Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and I don't own NCIS Los Angeles.

A/N – Since the first AN the story has of course expanded… This story is GEN through and through, but if you pick up undertones – it's no more than in the shows themselves. This story has also changed its name (on LJ anyway) and it's also available for reading on LJ, you can check through the homepage on my profile. I have edited some things since posting on LJ though. All that said – enjoy.

Chapter 1 - Revelations

Tony was alone in the bullpen when the call came in.

Gibbs was with the Director in the MTAC, McGee was out getting lunch and Ziva was in bathroom – Tony could only guess whether in the men's room or the ladies room. So Tony was uncharacteristically alone. He wasn't doing anything in particular though to anyone asking he'd say that he was meditating.

They'd been on cold cases for a week and if this case-dry period was going to last a week longer, then he would actually have to attend another one of those HR seminars, so while he specifically didn't wish for someone to die horribly – he did want something to do. The phone call seemed like a beacon to a man lost at sea. In storm. And half-starving. He almost overbalanced on his chair as he straightened to grab the phone.

"DiNozzo," he barked in the receiver.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo Junior?"

The voice on the other end sounded lawyerish. He had a good gut – not as good as Gibbs' gut, but an overall good gut and his gut was telling him that something wasn't right. Maybe some bank had confused his and his father's accounts again.

"Yeah," he replied cautiously.

"I'm Mr. Burke from Burke & Hill lawyer's office. I'm your father's legal representative and I'm afraid I have bad news for you."

His father had many lawyers so Tony didn't even blink at the name he recognized only vaguely. His heart did stutter in his chest. Bad news. What did it tell him about his father if his father's lawyer called to tell him that something was wrong? He hated himself for the anxiety he could feel creeping up his spine – his father did not deserve the consideration. Tony grunted in the phone indicating that he was still listening.

"Your father was admitted to hospital in Long Island yesterday. He has been suffering from a liver disease for over a year now and has been on a transplant list for almost as long. I'm afraid he's living his last days now and he has asked me to contact you to ask you in his name to come visit him."

"What if he had a living donor?" Tony asked before he could stop himself. Why the hell did he offer? It's not like he wanted to give up part of his liver for the bastard that had been absent most of his life, did he? And – why the hell would a lawyer know about livers anyway? Tony felt like smacking himself at the back of the head.

"The disease is far too advanced for a living donor to be able to help. Even if he was granted a whole liver now – it's far too late. I'm sorry," and what's the worst thing – the man on the phone, Mr. Burke really did sound genuinely sorry.

"Right," Tony muttered. He felt guilty for feeling relieved. He didn't know what he'd do, if he actually had the chance to save his father. Some part of him hoped he'd have the guts to tell 'no'. He didn't like the Oliver Twist role he constantly felt pushed into when it came to his father. 'Please, sir, can I have some more,' of your attention.

"Agent DiNozzo? What do I tell your father?"

"Tell him, I'll be there," Tony said before unceremoniously dropping the phone. Now he did smack himself in the back of the head before relaxing back into the chair. All he had to do now was to figure out how to get a couple of days free without letting the team know what was up.

It wasn't because he thought that they wouldn't care. Hell, he knew that Probie would get them first class tickets on the first plane out on his own money if not the agency's, while Gibbs would put everyone on leave, and even Abby would want to tag along for support... He didn't want the circus. He sure loved his NCIS family, but he also didn't want them exposed to his father. He didn't want to make this out to be a big deal either. He'd make peace with his old man, before the guy died and that's it. Sure, the whole thing felt and stank like shit, but it's not like he was going to be permanently traumatized or something. He'd get over it quickly enough. He had done it before.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Tony?" Gibbs looked up at his senior field agent after reading the first two sentences on the paper slipped under his nose.

"We've been working cold cases for a week now, and I do have a lot of unused vacation time," Tony replied shrugging.

Gibbs opened his mouth to say something – something nasty and scathing, judging by his expression, but Ziva got there first.

