Okay – this is a silly little thing that came to me one night. I don't usually like crossovers – too hard not to raise one excellent fandom above the other – but I couldn't resist. I had to see what would happen if John and Steve ever met, and then I had to add in some whump. I hope you enjoy. (ke ku'I means 'crossover' in Hawaiian, Ke kanaka means person)
oO0Oo
Ke Kenaka of Interest
ke ku'i
by PapayaK
oO0Oo
"I know, Finch, but he can't wait that long. I need to get him out of there."
The voice in his ear replied, "I understand your point, Mr. Reese, however- Detective Williams and his team are en route. I really think it would be best if you let them handle the situation."
"I agree, that would be best." John answered, "But they've been torturing the Commander for hours-"
"He's a former Navy Seal. He's trained to resist-"
"Resisting isn't the issue, Finch. I don't care how tough you are, there's only so much the human body can take."
There was a brief pause as Finch was painfully reminded that Reese knew from personal experience, exactly what he was talking about.
John pressed his advantage, "He will be dead before they get here." A pause, "I won't let that happen."
Finch hadn't wanted him to come to Hawaii. But Commander Steve McGarrett's number had come up. As they had learned about who this man was, Reese had realized: here was one of the good guys. Here was someone the world could not afford to lose. Finch had correctly pointed out that the 5-0 team were quite accomplished at taking care of their own, but John wasn't willing to take a chance.
He was right.
Here in the present – in an abandoned Hawaiian warehouse, John could just imagine the shake of the head, the pursed lips as Finch made one last protest. "What about you? You are gravely outnumbered. How will you-"
"I got this, Finch."
oO0Oo
oO0Oo
McGarrett was yanked back to consciousness with a sudden intake of breath. "Wa' app'n?" He knew it was bad. He knew he was injured. And he knew he wasn't alone. Everything else was lost in the fog that clouded his throbbing head. He cleared his throat and tried again, "What happened?"
"You'll be fine," a gravelly voice came from somewhere to his right. An unfamiliar voice, but one that was also somehow reassuring.
McGarrett blinked, trying to clear his vision. At the moment he wasn't sure the voice was right. He was weak. He hurt. He felt more desperate for a friend than he cared to admit. "Danny?"
"On his way," came the calm but cryptic answer.
His vision beginning to clear, McGarrett could just make out a tall man with dark features crouched in readiness near him. The guy was obviously not his enemy, but was he a friend? "Who're you?"
"Concerned third party."
Steve shook his head and instantly regretted the motion. Unable to remember for the moment, what had happened to him, he did a quick inventory. His head hurt. His gut hurt. His chest burned with every breath. He could feel bones grind whenever he shifted position. He was bleeding. Field bandages seemed to be keeping the worst under control, but they were quickly becoming saturated. Had the stranger applied them? That was the only thing he was sure of: this guy wasn't a threat.
Where was his team?
He coughed, the taste of blood in the back of his throat.
"Stay still."
Now, on top of everything else, Steve was annoyed. Who was this guy? Telling him what he needed? Of course he should stay still! The mysterious stranger was as bad as Danny. Just less vocal. He began to protest-
Then a fist was raised, and Steve automatically responded, going silent and still. They were in danger. And he still couldn't remember what that danger was.
As he stayed alert for whatever the man sensed, he thought hard. Through the pain, the fog cleared. He now recalled the events that had brought him here: A gang from the mainland, New York by all reports, had moved in and were bringing more guns and drugs to the islands than all the previous gangs combined. Five-0 had gotten some intel and were trying to formulate a plan. McGarrett had been on his way to meet them when he'd been captured. The leader, Adebayo, had been torturing him to find out what they knew. He'd been at it for a few hours and Steve was beginning to wonder where his team was. Did they even know he'd been taken? He had suddenly realized there was no reason they would even miss him for hours yet. He'd just been mentally preparing himself to endure no matter what when the room had exploded.
Exploded. That was how he had ended up here. But that still didn't explain the stranger who crouched watchfully, handgun held ready in one hand, the other slowly reaching for the MP-10 slung over his shoulder. Had he caused the explosion? It would certainly explain the positive change in McGarrett's circumstances. He reached out with his good arm and tapped the man once. Glancing back at him, his dark eyes narrowed slightly before he acquiesced and handed over his back up weapon.
oO0Oo
"Mr. Reese, are you alright?! Was an explosion really necessary? I have reacquired what cameras are still functioning. In spite of the numerous casualties caused by your bomb, you are still surrounded and outnumbered. Five-0 is only minutes away. Hold your position if you can." Finch's desperate worry was all too clear in his voice. At least he knew enough to understand that John could not risk responding verbally.
oO0Oo
There were voices. The New York accents giving away the identities.
