This is the hardest thing Steve has ever had to do.
This is the hardest thing Steve has ever had to do. It's true; he can't remember ever doing something more horrible than this. In all his years as a Navy SEAL, Steve had thought he'd seen the worst humanity could do – he thought there was nothing worse than war – but he now knows he couldn't have been more wrong.
Steve stands in the Medical Examiner's office, trying to work up the courage and force himself to enter the autopsy room.
He can't do this… He can't do this…
He has to do this.
Taking a deep breath, Steve pushes the handle down and opens the door slowly, revealing the cold room. Max Bergman is next to one of the metal tables. A sheet lies over the table, covering a body. Steve's eyes fills with tears as he knows who is under that sheet.
"Commander… I am so sorry," Max says quietly, looking at Steve solemnly. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Steve swallows, trying to hold back the tears, and nods. "Yes, I'm sure Max," he replies in a gruff voice. "I… I need to be sure… and to say goodbye." Steve looks at the diminutive pathologist. "How bad?"
Max hesitates before answering. "There was massive trauma to the face from shattered glass. The stomach and lower intestine also ruptured, resulting in massive internal bleeding. It most likely took little over a minute for death to occur."
Steve swallows down the bile that rises in his throat from the description. "I need to see," he says quickly.
The ME looks at him carefully. "I will ask again, Commander – are you sure you want to do this?"
The dark-haired man gives him a desperate look. "Max, please," he whispers.
Max nods and moves to the head of the table. He grips the edges of the sheet and looks to Steve, who nods, and he pulls the sheet down.
Steve can't hold back the sob that tears from his throat and echoes around the small room. His eyes are closed, hiding his blue orbs that captivated you when you looked at them. His blond hair, still slicked back, is matted and clumped together with dried blood. Cuts and more blood mar the entire left side of his face.
Tears drip down Steve's cheeks as he looks at his best friend's face. His skin is pale, almost grey. It's not right; his best friend should be with him, at his house, ranting at him because he hasn't cooked his steak to perfection. He shouldn't be here, lying on a cold slab, gone, because of a tragic car accident.
"Oh, Danny," he breathes. "Why?" He reaches a hand out and strokes his fingertips over the translucent skin, shivering at how cold he is. "Thank you, Max," he whispers and leaves the room as quickly as he can before he breaks down completely.
Steve makes it all the way back to his truck before he loses it. He grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white and he leans forwards, resting his forehead against the wheel, and he sobs. He sobs for his best friend's death; for another life lost in a tragic accident; for a little girl who will grow up without a father. It isn't fair; it isn't right.
A sudden memory floods Steve's mind…
20 years ago…
Steve sat in his bedroom, trying to study for his maths test the next day, but he was failing miserably. He just didn't understand it; A equals 4/3 pi multiplied by r to the power of 3, but that just didn't make sense! He was so going to fail this test.
The doorbell rang downstairs. Steve briefly considered going to answer it, just to get away from the torture of studying for this test, but he knew that if he stood a chance of passing the test at all, he had to study. Besides, his father was in the garage; he'd answer it. Steve sighed and went back to trying and failing to understand this formula. But he found himself trying to hear what was being said downstairs, to see if he recognised the voice at the door.
When Steve didn't recognise the voice, curiosity filled him and he left his bedroom and snuck to the top of the staircase and looked down at the front door and his heart sank. His dad was standing there, talking with a uniformed officer. Steve knew this wasn't good. He watched and listened to the tail-end of the conversation, as the officer said, "I'm very sorry for your loss, Detective."
His father nodded and shut the door gently. He looked up suddenly and saw his son standing there. Steve knew his father well enough that he could read all his facial expressions, and this one… Steve never wanted to see that look on his father's face ever again.
A little while later, Steve and Mary Ann were called downstairs and their father told them that their mother had been killed in a car accident. Mary had run straight back up to her room and cried her eyes out, refusing to come out all that evening. Steve sat in shock for he didn't know how long. He kept wishing that this was just a nightmare; he'd wake up and his mother would still be here. But this was anything but a nightmare.
Steve raises his head off the steering wheel and wipes his eyes. His life had been changed forever that day; a few days after his mother's death, his father had shipped him off to the US Naval Academy. He joined the Navy SEALs afterwards and he led an entirely different life than the one he had planned on originally. But in some ways, he was thankful for his mother's death; if Steve hadn't become a SEAL, he wouldn't have met the team, and he wouldn't have the ohana he did. Or had, rather.