"What's her name, Tony?" she asked. "I bet her legs 'go to the sky where she flies'," she mockingly quoted what she'd heard Tony say earlier on the phone. "She's a flight attendant and she's in town only for the weekend? Blonde and nicknamed Ginger, yes?"

Tony blinked. Ziva must have seen him browsing airline websites or flirting with the flight consultant, if she got that idea, though he did not recognize the exact words she had used. He grinned a big shit-eating grin and didn't disappoint his partner, when he said, "Actually, the name's Brenda and she's a redhead!" He spared a look at his boss, "Sorry, boss, not all redheads are for you."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs growled taking charge of situation.

"Come on, Boss. I just want a couple of days," he made sure to sound a bit whiny. "I know those wives did a number on you, but you must remember how it was when the occasional Cinderella rolled in town." Gibbs put up with a lot from him, but Tony knew that, if he wanted to irritate his boss into doing what he wanted Gibbs to do without arousing suspicions, then he had to hit low and fly high and superior, and better have plan B. "Or Snow White, or Little Red Riding Hood, whichever suits your needs best."

He heard Ziva gasp and felt more than saw McGee looking up from his computer. He bit his tongue as to not wince when he saw the expression on Gibbs' face.

"Not that there's anything wrong with abstaining," he back-pedaled. "Not that I'm saying that you're abstaining..."

Gibbs stood. "With me," he ordered sharply rounding the table and heading for the elevator.

Tony shot a pleading look at McGee who grimaced companionably, but didn't say anything. Tony turned on his heel and followed his boss. So far so good. "On your six, Boss," he announced loudly.

"Hope she's worth it," Ziva hissed at him when he walked past her.

"Not Hope – it's Brenda this week," Tony replied and winked at her before hurrying to catch up with Gibbs. He barely managed to slide in the elevator cabin before the doors closed.

The elevator was between the stops when Gibbs flicked a switch and it shuddered to a halt. He turned and stared down at Tony wordlessly demanding an explanation.

Tony knew he had to play this smart. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as if he was nervous. He was, to tell the truth, a little bit, anyway. "I just need a couple of days off."

"Why?"

Tony figured that Gibbs must have completely run out of patience, if the man actually brought himself to voice the demand. "I'm not feeling... I feel off my game. I need to take a few days to get my head straight. It's not busy now and you know that when it is it's … Wow. Like the War of the Ring every time and ..." he paused to draw a breath and coughed inconspicuously.

"Your lungs bothering you?"

"No, I'm fine," Tony immediately and dutifully protested before coughing again. "It's just been a while since I had time off, you know. And it's not been an exactly easy ride these past few years, so. I promise I'll be back next week as good as new. Fresh and bright on Monday. I just need the weekend off-call."

"Alright," Gibbs agreed graciously and turned the elevator back on. "If you're not fine on Monday, DiNozzo," he left the threat open ended.

"I'll be bright and early!" Tony promised with a grin. He smirked at McGee and waggled his eyebrows at Ziva before sliding into his chair for the entire world looking like cat that got the cream.

NCISXNCIS:LA

It was late Saturday afternoon when he walked into his father's hospital room. The man, who had seemed bigger than a grizzly bear most of his childhood, looked positively tiny in the hospital bed.

"Hello, father," Tony said and didn't wait for an invitation to sit down in the plastic chair by the bed.

"Junior," his father rasped. "You're here."

Tony nodded, "Your lawyer said you wanted to see me."

"I want to tell you something," DiNozzo Senior replied. "It's nothing you wouldn't find out from lawyers when I die, but..."

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Tony interrupted. He was genuinely curious about that.

Senior pushed himself higher up in the bed. "I didn't want you here," he answered, honestly. "I knew that if you knew you'd come no matter how hard you claim to hate me. I didn't want you to pretend to be the dutiful son that you're not. You've never done what I've asked you to do. A little bit of good press during my last months – you taking one for the family. Taking care of me. I didn't want that circus."

