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Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am really enjoying writing this, and that's why I especially love getting reviews and messages that express how much you're enjoying it. Keep the encouragement coming!

I'm so sorry that I'm late with my update, but I've had some health issues that I've been dealing with. I'm happy to report that everything has turned out fine, and I will be back to a regular updating schedule very soon. I might even do a few chapters at once next week (but no promises!).

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.

Also, a fair warning: This chapter contains a possible trigger to some people. In no way do I get graphic about it, but the insinuation is certainly there. You'll know when it starts to happen, so please just stop reading if you think that it will bother you.

Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!

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Chapter Fourteen: Burning House

Eleven Years Ago

Steve

"Maybe you should call someone," Bailey said for the tenth time. "Or you could just let me help you with it."

"I can build a dresser," I growled, but even I was beginning to doubt that. There were both pictures and written instructions, but they made zero sense. I'd never put together a piece of furniture like that before… when we'd bought furniture for our house, the delivery guys had set everything up right where we wanted it.

From her cross-legged position on the floor, Bailey smiled at me. "If you want to come back to it later, you can."

I found myself just staring at her, enamored. She had blossomed so well with her pregnancy, and she always had some color in her cheeks now, which brought out the bright blue of her eyes. The weight gain was a frequent complaint of hers, but I thought she became more and more beautiful with each passing day. There was something about seeing her grow our child that was beyond intoxicating. I had tried to tell her as much, but she refused to believe me.

"You're thirty-two weeks," I reminded her as if she didn't have a countdown calendar on her nightstand. "I want us to have plenty of time to rearrange the room if we decide to. I have executed covert ops in areas of the world that most people have never even heard of. I can hit a moving target from over a mile away. So… I can put this dresser together."

The laughter dancing in her eyes told me that she didn't believe me, but she kept her mouth shut and went back to perusing the baby name book that she had ordered. Occasionally, she would toss out a name and I would tell her either to put it on the list or forget about it.

It was crazy to me – the thought that I would be responsible for choosing a name that someone would have for the rest of their life. But that's not all of the responsibility that this child would bring. I would have to bathe him and clothe him, feed him and protect him. I would have to teach him how to be a man, model how to be a good father. The thought terrified me.

As if she'd read my mind – she probably had – Bailey spoke without looking up from the book. "You're going to be a great father."

"They taught you how to read minds in medical school?"

"Standard training."

I smiled at her jest and sighed as I picked up the instructions once more. "I hope he never asks me to teach him how to put a dresser together."

"You're muddling through it just fine," she teased me. "At this rate, you'll be done by the time he's about six months old or so."

The glare that I shot her way didn't even begin to intimidate her. Rather, she laughed and tossed out a name that I hated.

"You know, I think I'll ask Carson to come over and help with the dresser," I finally decided after I tried – unsuccessfully – to put it together for another twenty minutes. "His dad was a carpenter and he did this kind of stuff all of the time while he was growing up."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I couldn't blame her. "You're going to ask for help? Who are you, and what have you done with my stubborn, I'll-do-it-myself-even-if-it-kills-me husband?"

I rolled my eyes at her, but she was absolutely correct about me. "Ha, ha. When it comes to my baby boy, I'll swallow my pride and ask for help. He deserves a sturdy, well-built dresser."

"Well, I'm proud of you. You sure you can handle all of the ribbing that Carson is sure to give you?"

"He'll always find something to rib me about." I shrugged. "Asking him for help isn't going to make it any worse, and at least I'll get something out of it this time."

"Fair." She sighed and then I saw her eyes widen slightly. "What about… Nathaniel?"

"Nathaniel…" I pondered. "Nathaniel Steven McGarrett."

Even as I said it, I knew that it was perfect. But…

"That's quite a name for a little one."

She smiled, eyes twinkling. "I have every confidence that he'll grow into it. He's going to do great things, just like his father."

"And his mother," I reminded her. "You're the strongest person I've ever met."

"Well, obviously."

She tried to joke it off, but I could tell that my words had touched her. Some days, she still struggled with the trauma of all that had happened to her over in Nepal. The nightmares were few and far between these days, but I knew that she hated that she hadn't managed to make them disappear completely.

