Steve McGarrett would always remember the date.
April 19, 1992.
The day his mother died.
The day his life was out of control.
The day that made him what he was today.
The day that changed everything.
He still remembered telling Danny, "That day that day that car exploded made me who I am."
This last case brought up unpleasant memories for the lieutenant commander.
Revenge. Remorse.
And grief.
He sighed, and began recollecting. Remembering what was that changed is his life.
April 19, 1992. Steve McGarrett was sixteen. He looked at the empty seat in front of him. His mother wasn't home yet. Usually she was the one who lectured Steve or Mary on being late to dinner. Steve sighed. Something was very wrong.
"What's wrong, Steve?" Steve looked up from his plate. Mary, his little sister – who was actually only a year younger than him – was looking at him through narrow eyes. Steve could concern etched in her blue eyes.
"I'm worried about Mom," Steve said carefully. He was careful about not upsetting Mary; now that she was a teenager, her moods were unpredictable. "She's never been late before."
Mary shrugged. "She's fine. Mom's running late from work. You know how hard she works."
Steve nodded, trying to convince himself that Mary – for once – was right. Still, he had an uneasy feeling.
Their father stood up from his working desk. Steve was still surprised to see him there. As a dedicated cop, John McGarrett was always at on call.
But not today.
Before their father could speak, the doorbell rang.