Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii Five-O or any of its characters.
Thanks to Tanith2011 for her beta-reading and encouragement. Thanks to jodm for her help and to Book 'em Again for her background on the Kelly family.
This story takes place after Season 10.
The Cubicle
They walked past his cubicle averting their eyes. This had become a habit in the last couple of weeks. Would life ever be the same again? Right now the pain was still too fresh.
Lani had discretely tidied up when everyone was out; discarded a forgotten sack lunch, washed his coffee cup, emptied his ash tray. She had moved the active case folders from his desk to the file cabinet in the common area. Perhaps she was able do this because she had only been their secretary a short time and hadn't formed the strong attachments the others had. Perhaps it was because in some ways, women are stronger and they just do what needs to be done.
Cubicles offer little privacy. Lani overheard the quiet conversations between Duke and Dan as they talked out some of their grief. The fact that they were in adjacent cubicles made this convenient, but it was also their personalities that allowed them to open up to each other. It was different for the boss. He felt responsible for the tragedy and this intensified his suffering. He also kept his deepest feelings hidden away from others and spent many hours alone in his private office.
Lani knew that a more thorough cleanout was in order, but she was not going to bring it up with the boss. Not now anyway. It could wait.
o-o-o
A month passed, then two. The cubicle remained untouched. It had become a symbol of their loss. It would have been easier to rip that small room out of the Palace than it would ever be to rip Chin Ho Kelly from their hearts. But it was time to begin the healing and something had to be done.
One quiet evening, Danny decided to face the task of penetrating the solid wall that surrounded his best friend. He approached the door to the private office and knocked.
"Steve?"
"Come in, Danno."
Danny sighed quietly as he took a seat in one of the white leather chairs in front of the big desk. As he studied his boss, he realized that the man seemed to have aged ten years in the past month. He sat in silence in the darkened room for several minutes gathering his thoughts. Steve usually tries to take care of everyone except himself; maybe this will work.
"Steve, Alia called. Tim is having a really hard time and she's worried about him. She was hoping that you could talk to him."
Several more minutes passed in silence.
"Steve, it wasn't your fault. This job…all of us know that it's is a possibility every day, every time we walk out that door. We've lost Chin…we can't push away that reality, painful as it is."
"You're right, Danno."
Steve's voice was raspy and strained, higher pitched than usual. He buried his face in his hands and wept.
o-o-o
Tim Kelly sat in Steve's office on a Sunday afternoon. They had the place to themselves as the secretaries didn't work on Sundays and Dan and Duke were off duty. The clock ticked as the minutes passed. Steve stared out the window and Tim sat in sullen silence; two men at a loss as to how to begin what had to be done. Still facing the window, Steve took a deep breath, cleared his throat and chose his words carefully.
"Tim, I need to clean out your father's office. I've been putting it off for a long time; I just couldn't face it. But I think I can do it with your help, if you are willing."
Tim looked up at the tall detective. In a way, this man was a living link to his father and he felt compelled to help him.
"Sure, Mr. McGarrett."
o-o-o
The two spent the next several hours in the small cubicle. Tim cleaned out the desk drawers, discarding the junk and packing the personal items in a box: framed family photos, his father's pipe and tobacco, a clock, a rosary. Steve respectfully removed the awards and citations from the walls and wrapped them in paper to protect the glass. Then he turned his attention to the small file cabinet. This was police business, Steve's responsibility, but Tim lingered. He sat at the desk while the older man scanned file after file and sorted them into piles.
Tim absent-mindedly opened one of the folders Steve had stacked on the desk. His reaction was immediate. He took a sharp breath and reverently touched the page; touched his father's handwriting. Tears formed in his eyes. Just as suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I lost my father when I was thirteen," Steve remarked gently. "I thought the pain would never go away…it does get better with time."
After a couple of minutes, Tim wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and raised his head to look at the man his father had called a brother.
"Tim, my father is with me every day. He's the reason I became a cop. Your father was a remarkable man and I know that he was proud of you. Don't be afraid of losing his presence because you never will."
The young man let this message sink in. The words were comforting, but there was still a haunting tone in the detective's voice and the gnawing pain of guilt in his eyes. Tim met the older man's gaze as he echoed Dan's words.
"Mr. McGarrett…this wasn't your fault. Dad prepared us for this. He knew the risks and chose this job. He never wanted to do anything else. It wasn't your fault."
There it was – the pardon and forgiveness he needed. The ordinary Sunday afternoon at the Palace had become sacred.
o-o-o
Afternoon turned into evening as they moved the packed boxes into the common area. They ordered take-out from Uncle Lee's and moved into Steve's private office to eat. With their burdens lifted, the two men swapped stories about Chin with love, lightness and humor well into the night.
Pau