Out of the Depths (2/3)
Kono should have brought a book or a few cold case files. It was odd being in Steve's house. She'd seen it used during assassination attempts, as a crime scene, but never alone with all the ghosts that walked around.
It didn't feel like Steve; the art and furniture dated from his childhood. Maybe it brought him familiarity or comfort. It didn't fit with a guy used to sleeping on bedrolls across the world. But after a year, maybe it should reflect Steve more?
There were tiny bits of him in places. A new plasma TV with rows of action and war blu-ray DVDs on the shelf. She thought the cabinet filled with antique firearms belonged to his father, but the more modern, way cooler military ones were Steve's.
Magazines filled the bookshelf: Guns and Ammo. Modern Warrior. Oceanography. Naval Times. Among all the light reading were rows of pictures, some of military buddies, the others of the Five-O team. She smiled at the ones from a recent barbeque and last month's bowling night. The far left one was taken at Chin's birthday.
Jenna was at the far end, her arm over Kono's shoulder, both of them laughing. Kono slammed the picture down and kept herself from yanking it out of the frame.
It was almost lunchtime, but luckily, she knew how to make a mean pasta salad. Every twenty minutes or so, she stopped by the guest room to check up on Steve. By the time the pasta and bread sticks were done, she heard a curse. Kono turned off the oven, slowing her steps as she reached the door.
"Boss? It's me, Kono. I'm coming in."
The room was dark compared to the rest of the house. Kono paused, allowed her eyes to adjust, searching out the McGarrett lump sitting up in bed, ready to spring.
"Steve?"
"Kono?"
"Yep, I've got lunch ready. If you just give me a -"
He struggled to his feet, begged off her help even if he really needed it. "I've got to hit the head," he grunted before shuffling into the bathroom.
She wasn't surprised when he emerged, using the wall like a cane, and headed toward the living room. With an arm braced against his side, he lowered himself into the recliner with a groan until he rested his head.
Kono piled lunch into bowls, loaded the bread sticks onto a plate, and dropped the food and glasses of raspberry iced tea onto the coffee table.
"Thank you," Steve said, reaching for the bowl with a grimace.
Steve chewed slowly and Kono finished before him given his sore jaw. She contemplated turning on the TV, but Steve hadn't, so she didn't search for the remote.
"Where's Danny?"
"Meeting with the governor."
"Alone?"
"No, Chin went with him."
"You should call them. Have them check in when they're done."
Steve didn't ask anything regarding the meeting; then again, he probably didn't have a clue about the frantic hours leading to their unsanctioned trip. In fact, he seemed perfectly content to stare at the walls in thought. Part of Kono was curious as to what was going inside his head until she realized maybe she didn’t want to know. Because Kono knew Steve had faced many unspeakable things as a soldier. And to see him this vulnerable compared to what she imagined he must have experienced in the past was unsettling.
When she gathered the empty bowls, one of the spoons clamored to the floor and Steve jerked his head at the noise.
"Sorry," Kono apologized, flustered.
"I'm fine," he answered, even if his hands were balled into fists in preparation to punch someone. He uncurled his fingers and stared down at his bare chest. "I should probably put a shirt on."
"I'll grab you one."
Kono hurried up the stairs, shaking not in fear but in anger. Anger at seeing Steve so on edge that an unexpected noise startled him. That he could be spooked by a falling spoon. She resisted the urge to slam her hands into the dresser in front of her.
Where was the justice she fought so hard for?
Drawing a steady breath, she focused on the task at hand. His drawers were filled with mostly t-shirts, but Kono rummaged around until she found a green plaid button-up so he didn't have to raise his arms as much.
She returned to the living room and made sure he saw her come around the recliner. He refused her help and Kono ignored how many times it took him to put the shirt on and went over to the windows.
“Dude, it's stuffy in here,” she said, reaching for the curtain.
“Don't,” Steve called out.
Kono glanced behind her. “You don't want to enjoy the breeze?”
“Just leave them closed.”
Steve's steely tone brooked no argument and Kono let the curtain drop from her fingers, feeling for all the world like she was walking on eggshells.
"Do you need something?" she asked, trying to find some way to help, and she covered a huge yawn. "Sorry. I hadn't realized how tired I was."
"You've had a rough couple of days."
"So have you."
Steve's eyes drifted away, and just as Kono thought he'd zoned out again, he broke the silence. "Did you guys bring my stuff here?"
"Stuff?" Her eyes glanced at his bare feet. "You only had your shirt and pants, brah."
"My clothes." Steve sat up with a grunt. "Do you still have them?"
"I dunno. Why?"
He scanned the room like a crime scene. "My pants? What about them?"
"I haven't seen your clothes," Kono said. But Steve wasn't listening, edging forward on the recliner. Kono stopped short of touching him, not knowing how he'd react, which really put her on edge. "Take it easy. I'm sure Danny knows where they are. They might have even been bagged and tagged out of habit."
"There was a necklace," he said.
"I'll take care of it. Don't worry." Steve looked up at her, his face scrunched up in either pain or confusion or both. "I'll make sure to stop by HQ tonight or in the morning," she reassured him.
But Steve switched topics. "Have you heard from them?"
Now it was her turn to feel lost. Didn't she just tell him? "You mean Chin and Danny?"
"Yeah."
"No, I'll check my phone. See if they've texted." She pulled out her cell. "I got a couple from each of them. They're gonna be stuck there a while." Kono shook her head; there were six from Danny alone. "I'll let them know we're good."
Her fingers danced across the tiny keypad. "You wanna tell me about this necklace?" Kono had inkling, one that grated on her nerves like worst kind of scraping sound.
"It was Jenna's."
"Yeah?" She went for nonchalant, tried not to let her anger show, her cheeks flushing hot. "I'll search for it if you want," Kono suggested, trying to do what Steve wanted.
