said with a welcoming smile, hoping that this man represented a new opportunity. “Mr...?”
“You can me Adam.”
There’s something in the tone that sets Anthony on edge, but he’s never been one to shy away from risks. The biggest rewards tend to come from bigger risks.
“How can I help you, Adam?” he asks.
“I’m keeping your son,” Adam tells him, like he’s talking about the score from the game on Saturday, like it’s irrefutable. Anthony’s blood runs cold, because while there’s been little that’s ever been entirely irrefutable to him, he has a feeling that he’s finally met his match.
“What do you want?” Anthony asks, failing to hide his desperation. “I’ll give you anything.”
“I have what I want,” Adam says. Anthony knows how to find wiggle room in a negotiation, but he can’t find any here. Adam’s tone doesn’t leave any.
“Please.”
“You left him,” Adam says, “so he’s mine now.”
“I’ll call the police.”
“Go ahead,” Adam says and he smiles. It isn’t pleasant. It isn’t the genial smile Anthony’s learned to use in any situations. Any one but this. He has no idea how to approach this one. “You can explain to them how you left your son alone in a strange place for days so that he latched onto the first person that showed him kindness.”
If it would get Junior back, he’d be willing to do it. Junior’s his son, his legacy. Everything he’s done has been geared toward Junior taking up his mantle one day.
“I’ll bring my lawyers into this, you can’t possibly get away with it,” Anthony tells him.
“Go ahead,” Adam says. “I’ve seen how deep your pockets go. I can promise you mine go deeper.”
Anthony was used to talking himself into or out of anything. He’s never felt so completely impotent.
“Please,” Anthony says again and his hands shake and voice wavers.
“I told you, he’s mine now, and if you come looking for him, if you threaten his home in any way, I’ll make sure you’re living out of a cardboard box by the time I’m through with you.”
“I can give you money,” Anthony says. He curses himself even as he adds, “if you want boys, I can find you one.”
“I have Tony,” Adam says, unruffled by the implication. “And I’m going to raise him to trust that the person who looks after him isn’t going to abandon him like he means nothing.”
“I love my son,” Anthony says. Adam gives him a look that borders on pity.
“Then why wasn’t that your first argument?” Adam asks. Anthony doesn’t know what to say to that.