Grover was panting with exertion by the time they reached the first floor, and Jax had a fleeting moment of panic that she would have to send her partner on the ambulance as well.
"'M'fine," he insisted, as Jax gestured for the EMTs to bring a gurney over. Grover heaved a sigh of relief as they eased the guard onto the gurney.
"LOC of undetermined length," Jax said, giving a rapid report. "I didn't take time for vitals, we needed to remove the victim. No indication of a spinal injury or blunt force trauma. Pupils are reactive but the patient is unresponsive."
"We'll call ahead for neuro," the EMT assured her, as they whisked the guard away.
Captain Akamu waved a hand to Jax and Grover, and they jogged over quickly.
"What have you got, Captain?" Grover asked, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his face. He scowled as Jax quietly put a finger to his pulse, and he could sense her counting his respirations as well, but he didn't stop her.
"Security cameras came back online," the captain said, "but - this doesn't make sense . . ."
The technician shook his head. "I've got three guys looking at every angle, captain. The Five-O team is alone on the seventh floor. No other movement. No movement anywhere, in fact, except for their team, and our guys in the stairwell."
"You're absolutely sure," Grover demanded.
"One hundred percent, sir," the tech assured him.
"Something's wrong. The only reason our perps would leave the building . . ." Grover mused to the captain, "either they got what they came for or -"
"They know something we don't," the captain finished, grabbing his radio. "SWAT, if you're not covering the seventh floor access, exit the building. Now. Seventh floor, stand by to provide cover for the Five-O team."
Grover pressed a finger to his ear, and spoke urgently into his mouthpiece. "McGarrett, you're alone in the building. Security and surveillance cameras are back online. Five-O and SWAT are the only people there."
There was a beat of silence.
"Shit," Steve said. "They're positive?"
"No movement. They're sure," Grover confirmed. "Captain Akamu has already pulled SWAT back, so watch yourselves on the way out. You've still got your guys at the seventh floor exit."
Jax and Grover could hear Steve yelling to Chin and Kono, no longer concerned with being overheard.
"Get the security guard's body," he called out. They heard him cue his radio and address the SWAT officers. "We've got two Five-O members coming to the stairwell with the body of a security guard. As soon as they're to your position, assist them in securing the body and exit the building."
Before Steve's radio clicked off, Jax could overhear the voices of Chin and Kono as they worked together to move the guard's body to the stairs. The next voice they heard was one of the SWAT officers.
"We have Kelly and Kalakaua and the fallen guard, we're coming out," the voice said, and then there was the sound of measured footsteps echoing in the stairwell, and then nothing.
"McGarrett and Williams will be right behind them," Grover assured Jax, a big hand on her shoulder.
#*#*#*#*#
"Danny, go, go, get out," Steve urged. He holstered his weapon and pulled on a pair of crime scene gloves.
"Ah, yes, that seems prudent," Danny said, "and yet, here you are, putting on gloves. Why? Why are you putting on gloves?"
"Whoever did this finished what they came for, Danny," Steve said, moving quickly to the one server that had evidence of tampering. "We have to know what they were trying to do." He began frantically trying to disengage a component that looked obviously out of place, connected to the main server with a tangle of cables.
"Yes, but one, you are not a computer expert, and b, if they finished and left the building, what's to keep them from -"
"That's why I'm telling you to go, Danny," Steve gritted out.
"Go. Out of the building. To where your wife is waiting. Without you," Danny said. "Steve. Come on, this feels all kinds of set-up and I think you know it."
"So go, Danny, I'm right behind you, I swear," Steve said.
"Not leaving until you do," Danny said, quietly stubborn.
Steve continued to frantically pull at the wires and a component slipped free. He shoved it into one of his cargo pockets and started working on another section.
"Steve," Danny said, and his tone - and he did have a tone, Steve always insisted that he did, whether he admitted it or not - stopped Steve dead in his tracks. "Come on, man. You want her to live through this twice?"
"Danny," Steve said, his voice stricken. "Shit. Go. Go."
