"Okay, Lou. That's the end of our session today."

Startled, Grover looks up. In the two weeks since the incident with Nika this is the third appointment he's had with the therapist. For the first two sessions the therapist had done most of the talking. This time had been his turn.

He feels like he's been through a gun battle with Nika's men all over again.

His injuries have healed mostly; it's only if he moves too fast that his ribs twinge, reminding him of what they went through. In the next few days he'll be going back to desk duties. After that, once the therapist has cleared him, he'll be going back to full duties.

With a shaky smile Grover gets to his feet, making another appointment before he leaves the office. His phone vibrates in his pocket as he talks to the receptionist. It's probably Renee; she's worried, has been ever since she and the kids returned from Maui. He knows he's given her reason to worry; he's been waking in a cold sweat nearly every night.

He straightens his shoulders as he steps outside, gives himself a moment to drink in the sunlight. It's midday, busy with lunchtime traffic, the world is carrying on. It's one of the things he's found hardest to deal with; the horror of what they'd been forced to watch in the Governor's incident room seems unreal, it's only at night the real horror comes out. Until today; today's session had been about bringing the memories out into the daylight.

A cold shiver runs down his spine.

The sound of his phone ringing makes Grover shake himself down and take a deep breath. He's about to answer when he notices it's not Renee calling. "Danny?" he answers. "Everything okay?" There's a pause at the other end, he feels his anxiety levels ramping up. They've kept in touch over the last few weeks. It's not always been an easy time.

"Just thought you might need someone to…talk to. You're looking kinda serious there, big guy."

It takes a second for the words to sink in and then he looks around, confused. Across the parking lot he finally sees it; a black Camaro. Repaired after the firefight, its paintwork is sparkling in the sunlight. Relief bubbles up, quashing some of the lingering memories. At least Danny was there, he understands what it feels like.

Sending a text to Renee to tell her he'll get a lift back with Danny he reminds himself what the therapist keeps telling him; none of the way he is feeling is his fault.

"How you doing?" he asks as he slides into the passenger seat. The seat is way too close to the dashboard so it takes a few minutes of fiddling with it before he can fit his legs in. When he finally looks up Danny shrugs at him before starting the car. Ah.

"How did your session go?" Danny asks as they join the highway. Eyes fixed on the traffic, he's got both hands on the wheel. Lou can't remember the last time he saw his friend drive like that; his body is usually moving, even in the car.

It's a great attempt at deflecting. It's a shame it's not going to work. "Tough one, huh?"

With an impatient huff Danny finally looks at him. "How about I don't want to talk about it?"

"How about I do?"

"Lou…"

"Danny…"

"Fine! It was shitty, okay?" his friend shoots back. "Details, Lou. I had to go over the details. And every time…every time I do that I keep thinking of something else I could have done different. Something to stop Steve…to stop Nika…" His knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, Danny's voice trails off. Biting his lip he looks away.

"Sorry." Grover looks out of the window, guilt making his stomach roil. It's not in his nature to cause someone pain but there's already too many people not talking about what happened. If Danny does the same, locks it all away, he's not sure how he'll keep going. How Steve will keep going.

And Danny did wait for him after his own appointment. Whether the other man knows it or not, he wants to talk.

"I had to do the same," he says into the heavy silence, hoping Danny understands, relieved when his friend nods. "It always feels so real, you know?"

"I know." Danny's sighed reply speaks volumes.

They fall into another silence but it's easier, Grover notes with relief. The last thing he wants is to be on his own, with only his thoughts for company. And as Danny gradually starts talking about the kids and the traffic and anything else that catches his eye he guesses his friend feels the same.

"I'm going over to Steve's. You wanna come with?" The offer comes in the middle of a very long monologue about the cost of Grace's dance classes. Grover's brain blips at the question, just long enough for Danny to frown and wave his question away. "Hey, don't worry. I'll take you home if—"

"No, I'm good. Let's go," he interrupts, deliberately injecting a positive note into his tone. It's not that he doesn't want to see his friend. It's just the guilt he feels every time he sees him doesn't seem to be getting less.

They all seem to be stuck in a loop of regrets.

By the time they pull up in McGarrett's driveway though Grover's in a more positive frame of mind. He's spoken to Renee, explained the change of plan. Her voice is like a soothing balm on his mind and although he can hear the worry in his voice she covers it well. He's promised to cook dinner, just the four of them, and he's smiling when he tucks the cell back in his pocket.

