A/N – Ok.

First off, this is a death fic. Not the core four, but it still made me cry as I was writing it. Sometimes we get inspiration out of nowhere, and this was one of those things as I was going through photo albums and found a picture of someone who I love, that is no longer with us. So I made myself cry, and I cannot believe I did this to these characters.

I have never written a tear jerker before, nor have I ever written a death fic., and because I don't want to be balling my eyes out all night, I don't have a beta, so there are probably many mistakes, and if there are, feel free to tell me, and I will fix them as soon as possible.

Normally I would like to joke around in the authors notes, but I don't believe it's right, not morally acceptable.

Because we all know that I don't own this, I am going to skip the disclaimer.

DEDICATION – This is for our loved ones who we have lost, who we are losing, and who we have and who we will gain. Everybody we love is important, and sometimes life can and will rip them away from you without nothing more than a moment's notice, and sometimes, not even that. So love them while you can, because you never know when can will turn into can't.

HAWAII 5-0

He was grasping at nothing. There were no straws, strings, or even giant elephants for him to grasp at anymore. Now he was falling through to nothing. Falling into oblivion, and truthfully, he couldn't have cared less.

He watched the last tendril of the sun disappear as the sky turned a light shade of purple. The shadows of the trees grew longer and taller, but trees had never scared him, why should they now. Glancing down at his hands, he saw nothing but the shaky, pale, clammy palms. The same palms that had five limp fingers each. The same fingers that had 5 fingernails.

The same fingernails that held the blood that no amount of scratching and washing could erase.

"STEVE!"

Turning towards the high pitched squeal, his gun raised high and unwavering, he saw the sight that would forever haunt him.

A gun was pressed to her head, her long locks of hair were matted and caked my mud, and her face was pale and soaked with tears.

"You let my sister go!" Steve called out. Walking slowly towards the man, Steve tried controlling his breathing. Not less than two feet from Mary's feet were a pair of skinny, slim legs, unmoving. He tried to see around the barrel that conveniently covered the identity of the victim.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" The man asked menacingly.

"I am the man who is going to put a bullet in between your eyes." Steve threatened. He heard his team clear the rest of the warehouse through his com.

"But my dear Commander, your dear sister is already dead. It's a matter of whether your precious niece will make it out of this ordeal alive." The man sneered.

"Steve! She's dead, he shot her Steve! He shot-"A sharp slap across the cheek of Mary resonated throughout the warehouse.

"Where's my niece?" Steve asked coldly.

"Put your gun down Commander, and we can talk." The man shoved the gun into the crook of Mary's neck and she cried out.

"How about I just put a bullet between your eyes and we call it even." Steve said coolly, trying not to look at his sister.

"Ah, but where is the fun in that?"

"Where is my niece?" Steve asked, his gun unwavering, his gaze, cold as stone.

"Gun!"

"Nei-"

"Now Commander, you put that gun down or I will put three bullets into Mary's brain, and I will have three bullets put into poor Joan. Now I highly advise you to lose the gun!" To prove his point, He shoved the gun back into the side of Mary's head.

Out of options, Steve looked to the catwalk, seeing nothing, then looked back to Archibald Wallace. The son of an up and coming dictator over in Europe. Well, previous up and coming dictator, until Steve slashed his throat on a SEALS mission. His son, being the psychopath that he was, was now back for revenge. His accent was heavy, and he had no heart. Killing or wounding over 30 people just to get closer to Steve. He was not too old. In fact, he couldn't have been more than five or six years older than Steve.

All that did was give him five or six years more years of crazy that Steve didn't have.

Steve heard the pitter patter of shoes hitting the concrete, signifying that his team was standing behind him, their guns all pointed at the same target.

"Put the gun down Commander. You have your team backing up you up, now put it down!" Steve didn't have any need to look behind him at his team, knowing that his team would back him up regardless of the situation.

He thought over the situation quickly, hearing his sister squeal with fear and the sadistic bastard humming – was that 'My Heart Will Go On?' – Steve was trained to deal with all sorts of torture, but hearing the off key version of America's most loved, yet hated, song, was the worst sort of torture of all.

But it was effective.

"Alright, alright. I'm putting it down." He gulped slowly then clicked the safety of his gun back on. He knelt to the ground, the gun held off to his side. Placing it slowly on the ground he stood back up, all the while, trying to get a peek at the prone body that still lay motionless on the ground.

He finally reached his full height again and held his hands out none threateningly in front of him. "See?"

"Good."

Steve, with all of his training kicking in. Was able to register the crack of all five bullets. All of them hitting their marks. He watched as his sisters head exploded, and fall to the ground. He watched as Archibald's body shook with the force of three bullets hitting him consecutively.

"NO!" Steve ran to his sister, or what was left of her. "No, no, no." He whispered, wiping a hand on her shirt. He turned to the other body that lay on the floor. He rushed to it, placing a hand over the wound on her chest. "Cat?" Steve whispered, wiping her hair out of her eyes.

The eyes that looked back at him were empty.

Void of life.

