Chapter 11

Hi Everyone! I am back with another update. Hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just love taking them out of the box and playing with them. I do tend to break Steve a lot but I always try to put him back together (evil smirk). Sam however, is mine and mine alone.

STRONG WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: This chapter contains scenes of Rape, Child Abuse, Sexual and Physical Abuse and every possible trigger imaginable. Please proceed with caution and consider yourselves warned.


"Top that!" Steve smirked as he taunted Mason good-naturedly. They were playing a round of basketball on the Tripler Court and their games had become a firm tradition over the past six weeks.

Steve had just made his third basket, beating out Mason's only point. Sure he occasionally let Mason win, but he had to keep the game interesting. Mason laughed; his enthusiasm seemed to infuse the air with his child-like energy.

Mason had come to look forward to Steve's visits. He would wake early every Tuesday and refused to entertain anyone else for the rest of that morning. He would be waiting for Steve on the court from 06:00 am like clockwork.

Steve had not disappointed Mason for the past six weeks. He and Mason would play one-on-one and the first person to make five baskets would win the game.

Steve had felt bad that he had not been to see Mason during his initial sessions with Sam, but he found that now he was just as excited about his weekly basketball game with Mason as he was about seeing Sam for his sessions afterwards.

Sam...

That one session with the Ketamine had changed and developed so much between them. She had opened Steve's mind to a whole new realm of possibilities which both enticed and terrified him. He found himself thinking of her at the most unexpected moments. When he brewed his coffee in the morning, he could see her sitting at his kitchen table poring intently over case files. He saw her sitting saucily on his desk whenever he entered his office. She sat in the passenger seat in his truck when he drove home sleepily after particularly long days during trying cases. He never had a chance to miss her or mourn her absence. She was always with him, like a shadow, like his own reflection. He embraced her appearance in every aspect of his life, as if she were a glorious sun that shone down upon his dark world in mercy and in hope. Seeing her centred him in some way, it made him feel at peace in some of the most chaotic situations and yet somehow, the very idea that she possessed his every waking thought unsettled him like no other feeling he had ever known before.

He did not know this woman, yet it felt like she lived in every cell of his body. He could envisage darkness in her as if it lived in his very own eyes and yet everything about her seemed to glow. She encompassed a sense of wisdom that could span eons and yet she was so relatable. She was refreshing... And she is mine...

Steve's sudden feral thought flipped him back to reality. Mason smiled at him from across the court.

Steve's head began to spin. He hadn't eaten since last night because Sam had called and asked him to fast for a blood test.

"Can we call it a day buddy? I'm about to faint here" called Steve. Mason could see how pale Steve suddenly turned.

"Are you okay?" Mason asked in concern. He was ready to call a nurse if necessary. He turned to go but Steve caught him by his elbow.

"No I'm good, just starving. Sam has me fasting for some tests."

"Oh I hear you" Mason nodded understandingly.

Steve twirled his head around at the thought... Big mistake. The sudden movements only made his head spin more crazily.

"Where is that little megalomaniac anyway?" He asked. Sam usually met them at the court. Sure she was late a couple of times but she had never been completely absent before.

Yet once again, even before Steve had the opportunity to miss her, the little witch came sauntering over to them, looking like an apparition in a black tights and a long fitted, chic white blouse that wrapped around her curves with silken lust. Her luscious hair was tied back in a pony-tail which only served to accentuate her sculpted features and her pearly teeth and dimples were in full view.

"Who won?" She called as she began jogging closer to them. Her fluid movements caused her back to arch and her breasts to strain against her shirt.

Steve's mouth ran dry.

"Hey Sam!" Mason called happily. "Steve won today but he promised to give me a re-match next week. We only played to three points today, Steve is fasting."

Sam winked at Steve happily. "So you do take orders Mr. Big Task-Force Leader" She teased.

"What are the tests for?" Steve asked in a seemingly cool and casual voice. He evened smiled for good measure.

Sam knew though that he was trying to hide his apprehension.

