Disclaimer: Hawaii 5-0 and all of its characters belong to Peter Lenkov and CBS Studio Productions.
So, I was sitting here at work (I work overnights, so it provides lots of thinking time. That's dangerous for someone like me...) and I realized something about myself. A week ago, a friend looked at me and said "I think you have a McGarrett complex", and I realized that...I think he might be right...
I thrive in the midst of chaos, but I also have a tactical brain and I tend to not process things before just acting on them, which can come off as reckless. I also have that very militaristic demeanor, having grown up in a Navy household, marrying an Army man and having three friend that are SEALs coupled with the fact that I'm going to be a cop doesn't leave much room for anything else.
Basically, thinking about all of that, I decided that I wanted to try my hand at this, but with my busy schedule I will probably only be able to update once a week or so, so you'll have to bear with me.
Undisclosed location
23 October, 2001
0330 hours
"Barnett, get everyone on that damned plane, or so help me God..." Steve snarled. The younger, hispanic man simply glared back at him and shook his head firmly.
"I don't think so, Commander. You're coming with us. Leave no man behind." Barnett snapped, popping above cover for a moment to fire a couple of rounds at the group of men that were currently riddling the crates in front of them with automatic weapon fire.
"That is a direct order, Ensign! You will get on that plane, and you will get these men home! Do I make myself crystal clear?" His light eyes flamed with rage as Barnett opened his mouth, presumably to argue again, but the look on his face stopped the protest on his tongue.
Barnett sighed and motioned for the rest of the team to follow him on his mark. McGarrett counted to five on his fingers so that they could all see, and then straightened to his full height, dropping cover fire for his team. The other five men bolted across the air field, shooting a few rounds from their own weapons before diving into the open belly of a cargo plane.
"C'mon, McGarrett!" Barnett bellowed, hanging out of the airplane and firing at the men once again. Steve waved him off and ducked back behind the cover. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
"I knew what I signed up for, Barnett! Don't worry about me! You guys just get home, I'll see you stateside!" Steve replied, dropping the magazine from his weapon and patting the pockets on his BDU pants, searching frantically for another mag. He hissed out a breath when he realized he was out of ammo.
The sound of the proppeller on the plane was loud as his team sped down the runway, ignoring the ping of bullets hitting the plane. The heavy sound of boots hitting the ground caused a tightening in the pit of his stomach.
He crouched, flexing his hands before balling them into fists at his sides. He was prepared to fight those bastards until he stopped breathing, but the click of a .45 behind his skull had him freezing and lifting his hands above his head slowly. He sighed and straightened, allowing the man in front of him to strip him of all of the potential weapons on his person.
"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," Came a thick accent from somewhere behind him. One of the men slapped heavy, metal handcuffs onto his wrists, tightening them just shy of being dangerously tight. "You're a very hard man to find. I'm glad to see that you could finally join us." He felt himself being turned to face the man that was speaking to him.
He was short and rather portly, his stomach protruding over his large gold belt buckle, and he had his dark hair slicked back with more hair product than Steve had ever seen his mother or Mary use. He wore a stark white suit, with a gold chain hanging around his neck and sweat dripping off of his face into the creases of his neck. His pudgy fingers were adorned with large rings.
Steve cocked his head to the side slightly, trying his damndest to figure out who the man in front of him was.
"S'that right?" He questioned, wincing when the man behind him yanked on his handcuffs, jarring his shoulder. "Yes, that's right. We've got some business to attend to." Steve was about to respond, but he was abruptly cut off by a black bag slipping over his head, plunging him into total darkness.
They shoved and prodded him as they led him through the damp wetlands of the jungle. Steve was led over rickety wooden bridges that swung low too much as he stepped on the boards and through crowds of trees with leaves that were so sharp that they sliced through his forearms.
The man that had been leading him by his bicep shoved him into a dark, dank building and forced him into a shaky metal chair. They tore the bag off of his head, and he squinted, trying to adjust to his surroundings.
"Commander, we need to have a discussion." The pudgy man was speaking to him again and a tall, thin man chained his hands to a rusty table. "I need you to tell me everything that you know about this man." He held up a small picture of a man that Steve had never seen before.
"I don't know who that is."
"You know, I'm not a patient man, McGarrett. There is only so long that I'm going to wait before I have to start taking action."
"I'm telling you, I've never seen that guy before." Steve snapped, glaring at the man. The pudgy man gestured to the taller man, and the door to the room opened. A short figure was shoved into the room, a bag over its head as well. Steve's heart dropped to his feet as his eyes roamed over the figure. He knew that frame anywhere...
"Danno." He gasped as the bag was torn off his partner's head. It vaguely registered in the back of his mind that he should not know who Danny was. This was years pre-Danny. What the fuck was happening?
"You going to tell us what we want to know?" The pudgy man asked again, tugging a gun from the waistband of his pants.
"I already told you, I don't know who it is! Just let Danny go!"
"Fine. You don't want to cooperate, we'll see if you feel differently after this." And with that, he placed the gun to Danny's head and pulled the trigger.
"NO!"
"Steve! Steve!" Steve startled awake, his hand automatically reaching for the night stand where he kept his service weapon. Danny's hand closed over his wrist and pinned both of his arms over his head, holding fast as his partner tossed and turned beneath him, choking out sobs of panic. "Hey, hey, hey, it's me. It's Danno. C'mon, Steve, calm down. It's just me." Danny soothed, running his thumb over the pulse point on the inside of Steve's wrist.
"Danno." Steve called out, shaking his hands from out of Danny's grasp and wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist. "Don't let me go, Danny." He sobbed into the crook of Danny's neck.
"I'm right here, Steve. Right here." Steve felt Danny's hands running over his back slowly, the contact calming him slowly. It wasn't the first of Steve's PTSD induced dreams, it wasn't even the first one involving Danny, but they never got any easier. Danny always held him until he calmed down enough to fall back to sleep. "What happened?"
"They," Steve paused to swallow around his dry tongue. "They had you, Danny. They shot you."
"Oh, babe." Danny whispered. They sat that way for a couple more minutes until the shrill sound of Steve's phone cut through the silence between them.
"McGarrett."
"Steve, have you guys seen the news?" Kono's voice was panicked and immediately had Steve on high alert. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and jogged downstairs, Danny in tow behind him.
"What's going on Kono?" Steve questioned, even as he was picking the remote up and flipping through the channels until he reached the news. "Oh my God." He breathed. Danny's breath hitched and he laid a hand on Steve's shoulder.
"What do we do, Steve?" Kono questioned through the phone in Steve's quaking hands.
"I...I don't know, Kono. You get Chin and meet me at the house. We'll figure it all out. Danny and I are going to go get Gracie, Rachel, and Stan. I've got a fall out room. We'll regroup here in one hour." He clicked his phone off after Kono agreed and hung up. Steve ran a shaky hand through his hair before pulling Danny tightly to him.
"C'mon, babe, let's go get Gracie. It'll be okay." Danny muttered, pulling away and swiping the Camaro keys off the table as they sprinted out of the house. They didn't even bother to turn the television off, leaving the loud siren coming from the tiny speakers going and the banner in bright red flashing across the screen.
The United States has been invaded.
32 states are no longer under US control.