Tony flinched only when his father's words echoed his own thoughts a few days ago. He didn't want his team here, because he hadn't wanted the circus. The unintentional similarity in choice of words sickened him. Suddenly he wished Gibbs was here to put a hand on his shoulder and offer silent support. He wanted Abby to be here to show everyone what was real circus and how fun it was. And Ducky – who would have a remotely related story. Even Probie who would be more uncomfortable than him with the situation and Ziva who'd be annoyed, but would appear unflappable.

"You wanted me here now," Tony reminded coldly.

"I want to see you make your decision while I'm alive," his father rasped. "There's a chance you might yet surprise me."

Tony frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Did you ever wonder about your trust fund? Your mother set it up for you and she was never the brightest or long-term thinking woman, but she was wealthy. Her whole family is rich. So did you ever wonder why you got so little?"

"Not particularly, no."

DiNozzo Senior laughed. "Figures. Well, it's so tiny, because she set it up as your pocket-money account when you started school."

Tony clasped his hands in front of himself and forced his body to relax. Whatever his father was planning on telling him to rattle him was not going to work. He'd dealt with people far worse than his old man. And as much as he loved money, he wanted nothing from his father – he was almost sure of that.

"Hrrm," Senior grumbled. "When she died, your half of her money went into my custody. I couldn't touch it, but I could decide when and how to give it to you without any restriction. Like I said – your mother wasn't very good planner and she didn't have a very good lawyer when we signed the pre-nuptial contracts..."

Tony was disgusted by the self-satisfied expression on his father's face. "Why do I have the feeling you had something to do with that?"

"That's not important. Your mother isn't important. Money is important. Your money."

"I've never seen it. Haven't missed it," Tony retorted.

"See," his father snarled. "This is the attitude. That's why I never saw it fit to give it to you. If you wanted to rough it like the ordinary folks, you could do so without your mother's money."

"My money," Tony reminded calmly.

DiNozzo Senior smirked. "Your money," he mocked. "You're not good enough for money. You didn't even ask why you get only a half."

Tony sighed. "Figured, half goes to you as the husband."

His father huffed. "I got nothing, but problems from your miserable mother. Now comes the story. I'm dying and I don't really care about you anymore, but I do want to be the one to tell you the truth about your whore of a mother and the bastard she gave birth to. You see, she was already pregnant when we got married. I found out only after the wedding and let me tell you – that thing in her belly wasn't mine. Now, I'm a nice guy and divorce would have been ugly and bad for business so I told her – she could either abort it or if it's a girl, keep it. Since you don't have sister, you've probably figured that she gave birth to a little bastard. I wasn't about to let my family fortune fall into hands of an unrelated urchin, so I took the kid and anonymously donated him to the system."

"You did what?" Tony asked. He was shocked to the core and trembling. Whatever he'd thought his father was going to spring on him... It sure as hell wasn't this.

"Day after the little cretin was born, I gave him away. I did it for you. I wasn't about to let some unrelated son of my bitch of a wife take what belonged to my heir – you," his father said calmly.

"Though you turned out to be a major disappointment. Maybe a little competition would have been good for you. You would have appreciated your father's business more," DiNozzo Senior managed to look both wistful and calculative. There was a glint in his eye that Tony should have been able to recognize as a trained investigator – a lie, but nothing ever had hit this close to home in any of the hundreds of interrogations he'd been into. His father was lying. Or at least, not telling the whole story, but then again, it wasn't DiNozzo Senior's goal to be honest – and Tony didn't see it.

"So, see. Your mother dedicated the other half of her money to that bastard and I'm sorry, son, but there's nothing I can do to get to that half. Believe me; I've tried, ever since I found out about that small-print clause in her testament when she died."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Tony barely managed to voice a question.

"Because when I die you will stand before a choice. I have written a back-dated order for your half of your mother's money to be released to you. You can have that and all I have, if you promise to never try to look for that little weasel your mother gave birth to before you. I'm not even asking you to quit that ridiculous job of yours. I'm giving you the last chance to be a real DiNozzo."