Her phone vibrated and Kono read the incoming text
"You're popular," he mumbled.
"It's from Lori. She's on a break."
"What does she want?"
"She's just checking in."
"That's all?"
There was odd tone to his voice, one she couldn't place. "You want to tell her anything?"
"No," Steve said flatly. "Where is she?"
"With Chin and Danny at the governor's," Kono repeated for the second time.
Steve shifted in the recliner, settling at a slight angle. He didn't argue when she handed him his meds, dry swallowing them before she could grab him a glass of water.
The silence was long and heavy, and just as she thought Steve had fallen asleep, his eyes flew open. "Danny and Chin?"
"They're at the governor's for a meeting," Kono told him, hiding her growing worry behind a tired smile.
"Good. Inform me of their status," he said, closing his eyes and his body relaxing.
Kono pulled her cell out of her purse and debated calling Danny or Chin. Was Steve's concussion worse than it appeared? He had scans and tests at the hospital, but head injuries were tricky. She hovered next to the recliner, cell firmly gripped in her hand. She stared at Steve's bruised face, gritting her teeth at how often he must've been in hit in the face and head.
Gnawing at her lip, she decided to give him time. Repeated beatings, jet lag, hopped up on a whole lot of drugs, and exhaustion were a powerful mix. Leaning back into the cushions, she didn’t turn on the TV, not wanting the distraction. She would check on him hourly, but Kono would let him sleep, hoping she was just paranoid.
***
Kono drifted asleep to the hypnotic waves lapping against the beach. She wasn't sure what woke her, but she opened her eyes, stretching out the kinks in her back and shoulders. Instinctively, she glanced at the recliner and found Steve sleeping restlessly, muttering under his breath.
His body shuddered; his right leg kicked out. Kono couldn't stand watching him in such distress. Standing, she called out his name-just as Steve bolted awake with a hoarse scream.
With a gasp, Kono nearly fell backward onto the sofa. Steve sprang to his feet in seconds, eyes darting around the room. "Kono?"
"Damn, brah. You scared the crap out of me!" Quickly gathering her wits, Kono's embarrassment switched to concern with one look at Steve. "Hey, are you all right?"
The stitches and cuts were ugly and vivid against his graying pallor. Steve wobbled on his feet, grabbing the bookcase to hold him up. His face blanched further and he stumbled toward the bathroom. "Fuck," he said, breath hitching as he went to a knee.
Kono knelt beside him, fingers on his shoulder. "Tell me what you need."
Shaking and sweaty, he fumbled for her hand, gripping it tightly. For a split second, Kono panicked at seeing him so weak and fragile, not knowing what to do. But she took a deep breath and spoke calm and clear. "Are you nauseous?"
"Yeah," he whispered.
Okay. She could do this. “I'm going to help you toward the bathroom."
Taking his bicep, Kono tried to guide him to his feet but then Steve stiffened. "No. Wait!"
Kono froze. "What is it?"
"The room's spinin'."
Nauseous and dizzy. Could be the meds, or the concussion, or maybe a combination of the two. "We'll just wait here a sec." Kono gently rubbed circles over the taut muscles of his back and Steve pressed his head into her side. It was a profoundly trusting gesture and Kono held him closer.
After several minutes, his breathing eased, and the shaking settled. He shifted his weight and leaned more into her.
"All right,” she said. “I think the bedroom is the best place right now. You can lie down and I'll grab you a trashcan if you need it."
"No...just..."
His voice was muffled and Kono wasn't sure of her next step. "What do you want?"
"Back..."
He didn't want to return to the guest room. Kono didn't understand why; then again, Steve had always been a mystery. "Okay, we'll return to the recliner."
She knew it would be better on his injured ribs versus laying flat.
They stood up together, his grip on her arm bound to leave bruises. Kono didn't care and turned them around, easing Steve into the recliner. Then she searched his refrigerator and found a bottle of local ginger ale.
"You should sip this; it'll help your stomach," she said.
He didn't reach out for the bottle and Kono knelt by the recliner. "I know what it's like when a part of your body that you've always relied on is broken. It sucks. It's infuriating and you want to get up and prove to the world that you're better than it." Steve listened to her, watching her through bruised eyes, and Kono touched his arm. "Give it time, brah."
She handed him the bottle and Steve closed his fingers around it. Kono held his arm steady as he lifted it to his lips and she kept the drink from spilling all over him when the trembling started.
"I'm good," he said after several swallows.
Putting the ginger ale on the coffee table, Kono headed back to the sofa.
"Kono," he whispered fighting to stay awake.
"No, worries brah. What are families for?"
She watched him drift asleep, realizing that he planned on camping out in the recliner. Kono couldn't help the pang of sadness it caused knowing he felt the need to remain out in the open in the living room. Sitting in the dark, she glanced at a room normally bathed in sunlight and tried to quiet the voice in her head that things were very wrong.
***
When she heard the car pull up, Kono went to meet Chin and Danny on the porch.
"Something happened," were the first words out of Danny's mouth.
"No, I just didn't want you guys to wake up Steve. He's sacked out in the recliner."
Danny's tense postured eased a bit. Chin narrowed his eyes at her, noting what Kono hadn't said. He looked dead on his feet, but then again, she doubted any of them had really slept much.
"What took you guys so long? Was it the world's longest meeting?" she asked.
"Something like that," Chin snorted. "The governor wanted to know every detail of what happened. We didn't tell him and that began the game of asking every question a dozen different ways."
"Which thus led to an in-depth discussion of policies and procedures of the unit, yadda yadda," Danny said, flapping his hand.
"What? Why?" Kono asked alarmed.
"Hey." Chin laid his hands on her shoulders. "It's not like that. The governor's a little ticked we went off the grid like we did. He can't do anything because we acted as private citizens. He's glad we were successful, but he thinks it's another sign of a behavior problem and wants to keep us in line."
