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She leans close to the mirror, checks her neck. The scratch is bloody still, burning. She can't see the bruise yet but she can feel it forming under her skin, pulsing with pain every time she turns her head. She probes it gently with her fingers and prays it's low enough to be hidden by her hair, her collar… She stops, her wrists aching as she fists her hands tightly.
There, dark, angry red has already started to show, like steel manacles around both. There too, the fingers that made them are not visible, mottled in a single, massive mark. She's glad for that, for some reason; glad she won't see his fingers on her skin, like maybe she can forget what was there.
Her teeth graze on the cut inside her lip, gnawing at it until it starts to bleed again. She rolls her shoulders, massaging the right one with her left hand. It aches deep with pulled muscles and the cut on her elbow stings. She can still feel his elbow digging into her spine but she will not look at the mark just above her hairline, right where the goose egg is forming. She will not remember his teeth marking her skin.
She limps away from the mirror, her freshly wrenched knee swollen and hurting. She can't look further down. She can't look at her breast, at the crescent of teeth there. Her ripped shirt hangs by a thread and she is too.
She can't look at his hands marked onto the delicate skin of her thighs, each finger printed on her like a brand. She can't bear to take off her panties even though they're torn to shreds, to see the blood between her legs.
A tear trails down her cheek and she bites her lip to keep the sobs at bay. She fought. She fought so, so hard but in the end, it didn't matter. He crushed her under his weight, pinned her, whacked her head on the concrete until she was too dazed to do anything; too out of it to move, to resist, but not enough not to feel.
She backs away from the mirror until her back finds the wall and she slides down, her good knee cradled to her chest and she fails again, lets the tears overwhelm her.
The door creaks and she's flooded with terror, flattens her back against the wall and peers up, eyes wide with fright.
"It's me, Kono. It's just me."
She drops her head, covering her face with her hands. She's falling apart.
"Shh.. Hey, it's okay, I'm here. You're safe. It's okay," he says, voice soft. He crouches low in front of her but doesn't touch her, like he knows.
"I fought… I fought back," she murmurs. She can't help the sob that break free. It hurts so much. Inside and out.
"I know. It's not your fault."
"I wasn't strong enough." I failed. It's my fault.
"It's okay, kaina."
"I…"
"It's not your fault, okay? I'm here," he says, softly. "You're safe."
She looks up at him, all her pain and fear painted in her eyes, on her face. He comes closer, slowly and wraps his arms around her. Calm. Protective.
"You're safe. I promise."
When she's calm again, he lets her go, stands and holds out a hand. "Can you stand?"
"Yeah," she breathes. She takes his hand and winces as her whole body aches with the movement. He sees her limp and moves to support her but not before silently seeking permission in her eyes. She nods and he slips an arm around her waist, her own over his shoulders.
"He raped me," she whispers.
"I know."
He helps her out to his truck, gathers her in his arms and puts her in the seat, seeking her eyes, unsure.
"What do you want to do?"
She can't swallow the single sob. "Hospital. I… I need to…"
"There's nothing you need to do."
She nods furiously. She has to. She has to. Otherwise, he wins. He gets away with it and does it to someone else. It's the very last thing she wants but she needs to. Deep down, she needs to and she knows it, knows why.
"I have to."
He smiles, soft and proud. "Good girl." Coming from him, it's okay. It's not condescending. It's respecting her strength, her courage.
On the way, he speaks to her, softly. "Do you want me to call them? Or would you rather…"
She shakes her head, biting her lip as fresh tears fall. "Could you…"
"Yeah."
The silence that slips in is heavy and she knows what he'll ask next.
"Kono… Do you… do you know who did this to you?"
She swallows hard and nods ever so slowly. The name slips from her lips, a whisper tasting like ash.
He pats her shoulder and turns to leave the room, to leave her with the nurse and the doctor that are waiting in the hall, to leave her in their care, for one of the hardest thing she ever had to do.
She grabs his arm before he can go further. "Don't… I don't want you to kill him," she says quietly. "I can't live with that on my conscience too."