Danny could tell, this time, that Steve was on his heels. They made it to the stairwell before the explosion knocked them off their feet.
#*#*#*#*#
Chin and Kono, along with the two SWAT officers, carefully deposited the body of the murdered guard into Max's custody. The gurney was discreetly whisked away in the back of the coroner's van.
"Where's Steve and Danny?" Kono asked, looking around. "I thought they were right behind us."
"They aren't out -"
Jax's words were cut off by a ground-shaking explosion. The windows of the seventh floor blew outward in the blast, showering down on the emergency personnel clustered around the base of the building. Window framing landed on vehicles with enough force to trigger car alarms, and for a moment, the blare was all that was heard in the stunned silence.
#*#*#*#*#
Rachel looked up from her grocery list as a local news reporter broke in to the national cable news channel.
"We have a report of a bomb threat, and now a significant explosion, in downtown Honolulu. It would appear that an explosion has rocked the building of the Bank of Hawaii, one of Honolulu's most recognized landmark buildings and businesses. Stay tuned for more information."
Rachel took a deep breath and put a hand on her belly, feeling the baby kick in response to her rush of adrenaline. She wasn't surprised to hear her cell phone ring, and she steadied her voice as she answered.
"Renee? Yes, I just saw on the news as well. No, no word. Well, of course I assume they are there, don't you? That's a lovely offer. Yes, I'm very sure, especially as you're kind enough to offer to drive. Yes, I'll be ready. Thank you."
She moved on autopilot, putting her wallet, phone, water bottle, and a few other essentials in a tote bag, and then moved to the front porch to wait.
#*#*#*#*#
Additional sirens broke through the silence as the scene erupted into a frenzy of activity.
Jax watched as the scene flicked back and forth between the blue glass high rise and a grayer, even taller building. It was like the test at the eye doctor's, she thought. Lens one? Click. Or lens two? Flick. She watched as the scene flickered again. Past. Present. Click. Flick.
Grover's huge hands on her shoulders stopped her, and she realized that she had been moving on autopilot toward the building.
Flick. The blue glass had shattered, raining down on them. She absently pulled a shard out of Grover's vest and tried to keep moving past him.
"I have to get to the boys," she said, shoving at him impatiently.
Click. The building, the gray one, started to fall.
"Jax, I know you want to get to them, but the building might not be stable," Grover said.
Flick.
"Oh, no shit," Jax yelled at him, her small fists pounding against his solid chest. "I've noticed that before. Let. Me. Go."
"No," Grover said, quietly and calmly. "No. You're not going in, honey."
Kono wrapped her arms around Jax's shoulders. "He's right," she whispered, her voice choked with tears. "The bomb squad is trained for this. We need to let them clear the scene."
"But they could be in there, they could be hurt," Jax said. "I have -" she fumbled in her pockets for supplies.
Click. A passing EMT was pressing supplies and a water bottle into her hands.
"Jax," Chin moved into her line of vision, his calm, Zen-like demeanor breaking through her panic. "Once they say that the building is stable, we will all go in, together. Okay?"
Jax nodded, pulling away from them and taking a few steps closer to the building.
Flick. HPD. Palm trees.
"You sure that's a good idea?" Kono whispered.
"Kono, if I hadn't come out of the building yet, would you let Steve and Danny stop you from coming in after me?" Chin asked gently.
Kono shook her head. "Chin, what if -"
Chin took her hand in his. "Faith. Have faith."
Jax was practically vibrating with anxiety as the bomb technicians and engineers donned protective gear and quickly but carefully entered the building. Time seemed to stand still, and she could hear murmurs of the names McGarrett and Williams being passed around . . . along with the words cowboys and reckless . . . Kono came to stand next to her, grabbing her hand and holding on tight.
Then one of the engineers gave a surprised shout, as Steve and Danny emerged from the building, their hair, faces, and clothing covered in dust and debris.
Click. Dust, thick, cloying, clinging to every surface, mingling with blood.