McGarrett knew the stranger was reluctant to engage. They were outnumbered, had poor position and he was too injured to be much help. He'd also figured out who this guy was – not his actual identity of course, but he was definitely former military, most likely special forces, and a stranger to the islands. His movements, hand signals, and choice of weaponry made the former obvious. The fact that he was dressed in a formal black suit made the latter quite likely.
The voices faded as the men moved away. The stranger relaxed slightly and spoke in a gravelly whisper. "I'm good, but I can't say as much for the Commander."
Before Steve could ask who he was you talking to, the man turned to him and asked, "Can you move?"
"Not fast." McGarrett responded, reluctant to admit how weak he was. "You blow up the place?"
His mysterious companion's eyes resumed scanning their surroundings. "Your team was on its way, but they were going to be a little too late. Had to get you out of there... The numbers were not in my favor." He glanced back. "I heard you like to do things a little… recklessly." Looking down at Steve's injuries the voice softened just a bit in apology. "I hope I didn't make things worse for you."
McGarrett stared. His current injuries had all been caused by Adebayo but were most likely exacerbated by the explosion. Given the alternative, however, he wasn't going to complain.
Plus he had to admit – the explosion, although a crazy idea, was exactly what he would have done. He kinda liked this guy. "Nah- you're good." He shook his head again, more carefully this time, "Who ARE you? How do you know all this?"
The stranger paused his scan and regarded him for a moment. "You're one of the good guys."
"And you're not?" Steve challenged.
The look he received was all he needed. He instinctively wanted to argue the stranger's line of thought, but before he could speak, the man put a finger to his ear, listening.
Then he nodded once and turned to face Steve. "Your team's here. Adebayo's dead, but you'll have a lot of clean up to do. Good luck." And with a last glance to be sure it was clear he rose. "You've got a good team there." And he looked over to where the entrance used to be.
There was a storm of gunfire and light as Five-0, led by Danny, took the opening. "Steve!" He yelled as he searched the darkness for his friend as well as any remaining threats. "Steve!" His voice gave away his near panic at the thought that Steve had also been killed in the explosion.
"Here" Steve croaked. He looked back at the stranger only to find that he was gone.
oO0Oo
Later, as he recovered, Steve would learn what had happened. An anonymous tip had come in which had let his team know his whereabouts. A truly anonymous e-mail that was completely untraceable, even by the best techniques Five-0 had at their disposal. The only thing they could determine was that it had originated somewhere in New York. It had not only told them where Steve was and what Adebayo was doing to him, but it had also included several files detailing all the illegal activities of the gang – in New York and on the Islands, and all the connections between the two.
It was everything they needed to do a complete clean up. Everyone even remotely involved was arrested, tried and convicted. Five-0 was very pleasantly surprised by the level of cooperation with the NYPD task force, led by a Detective Fusco.
Steve had launched his own investigation into the identities of the stranger and his partner. He knew there had to be at least one partner as evidenced by the earbud to which he'd obviously been listening. He'd found nothing. Even when they investigated the explosion itself it had become obvious that the stranger had only made use of what Adebayo had available. And he'd left no prints.
Steve had thought sure that the weapon the stranger had given him would provide a lead, but when he looked up the serial number, he found that this particular gun simply did not exist. Anyone with the resources to make that happen was formidable indeed. He found himself thankful that the stranger appeared to be on the side of the angels.
Once, while on the phone with the NYPD Detective, Steve, on a hunch, had asked about his rescuer. Fusco had paused, chuckled, and commented cryptically, "Had a run in with the 'man in the suit' did ya? Welcome to the club."
"But who is he? And how do I get in contact with him?"
"Yeah – good luck with that…" Fusco paused and then continued ruefully, "Be careful what you wish for."
"It just seemed like maybe he needed a friend, is all." Steve commented more quietly, suspecting this Fusco knew more than he let on.
There was a long pause. Then, "He does. But it ain't gonna happen. Give it up, McGarrett. Seriously. Best if he does his thing and you do yours, okay?"
"You sure about that?"
There was another long pause and Steve was glad to know he was, at least, considering his answer carefully.
But he was to be disappointed. Fusco's answer was simply, "Yeah." Followed by, "We all got a part to play in this – and yeah – we don't always like it – but we gotta do what we do: Keep putting bad guys away. You take Hawaii – we'll work here." There was a brief pause, but before McGarrett could question him further, he continued, "You want answers about this guy – you ain't gonna find 'em. Believe me. You will only know what he wants you to know. And, trust me – that's okay." And then he'd hung up.
McGarrett had no intention of giving up, but within the hour he had a new case that took all of his attention. And life went on from there. In quiet moments, he still wondered sometimes about his savior, but he eventually came to accept that he would never know more than he already did. And as the detective said, that was okay.