"I won't, Kono. I swear, on my honor." And then, he smiles, the darkness there clear as the midday sun. "There are worst things in life than death. One last thing, though. Tell HPD everything but you don't know who he is. You don't know his name. Give them a description but not his name. Okay?"
"I…"
"Kono. I'll take care of it. I promise you that but I need this from you. Okay?" he explains quietly.
"Okay," she murmurs
His face slips into a mask of unbridled fury as soon as the door closes behind him. Rage burns bright in his soul but he quashes it. Fury is blinding and he needs clarity. There are tasks at hand, things that need to be done.
He calls Danny and Chin, asking them to meet him here. They come, fast and worried.
The first thing Chin asks him is where Kono is.
"Follow me." He doesn't relish what he's about to do. Both men follow wordlessly as he leads them into a small room hidden down the ER hall. The on-call room is empty and he shuts the blind on the door, turning to face them. He keeps his body between them and it. It feels like he's caging them, feeding them to the wolves, to the horror he has to bring to them.
"What's going on, Steve?" Danny asks.
"And where's Kono?"
He sighs and rubs the back of his neck with a hand. "Kono's in a treatment room. They're doing an exam now."
Chin's eyes go wide, panic blooming in the dark pools of his eyes "What happened? Is she okay?"
He bites his bottom lip as he sighs sharply. There's no easy way to say this so he goes with the cold hard truth.
"She was raped."
Dead, shocked silence crowds the small room for a moment.
"Jesus Christ," Danny swears, eye closed.
Chin just… explodes.
Steve isn't surprised, expected it. Of course, he wants to end the world, wants to avenge his cousin. But that's not his place, not his role. He has Kono to take care of, to care for.
He throws Danny a look and his partner understands, steps up to Chin, tries to stall him for a second but he's spoiling for a fight, squaring off on Danny, suddenly ignoring him, so he gets right into Chin's face, locking eyes with him, the depth of his boring into his friend's.
"Do you trust me, Chin? Do you?"
Chin deflates and his eyes drop with a heavy sigh. "You know I do."
"Then trust me on this. I'll make this right. She won't have to testify. George Mason will go to jail and he'll live the rest of his life in fear. Trust me on that. You need to take care of Kono."
"What… You-"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, Chin," he says darkly.
He hasn't done this in a while but it's as fresh in his mind as yesterday, muscle memory. This is what he does. This is what he was trained for.
He ignores the thrum of adrenaline in his blood, shoves it to the back, letting the ruthless solider take over.
The abduction takes less than sixty seconds. He's got the hood over Mason's head in a second and the man in a sleeper hold in three. He starts dragging him backwards immediately, heading for his truck, parked in the dark shadows by the stairwell columns. Twenty-five seconds and Mason sags in his grip, his nails stopping their frantic clawing on his fabric-covered arms. He relaxes his hold and keeps walking. He's in the back seat of the truck another twenty later. He slips the needle into the man's muscular thigh and presses the plunger, making sure the cap isn't lost anywhere. He lays the scumbag carefully on his side in a recovery position and throws a dark blanket over him before locking up the truck. He has time now.
He knows the moment Mason wakes up, a sharp gasp and harsh breaths breaking the silence.
He smiles. There's silence in the darkness once again, Mason's breaths barely moving the air as he tries to hear, to see.
The slip of a blade on a leather sheath cracks the silence, shatters it. He gives a hushed, feral chuckle at the startled yelp.
The rasp of the stone is clear, unmistakable as it runs against the blade and the darkness fills with sound; curses and harsh breaths of pure fury.
He laughs. He knows it's his voice because the two men are alone in the dark. He recognizes the coldness and the savage evilness of the tone. It's been a long time since he let that side of himself out but it's fitting. He's not a nice guy. He knows how to play nice, how to be civilized but Danny's right. He's a vicious, cold, calculating animal when he has to be and God help him, he has no problem with it. It doesn't keep him up at night. Ever. He's not like Danny; Danny who does the job but agonizes over it, over taking lives, even those of scum like this.