One of Steve's arms hung limply, and obviously dislocated, motionless by his side, while the other was wrapped firmly around Danny, supporting him as he limped painfully toward the waiting team.
Flick. She could hear his voice, strained with pain, as he scolded Steve.
"What did I tell you, hunh? When you gonna listen? Got my knee all busted up again, and I'm telling you, I'm filing a worker's comp claim. The governor can just suck it," Danny groused. His blue eyes crinkled in a smile as he neared Jax and Kono. "Kono, am I right? Tell Steve that the knee is a delicate, delicate mechanism, and isn't to be subjected to this sort of abuse."
"Danny, I'm sorry," Kono said, wincing in sympathy as she threw her arms around him. She looped an arm around his waist and led him toward a set of EMTs, with Chin jogging ahead to get their attention.
"Hey," Steve said, smiling down at Jax, wiping dust from his face. "Know any medics that maybe could put my shoulder back?"
She stared up at him, frozen and motionless, her face blank. Click.
"Jax?" he asked, confused, as the smile slipped from his face. "You okay? What is it?"
Flick. She shook her head, trying to get time to stay still.
Grover had turned to flag down another set of EMTs, but turned back at the change of tone in Steve's voice. He expected to see a heart-warming embrace, or Jax fussing over Steve's shoulder. Instead, Jax was taking a hesitant step backwards and Steve was looking as confused and hurt as he'd ever seen a man, looking around, probably for Danny. Grover stepped behind Jax, blocking the retreat she wasn't even aware of making, and looked over her head at Steve.
"I think this one hits a little close, McGarrett," he said quietly.
"Jax, hey, we're okay -" Steve started, his assurances less convincing now that blood was trickling down the side of his face. It seemed to startle Jax into action.
"Stand still," she ordered, stepping forward again. Her strong fingers felt cool against his jaw as she turned his head carefully, standing on tiptoe. "There's blood in your ear," she said.
"I think it just dripped -" he started again, but his words trailed off in a hiss of pain as her fingers moved to probe his shoulder.
"This should be set by ortho," she said, stepping back again, bumping into Grover's bulk.
"I'm sure you can -"
"No," Jax said, her voice still strangely flat. "You need ortho, and a head CT, and who knows what other injuries you have under all of that . . . dust . . ."
Flick. Click.
Steve saw her eyes flicker from the building back to him, and read the situation instantly. He'd seen it dozens of times in the men he'd commanded, the split second loss of focus in their eyes as they were not there and then pulled themselves back.
He'd seen the times when they couldn't pull themselves back, too.
"Jax," he said, and her spine instinctively straightened at the command in his voice. He wrapped his good hand around the side of her neck, his thumb rubbing her jaw, tilting her head up so that her eyes met his. "Danny and I walked out of the building, okay? He's headed to the hospital to get his knee taken care of. He'll be going to Queens, here in Honolulu, to see Malia. You really think I need ortho?"
She nodded and took a steadying breath. Flick. She focused on a palm tree.
"Yes," she said. "I think we need to rule out a fracture in the collarbone."
"Well, you're the medic," Steve said.
Grover turned to flag down another set of EMTs. "Can we get a team over here?"
Click. Please, we need help, we need help over here. The calls came in thick accents: Jersey, New York.
"I'm okay, Jax," Steve murmured. "Stay with me. Breathe."
Flick. Underneath the scent of concrete dust there was his aftershave, his detergent - their detergent - and always, always, the lingering smell of the ocean. She wrapped a hand around his uninjured bicep, traced her thumb over the ink that appeared, enticing, as his sleeve rode up over the muscle.
"Grounding," she mumbled.
"What?" Steve asked, his thumb still curving over her jaw.
"Stephanie said . . . it helps. All five senses, oriented to . . . you know. Your current surroundings. The present. Sight, sound, smell, touch . . . " Jax explained. "It works."
"Four," Steve said, as Grover started to head toward them with EMTs on his heels. "You missed one."
