Wow! Thank you so much for the wonderful response to the story so far! To know that you are all enjoying it so much warms my heart (and it makes me want to post it faster, which is why you're getting another chapter today). I'm still tinkering with parts of this story, but hope to have those chapters finalized soon so I can meet my goal of getting it published in full before the next season starts. This is a nice long chapter. I considered breaking it into two, but I think it flows better as it is - I hope you'll enjoy reading!


Endgame
Chapter 4

McGarrett Residence
Monday, 1645 hours

Steve was puttering around getting ready for Catherine's arrival. He was pleased his return home hadn't been delayed by a case. He hadn't told anybody on the team that Catherine was in town and they were spending time together. They had agreed to meet at his place so they could have a more intimate conversation and he was having difficulty trying to stay busy waiting patiently for her to arrive.

He had enjoyed seeing her the previous evening; there was no question that all the old feelings were still there. Yet, there was something giving him pause. He supposed part of it was still the residual pain from how badly she'd hurt him. And part of it was probably concern and some guilt over what he hadn't yet told her about his medical condition. He hoped they would be able to work through everything, because if there was any chance that they might be able to reconcile he wanted so badly to be take it and move forward together.

The bell rang exactly at 1700 hours and he answered the door with a smile which turned into a frown as he saw the bag over her shoulder. He invited her in, leaned in to give her a quick peck on the cheek then stepped back.

"You brought a bag…" he said, just leaving it at that.

He held out his hand to take it from her and place it on the floor. It was kind of a large bag for overnight but he didn't want to make any assumptions.

"I uh, I got a call about an hour ago. I've been recalled to Langley," she told him apprehensively.

"What? When do you have to leave?"

"Tonight. I'm on the 2210 red eye."

"But you just got here! I was hoping we could talk, I was going to grill some steaks, open a bottle of wine…"

"And we can still do all that," she reminded him gently. "I don't have to leave for a few hours." Steve didn't respond right away and Catherine immediately corrected herself. "I'm sorry," she reached for the bag. "I shouldn't assume. I can leave—"

"No! No. Sorry, you're right. We have three hours, four if I drive you to the airport and flash my badge to escort you through security, and I want to make the most of them. I guess I'm just disappointed that you're leaving so soon. I thought you were here for a week."

"I thought so, too. But I should be able to come back in two weeks and stay longer."

Steve sighed. "Okay. Then it is what it is and we'll make do with the time we have," he said, trying not to ruin their evening before it even got started. "Why don't we start again?" He smiled then leaned over and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. "Hi," he said warmly. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Hi," she replied. "What else did I have to do?" she said, laughing. "I'm kind of on vacation here, right?"

"Right," he agreed with a smile. "So, what did you do today? Anything interesting?"

"I slept in for hours, and it felt so good. Then I had breakfast, picked up the car and some other things and spent an hour by the pool. It was nice to just sit in the sun, I've missed it," she said. "I had briefly considered going to Kamekona's, because I've been having a craving, but I wasn't sure if anyone else knew I was back on the island, so…"

"Uh… No. I haven't told anyone you're back," he said. "I'm sorry – is that okay? It's not that I'm ashamed of you being here," he reassured her. "I want to tell everyone. But I wasn't… I just needed to know," he paused, trying to find the right words, "what we still are to each other, I guess, before I tried to explain it to Danny."

"It's okay," she told him warmly, "I understand."

He nodded his head. "Okay." He smiled. "I thought we'd sit outside," he said as guided her towards the lanai. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Is it too early to open the wine?" she asked, jokingly.

He chuckled. "No, I suppose not—"

"Steve, I'm kidding." She smiled at him. "Water would be great, thank you."

He detoured into the kitchen as she made her way out to the lanai. He joined her a few minutes later with two glasses of water and a plate with fruit and cheese. "You mentioned wanting a snack, so I thought, just in case…" he said, as he put the plate down.

"Hmmm… thanks," she said, choosing a slice of cheddar and some grapes. "This is perfect." She had a bit more then paused. "I probably shouldn't eat too much. What are we having for dinner?"

"I was going to put together a salad and grill some steaks, if that's okay."

"Sounds wonderful. I've missed your steaks," she told him with a smile.

He smiled in return, then shifted nervously.