"Five-O is all good then?" Kono asked.
"Yeah," Danny reassured her. "But we have to be there again bright and early tomorrow to go over our last two months' of cases, including everything on we have on Wo Fat."
"Despite giving us the runaround, the governor didn't take too kindly to what was done to McGarrett," Chin said pointedly. Then he and Danny shared a 'look' and Chin's expression became grim. "He also wants Steve to give a statement."
"A statement?" Kono repeated.
"A full one. For the record." Danny punctuated with air quotes. "But we might have mentioned the copious amount of drugs Steve was on. And that perhaps asking him to recall his experience in glorious detail could wait a day or two." Danny gave the door a fond look. "But right now, I am famished."
"I told Malia we'd have dinner." Chin hooked a thumb behind him. "So, cuz, you want to come with us in the morning?"
"Naw, dude. In fact..." She nervously licked her lips. "I think someone needs to keep an eye on Steve. I'm worried about his head injury. He had some memory problems and -"
"What do you mean memory problems?" Danny interrupted. "Like I can't remember my own name or just forgetful?"
"Like I had to tell him where you guys were three times," Kono explained upset. "Maybe he needs to go back to the hospital?"
"Are you kidding me?" Danny waved at the door. "There's no way Steve will agree to go back to the ER."
"Hold up," Chin said, raising his hands. "Were there any other memory issues?"
"No. I mean..." Kono blew out a breath. "He's acting really odd. I can't explain it," she said frustrated.
"It's okay." Chin stepped closer and rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders. "Look. Steve's probably just stressed. We can't expect him to bounce back in just a couple of days."
"I know," Kono relented.
But deep down, maybe she had expected him to just pop back up? Brush himself off and be his old self like he always had.
"I'll keep a close eye on him tonight. See what happens," Danny said, looking frayed.
"If nothing else, I could have Malia stop by and check him out," Chin suggested, easing everyone's tension.
"Okay. That's a good idea," Kono said, feeling a little better. "I'll come back to tomorrow morning to help."
Danny gave her a wan smile. "You sure? I figured you'd be sick of SEAL sitting duties after today. It's not fun."
"It's not supposed to be. I'll go get my stuff and see you in the morning," Kono said over her shoulder, not waiting around to see if they agreed.
***
Kono slept like a rock and woke up feeling like wadded-up dishrag. She got up early and ran by HQ and into the evidence locker. It took a second to find the sealed plastic bag. There wasn't a case number printed on it - just a name and a date.
It wasn't breaking the chain of custody, not really. The North Korean thing wasn't a case. And that's how Kono referred to it her head, because if she thought too hard or too much, her body shook. She hesitated, fingers crushing the plastic, but she removed the necklace and left.
***
Danny swung open the door before she could knock, looking like nine miles of bad road. He squinted against the sun. "Before you ask, I look and feel like shit. Why? Because someone decided that taking his meds was a bad idea. Which meant he didn't sleep; therefore, I didn't sleep." Danny lightly banged his head again the door. "We finally reached a compromise after I threatened to turn the volume up on the infomercial for the Super Juicer Three Thousand."
"He took his pain pill, but not the muscle relaxer," Kono summarized.
"Why, that's a very astute and accurate theory, Ms. Kalakaua."
"Dude, those things don't mix well. When I blew out my knee, taking both of them at once made me all kinds of loopy."
"Yeah, well, maybe that's a good thing because apparently the key to recuperating is to clean weapons. All of them."
She let him bleed off energy as he released an internal valve until he simmered below a boil. Once he was done ranting about being up all night, the worry lines appeared again. Kono patted him on the shoulder and told him to make Five-O look good at the governor's office.
***
Steve sat at the kitchen table, field stripping a sidearm, and Kono counted three or four others strewn apart in pieces. "Is that a custom Sig?"
"No," Steve said without looking up. "It's a MK23."
Kono whistled. "Nice. That can make a two-inch group at fifty yards. Ten rounds?"
"Twelve. I own the military issue." Steve pointed to the decocking lever. "This silently releases the cocked hammer. Allows for better stealth."
Kono raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Magazine release is kind of large."
"Wide enough to use with gloves," Steve said his voice flat.
"Maybe in a couple of weeks, we could go back to Hickman and you could give me some more pointers on calculating trajectory in wind conditions."
Steve didn't seem to hear her suggestion, his focus solely on the Sig. He removed the magazine, retracted the slide to the stop, verifying the chamber was empty. It was mesmerizing watching him, his focus complete. Steve could clean his weapons with his eyes closed, but this - this was something else entirely. This type of methodical precision seemed like a desperate attempt to latch to something familiar.
He pushed the magazine out with a small screwdriver, catching the spring before it hit the table. There. As his thumb pressed downward on the feeder, she realized the real fight was the way he battled to control the tremble of his fingers.
When the tremor took over both arms in a constant shake, he put down the magazine and picked up the stripped barrel of another pistol. He grabbed a wire brush, twirled it around between his fingers, staring at the bottle of solvent.
"You know, when I was fourteen, I volunteered at one of those haunted houses. I was this ghoul," she laughed. "I was chained to this wall for three hours with decent give. Plenty of breaks but, man, my arms hurt so bad, I could hardly move them for three days."
Steve gripped the cleaning brush even harder. "I didn't think about how long I was there," he said. Before Kono could say anything, Steve cleared his throat. "If you handle the gun oil, I'll put everything back together."
Kono noticed the safety goggles on the table and confiscated them. Steve would finish cleaning his weapons no matter what.
"Hand me the brush and we've got a deal," she said.
***
Steve dozed in the recliner an hour later and startled awake with a yell.
Kono read her novel, let him catch his breath and collect himself. After a few minutes, she casually went into the kitchen and brought him a hot glass of jasmine tea and a couple soft oat cookies she found in the pantry.