His good mood lasts all of five minutes. Steve seems off, surprised to see them, despite the fact at least one of the team always visits him to share lunch. A quick glance at Danny tells him he's not imagining it.

"You okay, Steve?" Danny asks, pushing past his partner and through to the kitchen. Lips pursed in a tight line, Steve follows him, his eyebrows drawn together into a V. "You got food in here? We're starving."

The question is rhetorical, Grover knows that. They've been taking it in turns to visit Steve and make sure he's got food; the man could survive a natural disaster on the amount of supplies they've got stockpiled in his house. So it's a big surprise when Steve, who's still standing in the kitchen doorway, shakes his head.

Head cocked, Danny studies his partner, his nose scrunching up at what he sees. "You got an appointment? Somewhere else you need to be?"

"No," Steve replies, shuffling on the spot, his feet bare beneath his boardies. "I just… I'm not hungry."

"Really?"

The disbelief in Danny's voice is clear and Grover understands why. The first ten days had been rough on their friend. Food hadn't been high on his agenda. The last few days though it had felt like they'd turned a corner. Steve had been eating more, interacting more. Granted, talk had still been hard to come by but they were working on that.

Or at least he'd thought they were.

Much of the bruising on Steve's face has faded down to a mottled yellow. There's one huge dark bruise left; the Doctors' had been surprised his jaw wasn't broken. He's still paler than normal but the worrying heat in his cheeks has gone. The skin under his eyes is still grey, giving his eyes a sunken appearance. But there's been a spark of life back in them over the last few days. Grover feels his heart sink as he studies Steve now; his expression is closed down, just like it had been in the hospital.

"Fine. I'll just make something for me and Lou then."

That's not the answer Steve was hoping for, Grover notes, as the other man looks away, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He uses his sound hand to rub at his injured shoulder, his fingers resting on the worn tee-shirt material, massaging the muscle underneath. It's obvious he's in some discomfort but asking about it won't help.

On the other side of the kitchen Danny's got his head in the fridge, sorting through the contents, making hmpf noises as he works. He's annoyed, Grover acknowledges, as he moves on to the cupboards, obviously familiar with his partner's house.

Since the warehouse they've all had good days and bad ones. It's looking like today was going to be a bad one for all of them. Maybe coming over straight after their sessions with their therapists wasn't such a bright idea. Everything's too raw, too fresh in his memory. It's making it difficult to think about anything else, Grover admits to himself, grimacing as the memories nudge at the edge of his consciousness, like a lingering nightmare that won't go away.

"You okay, Lou?" The concern in Steve's voice is just wrong. It's not him who should be worried about them. Grover doesn't get a chance to reply though; forehead creased, Steve's working something out. "Damn, I forgot you had your appointment with—"

"Stop talking. Start eating you big lug." Danny's sliding in between them, nudging his partner on his good arm, trying to move him towards the kitchen table.

Steve stubbornly plants his feet, his good hand automatically coming up to cup his bad shoulder. 'Fragile' is the word that springs into Grover's mind. And it makes him feel guilty as hell.

"Eat." Now he's the one who Danny's nudging towards the table. Danny's expression is enough to make him do as he's told; he's not the only one who's struggling. "We're fine, okay?" Danny adds as Steve glares at him but takes a seat anyway.

They've barely started eating though before there's a knock at the front door. Sighing Steve carefully places his fork on top of his untouched food.

"You expecting someone, Steven?" Danny asks, instantly suspicious.

Steve pushes himself to his feet. "I told you I wasn't hungry," he mutters and disappears out the door.

"What the hell…?" With a frown Danny gets up to look out of the kitchen window. When he curses under his breath Grover gets up to join him.

There's a black sedan outside. With Navy insignia on the side.

"Damn." Grover knows he's already talking to himself. Danny's striding out of the kitchen, his expression murderous. The Navy insignia has acted on Danny like a red rag on a bull. He's still angry about how loyal his partner is despite the way he thinks the Navy has treated him. And the fact that Steve was trying to keep the visit secret doesn't bode well.

Out in the living room Grover's confronted with a standoff. On one side of the coffee table Danny is standing hand on hips, chin jutted out, ready to do battle. On the other side there's a woman in Navy uniform, beside her is a man in a dark suit, white shirt and suit. The tie he's wearing looks ridiculously out of place. CIA his brain suggests and he feels his stomach sink to his feet.