"And if I refuse?" his throat was dry.

"Well, then you get nothing. Because in case you prove to be an idiot and turn down my generous offer, all my money goes to my cousins and the dog shelter – to anyone, but you and without that back-dated order your mother's will's conditions kick in and you get nothing. You can't touch her money, if you don't find that bastard. And I guarantee you – you won't," DiNozzo Senior smirked when he said that.

"What makes you think I won't? I work for a federal agency. You have no idea what resources I could employ to find my brother." 'My brother,' words felt strange, but right on his tongue. There was someone else in the world who was family, besides his father and rarely seen uncles. He'd be ecstatic, if it wasn't such a shock. Tony felt a bit like a character in a movie.

"Half-brother," DiNozzo Senior spat. "And you won't find him; because I did and I did everything I could to make any trace linking him to my family name disappears. Your mother never found anything and she had all her wealth at her disposal," he scoffed at the mention of his wife.

"Mom looked for him?" Tony hated how his voice broke. He had always thought his mother was weird and cold woman. Rarely affectionate and mostly just possessive. To find out that she had left half of everything she had to him and the other half to a child she had lost before him, but had never given up on – it explained a lot about her behavior and for the first time in a long time he felt only love when he thought of her.

"She never found anything," his father repeated, smugly.

Tony's eyes were bright and he fought not to shed tears when he looked in his father's face. "You're a bastard." God, he was not going to cry. He was tougher than that.

DiNozzo Senior smirked. "Well, I never expected you to surprise me and become a real man, but it was worth telling you this myself. A grown boy. A DiNozzo nonetheless – just about to start wailing like a baby. You're not worth my money. Disowning you was the best thing I ever did in my life."

Tony stood. "The only good thing you did was just now. Telling me I have a brother."

"The lawyers would have told you anyway when I died. It's in your mother's will. It'll be released when I die. This I did for my own amusement."

"Goodbye, father," Tony said barely controlling himself. He was trembling with anger and joy, but mostly he was confused and in shock. He turned on his heel and left, never looking back. He didn't stop until he was outside the hospital. Once outside he bent over and took a couple of deep breaths. Not quite the peacemaking he had expected, but... A new beginning, maybe, though it was way too soon to tell. He felt slightly nauseous.

'Oh, God. I have a brother!'

NCISXNCIS:LA

Hannah Lawson

That's what the tombstone read, but G new better. It was his sister down there. Amy Callen. He could barely remember her. Just a few vague moments. Memories half-hidden in fog. The scar on his wrist was the only thing that assured him that he wasn't delusional, that he wasn't mixing dreams with reality. It had happened. The red cart. The fall. The laughter and the tears. He had a sister. He had a scar to prove it.

He glanced at the flowers at the base of the tombstone. He had had a sister. He didn't even remember her face.

He looked at the card he had put back in the bouquet, he didn't touch it, just looked. It was the same hand writing as from the notebook with the list of all his foster homes. His father. It had to be. But then, why? Why hadn't the man come forward? Why hadn't he and his sister lived safe with their father rather than in foster homes? His sister would be alive then. He would know his name then.

The bouquet. It was beautiful. It meant that whoever put it there cared. Why would a person who cares abandon his children to the system? As always G had only questions and no answers.

Though as Keelson had suggested, his questions where no longer, who? He knew who. Amy, his sister. His father, who was so obviously still around. Why. That's the question he was told to ask and now he wondered. Why?

What could he ever have done to deserve this?

NCISXNCIS:LA

It was Tuesday and Tony was munching on a burger while also reading the file of their newest suspect for their newest murder victim. Only a few new things had happened in the last week and a half since he'd gotten back from Long Island. Actually, the new case was about the only big new thing to happen. He finished his burger and yawned. He slammed the folder close and leaned back into his chair.

"Tony, you can't possibly be finished with that already!"