"Want me to turn the TV on?" she asked.
His face was lined with pain and he grimaced when he touched and inspected his jaw. "No."
Kono returned to the book she'd been half-reading in an attempt to feign normalcy after his most recent nightmare.
Her cell phone buzzed and she read the incoming text. "Lori said she's going to be stopping by that new barbeque pit that opened up later and wants to know if you want her to drop off some smoked ribs and pulled pork?"
"Tell her no thanks."
"You sure? I heard their food's off the hook."
"I'm sure," he said, struggling to his feet.
Kono tactfully thanked Lori but declined the offer. As he walked across the room toward the door, she noticed Steve couldn't stand fully upright. He checked all window locks in the living room, made sure the curtains were drawn, and the security system was set. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed his service weapon in the waistband of his sweats.
"Hey," she said coming up to him. "I'll inspect the back."
Steve studied her a second before nodding. "Okay."
He set the weapon on the coffee table and painstakingly returned to the recliner. It hurt Kono just watching him lower himself back down.
Walking into the kitchen, she ensured the back door was secured, glad that he trusted her with the task, but increasingly worried about his obsessive need to double check everything all the time. Kono understood the basics of trauma, but that was something she associated with crime victims. And the idea that Steve fell in that category - she gave herself a mental headshake and focused on her objective, yanking on the door a little too roughly.
Returning to the sofa, Kono watched as he fought the urge to sleep. His eyes closed and snapped back open. But Steve didn't read and didn't want the television on, which left awkward stretches of silence.
Since he wasn't really sleeping, Kono closed her novel. "I went to HQ and found the necklace." Kono subconsciously rubbed at her jean's pocket. "I don't understand why you want it," she blurted.
"I couldn't do any more for her."
"Do anything? She lied to us! Lied to you! Led you right to Wo Fat and for what?"
Steve's whole body tensed. "You weren't there."
"So she had a change of heart at the last second?" Kono couldn't stop her words from spilling out of her mouth because the whole thing was bullshit. "I'm sorry, but Jenna doesn't deserve my sympathy. We let her in. Gave her trust and she stomped all over it."
"It's more complicated than that," he responded his voice hollow.
"She handed you over on a silver platter to be..." Kono bit her lip, felt herself lose control.
She had fond memories of shopping with Jenna for Danny's birthday present. Of staying up for thirty hours straight, chasing down bank account numbers and money trails of an arms dealer. Then of the two of them giggling, punch-drunk on coffee, and crying after the caffeine crash.
Kono curled her toes into the floor. She looked over at Steve, watched him stare out at nothing. She hated seeing him like this, acting so un-Steve-like. It made her want to shake him by the shoulders and tell him to snap out of it.
She couldn't stand being inside this cave with its drawn shades and lingering silence.
"I'm going to get some fresh air," she said over her shoulder, but Steve didn't seem to hear.
***
Walking with the ocean breeze was like breathing in calm and she returned a few minutes later. Kono felt like a jerk, but Steve was half-way dozing in the recliner and the only thing he mumbled was something about the alarm.
She stopped to observe him sleep, to see if this time, it was in peace. His eyes didn't twitch and Kono hoped it was a good sign. She sat down and folded up her legs when she noticed the sound of a car engine.
"Who is it?" Steve demanded, startling her with his voice.
"I thought you were asleep?"
He had his weapon drawn by the time a man in a suit exited a black sedan. "If I was a betting person, I'd say this guy was a fed," Kono said looking out the window.
Steve pulled back the curtain and slid the Sig into the waistband of his sweatpants. "Not a fed. CIA."
Kono wasn't sure how Steve knew that, but after a knock at the door, and a thorough check of his credentials, he let the man inside.
***
"I'm Agent Bale, Commander," the man introduced himself, removing his sunglasses. He sweated heavily in his dark suit and tie and wiped a hand over his short-cropped hair. "I was hoping you have a few seconds to talk?"
"Where's your partner? You guys usually operate in pairs," Steve asked, sitting in the recliner.
"Agent Lynch is having a similar conversation with Detective Williams," Bale answered, taking a seat on the sofa. "Could we do this in private?"
Steve sat up straighter, and god that had to hurt, but he hid the pain behind a mask of ice. "I don't work for the agency anymore. You're in my home. My rules. And Officer Kalakaua stays," he said, using a tone reserved for suspects.
The Sig was still in his waistband, and between his bruised face and the hostility rolling of him in waves, Steve looked a little scary.
"Very well," Bale said smoothly. "According to our sources, Agent Josh Baylor had been in the hands of a small group working within the People's Army of North Korea. Did Agent Kaye give you any intel regarding this hostile faction?"
"No."
"Wait." Kono couldn't believe her ears. "You knew who had Jenna's fiancé?"
Bale ignored her, never took his eyes off Steve. "But you reached out to some of your contacts to determine the target's strength before escorting her?" Steve didn't answer and Bale pressed on, unperturbed by the silent treatment. "We got word when you crossed the border, but the question was how did you -"
"Hold up a damn minute!" Kono growled. "You knew who had Josh? You knew what McGarrett was doing?" Bale's defiance and lack of respect only infuriated Kono even further. "You did. And you didn't do a damn thing for months?"
"Classified Black Ops don't exist, Kono," Steve said evenly.
She wanted to yell, 'what the fuck? That's an answer?' But there was something about Steve's expression - not right now - that Kono followed, still fuming.
"Did you get any intel you'd like to share on Wo Fat's operations inside North Korea. Anything he told you?" Bale pressed.
Steve smiled an irrational grin and chuckled. "Just firsthand details of his preferred interrogation methods. I could demonstrate them, if you'd like?"