"Taste," Jax said, her eyes flashing with mischief. "I'll lick you later."
"McGarrett," Grover said, his voice full of alarm. "Man, you okay? You look like you can't breathe."
#*#*#*#*#
"What?" Rachel asked, glancing at Danny as they drove back home.
The sun was just starting to set after a long afternoon of x-rays and ultrasound, which had determined Danny's knee badly sprained and too swollen to get a clear look at the ACL. He sat now, slumped and exhausted in the passenger seat as Rachel drove them home.
"You were amazing today," he said. "I can't believe that you and Renee were already at the ER waiting for us when we got there."
"Well," she said, arching a brow in his direction before turning back to the road, "Grover thought to call his wife and explain the situation."
"Sorry," Danny grinned sheepishly.
"You survived a blast and injured your bad knee," she said. "I'll forgive you this time."
"That was nice of Grover and Renee to pick up Gracie along with their kids," Danny said, yawning.
"It was," Rachel agreed. "So thoughtful. Gracie seems to get on quite well with the whole family. It's good . . . it's -" She tilted her head, unsure of exactly the word she was looking for.
"Normalizing," Danny said. "Nice for Gracie to have friends who understand why Daddy has to leave in the middle of a ballgame, or can't make it to the PTA carnival."
"Yes," Rachel agreed. "Yes, it is. I . . . I'm sorry I didn't . . . that before, I didn't -"
"Hey," Danny said, his eyes warm as he smiled over at her. "You do now. And I appreciate it."
Rachel gave him a wicked grin as she parked the car. "Really? You appreciate it?"
"I do," Danny said. "And despite the knee, I really do think I should demonstrate . . . "
Rachel giggled as they struggled up the porch steps.
"Danny, really, your knee and me, with -" she gestured toward her round belly.
"You, with being absolutely gorgeous," Danny said, pulling himself up the stairs. "You. Always you, Rachel."
#*#*#*#*#
Jax drove the Silverado home, taking the turns gently. Steve still winced.
"How did the truck even end up at the hospital?" he wondered tiredly.
"I - okay, honestly, I have no idea," Jax replied. "Chin handed me the keys. I don't remember -"
"Hey, it's okay," Steve said, glancing at her. She was chewing on her lower lip. "Jax. Breathe. It's okay if you lost a few minutes today. Yeah?"
She nodded. "How's the pain? Do we need to stop for anything?"
"No," Steve groaned. "I want to go home, and take one of your ridiculously long showers. I'm fine, really, just - I may have sort of, um, tackled Danny. Down a flight of stairs."
"Your vest had a shit-ton of debris embedded in it," she said. "And Danny's had none. I sort of assumed. He'll kick your ass if he figures that out, you know that."
"I know," Steve shrugged. "I can't help it. It's instinctive."
She put the truck into park and reached over, resting her hand on his knee. He felt the warmth through the thick canvas of his cargo pants. She moved her hand and he noticed that his knee hurt.
Stifling a groan, he eased his long frame out of the truck as she hopped down and came around to him. She wrapped an arm around his waist and he slung his good arm around her shoulders. They made their way slowly up the walk.
"Malia said we've reduced our frequency of injury by a significant margin," Jax said, yawning around a smile.
"Excellent," Steve said. "Today barely even counts. I could have tripped over Pupule and done this much damage."
They shuffled through the front door and reset the alarm.
"Food?" Jax offered half-heartedly.
"No, the smoothie on the way home was plenty," Steve said, making his way to the stairs. "You hungry?"
"No, same. Smoothie was a good idea," she agreed.
They deposited their guns and badges, and even exhausted and in pain, Steve traced his finger over their things sitting together and smiled. Pupule stood at the top of the stairs, watching their slow progress.
"Mrrooowwrr?" he inquired.
"Long day, buddy," Steve said absently. "Tell you about it in the morning."
