"Bloody hell, they forgot the cheese in my sandwich!" Danny groaned dropping the top bread onto his food tray with disgust.
Steve only forked his salad with eyebrows raised in half amusement, as Danny began to grumble and groan about the inhumanity of such a restaurant that would dare forget to properly fill a sandwich. He almost felt bad for the poor cashier as Danny picked up his tray and stalked over to the counter to probably continue ranting there, giving Steve's ear's a break.
Suddenly Steve didn't feel so bad for the casher.
It had been a relatively slow week in the 5-0 HQ, as the rest of the island seemingly took a magical break against all robberies, murdering and drug dealing. So rather than regular lunches spent quickly while working in the office, Steve and Danny had decided to go out for lunch in one of the town's quieter restaurants. Only three or four other people sat eating their meals. But then again, Steve mused, Danny talked enough for at least 10 people at once. He could already hear his parterre chewing out the poor kid at the counter. Said kid who desperately promised a new sandwich for free.
Snorting in amusement, Steve swiftly got up and threw his empty salad container and water bottle out. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants and went back to his and Danny's table, turning the chair to the side so he sat facing out and giving his cramped legs a break from being practically stuck underneath the table. Rather than torturing his ears by listening to Danny bemoaning the loss of a good lunch, Steve glanced out the window.
Some naive and light part of him breathed in the blue sky and green palm trees, distantly framing the clear blue ocean. People dress colourfully milled about dotting Hawaii's natural green and blues, forming a magnitude of rainbows against Hawaii's canvas. He continued staring affectionally at his hometown fingering the rough tabletop. Distantly he registered Danny instructing the server with what toppings to fill in his sandwich. They would be late to HQ due to Danny's timing…but Steve could cut him some slack this time. Steve allowed his features to soften, as he took in this portrait to Hawaii.
A small snort and annoyingly sharp rustle of paper snapped Steve out of his reverie. He glanced to his far left to see a frowning woman seated and clutching a large newspaper. Her sharp glasses perched precariously at the edge of her nose. And then Steve heard her mutters, "…Bloody military, and whoever else. Who do they think they are?"
He started at that. Unfortunately, throughout his military career, Steve had come across people who seemed to be extremely prejudiced against those in the armed forces. He had learnt to let their words roll of his shoulders. However, inwardly he sighed at his luck. Just because he let it go, didn't mean It was not painful to listen to.
Your being too sensitive. Some part of him frowned at his softer side. Your emotions are clouding your judgement, his military side sounded oddly like his old commanding officer.
Shaking his head Steve found himself tuning the women's mutters back into focus, while pointedly staring at the floor. Much to his surprise, a man who had been sipping a coffee and engrossed in his phone shifted and glanced at the women. Lips turned down a few degrees and eyebrows up slanted slightly; Steve noted an expression of utter irritation and a hint of anger.
Sure enough the man spoke up, "something the matter ma'am?"
From the corner of his eye, Steve could see the women put down her paper and sigh loudly, effectively catching all the customer's attention on her side of the restaurant. She was an attention seeker.
"Yes." Her voice came out so much deeper than Steve expected. Immediately his mind painted an ominous image in his mind's eye. "Yes there is! I'm reading about some military mission in the paper here. And I think it is utter nonsense and a waste of government resources!"
At this point half of the room's attention, (thankfully not including the few people at the casher, like Danny) was on the women and her rather interesting rant. Steve forced his face into a neutral mask and pulled out his phone to pretend to be engaged in something else.
"Don't you think that people should go out and defend the nation though?" A meek looking woman piped up, fingering a paper nervously, with a small frown alighting her sharp features.
Mrs. Attention Seeker nearly snorted again. "When has War ever solved anything?" No one answered and so she continued to her audience: "Those men and women who go off to fight are just playing pawns and fighting and killing as a living. Isn't that what criminals do?"
Steve swallowed suddenly, and nervously. He had never intended to kill as a living. NO. He had simply wanted to help…
"- And they convince themselves that they help and are helping with peace. Pathetic if you ask me. Of course, that's why these people don't know how to fit back into civilian life...they become so full of their own so-called heroics that they cant find a damn job without causing a disruption in society! And don't get me started about those of elite task forces? Have you read about them? I certainly have, and ooooh let me tell you these SEALS and ground task forces those are much worse…"
Steve tuned the women out. Some small part of him was grateful that almost all her listeners were wearing some sort of disapproval or anger on there face. The women who had spoken up earlier had her mouth forced into a thin line.
But Danny, Danny always would rant on and on about Steve's inability to fit into society. He would complain about Steve's lack of police procedure and general attitude in conflict-resolution. But all those rants about him being uncivil, his deadly set of skills acquired in his military life, weren't they all jokes? A way for Danny to be endearing? So then why did this women's own rant coincide with Danny's?
Good god. Could there be such a truth to his actions?
He could suddenly see himself in a country in the middle east. He had stood with other SEALs, Brothers. In his mind's eyes, he suddenly recalled one of the villages he and his team had scoured. A destroyed village, crushed by a cruel iron fist. They had scoured and searched and shifted through debris trying to find and save precious survivors, because by god, each life was worth it. A man had suddenly stumbled seemingly from out of the wreckage, his clothes layered in dust, crumbled asphalt and blood. He had grabbed the nearest uniformed man, which had been Steve.
"Where's my son?" The man had sobbed, eyes desperate and hurt. Steve stared back wide eyed. For one of the first times in his life he didn't know how to respond. But Steve knew in that moment he would do anything to protect those innocent and shattered like the man in front of him.
Nick, god bless him, he had stepped forward and looked at the man with sincere yet desperate eyes. "We are trying sir. We are trying to find survivors. We were just recently notified about this situation and we will-"
"No." The man had gasped out and pulled away. His eyes, god his eyes, Steve thought. " Everything about this war wont solve anything. You lot are only killing people! What lives have you saved!?"
Steve had stared back as the man's eyes found his. His team stood behind him silently. But all Steve could see was a loving and caring father spent in grief over a dead son. Some part of him understood... but it was hard. So hard to respond. To get the words out and say he understood this man's grief. So, they continued to search, and search scouring for precious survivors.
Steve swallowed and started at his phone. His hand fisted around it so tightly that he was surprised the device hadn't shattered. Smoothly pushing it back into his pocket, Steve got up and walked gracefully through the door of the restaurant, instantly leaving behind that women and her rant
I shouldn't be so damned affected by it… He thought and leant against the Camaro, tilting his head upward towards the clear Hawaiian sky. The clear blue of it, contrasted with his inner turmoil. For all he could really see was the lives he couldn't save, the deaths he could've prevented… and dear god, perhaps if had reacted differently in some of his missions, he could have saved lives. Would have ducking down made a difference there, or perhaps running away from the target would have meant leading his injured men to safety in that mission? He swallowed roughly again because… those failures were his fault… and he hadn't, and never wanted to be a killer.
