Trust

Summary: Things between Steve and Catherine end in a bad way after he finds out that she's been withholding information on his mother. That should have been it, but neither had counted on fate to keep dragging them back.

Pairings: Steve/Catherine, some OCs mixed in for a little (or a lot of) drama and misunderstandings, maybe some Danny/Gabby, Kono/Adam

Chapter 1: Cracked

"You lied to me! You withheld information – on my own own mother!"

He'd hissed at her, inches from her face, not two minutes after she'd gotten home that night. Catherine was trapped between Steve's rigid body, sizzling with furious energy, and the wall against which he held her by her shoulders. His grip was strong enough to be painful; it would leave marks in the morning. That's how she knew that this was for real, that there was no point in trying to fight with him over this. He was too mad at her, and had already made up his mind. They'd fought before, but he'd never been violent, at least not towards her, and to be quite honest, this darker side of him scared her a bit. Knowing that resistance would only ignite his anger further and may spur him to do something drastic, she relaxed in his grip. She became pliant to signal that she didn't want to fight.

"She asked me not to tell you about her and Mangosta. What was I supposed to do?", she asked him as calmly as she could while her heart was racing inside her chest. He was so mad, and she was afraid of losing him.

"Tell her no?!" Steve's voice had gone up incredulously, wondering how she could even ask about something so obvious. He felt betrayed. He'd always thought he could trust Catherine, and now it turned out she'd been lying to him for months. "Instead of lying to me."

"I didn't lie," she insisted, though it was a technicality and it would only make him angrier. At this point, she didn't think it really mattered anymore, but she was desperate for him to know that she would never lie to his face. "I may not have told you everything, but I wasn't lying, and if you had asked I would have told you."

Steve huffed, but let her go. Something flickered over his face, and Catherine's gut clenched when she thought she could identify it as disgust. He moved away from her, stepping back and raising his arms up in surrender. He was bristling with anger. He couldn't even look at her as silence encompassed them in the twilight of the room. He'd left most of the lights out, only one lamp shining dimly in the corner, creating an interplay of light and shadows along the walls. When he finally looked at her again, his demeanor was calmer, but she could still sense the anger boiling underneath the surface.

"Is that supposed to make it all better?", he asked, chuckling humorlessly. "You didn't tell me, but you wouldn't have lied to me if I had asked. What else haven't you told me about, because I didn't ask... Who else..."

He let that accusation hang in the air, watching as it was her turn to bristle. Her eyes narrowed at him in anger at the insinuation.

"I'm not gonna dignify that with an answer," she told him, gathering what was left of her self-confidence and pride around her like a shield.

"Then you can go."

She wasn't surprised by this turn of events; she'd been expecting something along those lines ever since this conversation started. When he'd told her that he'd hired a private detective to track his mother, she'd been aware that this fight was a possibility, though she'd still had confidence that Doris wouldn't reveal herself since she'd made Steve's old friend as a tale on the same day the man had gotten started on the job. Clearly, Mick had been more successful with a direct approach. Pressing her lips together, she grabbed her purse. She was glad she'd never left much here in the first place; Catherine didn't think she could endure having to pack it all up in this unforgiving silence.

Steve turned away from her. He was shutting her out, obviously expecting her to just leave now that everything was said and done as far as he was concerned. Well, he had something else coming, then. She wasn't done talking yet. They'd known each other for seven years. He could at least afford her the courtesy of letting her explain herself. He owed her that much. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, and because she was in desperate need of oxygen from having forgotten how to breathe for a bit there, she took a step closer to him. She was standing beside him now, and he turned his head away from her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"She asked me to keep her secret, and I said yes. Maybe I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry that I hurt you with my choice, but I'm not the only one who withheld information, am I?", she asked him. "I read about your imprisonment and escape in the newspapers when I got back. I found out about your trip to North Korea when I heard about Joe White's court-martial through the Navy grapevine. I was told about Wo Fat's involvement in the murder of your father and the purported murder of your mother when you asked me to help you protect her after he escaped from prison, and it was Danny who told me you'd been to Japan to find Shelburne."

She paused to let it sink in.

"You may think that none of this affected me personally, but you're wrong. You were involved in every one of those cases, and that made it personal for me. And I'm tired of your double standards," she informed him quietly. "I didn't tell you about what your mother had gotten up to with Mangosta, because you'd only just found her again, and I didn't want one of the first things you learn about her to be that she was capable of torturing someone without batting an eyelash."

