p class="MsoNormal"Steve tore the page from the pad of Five-0 letterhead and crushed it in his hand with the force he would love to exert on his enemy's skull. He threw it to the ground and it landed on the polished floor with a less than satisfying whisper, nudging a similar ball aside like two rocks on a curling sheet./p
p class="MsoNormal"He squeezed his eyes shut, dropped his pen, scrubbed his hands across his face and leaned back in his chair. After blowing out a long, heavy breath, Steve opened his eyes again and stared at the floor without seeing the litter strewn around the trash can like ammunition piled for a snow ball fight./p
p class="MsoNormal"This shouldn't be this difficult. Hard, yes, but not emthis /emhard. It wasn't like this was the first letter of its kind that he'd had to write. As a SEAL Team Leader, he had been forced to write them too many times./p
p class="MsoNormal"One time was too many./p
p class="MsoNormal"They were hard, but there a pattern, a formula that made the task easier./p
p class="MsoNormal"emYour son was an important, valued member of our team... the mission would not have been successful without his sacrifice... he helped save many lives and served his country well... he will not be forgotten.../em/p
p class="MsoNormal"Every letter he had written, every loss, was difficult, but it was part of the job. They all knew it. He got through it, wrote his letter in one draft and eventually moved on. Even Freddie was no exception./p
p class="MsoNormal"But this letter... was impossible. He couldn't do it. It ripped him apart. He bled out words through his pen, but nothing that appeared on the page was good enough. Steve just did not have the vocabulary./p
p class="MsoNormal"emHe /emwould have known what to say. He always knew what to say. And what not to say./p
p class="MsoNormal"But emhe /emwasn't here anymore./p
p class="MsoNormal"How could he write this letter to parents who had already lost one son on Steve's watch? That death also weighed on his soul. He shouldn't have lied to the feds; he should have tracked the guy after he fled. And now he had also let his brother die. Left a couple without either of their sons. Left a beautiful, once cheerful teenager and a rambunctious mini-Danny without a father./p
p class="MsoNormal"Left Steve without his Danno – his only reason for being./p
p class="MsoNormal"He'd never told Danny that. He'd never clarified what his 'I love yous' actually meant, even as the Jersey native lay dying under his hands – hands that weren't fast enough to save him. It probably wouldn't have stopped this from happening anyway./p
p class="MsoNormal"After, he tried to bottle his feelings; tried to remember how he acted to fallen comrades in the past, tried to take his cue from Chin and Kono. Tried to be strong for Grace and Charlie./p
p class="MsoNormal"He tore another page from the pad, crumpled it, tossed it. The knife in his chest twisted more as he put pen to paper again, bled more, wondered when he would finally bleed dry./p
p class="MsoNormal"He squeezed his eyes shut, dropped his pen, scrubbed his hands across his face and leaned back in his chair. After blowing out a long, heavy breath, Steve opened his eyes again and stared at the floor without seeing the litter strewn around the trash can like ammunition piled for a snow ball fight./p
p class="MsoNormal"This shouldn't be this difficult. Hard, yes, but not emthis /emhard. It wasn't like this was the first letter of its kind that he'd had to write. As a SEAL Team Leader, he had been forced to write them too many times./p
p class="MsoNormal"One time was too many./p
p class="MsoNormal"They were hard, but there a pattern, a formula that made the task easier./p
p class="MsoNormal"emYour son was an important, valued member of our team... the mission would not have been successful without his sacrifice... he helped save many lives and served his country well... he will not be forgotten.../em/p
p class="MsoNormal"Every letter he had written, every loss, was difficult, but it was part of the job. They all knew it. He got through it, wrote his letter in one draft and eventually moved on. Even Freddie was no exception./p
p class="MsoNormal"But this letter... was impossible. He couldn't do it. It ripped him apart. He bled out words through his pen, but nothing that appeared on the page was good enough. Steve just did not have the vocabulary./p
p class="MsoNormal"emHe /emwould have known what to say. He always knew what to say. And what not to say./p
p class="MsoNormal"But emhe /emwasn't here anymore./p
p class="MsoNormal"How could he write this letter to parents who had already lost one son on Steve's watch? That death also weighed on his soul. He shouldn't have lied to the feds; he should have tracked the guy after he fled. And now he had also let his brother die. Left a couple without either of their sons. Left a beautiful, once cheerful teenager and a rambunctious mini-Danny without a father./p
p class="MsoNormal"Left Steve without his Danno – his only reason for being./p
p class="MsoNormal"He'd never told Danny that. He'd never clarified what his 'I love yous' actually meant, even as the Jersey native lay dying under his hands – hands that weren't fast enough to save him. It probably wouldn't have stopped this from happening anyway./p
p class="MsoNormal"After, he tried to bottle his feelings; tried to remember how he acted to fallen comrades in the past, tried to take his cue from Chin and Kono. Tried to be strong for Grace and Charlie./p
p class="MsoNormal"He tore another page from the pad, crumpled it, tossed it. The knife in his chest twisted more as he put pen to paper again, bled more, wondered when he would finally bleed dry./p