And off to one side Steve's standing with his feet planted wide, his good arm cradling his bad one, his head tipped back as he studies the ceiling. Grover imagines he can hear teeth grinding.

"Commander McGarrett, as we explained to you on the phone the information we are going to share with you is classified so—"

"Classified?"

"—it's classified," the woman continues, ignoring Danny's outburst, "so there cannot be any civilians present. If you would like us to leave we—"

"It's fine." Steve's Navy tone is back, Grover notes with a sense of foreboding.

Three people in the room immediately stand taller. Unfortunately Danny seems immune. "Yeah, it's fine," he raps out, pinning the two strangers to the spot with his gaze. "We're Five-0, so that kind of means we're not civilians. There's nothing you could say that would surprise us. We've been working with this idiot for too long."

Grover's not sure if it's the word 'idiot' or Danny's deliberate misunderstanding of the situation that gets Steve's attention but finally he looks down, his expression tired but determined. "I need to talk to them, okay?"

"What are you going to talk to them about?"

"Danny…"

"Because last time the CIA and Navy came knocking that didn't go so well." Danny's building up to a rant of epic proportions, Grover can see that. The two strangers are watching with no discernible expression on their faces. "And I for one would prefer not to live through that again."

Grover feels himself suck in a sharp breath. Danny's only voicing exactly what he'd been thinking too. But the words still cut deep.

"Danny. Please."

Steve's exhausted plea cuts even deeper. He can see that on Danny's face; the sorrow in his eyes, the way he's biting his bottom lip as he looks away. The visitors shuffle, their boredom clear. Grover throws them a look and they freeze, guilt flashing across their faces.

Raising two teenage kids is equipping him with all sorts of life skills.

"So if I leave you alone with these two shmucks, will you be here when we get back?" Danny's delivered his question calmly but there's a world of hurt underlying it. Grover can feel it tugging painfully like an invisible tie between them.

"I will." Steve's voice is so quiet they can barely hear him.

Danny considers his friend for a moment, head tilted to one side. "Fine."

Decision apparently made he strides back into kitchen. When he reappears with two plates of food Grover can't contain a smile. "One of those for me?" he asks, holding out his hand. "We going al-fresco?"

"We are. What?" he adds, as the CIA man opens his mouth. "You didn't actually think we were going to leave, did you?"

From the look on the two visitors' faces it's clear they did. But Steve stops any more arguments by stiffly reaching around them to grab a cushion and throw it on the recliner. As he lowers himself down, shifting the cushion to support his back, the visitors mirror him, their eyes still full of distrust. "Enjoy your lunch," he throws back over his shoulder, his gaze sharpening as he turns his attention on the two interlopers.

"Enjoy your lunch," Danny mutters under his breath as they go out onto the lanai, closing the door behind them. To Grover's surprise they carry on walking through the yard and down to the water's edge. "Why the hell won't he tell us what is going on?"

Grover waits until they're seated before replying. "Give him time."

"You saying I need to be patient?" Danny retorts around a mouthful of food. "'Not really my strong point, Lou."

"Let's just see what happens," he encourages, chewing slowly on his own food.

They fall into an uneasy silence, lost in their own thoughts. Grover finds his attention drifting back to the house; beside him he can sense Danny doing the same.

"So what do you think they're talking about," Danny says, once they've finished their food. "It's gotta be about Nika, right? I mean, there's nothing else?"

I damn well hope so Grover thinks but keeps it to himself. The McGarrett house has always been a place of secrets. There's got to be more hidden in the woodwork.

The way Danny's looking at him suggests he's thinking the same thing. "Okay, I know there's always something else with Steve," he says, confirming Grover's thoughts. "But I figure we've gotta get lucky sometime, huh?"

"Yup."

"Yup?" Danny looks over at him, arms frozen mid-wave and he lets himself smile. "That's all you've got?"

He pretends to seriously consider the question before replying, "Yup" again. He sobers up though when Danny settles back in his chair with an impatient huff. "Maybe they've got more news about Baker," he offers instead, verbalising the thoughts racing through his head. "The CIA guy came along for the ride for some reason. Or maybe," he adds hesitantly, not believing his own words but desperately wanting them to be true, "maybe Rosso's given them more information."

Danny's sceptical expression sums up his own feelings well. In the two weeks since they last saw him Stanley Rosso hasn't contacted them. The knowledge lies heavy in his gut and he knows it's at the root of the guilt that's been eating at him. They'd needed him to get the full story from Rosso.

