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“I am so sorry,” Cath said, eyes huge and wet with unshed tears. “I should have told you.”
She meant it with every fiber of her being, Steve saw, and that was what he’d come for. The difference between Catherine’s regret and his mother’s lack thereof nearly socked the breath out of his lungs. He couldn’t speak, had his mouth on hers before she could say anything more, hands holding her at a slight distance. For a moment it was good, it was familiar.
But there was too much going around in his head. He needed … he didn’t know what he needed and that might be most of his problem. He’d never been in a place like this, with the blows coming at him nonstop for the past couple of years. He’d never needed comfort from an emotional storm; he’d never stayed still long enough for any emotion but the anger of defeat and its counterpoint, the thrill of success. Steve broke the kiss as quickly as he’d started it, pulled Catherine close to him, desperate for her to fill the gigantic chasm Doris had reopened. His mother’s return should have filled that space inside him, not made it worse. He buried his face in Cath’s sweet-smelling hair.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” Cath said after a moment, her arms slender but strong as they slid around his back, held him up.
It, he, wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity of okay. He didn’t know how to deal, and tried to let himself go numb the way he used to be able to do so easily. The amount of work it took was astonishing to him, as his mind vaguely, slowly transitioned from all-encompassing pain into a near total lack of cognition. He stumbled after Catherine as she led them back toward their cars, pushed him gently into the bucket seat of her Stingray, then they were driving and he didn’t care where as long as it was somewhere safe. He remained mute, as pliant with her as he’d ever been with anyone.
Two and a half years ago, he’d been certain that his father had never had time for him and his mother had gone tragically to her grave with love in her heart for her family. An hour ago, he finally gave in to the horrible, sinking feeling that had plagued him since her return into his life, that his mother was incapable of genuine emotion, and once again his world refused to make sense. Steve sighed as he felt his shirt being tugged off, his shoes and pants. His head hit a soft surface, a pillow lightly scented with cherries, something familiar and calming. He wasn’t tired, but he let the comfort soothe him into a light doze. He heard Cath move about the room, then faded into actual sleep.
Steve couldn’t say how long he slept, but it wasn’t the light of morning that woke him. Beside him, heat radiated off of Catherine and when he twisted to look at her, she was awake and watching him. For a few, too-brief seconds, he didn’t remember what had led him to her bed. Then even in the dimness of the room couldn’t prevent him from seeing the sadness in her eyes. It hit him all over again, with such fierceness he wondered if it would ever get easier. He was struck by an old memory, a wisecrack Danny had made about him never being held as a child. Suddenly, it felt as though that were precisely true. He covered his eyes with his left hand, relaxed only a hair when Catherine fitted herself under his raised arm and hugged him tight.
Catherine kissed his neck, nuzzled him with her nose and if it were any other night, the progression from comfort to sex would have been natural. The problem was, the comfort so far hadn’t quite done its job and his brain’s momentary respite in sleep was over. He couldn’t stay unconscious forever and wanted so much to give in. He ran a hand down Cath’s back, absorbed her body heat into him, but that was as far as he could go. He had to tell someone, at last, what was buried deep inside.
“She never,” Steve said and choked on his own tongue. He swallowed a few times at the way Catherine simply tightened her hold even more. “Cath, I don’t think my mother ever loved me.”
Cath stiffened noticeably at the admission, her whole body freezing. She lifted her face from the crook of his neck, shifted to put some space between them. She lay a hand on his chest, pulled further away and switched on the bedside lamp. In the soft light, she looked beautiful, hair mussed and tank riding up her belly just a little. She also looked troubled.
“Steve, why would you think that?” Catherine asked. “She’s your mother.”
In most parts of the world and in most families, the words mother and love were synonymous. Steve got that. He’d just never experienced it. Since Doris had come out of hiding, childhood memories had replayed in his head and he realized he’d done an effective job of romanticizing them over the years, the glory days when his mom and dad were both alive and they were a perfect family unit. In hindsight, knowing now what he did, he couldn’t be sure how much of Doris’ actions hadn’t been part of some ruse. A means to an end, as she bided her time to get back into the game. He didn’t want to think these things, but…
“Tonight, she told me that the only thing that meant anything to her was the microfiche cataloguing all of her missions.” Steve’s voice was as dull as his head and heart were now. He stared at Catherine’s elbow for a second, then lifted his face to hers. “She hid them in our home, Cath. For years. What kind of person does that?”
Catherine looked at him, miserable, and his stomach felt cold and solid all of a sudden.
“There’s…” Catherine winced when she flicked her eyes tentatively at him, and immediately looked away. She chewed her lip for a moment, gave a tiny shake of her head and let go of him. She sat, brought her legs up and draped an arm across her knees. “There’s something else you should know.”
“What?” What more could there possibly be?