Baby steps, I always reminded her when she grew frustrated with herself. That's what she always told her patients when they had the same frustrations. But it was different for her. She felt like she – as a health professional – should have the use of the tools in her belt to help her deal with trauma better than the average person. She was always very tough on herself.

"Come on." I stood up and walked over to her, offering my hand. "Now that I'm done with the dresser for the evening, why don't we go and get some ice cream?"

She gave me a dubious look and used my hand to pull herself to her feet, a bit unsteady due to the shift in her center of gravity these days. "You're done with the dresser?"

"For the evening."

Laughing, she twined her fingers with mine and began to pull me out of the room. "Okay. You know I'd never turn down ice cream."

"That's my girl." I flipped the light off as we exited and asked her, "What does Nathaniel mean?"

"Gift of God."

Bailey

I sat in my car in the parking lot of the small convention center where Anne had decided to throw my baby shower. Blue balloons were floating in the air at the door, tethered to the handle. They flapped in the gentle breeze as I took another deep breath and closed my eyes against the pain.

Cramping was normal in the third trimester. My OB had warned me about it very early on, so I had been prepared. But the cramps that I had been feeling had pained me all day long. So much so, in fact, that I had called up to OB to schedule an appointment for first thing in the morning. I'd been taking Tylenol regularly, but it was barely taking the edge off.

The last thing that I wanted to be doing was going to a party where I would be expected to smile and make small talk. I wanted to go home, lay in bed, and eat ice cream while I watched whatever was on TV. I needed rest, not baby gifts. But Anne had gone to a lot of trouble to put the shower together for me, and I needed to show her that I was grateful. Surely it wouldn't take more than a couple of hours. Then, I could rest.

Resolved, I took two more Tylenol and washed it down with the last of the water in my bottle. Then, I got out of my car and headed into the building before I could change my mind and just drive home.

Steve spotted me and excused himself from the conversation with some of his SEAL buddies to come over and kiss me. "You're late." His smile was teasing.

"I am." I had no joking manner in me at the moment.

Immediately, his expression morphed from happy to concerned. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Forcing a smile for his sake, I said, "Just some normal pregnancy pains. I'd say 'you know how it is', but you don't and you never will. I'm jealous."

"Are you sure it's normal?" He was obviously very concerned, as he had been about every single ache and pain that I'd had so far.

"The OB warned me about these pains very early on. It's just the body preparing for delivery. Everything is fine. But just in case, I have an appointment tomorrow morning at eight."

"I'll be there." He had been to all but two of my appointments, which was very impressive for a Navy SEAL that had no control over when he would be called out.

"Okay."

There was no more time to discuss it because Anne rushed up with a wide smile on her face. "Hey, you made it! I was starting to get worried. Come on, come on; we'll announce that it's time for everyone to start eating."

By "we'll", she meant "I'll". At the front of the room on the small stage, she grabbed the microphone and announced that everyone could start going through the buffet line, starting with me and Steve. She followed close behind, asking me how I liked everything.

There was blue everywhere, but I couldn't really pay attention to the finer details because I was trying to keep the room from spinning. The cramps had only gotten worse, and I was praying that the Tylenol would kick in sooner rather than later. "It's perfect, Anne. Thank you so much for setting all of this up."

"Gotta keep my skills sharp," she joked with me. She was an event planner, which hadn't surprised any of the people that she'd gone to college with. She had always been the one at events and parties talking about what she would have done differently or how things could have been improved. When she'd offered to do the shower for me, I had accepted at once.

Anne joined Steve and me at our table and chatted away about babies and gifts and the food. I tried to contribute to the conversation, but the pains just kept coming and coming, as if I'd never taken the Tylenol at all.

Tom and his fiancée joined our table as well, and Tom's training immediately noticed that something was wrong. Concerned, he leaned close to whisper, "Everything okay?"

I was obviously doing a terrible job at convincing everyone that I was fine, so I tried to force a better smile. "Braxton Hicks contractions. They suck."

He gave me a sympathetic smile. "Sorry. No bleeding, though?"