These past six weeks had seen their sessions decelerate to an almost glacial pace. They talked constantly, about anything and everything that was on Steve's mind at the time. In fact, try as he might, Steve could not hide his disdain. Sure he loved spending time with Sam but even he couldn't understand how people could go on about themselves for hours. They talked about his parents, his sister, his ohana and even Catherine.

Catherine had been an interesting topic. Steve did not know why, but he actually wanted to gauge Sam's reaction when he spoke about Catherine. He spoke about their friendship, how they had eased into a comfortable friends-with-benefits relationship and then how they became everything to one another. Sam listened intently, probed gently when she wanted to ask a question and thanked Steve politely whenever he answered a question in enough detail to satisfy her. But she never even twitched in displeasure. Steve did not know why but her apathetic attitude towards his relationship with Catherine seemed to goad him. It irked him that Catherine and her memory did not get a rise out of Sam.

"We have to go in for your blood test, you must be starving Steve" Said Sam, jerking Steve back to the present.

So I am "Steve" again? He thought sadly.

Mason simply nodded his head in agreement.

"Thanks for the game Steve, and congrats on the win." He turned to Sam expectantly, and stuffed his hands in his pockets shyly. "Can I come by to see you before you leave for the day Doc?" He asked nervously.

Sam smiled warmly. "I am yet to see a woman who can turn down a rock star" Mason beamed and lapped up her attention.

Steve felt surprised at the surge of jealousy that seemed to cut through his chest... Her Rock Star. But in front of Mason I am just "Steve" to her, not her Sailor.

Sam reveled in the sudden flash of hurt in Steve's eyes.

Hot and cold baby... She thought. She knew she was being wicked playing games like this but anything worth conquering would be worth the effort. Steve was a prize worthy of every endeavour that she was putting into making him hers. He was meant to be savoured, treasured and kept and she would protect him with her life.

"I am sorry Mason but Steve and I have to go for his tests now, I shall see you later Rock Star."

Sam gave him a fake dazzling smile then she turned her gaze to her Sailor.

She reached out to him, took his hand in hers. She held his gaze steadily did not free him from her spell until she pulled the syringe out of the crook of his elbow 10 minutes later. She put a band-aid with some cotton on the track mark and begged him as he left to get some food.


"What's that?" asked Danny as Steve walked into the office later that morning.

"What's what?" asked Steve around a mouthful of breakfast burrito.

"What's with the band-aid?" Danny pointed to Steve's elbow as Steve shovelled the last bit of the burrito into his mouth before washing it down with some coffee.

"Hey... hey! What's the matter with you?!" Danny shouted in exasperation as he yanked Steve by the arm into Steve's office.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. "What?" He asked as Danny shut the door behind them.

"What are you an animal? Chew your food!" Danny huffed.

"Animals chew their food." Steve grinned stupidly. He loved prodding Danny. He hadn't done it for a while and diving head first into a familiar Danny-rant seemed to bring him some comfort. That is... Until Steve envisioned Sam laughing behind Danny as Danny prepared to lay into him for his "Neanderthal-like" behaviour.

Danny saw Steve's cocky smirk fade and his eyes glaze over as he seemed to stare over Danny's shoulder. Instinctually Danny turned around but saw nothing. The spell suddenly broke and Steve shook his head and stared at Danny.

"What is it?" asked Danny, looking over his own shoulder once again.

Steve knew that Danny had picked up on his little space-out and he was suddenly worried. He could never slip anything past Danny. Danny was his best friend, his brother. Danny always, always knew. Steve felt a sudden urge to spill everything. To pour his heart out to his best friend and tell him about Sam but the words seemed to choke in his throat. How could he possibly explain what he was feeling? How could he tell his best friend that in a matter of weeks, a little witch seemed to have taken up residency in his very soul and that he was officially under her charm? Was this what professionals call 'transference'? Was he so focused on exorcising all his negative feelings before Sam that he was projecting all his positive emotions on her? Was she a goddess or a false prophet? Was what he was feeling even real?

His heart began to race. Danny can't know, not yet... Please... not yet...

"Well? You gonna tell me what that was all about Steven?" Danny gasped.