“When I was trying to help your mom with Mangosta, she turned the tables on him, got the upper hand. I’m not sure, to be honest,” Catherine said, and she sounded terrified. “By the time we, I tracked her down, she had him strapped to a chair and was torturing him for information. It took a bit of effort to get her to stop. Steve, I … I think she would have killed him.”
Any comfort Steve might have been given and had taken gladly shattered into pieces. He could only really focus on certain words. We. Torture. It was all more lies. He didn’t … this was never going to end. He understood this omission of Catherine’s as well, he truly did, but it was one more thing. One more nail and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t be there. He rolled off the bed, searched the room for his clothes and struggled to get his arms and legs in good working order. Vaguely, as if she’d suddenly ended up on the opposite end of the world from him, he heard Catherine saying more words, pleading. He held up a hand, turned to her only when the shaking had stopped and he’d gotten his feet into his shoes.
“No.” Steve looked at Cath, still on the bed but kneeling as if in penitence. “If this hadn’t happened, if Doris’ safe hadn’t been broken into and I hadn’t told you I knew she was lying, would you have mentioned it? Were you ever gonna tell me any of this?”
The hesitation of words stuck in her throat was the only answer he needed.
“This is over,” he said.
“Steve, no. You don’t mean that,” Catherine said. She reached out a hand. “It was a bad decision not to tell you.”
“Yes, it was.” Steve took several shaky breaths. “I don’t blame you. I don’t. I know better than anyone now how my mother can manipulate and bully. But you know me, Cath. You’ve known me as I am now longer than she has, and you…”
“And I thought I was protecting you,” Catherine said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’m just not that sure it’s enough. You know me.” Steve’s eyes were hot, vision blurry and in this instance, it was better that he couldn’t see. “You know I’ve been lied to my whole life and you made that bad decision anyway. If you did it once, you could do it again, and I can’t take that risk right now. I can’t.”
He strode out of the bedroom and out of the house, Cath’s voice calling out to him as walked with no clear destination in mind.
H50H50H50
It was more than a motto. Steve had survived finding out his mother didn’t love him and that Catherine’s love wasn’t enough to keep her from lying, the lows and even lowers, and had come out the other side relatively intact. In the grand scheme, these were paltry things. Spending that night on Makapu’u, staring out onto the low surf and waiting for the sun to rise, he’d come to realize there was one thing he could do for the short term: carry on the way he always did. He’d throw himself into work and hope it would prove enough of a distraction for his frenzied mind, until he could settle once more into a new reality. That was a plan of which he was both familiar and well-versed. Everyone had their patterns, he thought. For example…
“Are you insane?” Danny hissed with so much force it sounded like he could rupture something.
It wasn’t unusual for Danny to yell at him, but this was different. With Danny, there was always an element of melodramatics to sift through in order to understand the proper level of emotion. Not today. No filtering required. Steve knew Danny was genuinely pissed, not just irritated and hiding his fear behind harsh words. And he knew it had been days of build-up to get to this point, which was too bad but not entirely his problem. He almost relished the way Danny had worked himself into a froth, which probably meant there was too much Doris in his DNA. He tried not to frown.
“Do not do what I can see you’re thinking of doing.”
He responded to Danny’s frantic warning with a grim smile and then he broke cover. Contrary to his partner’s very vocal beliefs, Steve knew what he was doing. He knew when to take chances and when to hold for police protocol. He thrived on this on good days, needed it to keep his mind off all the other shit in his life today. When it came down to it, he was the only one he could count on and if that faith in himself faltered, he was done for. Here and now, and in general. It was a lesson he’d learned long ago but had let relax these last few years, being surrounded by good, capable people. People he could trust, until he couldn’t anymore, and he knew now that betrayal was inescapable. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.
He ran, swift and sure, straight for the perps. The problem these days was that everyone thought they were marksmen because they played video games. Real life wasn’t a game. One of the shots came awfully close, pure accident, but most of them were wild. It lent an air of unpredictability to the situation, and Steve countered it by being unpredictable himself, not holding any particular pattern. He was in a zone. A few more steps and he … behind him, he heard Danny curse. Shit, he’d counted on Danny staying behind cover, as usual.
“On your right,” Danny said.
Steve ducked, heard the bullet ping off a barrel and the loud retort of Danny taking the guy out without pause. He turned to give a head bob of thanks to his partner, had barely made it halfway when he saw movement from the same direction the first guy had been. He brought his gun around, aiming and firing. A massive punch drove him backward and he was falling, confused in that singular moment, the air dusty and hazy around him. His vision burst with bright light as his head smacked into the floor.
Okay, he thought as he faded into semi-consciousness, maybe he didn’t always know what he was doing. Heavy weight pressed onto his chest, restricted his breathing and he knew instinctively it would pass soon. It just might not be soon enough, and he didn’t know how he felt about that. Steve closed his eyes, to regroup and get moving. Shove the pain aside, like he had been trained to do. Thunder roared in his ears, one long thrum and then silence. He opened his eyes, found Danny’s angry, red face above him.