"So, I know we didn't really get a chance to talk last night, but there are… things to say and I wanted to talk tonight. But now you have to leave and I'm not sure… I don't know if it's the right time."

"I think we should talk about whatever's on your mind. And if it's time for me to go and there's still more to say we can continue the conversation later. I won't be out of reach – so we'll still be able to talk while I'm there."

He nodded, thoughtfully. "Okay," he said hesitatingly, then repeated it with more conviction. "I've uh, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and have been reevaluating and figuring some stuff out." He looked down at his lap. "I'm getting older and… I've given so many years to the job, what am I going to have left in the end?" He paused to gather his thoughts and looked up at her. "I've missed you, since you left. And… I know I told you I couldn't wait," he took a deep breath, "but I don't think it's fair of me to blame you for leaving me when I didn't give you a lot of reason to stay."

"What? No. I—"

"Cath?" he interrupted, placing a hand on her knee, "Please let me get this out?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "Okay."

He looked up and out toward the water. "I realize now I took you for granted. I was never very good at telling you how I felt, I always assumed you just knew, but I should have said it more." He turned his attention back to her. "I still don't like that you lied to me about why you left, but now that I know the truth I can't say I don't understand why you did. Or why you're doing what you're doing." He rubbed his hand across his forehead. "I uh, I know I gave you an ultimatum when I told you I couldn't wait for you, but I…" he looked at the ocean again and finished softly, "now I think I shouldn't have done that."

She watched him for a moment. "Steve," she said, waiting for him to turn to look at her. "I don't… what exactly are you saying?"

He reached out for her hand and she placed it in his. "I know in Morocco you told me you're happy doing what you're doing. And if that's true I don't want to take that away from you." He closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths before meeting her gaze. "But I guess I'm wondering… if I were to ask you today to choose, and I'm not," he paused and emphasized, "I'm not, but… if I did… ask you again to choose between me and your job… uh, what would you say?" When she didn't answer right away he looked away, then out at the ocean before turning back to her.

She cleared her throat. "Um, I –" she said quietly. "It's not that easy. I- I can't just walk away, you know that."

He squeezed her hand. "I understand that, I do." He nodded. "I get that it's a process, but let's forget about that for a moment. Let's assume you have the power to tell the CIA to take a hike. If our relationship were back on the table and you had to choose between your career as a spy and a future with me…" he released her hand and scrubbed both of his vigorously over his face, then took the conversation in a slightly different direction. "I know you told me our relationship wasn't enough for you, and I believed you then. But now, I'm wondering whether that was you or your cover story talking." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, steeling himself. "So hypothetically, if I asked again, what would you pick?"

"Steve, I –," She sighed heavily. "What you're asking… what we had, being with you, meant so much to me but I," she brought a hand to her chest "didn't have a choice last time. Choosing our relationship," she waved a hand between them, "wasn't an option. I didn't lie in Morocco. The truth is I do like my job, I like helping to make the world a better place and I'm good at it. But it also keeps me busy so I spend a lot of time alone. And sometimes I do get lonely and I wish..." her voice trembled and she took a deep breath to regain some control. "I try not to think about the future because, like you said, what happens when I can't do it anymore? I honestly don't know, except I'll have nothing to show for everything it's cost me."

She was fighting tears and he knew she would refuse to let her emotions get the best of her. She paused for a moment and sounded stronger when she continued, "I don't know what happens in the future because," she looked away, took a long, slow breath in and blew it out, "because I always thought it would be you and me, you know?" She turned to face him. "And now I can't see myself in a relationship with anyone else," she said softly and Steve flinched, "so I guess I try to just live in the present and not worry about what will happen years down the road. What else can I do?"

"I know, I get it," he said empathetically, but pressed on, "But you didn't answer my question."

She stood suddenly, and turned to face him. "Because it doesn't matter," she said, waving her hand. She was getting frustrated and her volume was increasing. "I don't see a happy ending for you and me." She turned away before continuing quietly. "I have hurt you so many times, and I know you, there's no way you ever can get over that." She turned back and her voice held more confidence when she continued. "And you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be happy with someone you can come home to every night. Get married, have kids if you want…" She paused again and turned away, fighting for composure.