"It's just a band-aid Danno" Said Steve, trying to deflect.

"Not that you shmuck!" Danny almost face-palmed at how deliberately obtuse his partner was being. "I mean what's with the... You know what? Never mind!"

Danny wanted to push this, he was worried like hell about Steve and he wanted to make sure Steve was all right, but how could he explain what he had just seen in his partner's expression? How could he tell Steve that for a split second, he was lost to himself? Danny knew he had a tendency to overreact and jump to the worst possible conclusions but there was no mistaking what he had seen in Steve's vacant eyes. I need to keep an eye on him... Danny thought resolutely. Sure he was grateful that Dr. Harris seemed to be knocking Steve back into shape slowly but therapy one day a week was not enough to quell the demons inside Steve. Sure he seemed okay for now, the demons seemed to be docile and dormant but Danny knew that it would only take a small trigger to get them roaring back to life and he didn't know how long it would be before they dragged his partner back to hell.

Danny quickly snapped himself back to the present. "Okay what's with the band-aid?" Danny asked, taking Steve's bait. Sure he bit for now but he knew better than to turn a blind eye to these small but disturbing signs.

Steve began to wring his hands together unconsciously.

"Hey where is everyone?"asked Steve in a feeble attempt to change the topic.

Danny wanted to wring Steve's neck to choke the answers out of him but instead took a deep breath and responded, "Chin and Kono are in Chin's office. Lori is out on a coffee run and Grover and Jerry are busy transferring some of our closed cases into archives. Now what's up with your elbow?"

"It's for a blood test that Sam insisted on." Steve tried to keep his tone light and airy. Danny was definitely not buying it.

"And why would a psychiatrist need blood samples?" Danny tried hiding the tinge of condescension from his voice but Steve knew him too well.

"I don't know yet Danno, I can only assume it's so that I don't test positive to any medicine allergies."

"Are you on meds?! Why didn't you say anything you putz?!" Danny was ready to bring the roof down.

They must have been on at least five high profile and dangerous missions in the past three weeks alone. One of them even involved Steve operating a helicopter and another had him scaling down a cliff to a crime scene at the bottom of a mountain range. Their work was not only dangerous but delicate as well and required skill and precision. If Steve was not fully functional cognitively, he could be putting himself, not to mention others in danger.

"No Danno I am not on any meds!" said Steve. "I would never endanger you guys like that. Sam knows it too and is very careful. I'm... I am trying something, it's not exactly revolutionary but it's definitely out of my comfort zone."

" What inkblots? God knows you can't see shapes" tried Danny. He was resorting to humour to stop himself from going nuts.

"Hypnotherapy..." Steve whispered. He didn't know why he felt the word settle in his chest like a tombstone. It was therapy, it was that simple, but somehow the admission weighed heavily on him.

"You're kidding right?" asked Danny incredulously.

Steve did not even crack a smile; his silence was all the confirmation that Danny needed.

Danny himself could not believe it. His psycho-mental-control-freak partner was allowing himself to be susceptible to hypnotic suggestion? What the hell was wrong with him?

Danny looked at the man before him, his best friend, his brother as if he were a complete stranger. Hypnotherapy went against everything that Steve stood for. Danny's heart seemed to drop through trap-door of his stomach. He had never felt more conflicted in his life. On the one hand, the therapy seemed to be doing wonders for Steve but another part of Danny, a more visceral part was terrified, as if he could see his brother slipping away from him and he could do nothing but watch. He knew that Steve hadn't made it out of the Michael saga unscathed, but even then, he was still Steve... He was still their strong leader, the man who would fight to the death for the freedom and liberty of his country and to see that same man give up his autonomy was unsettling to say the least.

"You okay Danno?" Steve asked silently, almost pleading. Danny reeled back at that. Steve sounded so much like Charlie in that moment.