“You fucking asshole, you do this again and I’ll kill you myself,” Danny said, anger now tempered with that underlying fear he usually had. He reached out to pat Steve down with care. “Jesus Christ.”
Steve tried to sit, but met the immovable force that was Danny Williams. Under normal circumstances, he would have brushed Danny aside, rolled to his feet and worked out the worst of the kinks taking a bullet to the body armor caused. Under these circumstances, he was too weary. Knowing his partner was there watching out for him, one of the few things he could count on, always, he allowed himself to drift as everything around him became a bustle of cops and EMTs, Chin, Kono and Max. He didn’t even protest going to the hospital to confirm there was no internal bleeding. He just … removed himself from it and stayed where he was protected.
H50H50H50
It was one thing to throw oneself into work to avoid personal demons. It wasn’t the only path he could take, and the other road struck a lonely chord in him at the mere thought. Steve closed his eyes, wished for an easier life, a life where his mother hadn’t faked her death and his father hadn’t ultimately died because of it. The fantasy was a weak one that he rarely engaged in for the sheer pointlessness of it.
“Hey,” Danny said, somehow immediately behind him.
Steve didn’t jump, or flinch, or acknowledge Danny in any way. If his luck would just hold a little bit longer, his partner would read his body language and leave him alone. But Danny was Danny, and he made a big production of sitting in the other chair and setting his own six pack of beer on the table.
“Figured you’d be going through a few of these, even though alcohol has to be contraindicated for you at the moment.” Danny snagged a bottle, twisted the cap off and fiddled with it for a moment before flicking it onto the table and sending it spinning like a top. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”
“What if I do, Danny?” Steve snapped. He set his half empty beer down and rubbed at his temples. No concussion, just a good hard knock, and the beer wasn’t helping.
“Then that would be too bad for you,” Danny said. “I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight.”
Steve snorted, which Danny returned with one of his own, then settled back into a slouch, saying no more. They sat for quite some time, mute, and after a while it started to make him nervous. Danny was many things, but the strong silent type was not one of them. He sneaked a glance over, wasn’t too surprised to see his partner staring straight at him, or that Danny didn’t alter his gaze at being caught. If anything, his expression became more resolute. Despite himself, Steve was comforted by Danny’s presence and wondered how Danny did it, made him relax simply by being there. It had never made much sense to him, that thing Danny possessed and had since the day they’d met; he’d grown accustomed to it. Grown too reliant on it, perhaps. He looked away, first at his hands, then back out to the blue, blue water.
“Okay, remembering that it was not too long ago that I tried to hammer home to you that in a friendship, there is no your when it comes to problems, I decided that whatever was going on with you, I’d give you the time and space to sort through it first,” Danny said, holding a hand up as a preemptive means to keep Steve from speaking. “Surely, I thought, Steve knows he can come to me. But you didn’t, and today you did something monumentally stupid which could have gotten both of us killed – mostly you – and I realized this was a mountain and Mohammed kind of situation.”
“Danny.”
“Anh. Don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been off for a few days. If I do the math, which, yes, I can do, I’d put it back to the day your mom’s place got broken into.” Danny scooted forward, reached over and clasped Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not going to force you to tell me anything, man, but I feel like I have to reaffirm that you can. Your problems are my problems. Anytime.”
The last thing Steve wanted to do was go over it all again, actually. Living with it was bad enough. If he closed his eyes even now, he could see his mother’s face when she realized what she’d admitted and couldn’t come up with a way to wiggle out of it, and Catherine’s wrecked face when he had realized what they couldn’t be together right now. He turned to tell Danny that, no, he didn’t want to talk, but another look at that earnest face, the sharp blue of Danny’s eyes practically begging him to speak, and he was suddenly pouring it all out. To his credit, Danny didn’t look away once, and kept his hand firmly on Steve’s shoulder throughout the sordid details. Fingers tightening, digging into muscle and tendon and collar bone every once in a while, were the only evidence to Danny’s thoughts.
And when the words exhausted themselves, Steve, too, was beyond tired. He leaned both elbows on his knees, ducked his aching head down.
“Fuck,” Danny said after a heavy moment of silence. “That’s…”
“Yeah,” Steve said, voice hoarse, tissue paper thin, and he felt that familiar, hot prickle of impending tears. He would not, and didn’t know why it was hitting him like this now. The headache, the deep, throbbing pain of a bruise. His defenses were down. “So, that’s that.”
And that was when Danny exploded into a more recognizable version of himself, launching to his feet and storming to the edge of the small beach. He stayed there for a second, body held rigid, muscles tense, then he turned around and the fury on his face was expected.
