Love Is Not Enough
Disclaimer: I own neither the series, nor any names or locations you may recognize from Oahu.
Summary: Wo Fat is on the loose and looking for a way to destroy Steve. He decides the best way is through Catherine, even if they're not together anymore – because sometimes love is not enough.
Extended summary/ Author's note: I'm going to start the story off slowly to build up some suspense with a bit of bittersweet Steve/Cath heartache in the middle, before we get to how Wo Fat is mixed up in this.
The premise of the story is that Steve and Catherine broke up under, for now, unknown circumstances ('cause I'm evil). Not sure when in the series this is set. Probably sometime in season 3 when they've had a bit of time to spend together and potentially discover obstacles in their relationship that had been absent before due to the rare occasions they were together.
If anyone has got any suggestions in regard to the timeline, please let me know.
Pairings: Steve/Catherine, some OCs mixed in for a little (or a lot of) drama, minor Danny/Gaby, Kono/Adam
Chapter 1: Everything
The grip on his beer tightened to the point where everyone at the table was sure the bottle would burst, though he was giving it no attention as his eyes fixated on the scene across the room. It stayed intact for the time being, though how long it would be able to resist the man's increasing rage was anyone's guess while his free hand clenched and unclenched at his side. Danny, Chin and Kono exchanged worried glances as their friend kept watching the pair dancing at the other end of the beach bar where they were supposed to have a nice night out. Danny could practically see the cogs turning in Steve's head, could see the inner battle that the SEAL's rational mind was quickly losing. Perhaps it wasn't really putting up a fight in the first place. They'd all noticed the differences in him since the breakup. He claimed to be fine, snapping at them for even bringing it up, and acted pretty much like he always had, like it didn't affect him. He was living for his job, though, putting himself more and more at risk with every case, and had become even more likely to shoot first and ask questions later. Before, she had grounded him. Had given him a little perspective even when she wasn't there. Now...
With a resounding thud, the bottom of the bottle hit the coaster, spilling beer onto the table with its force. Steve was up on his feet with an expression on his face that said he meant business. Instantly, Danny was on his feet, too, hoping to stop him from doing something stupid, when a hand on Steve's arm made both men pause. Steve turned to the person attached to the offending limb, ready to warn Danny off, but blinked once he realized his mistake. Danny blinked, too. He'd completely forgotten they were there as well.
"Don't, boss. I though you two broke it off," the guy said. He was a head taller than Steve, and at least as broad and muscled. Even the trainers, cargo shorts ending just underneath his knees and the Hawaiian shirt he was wearing couldn't hide that this guy would be a riot in a fight. Right, Danny reminded himself, Rambo's SEAL team is here on leave; let them handle him. He sighed. It was supposed to be a nice evening out for Five-0 and SEAL Team 3 (1) – Steve's partners, old and new, getting out and getting to know each other. They just had to pick the bar where Catherine would dance with some fancy suit tonight. Lucky them!
"She broke it off," Steve's mumbled reply barely filtered through Danny's resigned brain, though the emphasis he put on the pronoun and the fact that he couldn't seem to say Catherine's name did.
"And you let her go." The answer wasn't harsh, exactly, but nobody could miss the slight accusation it it, or the tone that said very clearly 'your fault', however softly it was spoken.
Steve frowned. "What was I supposed to do, Storm? Force her to stay?"
"Fight for her," the other two SEALs stated bluntly, then Lt. j.g. Michael Storm sighed, gesturing for them to shut it. Fortunately, they did. This line of argument would take them nowhere. He'd try a different tactic. He had a lot of practice in talking McGarrett out of doing something stupid on behalf of Catherine, though, usually, it was so she could have him back in one piece and not to keep him away. Things had changed between them, and even though Catherine hadn't gone into details, it was clear that there was no easy road back for those two. If there was one at all.
Meanwhile, Steve glanced at them with a bewildered expression as if he just realized they were there, sitting at the table with the rest of them, or as if he didn't quite get their meaning. Danny considered for a second that it might be both. He had been rather focused on Catherine since she walked in the door with Fancy Suit and he hadn't really put up a fight during or after the breakup, so it might be the first time that the idea came up. Steve shook his head free, and looked back over to the dancing couple. Fancy Suit was whispering something in her ear, to which Catherine was giggling softly. Danny swore he saw a vein pop on Steve's neck, and decided to intervene.