Lori chose that minute to walk into the common area and Danny saw her through the glass in Steve's office. Steve had his back to the door and was yet to notice Lori's presence. She carried the trays with their coffees in her one hand and had her phone in the other. She laid the tray down next to the smart table. She lifted her head casually but seemed to double-over in shock as she saw Steve there. Danny almost felt sorry for her. He knew that feeling. He still felt it whenever he saw Rachel. It was a current that shoots thorough your body when you see the person you love stand before you. You can look at them a thousand times but in that split second, it's like seeing them for the first time and being shocked that such a celestial being could even grace this good Earth. Then you are yanked back to reality and depending on how lucky you are, you either feel a sense of peace settle in your very bones knowing that you are loved by them, or you could feel the cold emptiness in your chest knowing that they could never be yours.

Danny didn't want that cold feeling for Lori, or for Steve. Could she be someone that his broken partner could lean on? Was Catherine even out of the picture? Would she ever be? It astounded Danny how Catherine could feel like such a stranger to the team. She had known Steve before any of them. She knew him on a deeper level, had slept in his arms and had loved him. She should know him better than any of them, yet here he was, embroiled in the battle of his life and she was nowhere to be found. Could a love like theirs be forgotten? Even if they had broken up, could she really just sever all ties with him and never even call him again to check up on him? Even if Danny managed to set Lori up with Steve, if Catherine came back and Steve chose her over Lori, Danny would blame himself for Lori's hurt. His only choice was to wait and watch, as Steve healed, Danny would automatically have a better inkling about where his friend's heart was. Little did he know, Steve's heart was immersing itself in the devotion of another. A woman who had not only exorcised Catherine's ghost already but would ensure that none of their lives would ever be the same again.


Sam's Diary

So much has happened over the past six weeks, so much has been gained and held close to my heart and even more has slipped through my fingers yet I cannot bring myself to regret a single second I spend with Steve. He is not just a breath of fresh air to me, it's like I wasn't even alive until I met him. He had walked into my office a corpse after Michael and yet he was the one to truly bring me to life.

I could feel myself drowning in his crystal orbs. I could feel my resolve to hurt him sliding through my grasp but I was no longer hanging onto my past and my pain. I felt like a real woman who had finally broken out from her boxed identity. My flesh no longer felt like plastic. My blood was suddenly scorching in my veins, and I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as if for the very first time.

We spoke about anything and everything we could think of and I caressed him with my smile whenever he opened up to me. I felt an inner sense of pride that he considered me worthy of the honour.

When he spoke about his past lover Catherine I could feel the expectation pulsing through him. I even felt the disappointment radiating from him when I didn't react negatively to him going on about his ex-girlfriend but I couldn't help it. I was not pretending or dissembling for a single second throughout that session. I really was not jealous. Of course he had a past, of course other people have been in love with him and love him still but it is truly of no concern to me. I am beyond such petty emotions such as jealousy. Jealousy can only stem from insecurity and doubt and I don't doubt for a second that Steve belongs to me. It makes no sense. It was like a few days ago when I was showing off a new dress I bought to Hailey. I modelled it for her and she kept gasping in delight about how gorgeous it was and how I had to let her borrow it for a night out. Did I feel jealous at Hailey's admiration of the dress? Of course not. The dress belonged to me, so why would I hate for other people to admire it? Unlike my dresses though, I would not lend Steve to anyone else. Sure they may drool over him as much as they liked, but if anyone dared to harm him I would make them suffer a fate worse than death.

Steve wanting me to feel jealous did however stoke some happiness within me. I affected him. It offered me more validation that what he felt for me was solidifying and becoming more real by the day. A part of me wanted to continue to fight myself and my nature, to make myself worthy of his lofty aspirations.

It was strange, I had never taken stock of other people's opinions of me before, not even my foster father when he had first slapped me and rubbed his nimble shaking hands against my vagina. He would call me a 'cock-tease' and would choke me as he pumped inside me, cursing me for tempting him and crying again and again in sync with his feeble, mewling attempts at an orgasm. He was so pathetic. It shamed me, not because he used to fuck me against my will, I had been helpless then, but that a eunuch such as him had once come inside me and I had done nothing to stop him.