He rose and stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "What you said?" he told her. "About the future? I've been thinking about that a lot myself and… wondering if the sacrifices have been worth it." He gently turned her to face him. "I'm forty-one years old now and it gets harder every year. I guess maybe it was the transplant that started me thinking about what happens when I can't to the job anymore. And the idea of having someone to come home to every night…" he slid his hands down her arms and grasped both her hands. "I think I want that. I know I wanted that with you and I regret that by the time I finally figured it out it was too late."

"Steve-"

"No, let me finish, please?"

She nodded.

He moved away a few paces before coming back to stand a few feet away with his hands on his hips. "Since I found out you joined the CIA I've been realizing some things about my mother," he said. "She tried to have it all." He waved his hand in a circle. "She gave up her life with the CIA for a future with my dad and they had a, a good life for a lot of years. And after I found out Doris was still alive, well, for a long time I assumed she left us because she missed the life too much and I resented her for that." He shook his head slowly. "But now, I don't think so. I know she loved my dad and me and Mary very much and I don't think she left us because she regretted her decision to become a wife and a mother. Now I believe she faked her death for the same reason my dad sent Mary and me away." He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "It took me a long time to come to terms with it, but both my parents did what they did because they were trying to protect us." He closed the distance between them. "I get what that's like now. I know what it feels like to be scared of losing someone who means everything to you and to want to protect them at all costs. And when that happened to me…," he sighed and looked away for a moment, "rather than bringing you in closer and making the most of whatever time we had together I pushed you away."

"Steve, you never pushed me away," she admonished.

"Yeah, I did. Emotionally I did. And it wasn't fair to you. I wasn't willing to give you up, but I wasn't willing to give you what you needed from me, either."

"Steve, I don't… what are you saying?"

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before opening them to gaze deeply into hers. "I'm saying that I still love you." He noticed the sudden wetness that sprang to her eyes and used the pads of his thumbs to gently wipe it away before gently cradling her face with both hands. "And if you still love me, maybe that's enough. Or maybe it's not, but I think we owe it to ourselves to find out. I'm saying maybe there's a chance for us, if you want."

She was quiet for almost a minute while Steve held his breath. "Wow," She finally said. "I need um… I think I need a little time to…" she stepped back minutely. "Wine. Wine would be good. Do you have any red?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure I do," he said, knowing full well he'd stocked up on her favorite varietal.

He went inside, opened a bottle of wine and carried it and two glasses back out, setting them on the table.

She eyed the label. "You remembered," she said softly.

"Of course I remembered," he replied. The look they shared was so intense he felt himself falling into the deep pools of her brown eyes. He realized quickly they were moving too fast and he needed to lighten the mood. "Yeah. It was part of BUD/s. You know - committing important details to memory," he said lightly.

"Was there a particular focus on wine selections or…" she teased.

"Only for reds, I guess they figured we didn't need to know whites," he replied cheekily, pouring two glasses before turning serious again. "I know all of what I just said… is a lot and you probably need some time to… process. Why don't you go sit by the water for a bit? I can go do some dinner prep or something."

"That sounds like a good idea," she told him with a soft smile. "I think I will."

She turned and headed toward the Adirondack chairs near the beach. He watched her sit before turning and going into the house to work on the salad. He situated himself by the window so he could see her while he washed lettuce and chopped vegetables. Once he had everything assembled he prepped the steaks and let them sit to come up in temperature a bit. He carried a tray with plates and flatware outside and set it on the table before moving over and lighting the grill. Satisfied he was ready to make dinner any time he picked up the wine bottle and made his way down to the beach.

"Hey, you ready for a refill?" he called out quietly as he approached, not wanting to startle her.

She turned and held up her glass. "Yeah, that would be great."

He poured and recorked the bottle.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "No, not at all." He crossed in front of her and sat in his usual chair, placing the wine bottle down on the sand, twisting so it in so it would stay upright.

"Looks like it's going to be a nice sunset tonight," he said.

"Yes, it does," she murmured.

They sat in companionable silence for a little while.

"So, grill's on. I can put the steaks on in about ten minutes, if you're hungry."

"I am getting kind of hungry," she admitted.

"Okay, I'll go back up there and get them going. You want to come up in about fifteen?"