Steve's didn't have the info Bale wanted or he wasn't willing to share. The realization was clear as day on the agent's frustrated face. "We still need to wrap up a few loose ends. Did you see Kaye and Baylor's bodies?" Steve didn't answer fast enough and Bale leaned his elbows on his knees. "I can't close my files without some type of visual confirmation of proof of death. Were there bodies or not?"
"She died. That's all you need to know," Steve grit out through clenched teeth.
"I need -"
"I don't give a damn what you need. I told you what you needed."
"And Agent Baylor?"
"I didn't see Josh, but Kaye thought he was dead and that's all the proof you're getting."
Bale stood, loosening his tie. "Good enough. Jenna Kaye and Josh Baylor were killed in a boating accident off the coast of Oahu last week. Their bodies were never found." He nodded at Steve and Kono like they'd completed a cordial conversation. "I'll show myself out."
Kono didn't have time to pick up her jaw from off the floor before the door closed and Agent Bale was gone, his dirty little deed complete.
***
The Sig remained on the coffee table within easy reach. Steve told Kono he wasn't hungry when she offered to make lunch, but Kono put two and two together and returned with an icepack.
"Here," she said, standing by him.
"What's this for?"
"I figured you needed it."
Steve gratefully took the icepack and pressed it to the right side of his jaw.
Kono wanted to linger and demand answers and yell and rant. But she went back to the kitchen and grabbed things to make a protein shake so Steve could take his pain pill.
She poured the organic milk in a little too fast. Nearly ripped open the quart of Greek yogurt. All the while, she thought about underground bunkers and jungles and all the times Steve was out there, doing dark and dangerous things for his country, and how that country would have abandoned him if things had gone bad.
Kono thought of her mother and father. Of Chin and her cousins and her family at Five-O. What she wouldn't do for any of them. What she had done for the team. She peeled bananas, chopped them up, and put them in the blender with the cottage cheese. She couldn't push away the images of Chin with the bomb strapped around his neck and how they all pulled together to save him.
Locating the honey, she added a couple spoonfuls and turned on the blender, listening to it drone. Kono remembered Jenna's frantic call on speakerphone, how they used the signal to track down the bunker.
She returned with two large glasses and sat on the side of the sofa closest to the recliner. "Jenna should have come to us. We would've -"
"She didn't think she had a choice. She was trapped. The CIA had to deny all knowledge."
Had Kono become tone deaf? Because Steve sounded like he was miles away and by the look of his vacant eyes, maybe he was.
"Were there bodies or not?"
Kono couldn't believe such callousness and disregard. Couldn't fathom treating human beings like numbers on a piece of paper.
"Whatever happened to leave no one behind?" Kono asked, her throat dry.
Steve rested the ice pack on his leg and looked up at her with eyes that had seen too much. "Sometimes, it can't be helped."
Josh and Jenna never made it out of North Korea.
Kono looked at Steve, at his sacrifice beaten all over him, and she wanted to keep the flame of hate alive. But it wouldn't fix things.
Jenna had betrayed them all, was responsible for hurting Steve, but did she and Josh deserve to be just erased like that? Made not to exist for convenience's sake?
Once again, Kono was left wondering about the fairness of it all. She would do anything for family and knew what it was like to have her back up against the wall, forced to accept a deal from the devil to protect those she loved, walking the line between conflicting principles. It was nearly impossible to reconcile her anger and sadness.
Glancing up at Steve, she saw a glimpse of real emotion behind his eyes, raw and unfiltered. She'd become accustomed to seeing that force of nature.
She pulled out the necklace from her jean's pocket. "I forgot to give this to you."
Kono walked over and put the silver chain into Steve's palm, his fingers closing around it.
Kono couldn't help it; she bent over and gently wrapped her arms around him, held Steve close until he relaxed a little. "I'm glad we got you back," she whispered in his ear.
Kono knew she couldn't erase North Korea, but maybe she could help make it a faded memory.
***
Chin spent the last few days in meetings and the rest of the time with Malia. After stepping off that cargo plane, he couldn't stop running home to make love to her, waking up with her warm body pressed next to his. He needed her to help ease away the endorphins and spiraling emotions of the rescue. Having an anchor helped him deal with what he knew happened in that bunker. Because when he fell asleep, he'd see dead bodies hanging limply in chains.
After calling it quits at HQ, he called Kono for an update on things, and for the second day in a row, she ended the conversation with, "You gonna drop by anytime soon?"
It was after eight at night and Malia had the late shift. If he took the next turn, he'd be at McGarrett's in less than twenty minutes. He swung by the drive-thru of the local juice bar and grabbed the wheat grass and ginger drink Steve mainlined in the mornings.
Parking his car in the familiar driveway, he balanced the tray of drinks while pocketing his keys. By the time he reached the porch, Danny emerged in the doorway. "You psychic?" Chin asked in amusement.
"No. Super SEAL has his sonar jacked to the max," Danny grumbled, leaving Chin to close the door behind him.
Danny made a beeline for the sofa and threw his hands up in annoyance. "Why did you turn off the TV? I hate moping around in silence."
Steve sat on the edge of the recliner in a worn blue button up shirt and black sweatpants. Chin tried not to stare at the exhaustion that framed Steve's face or how the dark shadows under his eyes amplified his cuts and bruises.
"It was too loud," Steve mumbled.
"Too loud? Any lower, it'd be on mute. And it was National Geographic. No explosions or car chases, just the quiet chirping of Mother Nature." Danny stomped off into the kitchen, returning with an armful of stuff. "Does your head hurt? Because if it does, you should have of told me instead of just sitting there like a goof."
Steve's agitation was obvious in the tension of his shoulders, the way his eyes scanned and rescanned the room. "My head doesn't hurt," he said, getting up.
"Where are you going?" Danny demanded.
"Checking the alarm," Steve yelled back.
Chin set the drinks down on the coffee table and glanced at Danny. "You call this recuperating?"