The first time I had struggled. I had been so afraid. He had been so gentle and kind the first few weeks after I had come home with them. He would stroke my hair and would come home every day with a box of candied hearts for me. He was a cardiologist and he always smiled as he would pop a candy into my mouth and lick his lips lustfully watching me savour it. "Only one heart can mend another broken heart" he would always say. But evidently it took a shrivelled up dick to shatter that same broken heart completely.

I hated myself for struggling that first night. It was weak of me. I was not a scared little girl, I never had been and I hate him more for making me feel that way then I hated him for sticking his penis inside my sixteen-year old pussy without my consent. I lay on the bed for hours after he had left. He hadn't even bothered to threaten me against telling my foster mother. He had always said that he could see intelligence shining beneath 'the most beautiful marble-eyes he had ever seen' and he knew that I would understand that there was no point.

I rubbed myself against the soiled sheets that night. I writhed in my own blood and his rank cum and I committed the scent to memory. I never wanted to forget this night. This night was the source of my power. It had evolved somehow and had morphed itself into a strength that gave me my power over every aspect of my life. It gave me a sick comfort. It gave me the force to maintain my dollhouse and control my dolls.

I never struggled after that. I had found my strength. The second time he came to me he had been surprised. He tried as hard as he could to come, or at least as hard as a limp weasel like him could try and I had taken him in, all of him. My pussy was like a python, swallowing up his little pencil-dick like prey. He had expected a fight but I smiled seductively and licked my lips. I was the one in control now, not him. I would never struggle again. I would never give him the satisfaction of overpowering me. If he wanted to feel strong he could stick his dick into a toilet roll. I was not some passive observer in my own life. He had caught me off-guard in a weak moment before but this was a woman he was fucking with, and a fucking lethal one at that. He thrust again, as hard as he could. He drew blood, I could feel it but I didn't even part my lips in pain. I kept staring at him and I could feel his heart begin to race.

"Performance anxiety babe?" I asked bitingly. His face scrunched up in anger and he kept thrusting but the pain had dulled. I could feel him deflating inside me like a balloon running out of air. He was going limp inside me. Rape is not about lust, it's about power. He could find ass anywhere, but he could only find power in his own house, or so he thought. I laughed and mocked him. "You fucking eunuch..." I whispered, my voice dripping with venom. He slapped me hard and I tasted blood in the corner of my lips. He pulled out of me and walked out with his pants in one hand and his flaccid penis in the other. I laughed at his retreating back and didn't stop until he slammed the door shut behind him, leaving me in the darkness.

I have to give the old bastard props though, he was persistent. He came to me every night after that, not even caring if my foster mother was present. She would cry and beg him to leave me alone but I would be the one to stop her. She was a good woman, she was the first person who truly loved me and I would be damned if I saw her beg anyone for compassion, especially if it was for me. She was a simple, rustic woman. She was bound to this devil through a marriage certificate much like I was tied in thorough the adoption papers. She was afraid that if she left him, she would not be able to support us alone and that I might be placed back in the system. I loved my mother and I pitied her ignorance about leaving him but I was still sixteen and at the mercy of the system at the time until my eighteenth birthday. He hit her. He brutalised her continuously to ensure my compliance. He had come to realise physical pain was meaningless to me to he would lash out at the one person I had come to care about.

My mother would cry pitifully as he fucked me. He at least had the decency to close the door but he grunted loudly like a pig and exaggerated his moans to make her feel bad. But even his pathetic wails could not drown out my laughter completely. He had paid good money to adopt me and to smooth out the procedure and to ensure that questions weren't raised so I decided to yield to my dear new dad. I even bucked my hips seductively and opened myself as wide as I could like a good girl for Daddy. My very clit seemed to gleam with superiority when it was slick with his pre-cum. I would do nothing to hide my amusement and he would try to shut me up by strangling me. My voice is not very loud to begin with but to see me smiling up at him condescendingly was always his undoing. I also did it to reassure my foster mother. I knew that she was a weak woman, tied to a weaker man but I promised myself that I would work hard and build myself up to the calibre where I could at least look after her in her old age. As for him, I vowed I would be there the day the light left his eyes... And I was...