"Look, what are you planning on doing?", he asked – clearly a rhetorical question – his arms already beginning to fly in every direction as he tried to rant some sense into his partner, yet again."What do you want. To. Do? Walk over there, all SuperSEAL in action, and tell him to get his hand off your girl, hmm?! But she's not, is she? She is not your girl; you two broke up. So you can't. You can't go over there and threaten a guy with bodily harm, for taking out and dancing with a beautiful lady who's single. Single, do you hear me?!"
Suddenly, Danny got a good look at Steve's face, and realized how lost he looked. All at once, he felt sorry for his friend. Steve was going through enough, even without adding his are-you-mad-tone. He tried again more softly.
"Look, let's go somewhere else. This is Hawaii; there are loads of seaside restaurants, bars, pubs and whatnot that serve great food. Let's just..."
"No, you're right," Steve interrupted him, trying to compose himself. "It's just... the way he touches her... it's not exactly..." He clearly didn't want to use the word proper as he had no business using it in regards to Catherine, and it sounded childish anyway, but it was clear that that was the intended meaning.
Michael looked over. "She's not complaining."
"I know that!", Steve snapped, at his comrade or at himself, who knew. "Look, it's just that his hands-"
"Are fine where they are. They never strayed from her lower back, " Michael told him, then pointed to the other two SEALs. "Kitten is like our little sister. You know that if he were just trying to cop a feel, we'd cue up to punch him in the face, and she'd be first in line. She wouldn't let anyone manhandle her like that. The guy would eat through a tube for the rest of his life."
Steve nodded, reluctantly, and they went back to their drinks. For now.
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McGarrett thought he was being stealthy, but Michaels knew his former commanding officer long enough to know his tricks. He noticed almost immediately when Steve decided to try a different approach. He noticed the furtive glances Steve kept directing at Catherine and her companion, and the subtle way in which his friend tensed up when the guy got too close in order to whisper into her ear. The fact that Steve wasn't marching over there indicated that he would try talking to Catherine at an opportune moment, though. Michael sighed. He better be close to make sure that there wasn't any blood, specifically McGarrett's.
And it starts, Danny though, as Steve excused himself to the bathroom seconds after Catherine had stood up from her place at the bar. He was a detective after all. A glance at Chin, Kono and the SEALs told him that everyone was aware of how badly this could end. He waited a couple of seconds, then got up to follow Steve. Storm, he noticed, got up at the same time. A look passed between the men, and Storm smirked, patted him on the shoulder and gestured for him to lead the way.
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Steve knew his friends were worried about him. Their entire dinner had been a feast of fake cheerfulness and stolen glances in Cathrine's and his' direction. He understood, rationally, that they were just looking out for him. They didn't want him to get into a fight with her or her stupid Fancy Suit.
They didn't understand how he felt, though, not really. The breakup was fresh, only a few weeks old, and while he understood all her reasons; had basically handed them to her himself; he couldn't fight the feelings that bubbled up seeing her there with another man. It made rage, anguish and helplessness rise to the forefront of his emotions. Storm had been only partially right. He hadn't simply let her go. He had all but send her away. She'd been the one to say goodbye first, but he'd all but pushed her to come to that decision, even when he hadn't wanted her to leave for a second. Now that she was gone, he should be fine. He should be able to handle it, but he missed her every day. He immersed himself in 5-0 to get away from missing her so goddamn much. Whenever he caught a break and couldn't distract himself anymore, or when he got home at night, he felt like he'd cut out a part of his soul and let it walk out the door with her.
Seeing her with some random white collar made it worse. The way the guy held himself screamed 'civilian' who'd served at some time in his life, probably to enhance his career chances. Those were the only ones who postured themselves to look like military, but maybe that was why she'd chosen him. Maybe she wanted someone away from the military, away from her and his lifestyle. Someone who was so fundamentally different that it wouldn't remind her of them when she looked at him. Maybe she was hurting, too, Steve thought, and drew equal amounts of something not quite like happiness and further pain from it. He wanted her happy. He didn't want her to hurt, but part of him hurt less thinking that she did – as if suddenly they shared the pain.