He raised his eyebrow, well, eyebrows, but he did try to raise only one, like Spock. Anyway, he raised his eyebrows and glanced at Ziva. "I am and even if I wasn't, I wouldn't be sharing."

"What?"

"It was a damn good burger," he said relaxing in his chair and closing his eyes.

"I meant the paperwork, Tony!" she rolled her eyes. "You can't be possibly finished with the file. Though speaking of the trash food, some sharing would only do you good," she made a point to stare at his stomach, but since he was pretending to be sleeping, her efforts were wasted.

"It's junk food, Ziva," he corrected absentmindedly.

"Whatever," she shrugged. "You better have something for Gibbs, if you're going to have a nap now."

"I'm not napping, I'm meditating," he corrected again.

She shrugged again, "Same difference."

Tony smiled. "Work smarter, not harder, Probie," he said vaguely remembering using the same phrase before. "And do it quietly," he added crossing his arms behind his head and raising his legs up on the desk.

He knew it wouldn't be long until Gibbs would storm in the bullpen with some new piece of information or a gut feeling and then the whirlwind that was an active case would pick up again, but for now Tony could just relax for a moment. Meditate a little. And think.

In the last week he had made a few inquiries. About his father. About his mother. He had been stonewalled every step of the way. All paperwork was locked up on his father's orders and all that was his to know would be released only upon his father's death. The rest... Tony was sure his father had made certain that the rest was destroyed, before he even told him the story.

Once his emotions had settled a bit, Tony had started to seriously consider that his father could have lied. It most certainly wouldn't be beneath DiNozzo Senior to send him on a wild goose chase. The excuses and occasionally even mute silence that greeted his questions though convinced him that there was at least something that he didn't know. Whether it was bigger or smaller than his father made it to be; whether it was the same thing at all – Tony didn't know and it was implied, he wouldn't, not while his father was still alive.

He hadn't told his team what he'd been up to yet either. Then again, there was nothing to tell. Not yet. And if he told them what was going on, then he'd have to admit to manipulating them and that was more than he was ready to do. Though he knew that he might need their help. Even though he knew that they'd give him their best without any reservations.

His fingers clenched into fists beneath his head. A mess. Everything was such a mess, he wasn't sure from where to begin to untangle it all.

He lowered his arms into his lap and relaxed his fists. He would approach this as he approached every case. He would start with what he knew and work forward from there. It was just at the moment he didn't know anything. Not for certain.

Tony opened one eye to glance around and at Ziva. She was still working and Gibbs wasn't in sight. He would tell his team once he knew something for certain. No sense in getting everyone worked up if this turned out to be just another one of his father's tricks to fuck with his brain. He closed his eye. He was secure in the knowledge that the team would stand by him when he was ready to come clean – well, at least half clean, there was no way he was going to admit how easy it was to manipulate them; it'd be less fun that way. He smiled lightly. They wouldn't let him fall.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked kicking at Tony's desk.

Startled, more than usual due to his deep thinking, Tony jumped, overbalanced and fell to the floor. Before he could say anything Ziva laughed, Gibbs frowned and the telephone on his work desk rang. Also his back ached.

He automatically jumped to his feet, grimaced and grabbed the phone. "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, listening..."

The first words he received over the line made him freeze. He could feel Gibbs and Ziva watching him, but how was he supposed to stop blood from draining away from his face? Unlike the conversation nearly two weeks ago, this one was short. A thank you for the received condolences, a confirmation that, yes, Saturday morning was good enough and it was painlessly over. He put the receiver down.

"Tony?" Ziva asked tentatively.

"DiNozzo?" Damn, even Gibbs sounded concerned.

Tony closed his eyes, took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. It was time to face the music. Inappropriately in his head the first notes of "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?" rang. He turned to face his boss and partner. Only Probie was missing from bullpen. He smiled shakily feeling much more confident that he looked. Then the words tumbled out, "My father's dead."