Medical school had not only blazed a path through my directionless life, but had provided me with the independence that I had craved like a drug. I was nineteen. I had left my foster parents' home two days before my eighteenth birthday and I had only ever kept in touch with my mother. I had never looked back otherwise. Talia Harris cut a sorry figure sure, but if the Universe saw her fit to be a mother to me, then who was I to argue? I had never seen anyone else line up for the job.

My tuition at the time was substantial. My grades ensured enormous funding and prestigious schools. She would always come to visit me at my sorority, with the weasel's blessings of course (she would never have the courage otherwise) and despite the fact that I knew that he would take it away, I always thrust some money into her hands, something to help her gain some semblance of independence or at least responsibility. He would close all doors to her freedom, I knew this, but he allowed her to visit me so that I would not cut our pseudo-familial ties so quickly. He may be a quick-draw but he was not stupid.

Then the day came when I finally caught a break... The day I finally watched that old reptile being dragged straight to Hades.

I did not kill him. I really didn't. I had more reason than anyone else to want him dead but contrary to popular belief, not all psychopaths are killers. Well I am not actually a psychopath, or even a fully-fledged sociopath but I am a psychiatrist at the end of the day. I know I am not like everyone else. Crazy people in general don't know that they're crazy but I embrace the darkness within, it's the devil within that had helped me survive, first in the orphanage and then in the reptile cage with my foster family. I am selfish yes, I am manipulative, I am even a killer and I'll be the first to admit that, but I had not killed Dr. Jacob Harris. But my ultimate dream at that time had definitely come true, as if some dark deity was watching over me... I had always wanted to see him die and I did, in my sorority common room with his belt and his pants hugging his ankles like the pathetic waste of flesh that he had been.

It was spring break.

My housemates had left for a party and I had just gotten off the phone with my mother. We had spoken for a while because my father had apparently left for a conference. I was feeling good. I was alone and I was happy. I had passed my exams and sure, I was not in a party mood but I had bought a new surgical journal that I was dying to sink my teeth into. I opened the door to let our mascot cat Chips inside and he bolted in. He was not alone though...

I actually smelt him before I saw him. He stank of liquor and some sort of talcum powder. He stumbled through my front door and I did not even bother to resist. I could not help but smile. He looked old... much older than I remembered him, in fact, much older than I could have imagined.

He almost fell in front of me and not one muscle twitched in my body to help him. He righted himself clumsily but I could see that he was hard... unnaturally hard, in fact, I had no idea his shrinky-dink could turn up the way it did...

Viagra...

So his performance anxiety had not let up after all these years. I had castrated him without a knife, emasculated him with nothing but my smile and my venomous words.

He could be overdosing. Chasing Viagra with alcohol was probably not a good idea; I didn't have to be a doctor to know that, much less a medical student but I honestly did not give a shit.

His eyes began to twitch.

"C'me here you litllle bitch!" He grunted. Those were actually his last words the poor bastard. He lunged for me but I did not move away. I rushed into his arms instead and pulled down his pants. I worked him with my hands, massaging him through the stretching material of his boxers until he was so hard I could actually see the blood rush from his face straight to his cock. I didn't dare remove his boxers lest my DNA was found on his cock should he actually die.

He began to shake uncontrollably and despite the fact that my air-conditioning was turned up, he began to sweat unnaturally. He yanked down his boxers. He stumbled again and reached for me but the second his hand flew over his chest I knew what was happening. The cardiologist was having a heart-attack. I had destroyed him so badly that all reason had left him. He was so desperate to make me come that he was willing to overdose on Viagra to keep up with a nineteen year old girl. I laughed again. I practically doubled over. I could not get a sound to leave my throat as my body convulsed in a fit of giggles. This could not be more poetically perfect if I had planned it myself. He began to pant like the beast that he was and I knew that soon the breath would leave his lungs and that his heart would flutter no longer. The only part of his body that seemed steady was his usually limp cock.