He runs the stone against the blade, slowly.
Mason's already pulling at his bonds, saying he's gonna get loose and there's gonna be hell to pay.
Steve knows the cockiness and anger's about to change.
"Shut up, George. You're not here to speak. You're here to listen." His voice is ice. One sentence and Mason's already sutting up and he's still ten feet away, sitting on a chair, sharpening his knife. He smiles.
He should be afraid of himself, sometimes, he thinks. He isn't.
The light clicks on, far overhead, casting a sharp circle of light in the darkness between them. He knows Mason recognizes him by the way he starts to yell and shout again. The snarling man is just a blur, his words loud not enough to drown out the sound of stone on steel. He rages and raves about Five-0 and cops and Steve's had enough.
"Shut up," Steve snaps, hard and low.
Mason growls but quiets down.
"You raped a friend of mine," he growls, running the stone against the blade again.
George goes to protest again, shouting his innocence.
That, he will not tolerate.
"QUIET!" he barks, his voice cracking like a whip. He stands and steps into the light fully. He turns the knife in his hand, letting the light dance on the edge of the blade.
"You know who I am, but that doesn't matter. What matters is; I know who you are. My team knows who you are. Every cop on this Island knows who you are. So there's no place safe for you. Anywhere."
"Fuck you!"
He dodges the spit Mason hurls at him and he resists the urge to backhand him as hard as he hit Kono. He won't leave a mark on him. The object of the man is to put fear into him. Not fear of death. Fear of him.
"You think you're a tough guy, huh? You think you're a man because you can hurt women, hurt one of mine?
"That little broad was Five-0?" Mason scoffs. "She squealed like the rest of 'em."
Steve's hand is around his throat before he can think. "You think you're a man?" he whispers into his ear, hand tight enough to restrict the air going into his lungs but not enough to leave a mark. He's pretty sure Mason hasn't noticed the hand around his throat is the left one, not the one that holds the knife.
"Can't be a man without a dick, now can you?" he says with a snarl, pressing the point of his knife into Mason's crotch, just at the root of his genitals.
The man in his grasp struggles and twists and he presses the knife harder.
"Shh, shh, shhh," he hushes as he feels the fabric starting to give.
He looks up, behind Mason and nods. He lifts his hand off, releasing the man's throat. Mason moves forward to cough but the relief doesn't last. A muscular arm slips around his throat and he's in a chokehold before he can draw in a full breath.
"Fight or move, I squeeze. You got it, sleazebag?"
Mason fights in Danny's hold regardless and Danny does what he said. He squeezes a little and Steve pushes the knife just a tiny bit harder.
Mason stills.
"Good boy," Danny whispers in his ear.
Steve backs away and slips the stone over the blade of his knife again. He squats then, eyes level with Mason's crotch.
He grabs a handful of his pantleg and pierces it with the blade, slicing through the fabric like it's silk.
Mason's struggling now, eyes wide with fear but Danny doesn't squeeze, just lets him.
"Relax, boy, just relax. You won't die. You won't bleed to death. I've seen emasculations plenty and it's not fatal," Danny whispers, right into Mason's ear.
The knife moves up to the waist of his pants and Steve bends back down to grab the other ankle, slicing up the other pantleg.
"Ah shit," he mutters as he gets to the thigh. He steps back with a disgusted frown.
"What?"
"He pissed himself."
Danny just laughs.
"Yeah, funny, you're not the ones with his hands in it."
"You're wearing gloves, babe, besides that's why there's a tarp on the floor. It'll catch the piss just as good as the blood."
Steve nods. "Right."
He sets back to the task and in one swipe of the knife, Mason's pants are cut off. Steve wastes no time. He makes short work of the soaked boxers and the rapist's exposed, the stench of urine thick. He flexes his fingers and grabs Mason's wet genitals and yanks them up and twists, putting the knife at the base of his scrotum.
Mason's panting like a winded horse, eyes wide with terror and he's whimpering and pleading and begging.