Danny rolled his eyes, arranging gauze and tubes of medicine on the other half of the table. "He's been crawling the damn walls since I got home. Rearranges stuff in the kitchen, makes sure the books are all sitting just so. And this..." He grabbed the Sig lying on a small desk and stuffed it inside a drawer. "It's like childproofing the room. He's giving me angina."
"Sounds like you both need to chill."
"Whatever. He just took his meds; it'll be a few minutes before they kick in."
But it was more than that and Chin wondered how many wounds had been scraped raw by the CIA visit Kono told him about.
Steve crossed the living room and into the kitchen, bypassing the recliner, his gait a slow prowl.
Chin just stared as, feathers ruffled, Danny held up the medical supplies, shouting, "Hello? You checked the back door when I got home. Nothing's changed, I promise."
Heedless to Danny's ranting, Steve wiggled the knob, pulled back the window curtain, and started the tedious trek back.
"Come on," Danny sighed louder than necessary. "What do I have to do to you to get you to sit down and keep still? Put you on a leash?"
Steve went stock-still at his words, his body rigid.
Chin wasn't sure what happened, and by the look on Danny's face, neither did he. But Steve wasn't with them right now, his eyes vacant and hollow. Chin moved then paused, not wanting to crowd him. Not knowing what this was.
Danny was ready to hold or corral or support Steve in any way, but kept his distance. "Hey, babe, you with us?"
Steve looked straight through them and Chin heard him mumble under his breath, like he'd employed some coping technique. Chin gestured at Danny, who practically vibrated with worry. "He'll be good. Give him a sec."
"I'm...I'm fine," Steve said clearly lying. "Just...
Danny must have sensed something because he moved into Steve's personal space, his voice unusually quiet. "I think we've had enough conversations about you and standing because, really, babe. You suck at it right now. And yeah, I know, you can run a mile in a second flat and free climb Mount Everest, but for the next couple of days, let's practice sitting."
"I'm sick of sittin'."
"Yeah, well, I'm sick of this island heat, so now we both have something we can't change to complain about." With a hand on Steve's arm, Danny led him to the recliner with all the deft and gentle care that belied his words. "You know this wouldn't have happened if you'd left Animal Planet on."
Danny prattled on, his chiding tone soft and lazy. Steve all but sank in the chair, visibly calmer. Danny didn't stop his litany, his words a soothing cadence as he peeled away the bandages on Steve's wrists. "Don't think I'm not racking up the partner points here. I expect you to do all my paperwork for weeks, even if you are the boss. And let's discuss vacation days, shall we?"
Chin watched Danny meticulously wash each wrist using a sponge and a bowl of water, then carefully apply antibiotic ointment to the raw gashes before wrapping each one in fresh bandages. All the while, Steve rested there, occasionally opening an eye to watch.
It suddenly dawned on Chin that Steve let Danny do this. Allowed his partner to feel like he helped in some small way.
Everything must have a limit because just as Danny fumbled with the topical burn cream, Steve caught his arm. "I'll take care of the rest."
"You sure? Because..."
"Yeah," Steve breathed, pulling himself straighter. He had this woozy look about him, but even as the pain medication hit his system, he was unwilling to yield full control. "I'm good."
Clearly in full mother-hen mode, Danny stood when Steve did, but stayed put as his partner grabbed the medical supplies. Steve glanced at Chin, thanked him, and headed toward the bathroom.
When the door closed, Danny held his head between his hands. "He's going to put me in an early grave."
"You did good, brah," Chin told him.
"Yeah, I did such a fucking fantastic job. Triggering...whatever the hell that was."
Chin thought back to the moment Steve froze. With fear. Shock even. Chin couldn't help it; he had cop instincts. And he thought about Danny's words during that moment and the possible conclusion was a puzzle he didn't want to solve right now.
"Even McGarrett's not immune to trauma. When stuff like that happens, we need to be prepared on how to handle it. And from where I was standing, you took care of it like a pro."
Danny's cell vibrated and he scrubbed a hand over at his face before looking at it. "It's Rachel. Grace is in her first play tomorrow night. She's going to be a sun-daisy."
Chin gave him the biggest grin. "That's awesome."
"Yeah, awesome," Danny said glancing at the bathroom.
Danny's stress and exhaustion were evident in his voice and the heaviness of his shoulders. Steve leaned on him a lot and that type of pressure, that weight, was horribly draining. Danny was an amazing friend, bearing the brunt of Steve's frustration, allowing Steve to lash out at the only person he could trust to handle it.
But Danny needed a break from such responsibilities.
"Go," Chin told him. "I'll come by tomorrow night and keep an eye on things." Danny hesitated and Chin wouldn't give in. "We're talking a few hours. See your daughter's first play. If Steve found out you missed it, he'd be pissed."
"You're a life saver," Danny breathed in relief.
It felt good that Chin could help in this small way, for both of them.
"Don't sweat it, brah. I want to. I'll come by after work," he told him. "Besides, it's my turn."
***
Crime didn't stop because your leader was in the hurt locker. A tip on an ongoing money-laundering racket came through from an old informant and now Chin had a new list of offshore accounts to track down. He was drinking lukewarm coffee at his desk when a network message popped up: Requested upload is now complete.
Someone rapped at his door and Danny poked in his head in Chin's office. "I'm back from my meeting with the Assistant DA regarding all our pending court cases."
"Yeah?" Chin looked at his watch; it was already after four in the afternoon. "That started at what? Ten this morning?"
"Yes, well. I can thank the governor for such a fun-filled day. I get to look forward to round two on Monday."
"I have even worse news," Chin said, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Someone gained access to our system a couple of hours ago and transferred some data to an offsite computer."
"What? How?"
"Wait," Chin said, tracking the ISP. "It wasn't hacked; it was...what the hell?"
Danny stood over Chin's shoulder. "Since I can't read all that gibberish on screen, you care to translate?"