"It's not your fault, Lou." Danny squeezes his shoulder lightly.

"I should have tried harder with Rosso," he replies, repeating what he'd told his therapist earlier that day. "I'm a cop, Danny. A good one."

"And so am I." The hand disappears from his shoulder and Grover feels himself tense in anticipation. "But I still let someone kidnap my partner and beat the crap out of him."

That statement is so untrue that Grover doesn't know where to start. Instead he returns Danny's gesture and rests a hand on his shoulder. "We'll get over this. We all will."

"I wish they'd hurry up." All of Danny's attention is fixed back on the house. "I don't trust them. We shouldn't have left him in there on his own."

He's not exactly defenceless Grover wants to say. But then he remembers his own thoughts earlier. That McGarrett looked fragile. Vulnerable.

Shit.

The sound of the front door closing breaks into their thoughts. They freeze, listening hard. Car doors slam, followed by the crunching noise of tyres running over gravel.

"You think it's safe to go in now?" he says but already he's talking to an empty space. Danny's heading for the lanai with a determined stride.

"Steve, you okay? Steve?" Danny's got foot in the living room and there's a note in his voice that gets Grover moving. As he makes it to the lanai he's more relieved than he's willing to admit to see Steve sitting where they'd left him. But his friend is sitting slouched on his couch, his head in his hands.

Danny pauses, unsure with the lack of response. But then he's moving in the way that only Danny can, wearing his emotions on his sleeve, his eyes soft with concern. "Babe?" he asks softly, sitting on the couch close to his partner, shifting so they're only inches apart. "Want to tell us what's going on?"

Danny's frustration of moments before has gone, Grover notes, as he takes a seat at the other end of the couch, easing himself down slowly to not disturb his friends. Right in this moment they are as close as they've ever been, safe in each other's space. They sit in silence until Danny gently nudges his friend with arm. He cocks an eyebrow when Steve finally lowers one hand to look at him sideways.

"When they called I thought they were coming to tell me…nothing, I guess," Steve explains, leaning back to look at each of them in turn. "I didn't think they were going to let me—" He halts, takes a deep breath, starts again. "I didn't tell you they were coming because I thought they wouldn't tell me anything. With Baker dead I figured…well I figured there'd be a cover up again."

"But?" Danny's voice is equal parts fear and hope, Grover thinks. He knows how he feels.

"I kept hoping that maybe…" Steve swallows, looks away and back again. "Rosso talked." Grover forces himself to sit still as Steve's gaze falls on him. "He told them what happened while he was held captive, what happened when we raided the compound."

"And?" Grover asks quietly when Steve falls silent again, lost in thought.

"He lied at the original enquiry."

They already knew that but Grover knows that's not what's making his heart thud. It's the fact that Rosso's admitted it, that the Navy and the CIA have done the same. It means they've got a chance of finding out the whole truth. Assuming everyone involved confesses.

"Nika?"

Danny's question goes unanswered but the look of disappointment on Steve's face gives them the information they need. It had been a long shot, Grover acknowledges. "And Baker?"

Steve's mouth moves but no words come out. "Take your time," Danny encourages as his partner huffs impatiently at himself. It can't be easy, Grover thinks, to suddenly have the facts to something that you've wondered about for so long. Whatever Steve's been told has left him shaken. It takes a lot to do that to the ex-SEAL.

During the next half hour they learn exactly what that is. Steve gradually gives them the details, putting the pieces together himself as he explains it to both of them.

Rosso's meeting with Nika's daughter in Afghanistan had been a setup, just as the ex-politician had claimed. Just who had done the setting up wasn't that clear. The CIA had claimed it was Nika but Grover can tell from Steve's voice he still suspects Baker's involvement. The lack of a CIA protection detail that night is highly suspicious. Either way, they're agreed on the reason for it: to discredit a senior member of the US Government. And Rosso had walked straight into the trap. His libido had delivered him into Nika's hands.

Just how Nika managed to kidnap Rosso so easily is still 'under investigation' Steve tells them with a snort of disbelief. Baker again, Grover thinks, putting the pieces together as well. Danny's brain is working along the same lines, he can tell. It's confirmed when he asks if the CIA guy said Baker was working alone. Steve's nod of affirmation doesn't fool either of them. Steve thinks the CIA guy was lying. But at least this time he'd got to look someone from the CIA in the eye and ask them.