He tried to beg me for help but all that left his lips was a graceless grunt. The Universe itself seemed to be punishing him, it had left him in such a pathetic state that he was not even fit enough to beg for his life. That is exactly what should happen to anyone who tries to rape someone else, who takes away their freedom and sense of self-worth. These people deserve the worst possible death and yet somehow, I knew I wasn't finished with him. As he knelt and began to roll on the floor I began to toss things around in the common room. I began to scream as loud as my usually soft vocal cords would allow, I worked up some tears and broke any item that I could see to make it look like a struggle was taking place. I tore at my clothes, mussed my hair and bit my own lip until I drew blood. The taste of blood, even my own seemed to stir the demon in me and she yearned for her vengeance...

Whether it was a happy coincidence or fate, I do not know to this day and I do not question it. People believe that people like me are only good for killing others but that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes I have killed but it doesn't mean that I am going to murder everyone that crosses me. My body-count would be sky high if that were true. There are other ways to gain vengeance on those who wrong you. Criminals and mobsters have the wrong idea in my opinion. They use death as a scare tactic because people fear death. Death brings uncertainty and the possibility of eternal damnation.

I on the other hand, embrace death like an old lover. He is my paramour but never my weapon. He descends his mercy upon me when he sees fit... Like the day Dom breathed his last. Death to me is not the ultimate punishment like others feel, to me the real punishment is life. Life could be cruel and brutal and a person could yearn for death but death may shun them nonetheless. People suffer in life and are freed in death.

A measly sixteen minutes and forty six seconds after my old man had his pants dropped to his feet; the police were standing outside my sorority house trying to hide their disdain and amusement by wearing a fallacy of reverence for the dead. They did not want to seem disrespectful as the coroner later wheeled out my foster father, found naked from the waist down with his head lolled back and his hand on his heart.

I was wrapped in a blanket and coddled until long after my graduation. The pity in their eyes haunts me to this day.

But at least I was free...

I phoned my mother after my stint at the hospital. When I was released from the hospital the first thing I did was send money home to her. I would continue to do so until her death last year. She had been so beautiful. She was a fragile, delicate and waxen doll. She was the closest I had come to caring about another person before Steve. Sure I loved children in general, but my affections had never been directed at another human being in particular. It was because of my mother that I had learned to stop caring about others. When my father had realised that I would not be forced, he would make me miserable by beating my mother. I co-operated still, but less happily and any opportunity to inflict even the smallest iota of pain on me got him off. I have vowed to never yield to a broken doll again and weaken myself until...

Steven John McGarrett...

Out of the evils and the wrongs of my past something truly beautiful and pure had flourished, my relationship with Steve, a real man... A man who will finally quell the storm inside me, he will douse the fire in me with his passion and his love. In his arms I will finally find my shelter and feel like a real woman.


The next day would herald rain and blood for Five-0.

Donald Lewis, one of the biggest human traffickers had become caught in Five-0's cross hairs when he had arrived on the island a few weeks back, and now Five-0 had finally gotten some solid Intel as to where his next big deal would go down.

That morning, the team had gathered around the smart-table and had planned their operation. The bad weather however, threatened to upend their efforts but they could not give up now.

"The docks where the meeting is about to go down is strategically located." Chin called up the aerial view of the dock on the screen. "There is only one entrance that is closely monitored but at least three exit points on the opposite ends of the dock in case they need to make a quick getaway. Visibility is poor to begin with because of the containers but this rain minimises our chances even more."

"The only way we will be able to take them down is with snipers" Said Danny matter-of-factly. Instinctively they all turned to Steve who was yet to say a word. Steve turned simply to their field leader, Grover. Even Grover had to roll his eyes. They could not go on like this much longer. Having Steve on the back-burner was like having a tightly bound ball of yarn with one vital thread hanging loose, threatening to crumble the entire unit. Yes they were all excellent at what they did, yes they were all experienced enough to lead and run their own aspect of the team but none of them were Steve. They weren't able to dive head first into danger with nothing but heart and a crazy scheme. He always messed with them with such child-like innocence that sometimes it was easy to forget that he had lived through deployment and combat. Steve was their team and their team was him.