"Steve logged in remotely from his laptop and downloaded about thirty different files."
"Steve did what?"
"He uploaded everything and anything pertaining to Wo Fat." Chin sighed, not surprised. "I'd say right after you left for work."
"Does he think he can play detective from home?" Danny ranted. "And do what? Magically locate Wo Fat? Use a laser guided missile and take him out?"
"Who knows, brah," Chin said, leaning back in his chair. "McGarrett isn't used to being sidelined."
"Yeah, well, most sane people call it recovering. Of course, that requires things like taking it easy and I don't know - resting." At Chin's quizzical look, Danny sat on the corner of his desk. "Last night, he went to his room upstairs. And his floorboards creak. I think he was awake more than asleep."
"Kono was going to hang out over there today, maybe I'll..." But Chin's words were cut short by the appearance of his cousin in the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Um...Joe and Wade dropped by to visit McGarrett," Kono said, her smile vanishing at their intense expressions. "After thirty minutes of the most awkward small talk, I told them I'd give them some time alone. You know. Do the military bonding, buddy thing. Thought I'd drop off a late lunch for you guys. Why? What's wrong?"
"What time did they come over?" Danny asked.
"Around three."
Shutting down the computer, Chin gathered his stuff. "I'll find out what's going on."
"Want me to come with?" Kono asked.
"No, I'm good. I'll let the computer run my program. Besides, you've done your part the last couple of days." Chin stabbed a finger at Danny, who was about to tail him. "Enjoy Grace's play. I promise if anything major comes up, I'll call."
He blamed paranoia coupled with a heavy case of protectiveness, but after this last week, Chin had no problem giving into both.
***
After the third knock, Joe answered the door wearing camo fatigues and a neutral expression that was hard to read.
"Hey," Chin greeted him. "You off early?"
"Kind of," he said evasively. "My class was canceled. Wade and I were going out for lunch and thought we'd stop by and see Steve."
There was an air about Joe White, a shrewd confidence from years getting things done, sharing the least, and gaining the most from others.
Chin wouldn't get a single shred of info from the man that he wasn't willing to share. "I'm sure Steve appreciates the company. He's going a little stir crazy."
Joe's mouth twitched. "He was never really good at resting up. Dedication to the job took precedence. Helped him keep focus."
Wade walked onto the porch and slipped on his sunglasses. "Detective Kelly, good to see you again," he said, then nodded at Joe. "I've got to get back to base."
"I'll meet you in the truck." Joe gave Chin a wan smile, allowing days of weariness to show in his features. "Your team did a helluva a job this week. I'm glad Steve has you guys to watch his back. But more importantly, to draw strength from."
"Is there anything I should know about before going in?"
"Just that Steve can get a little ahead of himself," Joe told him with a clap on the shoulder.
It was a quiet warning without betraying Steve's confidence, giving Chin only the barest preparation.
***
Walking inside, he scanned the empty sofa and recliner. "Steve? It's Chin." He drew open the curtains, spreading sun throughout the house, making loud purposeful steps walking around. "Steve?"
McGarrett could be in the bathroom or sacked out after having visitors. But Chin's gut said otherwise. He found Steve behind his father's desk in his office, tapping a pencil against a yellow notepad, looking all the world like his old man when he'd been sucked into a case.
Chin debated knocking or calling out Steve's name again, but the floorboards creaked under his shoes. Steve's body tensed at the noise. Chin wondered wildly how many ways Steve could kill with a pencil and the thought sent a chill down his spine.
Steve flexed his hand, his eyes flicked up, and narrowed at Chin. "How'd you get in here?"
"Joe and Wade let me in when they left."
Chin could tell a lot about a person by their eyes: micro-expressions, pupil dilation, gaze. Steve was assessing him, weighing and sizing up his words. He leaned back in his chair with a wince and pushed his notepad away, but didn't say anything.
"Whatcha working on?" Chin asked casually.
Steve huffed out a breath and waved a hand across his desk. "Trying to build an algorithm."
"Perhaps you should use your laptop for that?"
"I like to work out the differentials by hand first."
"I'm guessing we're talking about control tables and not machine code?"
"Yeah," Steve mumbled, pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes. "I'm having trouble with the..."
He quickly nabbed his pencil and scribbled in the notebook, writing with a flourish and stopping just as quickly as he began. Steve regarded his notes, his brow furrowed.
"Does this have anything to do with the files you downloaded earlier?" Chin asked without getting an answer. Steve was lost in thought, a couple days of scruff blending in with the bruises and dark circles under his eyes. "Maybe you should take something? You look like you have a headache."
"I need to focus."
Recalling the time that the files were accessed from the network, Chin knew Steve hadn't taken anything since he woke up. Chin eyed all the messy flow-charts, half-erased and written over. Steve was knee deep in something and Chin knew this was about push-pull.
"What are you running an algorithm on?"
Steve cupped his chin. "One I used in Naval Intelligence to track down terror cell movements."
"Do you really think Wo Fat uses a pattern?"
"People make mistakes."
"And some people can make all the right decisions in the world and be blindsided." Chin watched Steve contemplate the yellow pad like the answers would magically appear. "Do you really think this will work?" But it was like talking to a statue. "Steve?"
"I've got to find him," Steve said without looking up. "I've got to make it mean something."
Chin wanted to ask Steve what it was, but he didn't think even Steve really knew. Jenna's death. Steve's torture. His parents' murders. Or the accumulation of over twenty-years of pain buried in secrets.
"I could call Lori. With her background in Homeland Security, she might -"
Steve snapped up his legal pad and stood, his chair rolling out from under him. "This is a private investigation."
It wasn't the fatigue or pain etched in Steve's features that alarmed Chin. It was the anger. The mistrust.
He debated what to say, with what tone of voice, when he noticed the Navy forms on the far end of the desk. "What are those?"