I rolled my eyes. "Emergency medicine doctors aren't the only ones that know which red flags to watch for. I went to medical school too, you know."

Chuckling slightly, he raised his hands in surrender. "Fair enough. How was your day today?"

We talked about work, I chatted with his fiancée about their wedding plans, and as long as I kept myself distracted, the pains weren't quite so bad. I started to feel better and more confident as the time passed, and it seemed like the Tylenol was finally starting to do its job.

Once everyone was close to being finished eating, Anne directed Steve and myself up to the front of the room and announced that we were going to open presents. There was a veritable mountain of them, and I didn't see how we were going to get through them all.

Somehow, we did, and it was so much fun to see all of the things that people had bought for our baby boy. We received almost everything that we had registered for, and plenty of things that we hadn't even thought we'd need. I was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff, and I found myself so glad that Steve and I each had a car to haul all of the stuff home.

"Thank you all so much for the wonderful gifts," I said when we had finally finished opening them all. "We appreciate each and every one of you, and we can't wait for you all to meet him."

Steve and his SEAL buddies started loading the stuff into our vehicles while I walked around talking to people, cramping all the while. At one point, Tom informed me that I looked pale and should probably sit down. He asked his fiancée to get me some water while I gratefully sank into a chair.

"Being pregnant is exhausting," I complained. "Is it hot in here to you?"

"Not really, but I hear that pregnant women are always hot." He reached out and felt for my radial pulse, looking at his watch as he measured my pulse. "Your heartrate is a little high."

"It's been high for a while."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "In the hundreds?"

My eyes widened in surprise. "No, not usually that high. I'm probably dehydrated."

His fiancée returned with some water, and he sent her off again to see if she could find me some nuts as a quick protein-packed snack. "Probably. This should help." He handed me the water. "Do you want to go into the ER just in case? I can call ahead and let them know what's going on."

I waved the offer away and swallowed the water. "No, no. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. I should be fine until then."

Before he could argue further, Steve returned and said that the stuff was loaded up and asked me if I was ready to go home.

"Very," I answered. "I'm so ready to put my feet up and just relax for a bit. I've been on my feet way too much today."

"Oh, come on," Tom teased me. "Everybody knows that psychiatrists just sit behind a desk all day and write prescriptions for various cocktails of drugs."

"You got me."

We told him goodbye and then headed out into the parking lot, where Steve looked at me with a fair amount of concern. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I reassured him. "It's just Braxton Hicks contractions. Totally normal for the third trimester."

"If you're sure."

He didn't seem convinced.

Once at my car, I kissed him and then slid behind the wheel. "I'm sure. I'll see you at home. Maybe stop and pick up some apple juice, okay? I drank the last of it this morning and I think I'll want some to rehydrate myself while I'm resting."

He nodded and leaned down to kiss me. "Okay. I'll be home as soon as I can. I love you."

"Love you, too."

I drove away, looking forward to going home, crawling under the covers, and just having a peaceful evening.

Steve

Apple juice tucked under my arm, I made my way to the door, locking my vehicle behind me as I also dug for the key to the house. There had only been one cashier working, and apparently the grocery store had been the hot place to go on a Thursday evening. Bailey was probably wondering if I'd crashed on the way home.

Dreading having to bring all of the baby shower gifts inside, I fitted the key into the lock, twisted, and then pushed the door open.

That's when I heard the scream.

Bailey.

I roughly set the apple juice on the counter as I rushed towards the bedroom, ready to wake her from the nightmare that she'd likely been having.

When I saw that she wasn't in the bed, I froze.

Then, she screamed again, the sound radiating from the closed bathroom door.

"Bailey!" I sprinted to the door and tried to push it open, only to find that it was locked. "Bailey, let me in!"

"No!" Her voice was strained, filled with so much pain. "You can't! Just…" Her words fell away as she once again screamed in pain, sending a rush of adrenaline through me.

Without a second thought, I used my shoulder to push the door open.

The blood all over the bathroom seemed to swim before my eyes as my heart began to try to beat its way out of my chest.

And when I saw…

I knew that I had just experienced the greatest tragedy of my life.

And at that moment, I broke.