“That is not that. You know, your mother, I get that one. I haven’t said it in so many words, but I know you know I have never been fond of her. I never expected it from Cath, though.” Danny sank back into his chair. His hands flew about in a rolling motion. “Did she say why? You gave her the chance to explain, yeah?”
Steve sucked in a long breath, waved his hand in a half-hearted imitation of Danny’s gesticulations.
“She thought she was protecting me. I think Doris intimidated her into it.”
“Doris,” Danny said. “I said I wasn’t fond. What I meant was I think she’s a terrible, terrible human being.”
The good son in Steve told him he should protest that. He stayed silent. If anything, this verbal attack of Danny’s patched up the parts of his proverbial wall that had been stripped bare since he’d left Catherine that night.
“You’d like my mom, I think. Remind me to introduce you someday, so you can know what a real… no. Sorry. That isn’t the point. Jesus, Steve. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this shit less than you.” Danny lay a hand on Steve’s forearm and squeezed. “Cath’s a good person. Maybe you just need time.”
“Maybe. I don’t know,” Steve said. He shook his head and felt more mixed-up than ever as far as Catherine was concerned. He’d hashed it all out in his head many times over and it wouldn’t completely reconcile. There were always spare pennies. Enormous trust issue sized pennies. “There isn’t a doubt in my mind she did it for good intentions. I’ve already forgiven her. I just don’t know if I can trust her again.”
“Do you want to?” Danny asked flatly.
Steve snapped his head up, and the expression on Danny’s face was oddly unreadable.
“People are people, McGarrett. They make stupid mistakes from time to time. This one was a doozy, but you said it yourself; her intent wasn’t rooted in a bad place.”
“You think I should just go on as if nothing happened?”
“I did not say that. I just … if Cath means as much to you as I think, you might want to cut her some slack. Give her another chance.”
Steve pursed his lips. He knew this wasn’t a black and white issue. Very little about his life resided outside the grey, the exceptions – so far – being Chin and Kono and Danny. Absolutely, he realized, and unequivocally, Danny. And shit if he hadn’t considered pulling away from all three of them as well, expecting that somewhere down the road, they would turn on him. The idea of fleeing before it could happen was both compelling and horrifying.
“Danny, I … Cath and I …” Steve ran a hand through his hair, fingers brushing against the bump on his head. “Just, I keep getting stuck on one thing. Catherine knows me better than just about anyone. She’s had my back, undoubtedly. I know she loves me and I know what I feel … felt for her.”
Danny just looked at him for a few seconds, something oppressively blank in his usually expressive, open eyes. Steve realized Danny’s hand was still on his arm, grip strong, supportive.
“If you loved me and you learned the things Cath did, would you sit on it until you had no choice but to say something, or would you tell me straight up?” Steve asked. He knew it wasn’t a fair or easy question, and he already knew the answer.
“I could tell you that there’s no way for me to put myself in that situation and know what I would do.”
Steve nodded, disappointed.
“That wouldn’t be true, though. I’m no saint. I can’t make a solid case for being a pinnacle of honesty, given that I am the moron who slept with his married ex, okay?” Danny said, with an accompanying grimace. “I feel I have to disclaim all of that before I say that under no circumstances would I not tell you something like the fact that your mother is the target of some major international bad guys and, oh, yes, that she’s got sociopathic tendencies herself. Immediately. Believe that.”
There was no reason to do so without question, and yet. And yet, Steve did. The relief coursing through him left him weak. He sagged back into the chair, his arm pulling free from Danny’s hold. He missed the touch.
“Danny.”
“Shit, look at you. You should be resting.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay, I … really needed to hear that.”
“Then I guess my job here is done for the time being,” Danny said, with a sad little smile. “But in the interest of truth telling, you should also know that there is no ‘if’. There hasn’t been for a while.”
Steve blinked, momentarily confused. It cleared up some when Danny stood, leaned close and pressed a quick kiss first against Steve’s forehead and then, crooked and sweet, to his lips before stuffing his hands in his pockets and moving away without another word. Steve touched his fingertips to his mouth, tried to process and couldn’t quite get there. He twisted to look at Danny’s retreating form, and then suddenly, without consciously deciding to be, he was right there, grabbing onto Danny’s elbow.
“You can’t just,” Steve said, leaving the thought incomplete.
Except almost since the day Danny had entered his life, he could just anything.
Five days ago, Steve had been certain about so many things in his life – his mother and Catherine being among them. Ten seconds ago, everything turned upside down and once again his world refused to make sense. He could not let himself be vulnerable again. Couldn’t take the chance. His heart pounding, he studied Danny’s face and what he saw was a reflection of his own doubts and fears, and also naked, raw affection.
Steve yanked Danny to him, wrapped his arms around a man built for carrying heavy loads, tucked his face against Danny’s neck and took that chance anyway.