"Just some paperwork," Steve dismissed, stuffing the forms under a folder. Chin quirked an eyebrow in a cut the BS gesture and Steve sat back heavily into the chair. "I asked Wade when he came over if I could take part in additional training exercises with some of his teams."
That was the last thing Chin expected to hear. "Why?" Steve didn't look at him and Chin wouldn't let him off the hook that easily. "You thinking about returning to full service?
"No," Steve swiftly denied. "But my reserve duty is only one weekend a month."
"Because running the governor's task force doesn't keep you busy enough?"
"This will help Five-O."
"Really?" Chin poured on the sarcasm. "Learning the latest in disarming IEDs and sneaking aboard nuclear subs is going to help improve evidence gathering?"
"I have access to tools and training second to none," Steve argued, his voice low. "I should take advantage of it."
"Is this really about how to raid our next warehouse in the most efficient manner?"
"As team leader, I need to be prepared to handle any possible emergency. You guys depend on me and those who I swore to protect depend on me. It's my job."
God, did Steve really hear himself?
But Steve wasn't ready to listen to the other possible reasons why he latched on to the idea of training more. Not yet. Chin knew when to cut his losses.
"Look. Let's order an early dinner. Maybe take it onto the lanai. When was the last time you've gone outside?"
Steve was caught off guard by the question, but he hid it by grabbing his pencil again. "I need to do this."
Push-pull.
Chin came here to help, not provoke. "Okay, brah. I know a little about algorithms. Two heads are better than one. Show me the Navy Intel way and I'll see what I can do."
Steve finally relaxed in his chair and glanced in surprise when he realized he'd snapped his pencil in half. "There's a cup filled with pens on the shelf behind you. If you want to grab a few, I'll show you where to start."
***
Chin took Steve's search pattern analysis and tried meshing it with the program on the laptop. Except Steve's handwriting was illegible and trying to get him to explain his process was challenging when he couldn't recall it.
"God damn it!" Steve growled after staring at his notes for several minutes.
"If this were easy, then they'd let anyone into Naval Intelligence," Chin consoled him.
Steve balled up his fourth or fifth piece of paper and threw it in the trashcan. "I used to do this stuff for hours on end and now I can't even keep up with my train of thought for more than a few minutes."
"It's getting late and you're not exactly firing on all cylinders." Chin rubbed at his eyes, a tension headache working its way between his temples. "I'm going to order some take-out."
Checking his watch, Steve blinked fuzzily at the time. "Have you heard from Danny?"
"He went to see Grace in her play."
"It's almost ten."
"I'm sure they went out to a celebratory dinner."
Steve stood up and used the edge of the desk to push off into a slow, painful gait. "This is way past Gracie's bedtime."
"It's Friday night," Chin argued, following Steve into the living room.
Steve paced back and forth, repeatedly calling Danny on his cellphone."Danny isn't answering," he growled, hitting speed dial again. "Try yours."
Arguing with Steve in command mode was fruitless so Chin dialed and hit Danny's voice mail as well. "I'll text him to call us."
After he hit send, Chin looked up; Steve was on the sofa struggling to put on a pair of work boots.
"Whoa. What are you doing?"
Steve tugged on the laces of his left boot. "Got to... find Danny."
"Hold up. We don't even know if he's in trouble," Chin told him. "Look. I'll call HPD. Get them to trace his signal. Let's think before we do anything rash."
Steve stood up and reached into a desk, pulling out his Sig. Chin pocketed his phone and moved to stand directly in front of him. "Stop and think a moment. Getting into your car half-cocked won't help things. We have no direction to go, no intel."
His words weren't getting through to Steve and the thought of trying to physically restrain him was something Chin was afraid would injure them both in the process.
But the noise of a car engine changed the game and Chin beat Steve to the window, his heart thudding in his chest. "It's Danny," he said, entering the alarm code.
Danny entered and took one look at both of them and threw up his hands. "What the hell is going on?" He pointed an accusing finger at Steve. "Why are you armed and dressed for a jog?"
"You wouldn't answer your cell," Steve growled.
"No. Because Rach and I took Grace to that new seafood place with these giant fountains where my giddy daughter dropped my cell into the water during a very aggressive game of Angry Birds," Danny said with a roll of his eyes. "Now your turn."
Chin could tell Steve had reached his limits for the night. "Everything's fine. Just a false alarm." He tried defusing things, noticing the white paper bag in Danny's hand. "Hey, is that leftovers?"
Chin could tell Danny wanted to continue his rant but he was far too perceptive for that. He could see as easily as Chin how frazzled and washed out Steve appeared. "Yeah. Baked Cod with lemon. Let me guess. You two didn't eat dinner?"
"We were a little busy,” Steve said.
"Busy? Doing what? Because busy usually means working." But Danny must've sensed the tension in the air, as he set his sights on his partner. "I swear. How did you function before I took over your sofa? Are you sure you commanded a SEAL team?"
It took all of two minutes for Danny to roll in, secure Steve's weapon, and get him to sit down. "You do remember that I am detective and I carry a service weapon and a back up? I know how to handle myself out there in the big scary world of seeing my daughter in a play."
Steve grabbed Danny's arm in a steel grip, the muscles in his forearm bunching in knots. "Don't ever let your guard down. You hear me?"
"I won't," Danny said, his voice sincere. "Promise."
Chin saw Steve's gaze shift to his and Chin sat next to him, taking his shoulder. "Always, brah."
With the crisis averted, Danny gestured at Steve. "Have you seen a mirror lately? You're a mess. And I'm going to take a wild guess that you forgot to follow your pain med schedule. You know the instructions on the bottle are not a suggestion."
Chin got to his feet, feeling every long hour of this day in his bones. He'd tell Danny about Steve's extracurricular activities in the morning; no need to wind him up any more than he already was. But for tonight, he would leave Steve in capable hands.
***
Conclusion