She smiled. "Sounds perfect."

He picked up the wine and returned to the lanai, placing the bottle on the table. He retrieved the steaks and salad from the kitchen and got the steaks going on the grill then poured himself more wine and sat, watching her down by the water. He checked the steaks a few times and was just finishing setting the table when she appeared next to him.

"Perfect timing," he told her with a smile.

He pulled out her chair for her and she served salad onto the plates while he got the steaks off the grill. He placed the plate on the table and took his seat. He picked up his glass and held it out before he realized it might be premature to celebrate.

"To…," he trailed off.

She raised her glass. "How about to rekindling friendship and seeing where it leads?" she proposed.

He smiled and nodded before clinking his glass with hers. They each took a sip and tucked into their food.

"So, I gave you a lot to think about…" Steve commented leadingly a few minutes into the meal.

"You did." She put down her fork. "Um… before we get into that I feel like I should…" She shook her head. "Let me start again. I have missed you so, so much. Not just being with you in the same time zone, but having you to talk to as my best friend. Work keeps me busy, but I am lonely. I guess that's the nature of the business…" she trailed off. "I still care about you so much, and I've dreamed about the idea of another chance, but when I left that last time… I thought we were done and you were moving on. And I didn't blame you," she added hurriedly, "it wasn't fair of me to ever have expected you to keep waiting." She looked away for a moment, "But I guess maybe part of me did," she added quietly, "and after the last time I was here… meeting Lynn… you seemed like you were happy." She looked at him and he saw her eyes were wet. "And, as much as I wanted to be the one to make you happy…" she trailed off, unable to continue and wiping at her eyes.

He picked up the conversation. "I know you told me you're happy doing what you're doing, and I respect that. But do you want more?"

"I am happy," she said slowly. "But I do feel like something's missing…" she said, getting teary again. "But I just don't think it's possible for me to have both." She slid her chair back. "I'm sorry, will you excuse me for a minute?" She didn't want to break down in front of him and quickly disappeared into the house for a short while, returning when she'd regained her composure. She retook her seat before continuing. "Sorry."

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded and dove right back in. "You said you still love me and think we owe it to ourselves to see if there might be a way to make it work."

He nodded.

"Can I ask… how are you thinking that would work? I just… I don't think it would be fair to you with how often I'll have to leave and how much I could be away. We'd be out of touch for long periods, and you wouldn't know what I'm doing – I know that would be hard for you."

They were both quiet for several moments, Catherine watched Steve, waiting for him to speak.

"So, you'd choose the job?" he finally asked quietly.

She sighed, a little exasperated. "That's not what I said. I haven't answered that question because I can't. Even if I wanted to choose you I can't just walk away, not right now. I'm in the middle of something big that I need to see through to the end. And that could take years, I don't know. But where would that leave us?" She held up her hands. "What, you want to revisit this when the op is done?"

Steve considered his answer. "No," he said slowly. "I don't think that's what I want. I want…" he closed his eyes and pursed his lips, trying to find the right words, "I want to choose you. To make time for you, prioritize you in my life as much as possible. I haven't always been very good at that but I want to try. And I know it's not fair that you'd have to give up your job and I wouldn't. But I guess I'm asking anyway. Would you choose me? Do you even want to?"

She bit her lip, considering. "I want to," she finally told him, "so much." Her smile faded. "But I don't know if I could. It wouldn't be fair to you. You deserve to be happy with someone who can be here for you all the time. And I can't. Not right now."

"And if I disagree?"

"About which part, exactly?"

"That it wouldn't be fair. What if I'm willing to wait for you until the op is done? We've done it before and you know it. For years, that was our relationship."

"But things are different now," she cut off his protest, "you know they are. The situation has changed. It's not like years ago when you were deployed all over the world and too busy to miss me. You're settled here now, and we've had a taste of what it's like to be together full time."

He shook his head. "I always missed you when we weren't together," he corrected her with a sad smile and a shrug. "But you're right, I know what's it's like to have you here full time. And, if I'm being honest, I want that again." He held up his hand, asking her to let him finish. "But I know that's not possible right now. I get that. And I know it would be hard because I would absolutely miss you when you were gone. But that's the choice, isn't it? I tried moving on," he said, waving his hand. "Lynn and I dated for almost two years," he didn't miss her flinch at his words, "but it never got serious."