Steve thinks back to how this had happened…
The team were all at Steve's house for a barbecue. It was Danny's weekend with his daughter, so he'd brought Grace along. The steaks had gone on the barbecue a little while ago and they were waiting for them to finish.
Steve checked the steaks and saw that they were nearly done. "The steaks are nearly done," he said to the others. "Danny, can you go get the sauces and stuff from the kitchen?"
The blond nodded and got up from his seat to go inside to the kitchen.
Steve looked back down at Grace. "You hungry, Gracie?" he asked, as he poked the steaks a bit more.
The little girl nodded. "I'm starving! I didn't have much to eat at lunchtime."
The three adults frowned. "Why's that?"
"Because school lunches are disgusting!" Grace replied, as if the answer should have been obvious.
They laughed at that, as Danny came back out of the kitchen, carrying a couple of bottles. "You're out of barbecue sauce, Super SEAL," he said as he set the other bottles down on the table. "So I am going to go and get some from the shops."
"No Danny, it's fine. I think we can survive without barbecue sauce with steak for once," Steve argued.
"Yeah, but I have to go get Grace's maths book from Rachel, as well. She left it there this morning. I will be back in," Danny glanced at his watch, "Half an hour, about. Grace, your swimming costume is in your bag. Why don't you play in the water with Auntie Kono while I'm gone, yeah?"
Grace's face lit up at her father's suggestion. "Okay, Danno!" she said and went with Danny to get her bag from the car. She came back just as the others heard the Camaro drive away from the house. Kono went and got her bag from her car as well, and the two of them played in the water for a while, waiting for Danny to get back with the barbecue sauce.
When Danny was a few minutes late, no-one thought anything of it; they thought Danny was probably talking to Rachel about something and it was taking longer than he thought. But when ten minutes passed and there was no sign of Danny, Steve started to get worried. He called Danny a few times, but each call went to voicemail. Steve left a message each time.
"Hey Danno, did you get lost? Come on, we're all waiting for you."
"Danny, what are you doing? Come on; get back here."
"Danny, seriously brah, where are you? Grace is starting to get worried, and frankly, so am I. Give me a call back and tell me what you're doing, so I can calm Grace down."
"Enough is enough, Danny. If you don't call me back soon, I'm going to put an APB out on you. Hurry up and get back here."
Finally, Steve had had enough; he told the others he was going to find Danno and drag him back to the house, which elicited a small smile from the little girl at the thought. But when Steve opened the front door, Duke was standing there, fist raised, as if he was about to knock.
"Hey Duke, what are you doing here?" Steve asked. Duke had a solemn look on his face that Steve had only seen once before. He got an uneasy feeling in his gut. "Duke?"
"Steve… there's been an accident," Duke said slowly, and Steve's stomach dropped out of him and through the floor.
"Is it…?" Steve got choked up halfway through; he couldn't finish the question. He already knew, but he prayed to God that he was wrong.
"I'm so sorry." Those three words broke Steve's heart. Duke went on to explain what had happened, but Steve only heard bits.
"Responded to a robbery… car pursuit… red light… Camaro… dead on scene..."
Steve stood there in shock, barely able to understand what had happened.
Danny was dead… His best friend was gone…
Steve looked behind him at the others out on the lanai. He turned back to Duke with tears in his eyes. "How can I tell my best friend's daughter her daddy's dead?" he whispered.
Steve shakes his head slightly, forcing himself to leave the painful memory. He starts his truck and drives away from the Medical Examiner's office, back to his house. When he arrives half an hour later, he sees that Chin and Kono are still here, which doesn't surprise him. The cousins are sitting on the sofa when he goes in, Chin's arm wrapped around his younger cousin's shoulders. Both of them have been crying; there are dried tear tracks down both their cheeks, although tears are still dripping down Kono's cheeks.
They both look up when Steve opens the door, but make no move to get up. Steve shuts the door again and sits next to them. Kono doesn't hesitate in pulling Steve into the hug, and Chin puts his arm around him too. Steve hugs them back and before he can try to stop them, the tears start falling again and he sobs quietly. That's all it takes for Chin and Kono to start off again. They all sit in each other's embrace, taking comfort in the fact that, even though Danny is gone, they still have each other. They will never forget Danny, and they can start to heal with the memories they have of Daniel Williams.
The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity – Lucius Annaeus Seneca