I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: This isn't entirely done, but well on its way. Likely 3 chapters.

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

Steve would never forget the shattered look on Charlie's face the day he and Danny had tried to explain that Steve and one or two others in the Reserves had been called back to Active Duty. They never even got to the why of it ... why his Uncle Steve had to leave didn't matter. Only that he would leave had been plenty. As a teenager, Grace had taken the news in stride. She'd been more angry than upset at first. But Steve could never forget the way Charlie's face had crumpled, a microsecond before his eyes had filled with tears. A millisecond before those tears had spilled over his cheeks, lips trembling. The little boy had been inconsolable and had stayed that way right up until the day his uncle had been re-deployed for a few weeks; Steve didn't doubt that Charlie still was just as upset. And since Charlie was a miniature version of his father, down to the same quirky expressions, Steve also knew that Charlie was outwardly mirroring his father's hidden feelings. Danny's initial grim look had been the only reaction.

Charlie was his father's barometer in many ways. The child's reactions could be the outward reality of his father's truest feelings. Steve knew that because Danny held everything buried deep inside where Charlie was far too young to have such filters. Danny's inability to eat properly or hold a modicum of even a subdued conversation were the only other hints. Things Steve recognized if no one else bothered to try. If anyone bothered to pay attention, they'd know that Danny was crying on the inside as much as his son was blatantly on the outside.

There'd be no Christmas for them. Steve knew that Danny would try for Charlie's sake. It probably was going to be a dismal failure though and there was nothing Steve could do about it and he felt entirely responsible.

As he monitored the covert team's egress to their clandestine location to retrieve something - or someone - a thing he wasn't even wholly privy to, Steve kept Charlie's frightened blue eyes right there. He clung to them even as he quietly confirmed status and relayed orders and instruction from the missions' commander because this time, Steve was the acting second in command.

Sparing a moment for Charlie, Steve physically shivered as he eyed the monitor and automatically relayed a scarily ever-changing status. No one on the ops team would doubt Steve's focus though. His eyes were sharp and his tone firm. He was engaged and on track. Nevertheless, the bone-deep chill wasn't due to the mission. He hadn't felt warm since leaving Oahu. He'd been cold both inside and out since receiving his orders and so, he refused to allow himself to forget the shattered look on Charlie's face. He intentionally kept that sad memory in the forefront of his mind as he monitored the days left on his plate until the the mission would officially end. Four. Just four more days to go he tallied easily as he relayed coordinates reconfirming the target's location. The differences in himself from before were startling though and he knew it. Days and hours never quite mattered as much to him as they did now. He'd never done this before - lived with this kind of end in sight. Not like this at least. He'd never had a family quite like this to go home to and unbeknownst to him, his expression softened all the while his highly trained and professional conscious mind digested the video transmission it was watching on the monitor in front of him.

"McGarrett?" The operations' Commanding officer asked. "Confirmation ... is this it?"

Eyes narrowed, his nose inches from the screen, Steve nodded. "That's it. The smaller building to the right." He'd been called in as a subject matter expert for a particular site. Though ravaged by time, the small outpost was as he'd remembered it. Their target would be in the primary building and likely its covert small basement.

"Copy. Coordinates are a go," Steve confirmed to the near-silent S-3 Ops center. The special operations center was actually a small room at a US military base far away from where the actual SEAL team had been deployed. As he validated the location, other orders were given and he watched the distant team react in kind. Danger was high and they had minutes to achieve their goal. However, Steve was almost sinfully safe as he watched the SEAL team through a somewhat murky video feed. For a brief moment, he felt a familiar itch as he watched the action taking place before him. He'd been there before - this place in the southern-most sector of Korea - and was practically back there again. Tense and on edge, he watched through others' eyes, their eerie silhouettes sometimes appearing an odd shade of green and he blinked in surprise as he forgot about that short flare of jealousy. A glint of metal. A brief sparkle of light. Suddenly, the soft light from the video feed wasn't as eerie as it seemed because he was reminded of someone else.

Of ... Danny. Of the stocky silhouette back-lit by Christmas lights strung across the fireplace mantel, blond hair mussed as he tried to walk his son back to sleep in his arms. A little enough boy that was just a bit too big to be held and rocked like that while his father patiently paced the floor at nearly three o'clock in the morning.

That had been almost twelve days earlier ... and Steve shook himself back to center hard as muffled gunfire echoed through to the ops center. Curses erupted around him and he focused hard on the rapid change in activity. He checked the time and counted heads, ticked off voices, and listened hard to the SEAL team's verbal exchange.

"Copy that. In ten," he noted when the volley ended as abruptly as it had begun. Air Force combat search-and-rescue helicopters were already in the air for the team's retrieval. There was only one chance to hit their objective; grab their target. Get out. Leaving no man behind. Ever.

"In eight. Get a move on," Steve stated as he calmly relayed the SEAL team's confirmations.

Steve heaved in a lungful of air and hid a frown as the SEAL team used a small incendiary to expose a cavity in the lower room. Two small boxes were in the cavity, covered in dust and badly dented. Each was quickly stowed and in an organized rush, the SEAL team began their retreat.

"Target acquired. Confirmed," Steve reported. "Copy ... extraction in five."

"Step it up people," the Commander demanded. "Bring it home."

"S&R in two," Steve said as he relayed the helicopter's status and rocked his jaw at activity honing in on their remote team from the north. "Hostiles incoming." Of course it was expected, but he didn't have to be happy about resistance. None of them did. The chatter increased tenfold within the room, amongst the team and between the two groups. They wouldn't let it become chaotic though. Every word ... each syllable had a concise intent.

"Bring it home!" The Commander demanded once more and Steve failed at hiding a wince. "McGarrett? Problem?"

"No Sir," Steve spat out quickly. He was mad at himself as he hunkered down, his nose virtually glued to the monitor. Nevertheless as he listened and gave orders of his own, Steve's demeanor belied some of his stray thoughts and his eyes seemed to glisten wetly in the dim light cast by the computer monitor. He ached inside to go home too as another chill swept down his spine and oddly enough, settled round in the pit of his stomach. He'd gotten a radio-controlled helicopter for Charlie for Christmas - really, it would be from Santa. But still ... Steve swallowed hard, fighting to quell an unwanted surge of emotion as the combat chopper's pilot radioed in. He'd paid a few extra dollars to have the customer service desk at the mall wrap it for him, too. The box was in the trunk of his father's car in the old shed. Danny didn't even know about it. The gift wouldn't be under the tree. It would be late and maybe too late at that because once he got home in four day's time, it would be a full day after Christmas had already happened. And that would only be if the military mission wrapped on time inclusive of the debriefing.

Steve bit back a sigh as the memory of Charlie's teary face flashed across his mind's eye. He couldn't help it.

Charlie. His hair had caught the reds, greens and whites from the softly lit Christmas lights strung across the fireplace mantel. Steve had stood there for as long as he'd dared; as long as he could without risking being late for the rally at Pearl. Neither Charlie nor Danny had known he'd been watching them from the hallway, soaking them in just before needing to leave.

Home never sounded so good.

Listening as the extraction of the SEAL team commenced in earnest, Steve wearily thumbed the space between his eyes where an ache settled in with a subtle thump. He barely took part in the satisfied hooyahs as the mission came to a near close. Not a single injury, nor a single man left behind. It mattered - and it mattered a lot - but Steve's real thoughts percolated still even as he paid attention to their next orders which would have them evacuated to a destroyer poised in the Sea of Japan. After? That was being shared on a need to know basis; intel that was still very limited and even Steve was in the dark.

~ to be continued ~