There wasn't going to be a cover up this time.

Danny shifts closer, leans forward, as Steve starts to recount what happened to Rosso in captivity. Steve's good at compartmentalising. Grover's always admired that. But things are starting to blur together, the personal aspect and the job.

Rosso had been kept in a room with Nika's daughter. He still claimed he hadn't recognised her, had believed her claim that her father was an important supporter of the government and that Nika had kidnapped her for a ransom. She'd been distraught, he'd comforted her.

Terrified, confused, it had apparently never occurred to him that Nika was recording everything.

Staying alive was the only thing he'd been focused on. When Nika had got the call to say that SEAL teams had been deployed to their location his feeling of relief had overrun everything else. And that's when Nika's men had bought the local group of men, women and children into the room. Silent, scared, they'd been herded like sheep. Huddled, they'd waited.

Until they'd heard the helicopters approaching.

Chaos is the way Rosso had described it, Steve explained. Which was exactly how Steve had described it during their original briefing, Grover remembered. Noise. Shouting. People scared. So much noise it had been difficult to know what was going on.

"So what happened when Ed got there?" Danny prompts when Steve stops, his eyes drifting closed. "Steve?"

"Rosso doesn't speak Pashto." He opens his eyes as they stare back at him, waiting. "He thought they were threatening him, they were threatening Nika's daughter."

"But they weren't?"

"No." He rubs his eyes, sighs. "They were trying to warn him that Nika's brother was in the group with them."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Maybe the idea was to ambush us. I don't know…"

"So what, Rosso gets into a fight with them, someone's got a gun—"

"—Nika's brother."

"It goes off—"

"—automatic fire. Multiple casualties. Civilians," Steve raps out, like he's delivering a report.

"So Ed comes into the room and…?"

"Ed speaks…he spoke Pashto. And we'd been briefed about Nika's family. But now Rosso's wounded and yelling at him not to hurt her. Nika's brother is face down on the ground with a GSW. There's people screaming at him that one of the terrorists is in the room, he's got bodies everywhere and he just…he hesitated. Just for a split second but…"

It was enough for someone to get a shot off at him, Grover thinks, as his friend slumps back again.

Damn.

Danny mirrors Steve's posture, studying the ceiling, his face scrunched up in thought. "Okay. So Nika's brother's still had a gun. And Rosso lied at the enquiry. He was responsible for shooting the civilians, not Ed. He panicked, maybe he guessed he'd been set up. Or it was like Lou said; he was so scared he just lost it." He rubs his nose, clearly working something out. "That leaves one question. One big, very important question. If no one else in the room was armed, who shot Nika's daughter?"

It's also a necessary question, Grover acknowledges, even though Steve deflates even further. Ed had to be under threat to open fire on Nika's daughter. And Rosso, the target he'd been sent to rescue.

"It looks like she might have had a gun."

Suddenly alert, Danny's leaning forward again, peering at his friend. "Why am I not liking that look on your face?"

"It was Ed's comms recording, Danny." There's a pause and Grover feels his heart sink. "They showed me the video."

Grover feels his brain scrambling to catch up with that statement. Or maybe it's just refusing to believe it, he's not sure. Replaying difficult memories in your mind is one thing. But Steve's just been shown them again in real time.

Oh.

"Jesus." Danny shuffles closer to the recliner, shoring up his partner as Steve closes his eyes again. Grover pushes himself to his feet, swallowing back the emotion that's threatening to overwhelm him. This information is exactly what they were hoping for he reminds himself as he heads for the kitchen. But seeing a friend so visibly upset is always hard.

He takes a few minutes to potter around the kitchen, opening and closing doors loudly to fill the silence. When he finally hears movement back in the living room Grover pours two glasses of water and takes them back with him. When Danny offers him a glass Steve's eyes slide open again. He looks spent, every last bit of energy gone.

"So someone used the recording to blackmail Rosso." Grover says, making himself comfortable again. There's part of him that wants to back off now but there's something about Steve's posture that's telling him they need to see this through to the end. "Nika or Baker?"

Danny's busy making sure Steve takes a drink but he looks over with a frown. "Or both? What if this started off as one thing but then they realised they could help each other out? It wouldn't be the first time it'd happened."