"Steven!" Steve looked over at Danny, who looked at him with eyes full of regret and sorrow.

"Joan, we got to find Joan." Steve mumbled as he stood up, wiping his bloody hands on his pants. "We got to find-"

"Steven, come on. We need to go." Danny said, grabbing Steve's shoulder and yanking him towards the door. At the same time, he ripped the com link out of Steve's ear.

Steve looked up into Danny's eyes, his sorrow evident. "Danny we got to – we have to find Joan." Steve looked back to the bodies of his family and missed the look that Chin shot to Danny. The shaking of the head as he walked out of a room adjacent to the large room they were in now.

"Steve, they're gone. Mary is gone, Catherine's gone. Joan – Steve I's so sorry." Danny grabbed his friends arm.

Steve finally looked to Danny again, his eyes hard and cold. HE ripped the hand off of his arm. He rushed out of the ware house and ran to his truck, putting it into drive and scattering gravel as he raced out of the parking lot.

He stared out at the trees and the little lake in the distance.

He pulled the picture out of his pocket, the one that sat there habitually since the day it was given to him months ago. It was a picture of his whole family. Danny and Grace sat on the luscious green grass in the front of the picture, giving each other quizzical expressions. Kamekona and his cousin stood, looking as bulky and heroic as ever off to the right of Steve, who had Joan in his arms, a joyous smile on the both of their faces. Mary stood with her arm around Catherine, laughing like they had just told the funniest joke. Grover sat looking at Adam and Kono with a disgruntled look on his face, and Chin sat on the farthest to the left as he could get, a serene and peaceful smile on his face.

Steve let his legs dangle off the bed of his truck as he sat, engrossed in the picture.

He didn't hear the car pull up behind him, nor did he feel the weight of the truck shift slightly as Danny jumped into the cab.

"Steve?" Danny, knowing better than too grab at his friend. After that received no response, Danny slowly placed a gentle hand on Steve's thigh. "Babe?"

Danny was about to call out again, when he heard the faintest of whispers. "It's my fault Danno."

"Steve-"

"Danny, my family, my ohana, is dead! The woman that I love is dead! The niece that I treated like a daughter is dead! The only living blood relative that I was aware of still being alive, is dead. God Danny, what do I do? I-"A choked sob broke through, interrupting Steve's cry.

"Oh Steve." Danny pulled Steve into a hug, gripping him tightly, knowing that that is what Steve needed most at the moment.

Steve started to shake, the picture being crumpled in between him and Danny, and all Danny could do is let tears fall as Steve, the strongest man he knew, began to sob.

"Oh God Danny, what did I do to deserve this? What did they do to deserve this? They were so young and – oh god. What do I do?" Steve cried. "I don't know what to do Danny." Steve choked out. "I was just doing my job like a good little soldier. I-I-I-" Steve began to hyperventilate as he pulled away from Danny. He jumped off the bed of the truck and began to pace along the edge of the canyon.

Danny jumped off and blocked Steve's path. Grabbing his head in his hands, Danny forced Steve to look at him. "Steven, no words I say are going to make this better, but it doesn't mean I won't try. I know they are gone, but you loved them loyally and you didn't stop fighting for them until the end. You didn't stop, and they all knew you wouldn't-"

"But Danny, I couldn't save them. That's all that matters!"

"It's not your fault Steve. It's all part of a plan of some sort."

"Six months old Danny! What part of sick and twisted bastard kills a baby? Who kills in general? Why would – what did I do Danny?" Steve asked the questions with the most amount of sincerity he could muster as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Steve. I remember when Gracie was six months old, and I know I wouldn't have been able to cope if I had lost her, but it's going to be ok. You're strong, and you will pull through." Danny said, gripping Steve's face firmly.

"Not strong enough…" The statement trailed off into the air and over the canyon like a lazy river stream on a beautiful autumn's day.

Danny took one look at Steve, and pulled him in again, clutching at the backs of his shirt firmly. He could feel Steve wrap his shirt around his knuckles as he held to Danny firmly. Slowly, he could feel Steve began to shake again. Danny carefully maneuvered himself and Steve to the ground as Steve became oblivious to his surroundings.

And that's where they stayed all night, and all of the next night too after Danny found Steve had snuck out and found his way back to this spot, with his picture.

As the weeks went by, Steve's straws and strings lowly began to replenish and strengthen, as he grabbed on and held on tight. Everything he did, he did for them. HE always had a gaping hole where they should have been, but he had his best friend by his side the whole team, and he had the rest of his ohana to help and mend the hole that would never disappear.

He was grasping at straws, and he was grasping at strings, but at least he was hanging on.

HAWAII 5-0

A/N 2: So did I lose any of you? Sorry if I did, and sorry that you went through and suffered through all of that.

That is the end of this story, because I cannot and will not write another one of these. It was hard, and heartbreaking.

Sorry the ending was so anti climatic, but you can't really go through the whole grieving process in 200 words. Sorry if it irked any of you.

Lastly – Do you and I favor? Hug them, kiss them, love them. Because they can be gone in a blink of an eye.

~TayleR~