Seeing a shadow move in the corner, she turned towards it, and saw Doris come to a stand in the doorway to the kitchen. If she'd been there the entire time, the woman had probably heard their whole argument loud and clear. She must have also heard the dislike in Catherine's tone of voice when speaking about her actions when the Navy officer had found her. Steadying her look on Doris, and not backing down, she made it clear that she had meant every word, before turning on her heel and making her way to the door. Just before she exited the living room, she turned back to her friend and lover of seven years once more.

"Goodbye, Steve," she whispered sadly.

When he heard the door click shut, he made his way slowly to the nearest window overlooking the street. He watched as Catherine made her way to her blue Corvette, which, contrary to Danny's Camaro, he'd never been allowed to drive. Unable to take his eyes of her form, he was left looking out even minutes after she'd driven away. Steve rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window, hoping it would calm the burning inside of him. He was mad as hell at her for lying to him, and for having the gall to argue semantics in regard, but sending her away had cost him a great deal of strength, too. He was still torn between his rage and the wish to call her back and hold her to him, asking her forgiveness for the way he'd treated her.

Especially in the beginning. He'd never felt such an all-consuming rage as when he'd faced her earlier. He'd always trusted her, and when it had turned out that she'd gone behind his back, the ground had been ripped out from beneath his feet. In his anger he'd let his control slip, and turned forceful against her. He could still feel her shoulders in his hands as he'd squashed her against the wall. His fingers had dug into her skin, and he was sure she'd be bruised tomorrow. He had known while it was happening that he was hurting her, but he'd been unable to feel remorse or compassion. The guilt only hit him when she'd gone completely lax against him, and looked at him as if waiting for him to do whatever he pleased with her. As angry as he'd been with her, he'd been disgusted with himself. That was not how he'd been raised to treat women, much less someone he cared about. And he did care about Cath, even if he'd lost sight of the feeling for a bit. He could see the indentations where his fingernails had dug into her skin as he backed away.

He'd retracted his hand and put several feet between them, hoping it would be enough to make him refrain from hurting her again. He'd fought down his anger to a less dangerous level, but it had raged and boiled in wait just underneath his carefully constructed facade of calmness. He couldn't forgive or forget, not so soon after her betrayal. Maybe he'd never get over it, but he needed time to process it, and he wanted her gone and away from him for the time being. He could barely look at her. He'd counted on her, and she'd let him down. Had helped her mother in lying to and deceiving him. He couldn't understand how she could do that to him. Her explanation seemed like an array of jumbled words. He understood what she was saying, but the meaning didn't sink in. It didn't mean anything; it was not a good enough reason.

Is there a good enough reason, he wondered.

"Steve?", a feminine voice asked him, and he was involuntarily reminded of her parting words. Her tone of voice had sounded so defeated, so final, and yet so full of love, it had made him shudder. She'd said she was tired of his double standards; the admission of her personal anguish at his troubles had touched him, reminded him of their deep connection. At the time he'd just been trying to protect her from the darker aspects of his life. When he'd still been a SEAL, he'd never told her about his missions (classified as they were), and she'd never asked. She simply held him and comforted him. He hadn't considered that his change in lifestyle might require a change in policy, so he'd never talked to her about work unless he needed her. Now she was tired of his double standards. Maybe she wasn't simply accepting of his sending her away, but likewise fleeing from his presence...

"Steve?", the voice spoke again. He felt a hand coming to rest on his upper arm, and looked down to see it was his mother's. "Don't blame her. She'd just seen me electroshock someone. She wasn't thinking clearly. I used that to make her promise me that-"

"Don't," he warned his mother, lifting a hand to shut her up, and shrugging off her touch. "Don't make excuses for her. She's not as helpless or impressionable as you may think she is – as you're making her out to be. She could knock you down and tie you up, and you wouldn't know what hit you until after she's done. She deliberately betrayed me. I can't trust her, and that means I can't have her in my house."

"Steve."

"As a matter of fact, I want you gone, too. First thing in the morning. You died. This hasn't been your house in twenty years. It's Mary's and my house now, and I want you to leave."

End of chapter 1!

A/N: This story is gonna start off in a very different style from my other H50 story. I wanted to experiment a little, so the fanfic is going to be of episodic nature for a while. Don't worry, though, we'll get to a more wholesome storytelling later on.

I base Catherine's lack of knowledge on Wo Fat on the season 1 episode in which Steve's chap box gets stolen, and he says "I speak to the people in this room... and to my sister". The people in the room with him were Danny, Chin and Kono which excludes Catherine. Question is didn't he tell her to shelter her, or because he didn't think she was important enough to know?