Steve looked to Grover again, "Your call Lou..." He waited for Grover to respond.

In all his years with S.W.A.T, if someone had ever told Lou Grover that he would be passing up an opportunity as a team leader, Grover would have had them committed but now, looking into Steve's determined eyes, something stirred in the former S.W.A.T captain. He may not have known Steve as long as the rest of the team but he was a brother to him nonetheless. Steve was ready, he was finally ready. Lou knew it even if Steve didn't, every member of Five-0 knew it and that's why, despite the fact that Steve was eyeing Grover, not a single member of the team had shifted their focus from Steve. It was time for their Kahuna to take the helm and Grover knew he spoke for every team member present when he simply stated, "Your team Commander, what do we do?"

Steve looked at him incredulously. "Lou I don't..." he started but the others seemed to overrule.

"You're ready Steve, please..." Said Chin, his voice turned up slightly in hope.

"We miss you Boss, not that you weren't here but we miss you..."chimed Kono. She knew she didn't need to say anything else. They all knew what Steve getting better and coming back to them meant.

Danny grabbed Steve by the elbow and forced him to turn from Grover to Danny himself. "It's time, and I think deep down you know it."

Steve's brows furrowed in confusion. It had only been a few weeks. He was not ready to take over. He hadn't even addressed all his issues in therapy. Does it mean I don't need therapy anymore? Does it mean that I don't need Sam? Even in this pivotal moment, she haunted him. I will always need her... he realised, his lungs feeling heavy as his heart filled up.

He looked around the room at the people he loved most in this world and somehow, Sam's ghost was right there with them. She was one of them in his mind. She should be here; Sam would know what to do... Steve thought miserably. Doubt never lingered when she was around, there was never any confusion.

Danny could see his brother at war with himself. He knew what it would mean for Steve if he became leader again. It was who Steve was and Danny and the rest of the team were tired of seeing Steve run from himself and his destiny. It was time for them to give him a gentle nudge and bring him back home. Too long had he lain in shadow, it was time for him to come back to the light and to rid their island of all the scum that tainted its beauty. They needed to convince Steve that this was what was right for everyone.

Their eyes all pleaded silently with him. Each member was looking for the right words that would bring him back to them, and then suddenly it hit Danny. He didn't know why he was doing this or whether it would work, but he had to try...

"Think about Sam Steve. Sam has been working so hard for this, working to ensure that you are all right. You taking the wheel again would not only mean you are all right but it would be a victory for Sam as well. Wouldn't you want that?" Danny asked hopefully.

Lori could feel her eyes mist up and could not stop herself from placing her palm over Steve's. She could feel his veins throbbing beneath his skin and his very body seemed to radiate a quiet strength that no amount of trauma could defeat.

Steve's eyes shone as he looked around at his ohana. He would go to the ends of the earth and back for them. He closed his eyes and he pictured Sam with them, her eyes shining with pride and her smile so dazzling it could blind the sun. Danny is right... he thought... For Sam...

He opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. He simply nodded in assent and thanked his team with his eyes. There were no words to express his gratitude to them, words would trivialise how he felt about them in this moment and the rest of Five-0 felt exactly the same. Chin put his hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezed it lightly in support and they all smiled when Steve reached out with his lightning-quick reflexes and grabbed the Camaro keys from the table next to Danny using the hand that Lori was not holding.

"I'm driving..." He stated simply and they all broke into peals of laughter and sighed with relief and pride as they all walked to the weapons cabinet to stock up before they went out the door.


Well? The Big Kahuna has taken his throne once more and Five-0 is officially back in business!

I hope you liked it! At least now we are getting a better idea about who Sam is as well.

Please note that I DO NOT IN ANY WAY, endorse Sam's thoughts about Rape and abuse and about giving in to your captor. She is a character, who we have all established, is not normal and I do not wish to project her twisted thoughts and views on anyone.


I am sorry I had not thanked a lot of people who had favourited and followed this story and I want to take this opportunity to thank them and all my old readers here today:)

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