Maybe Danny's right, Grover thinks, turning the theory over in his head. Nika definitely had the original picture of Rosso and his daughter. And he'd been prepared to use it to discredit Rosso; he'd left it on the burner phone for them to find.

If Baker had known about it surely he would have done something to stop it? More importantly, why hadn't the CIA done something?

"That might explain why he was at the warehouse with Nika," he offers, rubbing his hand over his head. "He wasn't tracking Nika, he was meeting him—"

"—and that meeting went south." Danny's nodding, short sharp nods as he gulps down his own drink.

"They said he was working outside of his jurisdiction. Baker, I mean," Steve elaborates, his attention on the glass in his hand, his finger drawing fat lines through the condensation. "Drug smuggling maybe. Money laundering. They're still investigating. Either way, they think he might have been working with Nika."

"And they thought they could use Rosso's contacts to help them?" Isn't that kinda risky?"

Steve shrugs at his partner's question, ignores him when Danny looks pointedly at the still full glass. "The CIA guy said they were tracking Nika, they did have concerns about his recent activity. Baker told us the truth about that."

"The truth? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"It's the CIA, Lou. What do you want me to say? That I trust them? That they didn't screw us over in Afghanistan?"

No. I want you to say you're angry, Grover thinks, watching his grip on the glass tighten. Hell, he wants to yell at people, get answers, get someone to stand in front of him so he can explain how much this all hurts. "Please don't tell me they're going to let Baker get away with this."

"The man's dead, Lou. What difference—"

"We know. We saw him," Danny cuts him off, frowning as he looks away and back again. "But that doesn't excuse what he did."

Steve's attention is suddenly on the glass again, his knuckles whitening. Danny throws him a worried glance across the table. "That was the other thing they came to tell me," he tells them, straightening his shoulders as he talks. "The Navy's going to hold an investigation. Not a full enquiry," he adds as Danny raises his hands, "but there will be interviews, panel hearings. They want to set the record straight."

"By dragging you back through it again? You told them the truth the first time, Steve. You and O'Neill and Brown. If they think they can-"

"Danny."

"-if they think they can just make you go over it all-"

"Danny. They can. And they will, okay?"

"No."

The glass makes a loud clink sound as Steve sets it on the table, turning all his attention on his partner. "I want to do this. This needs to end. I should never have dragged everyone into this."

"We talked about this-"

"No." Digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, Steve effectively stalls the mounting argument. "There's one more thing I need you both to understand," he adds, his voice rough as he lowers his hands. "You can tell Chin and Kono about this conversation but you can't tell anyone else."

"Okay." Grover feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickling at the tone in Danny's voice. "So what else are you not telling us?"

Steve's picking up the glass again, raising it to his lips, when it hits Grover what they've missed. "Didn't that lady from the Navy say the information was classified?"

"Steven?"

"You needed to know."

"You're risking your career."

"You deserve to know. I should never have asked you to help me—"

"If the Navy finds out what—"

"I don't care. I should never have put you in—"

"Stop." Danny's held up his hand, demanding attention. It's in direct contrast to his tone of voice, Grover notes. "We already talked about this in the hospital, didn't we?"

"I should have—"

"Didn't we?" He raises his hand again when he gets no reply. "Yes or no, babe?"

Teeth gritted, Steve finally answers. "Yes."

"And what did I say to you?"

"That none of this was my fault." Steve's jiggling his left foot, his bare toes curling into the wooden floor.

"So you don't owe—"

"Danny—"

"Nothing, Steven. You owe us nothing. Right, Lou?"

It takes Grover a second to realise Danny's waiting for an answer. "It was our choice," he agrees, leaning forward to move into their circle of confidence as Danny gives him a look of encouragement. "We wouldn't have had it any other way. You know that. Right?" he adds as Steve looks away.

With a wave of frustration Danny stands up. "Don't bother. He's not going to be happy unless he's blaming himself. Let's—"

"I thought they had you, Danny!" Steve's up on his feet and Grover feels himself rear back at the anger flashing in his friend's eyes, pretends not to notice that his hands are fisted tightly. "I thought Nika had you. Do you know how that felt? They could have killed—"

Steve lets out a surprised whoosh of air as Danny plants his hand firmly on his chest, crowding into his space. "Nika did have you! He had you, Steve. And that son of a bitch made us watch. And if you think we're just going to let you take the blame-" With a muttered curse, Danny backs off. "At least we had a choice," he says finally, running his hands through his hair as he turns away. "Unlike you."