"Are you two still together?"

"No, that's over."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"She's not you," he said simply.

"Wow, uh..." Catherine swiped at the tears that had suddenly sprung to her eyes. "I don't know how I'm supposed to respond to that."

"You could try being happy," he told her, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Right." She returned, with the same tone. "Because there's no pressure there. You tell me we should consider giving it another shot, that you're willing to wait for me. But what about how I feel?"

"You won't tell me how you feel! You still haven't answered the damn question!" he exclaimed, his frustration bubbling over. The conversation was not going at all how he expected.

"I know," she said sharply, then paused, inhaled and exhaled before starting again with a gentler tone. "I know, and I'm sorry. I think… I think maybe I should finish up and go."

Steve's brow furrowed. "You want to leave now? But you don't need to be at the airport for two hours."

"I know. I just… I don't want to fight with you and I think maybe I- we both need some time to think about what we want."

He sighed. "I understand. I just…" he closed his eyes. "Please don't go. Not yet. We have a little more time together and I'd like to spend it with you. I'm sorry if I pushed too hard - we don't have to talk anymore if you're not ready."

She was touched by how sincerely he had expressed his feelings. "Okay," she finally said. "But, will you excuse me again a moment?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I'm not running away, I just need to go to the bathroom."

After she left the table Steve sat with his head in his hands. How had this evening gone so far off the rails? Was it just that he had he been too aggressive by laying it all out there all at once? Or was it she wasn't interested in trying to rekindle their relationship?

She returned and sat on the edge of her seat, like she didn't want to get comfortable. When silence reigned for a full minute she spoke softly. "That you would even consider taking me back is… I can't even tell you. And please don't think because I'm not jumping at the chance that it's not what I want because that couldn't be further from the truth." He looked up at her, finally. "But I feel like we need to be careful here or we could both get hurt again. And I don't want that. So, I just need some time to think… but I'm worried you'll resent me for needing it."

He sighed. It wasn't what he'd wanted to hear, but he appreciated her honesty. "I understand. And I don't resent you. I've had time to think about this and I guess I just hoped…" he trailed off. "But that's not fair to you."

"Are we okay?" she asked softly.

He rose and offered her his hand to help her to her feet. "We're okay," he told her quietly before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. She nestled into his shoulder as he held her close and breathed in the scent of her shampoo. They relished the feel of each other for a few minutes before breaking apart.

Catherine cleared her throat. "Um, why don't I help you clean up," she offered.

"You don't need to do that," he told her.

"You shouldn't have to clean up, you cooked."

"That's okay, been doing it myself for years."

"Right," she said, softly, unable to look at him.

Steve stacked the plates and silverware and Catherine gathered the napkins and wine glasses.

As he started to head into the house she said, "I'm just going to call for an Uber then I'll be right in."

"You don't have to get a car, I'll drive you," he told her.

"Thanks, but I uh," she sighed. "I think I'd rather say goodbye to you here," she admitted.

A few minutes later she arrived in the kitchen with the remainder of the dishes. "Car will be about 10 minutes," she said. They worked together to get everything loaded in the dishwasher or washed by hand until her phone dinged with a text.

"Driver's about two minutes out," she said and wiped her hands on a dish towel.

He followed her to the door and picked up her bag. "If it's okay, I think I'd rather say goodbye to you in here," she said, softly.

"Yeah, I understand." He pulled her into another hug. "Have a safe flight," he said, and then moved back. "Let me know when you get there?"

"I will." She replied and took the bag from him. "See you in two weeks, right?"

"Yeah. Two weeks." He opened the door for her.

"Okay, bye," she said and walked past him.

He shut the door behind her and, not wanting to watch her leave, walked through the house then continued out the back door. He proceeded immediately down to the beach and sat heavily in one of the old wooden chairs. He heard the faint sounds of a car door closing and then heard a vehicle drive away.

He put his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. "Aloha, Cath," he said sadly.


A/N: I suspect a good many of you are not happy with me right now - and you have every reason to feel that way. But they've both been through the wringer when it comes to their relationship and it's going to take a bit of time to really repair that. So all I ask is that you please stick with the story, I promise you it's far from over!