"Now, Geroge, you will listen to me, and listen good," he growls, the blade pressing in a little harder. He's sure Mason hasn't noticed it's the back of the blade that's resting against his skin, not the sharp edge.
"Wh… What…. Do…."
"You're going to walk into HPD headquarters and confess. You won't take any deals they offer. You'll go to jail. Once you're there, I'll be watching. I know who you are. When you get out, I'll remember your name. I won't ever forget. You got it?"
"I..,"
"You don't? I will disappear you. You understand? You will cease to exist. They won't ever find what's left of you because there will be nothing to find. You will cease to exist."
"You can't do this!" Mason screams, spittle flying from his lips, tears running down his cheeks.
Steve stares right at him, cocks his head and presses the knife harder. "Remember what I said."
Mason tries to fight, tries to stand and Steve smiles when Danny brings his free hand up and stick a needle in his shoulder.
"Goodnight," Danny whispers in his ear as he succumbs to the drug.
They sit on the edge of the water, beer in hand, watching the waves roll gently on the sand.
"I knew you… we'd scared him shitless but… I never thought he'd kill himself."
"Twelve women, Danny."
"I know. Though I gotta say, babe, you're a damned good actor. I'd have bought it."
Steve chuckles. "It's always more credible when it's true."
Danny rounds on him, a shocked, angry and dark look in his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Steve stays still, eyes on the water and the sinking sun. "Just exactly what I said."
"You cannot be serious. You're talking about cold blooded murder!"
"So that's where you draw the line?"
"WHAT! What the hell are you saying Steve? Have you lost your mind? Forget that. You have. You're completely insane. What do you mean I draw the line at murder? There is no line! It's murder, Steven, it's a crime!"
"So are kidnapping and torture and we just did both and I don't see you freaking out about those. Where's the line, Danny, huh? Tell me. I'm the one who kidnapped him and I don't see you arresting me. I see you aiding and abetting if you want to get technical. Because what I did, what we did to Mason… That's torture. Psychological torture, but torture, Danny, and you're an accessory at the very least. So why stop there? What's the reason? I know it's not because you're too squeamish to take a life."
"I... I've... I... To defend myself yes! Never in cold blood!
"So where's the line, Danny?"
"Self-defense isn't murder Steve!"
"Killing to defend others is also self-defense, don't forget."
"When there's an imminent threat you moron! Not in cold blood!"
"Being cold blooded and being pragmatic are two different things. Don't confuse them."
"Who are you?!"
"Look. All I'm saying is that when I make a threat, I back it up, that's all."
"No. nonononono. You cannot take it back. You cannot say things like that and then say it's not what you meant. We are cops. We follow the law. I follow the law!"
"When it suits you."
"WHAT!"
"Don't tell me the law matters when one of your own is in danger, Danny, because we both know that's a lie. You're not that much of a hypocrite."
"I'm a hypocrite now?"
"What if Mason had hurt Grace instead of Kono? Would you have killed him? What about Chin and that money we stole, or you shooting Rick Peterson or you beating the crap out of Ray Beckett so he'd cough up where he hid Ella?"
"That's different!"
"How? How is killing a man for raping your daughter any different than killing one for doing the same to Kono?"
"Justifiable homicide, by a distraught parent, temporary insanity maybe even. And trust me, I wouldn't have to play it. And I could've killed Peterson. I didn't."
"That's it? So long as you can find a way for the law to apply or it's not fatal, it's okay?"
This is all slipping out of control and Steve's suddenly afraid of what this conversation will do to their friendship.
"Bend the rules, don't break 'em! And if you do, make sure you can live with what you've done and don't get caught. I don't think I could live with cold-blooded murder, Steve."
He sighs. "One life, to save thousands. Just… two or three sometimes but… Sometimes, that one life is worth taking, Danny."
"So this means you've done it, no? Killed a man in cold blood."
"You know I can't answer that."
"Yeah, yeah, classified and all that but I'm not asking for specifics. Did you, or did you not kill someone in cold blood."
He chews on his bottom lip as he thinks. Maybe he has, if you look at it from a legal point of view but things are never so black and white in the field, in the fog of war. There are orders and…
"So?"