The way Steve's chin jerks up makes Grover's chest constrict, painfully. Danny's got his head down though, his lip caught painfully between his lip, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Before Grover can say anything Danny's gone; the front door slams closed behind him.

"He's not mad with you," he says several minutes later into the painful silence. Steve's still standing, making him lean back in the couch to make eye contact. "Okay, he is angry with you," he corrects, "but that's not new. He's angry at the Navy." Steve's rapping his fists on his thighs, an angry, tight rhythm that's mesmerising. Lou forces himself to look up, tries not to feel hurt as Steve looks away. "I know it's crossed your mind that they knew about this cover up. That they sacrificed your friend to protect Rosso."

"I serve my country, Lou. The same as you. And Danny."

The staccato delivery sends a shiver down Grover's spine but he forces himself to carry on, to maintain eye contact despite everything about Steve's body language telling him to fuck the hell off. "I get that, Steve. I really do. But maybe it's time to think of yourself? To decide what you want," he continues, bracing himself for the fallout he knows is about to come. "Maybe it's time to decide what your priorities are."

Laughter fills the room. But it's a broken sound lacking Steve's normal warmth. "It's that easy, huh?" he asks, sitting back in the recliner with a wince.

"Easy? No," Grover admits, feeling his heart clench with sympathy as his friend pinches the bridge of his nose, every move exuding exhaustion now that his anger is spent.

"I know I've served my time. I get that. It's just…"

"You feel like you owe them?" Grover suggests, taking pity as Steve stutters to a halt. He's working on intuition, filling in the gaps of the information he knows about his friend. When Steve responds, slumping forward to rest his arms on his knees, he knows he's hit the jackpot.

He feels like a bastard for doing it though as Steve's rough-edged voice breaks the silence again. "The Navy gave me a home when I didn't have one. It's not that easy. I can't…I can't just walk away."

Some debts are just impossible to repay, Grover thinks, as his friend peers sideways at him, his eyes downcast like a child who's just confessed his greatest secret. "We understand that. All of us. But you can have more than one home."

Lips pressed together in a tight line, hands knitted together, Steve leans back into the recliner and closes his eyes. Grover takes the hint; the conversation is over. It's been a long, long day.

Reaching over he taps Steve on the leg before levering himself upwards. "I'm going to head out, man."

He's made it all the way to the front door when Steve speaks again, regret woven through his words. "I was just trying to keep everyone safe. I'm sorry I screwed up."

"And I'm sorry we didn't get there sooner." The words are out of Grover's mouth before he knows it and as much as they hurt there's a feeling of immense relief that they're out in the open. The only response he gets from Steve though as he opens the front door is a small shift of the recliner.

Closing the door carefully behind him he takes in several deep lungfuls of air. The Camaro's still parked at the end of the driveway as he suspected it would be. As he walks toward it Danny gets out and leans against the driver's drive, arms crossed.

'How's he doing?' Danny's expression asks as he takes the spot beside him, leaning against the car. Exhausted. Hurting. Mourning his friend all over again, Grover thinks. But Danny knows all that. "I'll give Renee a call, get her to come get me," he says instead, with a nod back towards the road.

Danny hesitates, nods as he pushes himself upright again. "'Kay." Smoothing his shirt down, he looks back towards the house. "I'm just gonna…you know…" He stabs a thumb back over his shoulder.

"Okay." For a second or two they face each other. There are words, Grover thinks, that he really ought to say. "He just told me that he owes the Navy because they gave him a home when he didn't have one," he explains, averting his eyes as Danny blinks rapidly. "You need to talk to him. Tell him what we talked about in the hospital," he prods gently. "About why you stayed."

"It won't make any difference—"

Grover doesn't reply, just cocks one eyebrow and waits. That's something that binds these two men, a shared sorrow, that he imagines they'd identified in each other almost instantly. Over the years they've occasionally forgotten that, let it be buried under the events that followed. But he can see it in Danny's eyes now; the understanding of how it feels to have everything you've built your life on threatened or even worse, taken away.

When Renee pulls up a quarter of hour later he's standing on the driveway alone. Dragging his eyes away from the house he gets in the car. He doesn't know what expression he's wearing but she cups his chin and pulls him close, her lips coming to rest gently on his head. She's warm and alive and as she swipes his cheek, rubbing away the moisture there, he's reminded why he's never ever going to let this beautiful woman go.

TBC