He excused himself from the table to go to the bathroom. He desperately needed some time alone. He felt hot, almost feverish. It had nothing to do with the temperature on Oahu, the three extra bottles of beer, or the gorgeous red dress Catherine was wearing. None of that completely registered in his mind at the moment. His thoughts kept spinning in his head, telling tale tales of what could have been if his reaction to her leaving him had been different and what probably was between her and Fancy Suit. They were way too comfortable with each other for this to be a first date, right? Had she gotten over him so fast? She'd said she loved him. Hadn't that amounted for anything? She had told him she loved him when she told him why she was leaving, so she'd had no reason to lie. Yet, now it seemed that she had quickly forgotten her feelings for him. Had they meant so little in the end?
He mused over all of this as he splashed water into his face. He barely recognized the man staring back at him from the mirror. No wonder his team kept telling him to go home early and get some rest. He looked like death warmed over. Ashen skin, dark rings and bag under his reddened eyes, and a forlorn look on his face that he bet even a fake smile couldn't hide. He'd really been exaggerating, but what could he do? If he wasn't working, he had too much time to think and too many anguished thoughts to sleep. And when he did sleep, he dreamt of her walking away from him, waking up to a wet pillow soaked in his tears. He hadn't told anyone about that, but he suspected that at least Danny knew, what with how often his partner came into his house unannounced.
Closing his eyes briefly to catch himself, he started to walk back to the tables when he ran into Catherine in front of the restrooms. What was she doing here?
"Oh, Steve, hi," she stammered, apparently not sure how to react either.
"Hi, Cath," he murmured, and couldn't help but use his endearment for her. Old habits died hard, and this one he was not willing to part with yet. Nobody else called her that. His SEAL team called her 'Kitten', a pun on the one time he'd called her Cat when he was still experimenting with her name that they found hilarious. Five-0 just called her Catherine – or Ramboette, in Danny's case. "Uh, the guys are here. They have leave."
"Oh, yeah, I saw them. I'll say hi before we... leave. I didn't want to intrude."
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
There was an awkward pause, then it just burst out of Steve.
"Who's that guy?" He wanted to bite his own tongue off a second later. That came out great. If you're into accusations, that is. Catherine clearly wasn't amused if the frown on her face was anything to go by.
"He's a friend," she answered sternly, but evasively.
"Sure looked like more than a friend," came his prompt reply, and Steve couldn't believe it. He was saying things without thinking about them. He couldn't deny that it interested him, but he was being a total jackass to Catherine, and he knew it. Any moment now she would slap him, he was sure of it. Instead, a look at her face made him realize how defeated and hurt she looked. Or burst into tears, he thought. Damn it, he couldn't take that. He'd never been good with crying women, but seeing tears on Cath would surely rip his heart right out of his chest. "Look, I'm sorry. It's none of my business."
"You're right, it isn't. We're not together anymore, if we ever were, and-"
"What's that supposed to mean: 'if we ever were'?! You said you loved me, were you lying?"
Catherine huffed.
"No, I wasn't lying. I would never lie to you about something so important."
"Oh, so you would lie over things that are 'unimportant', huh?!"
She took a step back, bewildered. He didn't quite understand were this argument was going, himself.
"Where did that come from?", she asked in a quieter voice. "What is this about?"
"I-" He stopped himself, tearing a hand through his short hair, and growling in frustration. This was not how he'd envisioned their next conversation. Sure, they'd both known that the whole 'we'll always be friends' crap was just that, or at least that it wouldn't work out that way for a while to come, but this... to have a fight with her in front of the restrooms of a seaside restaurant... He never thought it would come to this. He should shut up now, and let it go, but his brain-to-mouth filter clearly had stopped working a while ago. So, while he could take a few seconds to compose himself, he could not stop himself from saying what came out next.
"You're here with that white collar guy, a few weeks after we... after you broke up with me, when you still claimed to love me! Did you mean it? Were we so easy to let go of? Did we mean anything at all to you?!"
She didn't answer for a moment, and he could almost feel her hand twitching, itching to slap him for what he'd just said, but it was the truth of what he was thinking and he wouldn't take it back. If she slapped him, he would take that as an answer. Actions speak louder than a thousand words. But she did finally answer, and her voice, though barely above a whisper, carried over to him with the strength of a knife in the gut.
"We meant everything."