NCISXNCIS:LA

Gibbs had wanted to put him off-call for the whole weekend, but Tony had insisted that a second weekend free would be far too indulgent. As it is, he suspected that Gibbs was suspecting something, after all, his father is dead and as much of a bastard as DiNozzo Senior was – Tony isn't and he did feel genuinely bad, but the grief for what he had never really had was buried under all the excitement about what he could have.

It was Saturday and from the way Abby was eying him from the opposite armchair he was sure that his attitude had to have seemed a little weird over the last few days. He grinned tentatively at her. She frowned.

Tony sighed. "You really didn't have to come, you know."

"Yeah, I did," she replied with complete conviction over her own words. "Ducky has to release the victims' body to the family and complete the paperwork. Gibbs, Ziva and McGee are wrapping up the case files for their reports, but you're excused and I'm finished with the evidence so I'm here to support you."

"This isn't a funeral, you know," he said. Speaking of which, he wasn't sure what to do regarding the funeral. It's not like he had any idea what his father would have wanted or liked. It's not like he could erect a tombstone in the middle of the Wall-street which was just about the only place of significance for his father. "Just a reading of the will."

He realized he must have looked as lost as he felt, because Abby reached over and grabbed his hand, and squeezed reassuringly. Tony smiled and squeezed back.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Abby wasn't let in on the actual reading. Tony could have insisted, but on some level he was afraid of what he was going to hear and he wasn't sure he could act appropriately surprised or shocked to convince Abby he hadn't known something previously. Not to mention that Abby would immediately tell Gibbs and Gibbs would do something, Tony wasn't sure what, but his boss always did something to get things moving and Tony... Tony just needed a while to digest the information, to calm down.

He needed to know things in advance if he was to keep a step above his teammates and with a matter so personal, he could not afford to be the last one to know. He needed to be told first. For one goddamn time, at least.

It took the lawyer almost two hours to tell him what his father had told him in less than thirty minutes. Well, to be honest, Tony could point out that the lawyer was being polite in his speech where his father hadn't hesitated to speak crudely. Still the point was the same – accept the terms and you get the money, decline and you walk away as penniless as you came in. Tony hadn't spent a single conscious moment contemplating his choice. He had chosen the first time he'd been put before this ultimatum and he'd done it without even thinking about it, he wasn't going to change his mind now.

"Do you wish to see your mother's will before you decide?"

Tony almost shrugged. It didn't really matter what his mother's will said, but he'd never seen it before. At this point he didn't doubt his father's word, but then again Rule Number Three: Don't believe what you're told. Double check. "Yes."

His mother's will was laughingly simple and short, if one compares it to the book of conditions his father had written up. Five minutes later he glanced up from the paper. "It says here that I get a letter."

The lawyer frowned and checked his own paperwork. "That is true. The letter will be released to you no matter what you choose to do regarding your father's will, however I cannot release you, before you make an official decision. It's in paragraph 38 clause 4 sub clause A in your father's will."

Tony smiled warily. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't, huh?"

The lawyer blinked not sure how to answer to the replica. Luckily for him, Tony wasn't expecting a reply, he went back to re-reading his mother's will to make sure he hadn't missed anything the first time. Ten minutes later he was sure he hadn't. The whole thing was straight to the point and as much as he might have hoped to glean something about his mother – at least read her own words – in the document, but it was painfully obvious that while the will was based on her wishes, it was completely drawn up by a lawyer – an incompetent or brought one at that.

Tony felt a nauseating urge to laugh. The stack of papers in front of him is what his parent's lives summed up to. Everything they were and all they left to him – his legacy was a hillside's worth of contradicting legal papers each outranking the next.

He handed the will back to the lawyer. "Give me the renouncement forms. I respectfully decline my late father's kind and last offer to be his dutiful son," if the lawyer heard the sarcasm in his tone, the man didn't comment.

His parents were dead. Their quarrel was dead with them. Tony was glad to realize that he didn't give a shit about the mess they'd both left him with. He signed away the fortunes of his mother and father with easy hand.