"It's not that simple, Danny. It's not so black and white out there. If you think the line can be hard to see out here… You have no idea how gray it is out there. But every person I've ever killed was either trying to kill me or had to die for the greater good."
"The greater good?" The sarcasm in Danny's voice is thick, bordering on disdain. "You really believe that?"
He draws in a breath, anger flaring. He turns to Danny, eyes hard, fury lacing his words. "Every single person I've ever killed in the line of duty has been to protect the greater good, to protect the people of this country, the people I love! You, Grace, Mary, Chin, Kono, all of you! You think it's easy? You think it's easy looking through that scope, knowing you're leaving kids fatherless, condemning them too just because one man decided he was going to wage war on us? You think it doesn't weigh on my mind every single day?"
"They why did you do it?"
"Because it was my duty, my job! And so that you and your family can live in peace and so you don't have to make those choices!" he shouts, getting to his feet, arms cast wide, so angry he's shaking. "Yeah, I can be a cold hearted bastard when I have to be and trust me when I say you do not want to know what I'm capable of. But I do it. For you, for every single person in this god damned country!"
"Okay, okay, okay look! I'm sorry all right? And you're right, I don't know. I don't understand. Probably because it's really hard for me to reconcile you, the Steve McGarrett I know with that guy, the cold hearted bastard. Doesn't mean I don't respect you or what you've had to do."
"I envy you, sometimes, Danny. I wish it was so easy to see things the way you do, so clear cut."
"That's why we have laws, rules!"
"Don't give me that. Don't tell me you've never seen the law protect a criminal."
"I have! But most times, it puts them behind bars and it keeps us, the good guys, from becoming as bad as the bad guys."
Steve shakes his head. "I wish I still totally believed that but after what I've seen... And thankfully, here, it's mostly true; the good guys are who you think they are and the bad guys are the minority. Not so much in the rest of the world."
"I should be thankful I'm here then."
"You should."
"I am. And thanks."
"For. What," Steve says slowly, warily. Somehow, he isn't sure if Danny's sincere or still stuck in sarcasm mode.
"For your service. I know I poke fun a lot but…You're right, I couldn't do what you do. What you did. Had to do."
Steve only nods. The tone alone breathes honesty this time and he's feeling like an idiot for thinking anything else. It defuses his anger like a balloon being popped. After a beat, he takes a deep breath and sits back down.
"Don't ever doubt my resolve, Danny," he says, voice low and deadly serious, eyes on the waves.
Danny stays silent and just nods; he can see the hint of movement out of the corner of his eye.
"Have you heard from Chin?" Danny asks after the sun's disappeared.
He shakes his head. "No. I should call."
"Why don't we just go see her? Ohana, right?"
"Yeah."
"And for the record?"
"Hm?"
"If it were Grace?"
"Yeah?"
"There's nothing scarier than a cop with nothing to lose, especially one with a slightly deranged Navy SEAL partner. And… okay, maybe, just maybe, I'm not as black and white as I used to be, a fact I completely and totally blame you for."
He huffs out a chuckle. Of course, Danny blames him.
"We okay?" Danny asks eventually.
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yes Danny I'm sure. Let's go pay Kono a visit. I mean, if you think it's a good idea. After what she's been through…"
"What she needs is something normal, not people walking on eggshells around her, like she's fragile or, or, or, broken.
"She blames herself."
"They all do."
"Yeah?"
"Especially women like Kono; women that are trained, that shouldn't be vulnerable but you and I both know sometimes, it doesn't matter how good or how prepared you are…"
"But she has to know that!"
"Knowing it and believing it are two different animals, Steve."
"So what can we do?"
"Just… be there."
"You think that's enough?"
"Nothing more we can do."
"So let's go be there, then."
They turn their backs to the waves and Steve hopes the future will be kinder, on all of them.
Fin
Notes: So, okay. You made it through. Tell me your thoughts? *I stole a line from NICS 11x5, bonus points to the ones who find it**