Pupule yawned and went back to his cushion, settling down with a huff and wrapping his tail to cover his eyes. His ears twitched at the sound of thumps and thuds and the occasional muffled curse as Steve gladly let Jax manhandle his heavy boots and cargoes off. Between them they managed to remove the sling and the shirt with minimal pain. The hot shower felt as good as Steve had imagined it would, as he closed his eyes and let Jax push him around under the spray. He obediently ducked his head and let her massage shampoo through his hair, her short blunt nails scritching against his scalp.
"Geez, Steve," she'd mumbled, taking in the bruises littering his body.
"Worth it," he mumbled back. "I managed to save some evidence. Charlie's going to . . . " he waved his hand. "Do whatever it is Charlie does. Tell us something. Give us some answers."
The water started to cool, and they reluctantly stepped out and grabbed towels, and then the first available, softest t-shirts and gym shorts that came to hand.
Steve groaned in relief as he eased his aching body between the cool sheets. Jax tucked a pillow under his injured arm.
"Good?" she asked. "I can . . . another pillow? Another round of meds?"
"No," he said, smiling at her through slowly blinking eyes. "You. Just you."
She turned off the light and slid in next to him. In a moment, her eyes adjusted and the moonlight flooding through the window illuminated the intricate ink on his bicep. She let her fingers drift over it. "Today scared me," she said quietly.
"I know," Steve said. "I'm sorry. Should I have pulled you off the case? Tall building, explosive . . ."
"No," she said. "It was . . . we were able to do something today. I was able to do something that helped. When you and Danny didn't come out, and there was the explosion, and the windows . . . "
His hand found hers and wrapped tight around it. "I know. I'm sorry. I could tell that you -"
"Yeah. It was - like the lenses. At the eye doctor's you know? When they click them back and forth?" she said. Her fingers trapped by his, she traced over his ink with her lips instead, and he shivered.
"Yeah," he said. "For me, it's like when the projector breaks and the film gets scrambled."
"So you know what -"
"I know. Yeah, ku'uipo, I know. But you got through it," Steve said.
"I was so, so scared," she said again. "And when you finally came out, there was the dust, and - it looked so much like . . . "
"I'm so sorry," he murmured, pressing kisses against her hair.
"And you," she said, reclaiming her hand and poking him, carefully. "Not so much with the hero stuff, please? Instead of tackling Danny down a flight of stairs during an explosion, get the hell out before the explosion. Got it?"
"Got it," he said. "But I got - Yeah. Got it."
She placed her hand carefully over his heart, reassured by the steady thump she felt under her fingertips. He slid his good arm behind her shoulders, urging her closer, until her head was nestled on his good shoulder, her face pressed into the crook of his neck. He felt as if he could feel the memories trembling under the surface of her skin, the line of her back tense, her hand pressing desperately against his chest.
"I'm okay, Jax," he murmured, wrapping his arm up to cup the back of her head with his hand. "And Danny's okay. It's okay, I've got you."
She nodded, her breath hitching. Grounding, she reminded herself. She could feel his heart beneath her hand, see the steady rise and fall of his chest, hear the waves outside the window. She inhaled deeply, smelling the warm spicy scent of his soap.
"This reminds me," he said, his voice slow and sleepy, "of this one time I got sacked - I mean, epically sacked - in a homecoming came."
He felt her smile against his neck, and she took a shaky breath and relaxed a bit. "Yeah? Your parents let you bring a girl home to bed that night, too?" Impishly, she remembered her promise at the scene earlier, to finish her grounding exercise at home, and licked delicately at the tender spot behind his ear.
"What the -" he yelped, his voice strangled. "Oh. Grounding?"
"Aye aye, Commander," she murmured. "Lieutenant Allen's orders."
"Hey, I don't think that's . . . never mind," he protested. "Anyway, the guys on the other team, they must have been Samoan. They were huge. And they didn't like that our team had a haole quarterback, you know? Came at me hard, put me on my ass. Hairline fracture of my collarbone, dislocation of my shoulder. Thankfully it was near the end of the season, I was able to come back over the summer."
"This shoulder been tricky since?" Jax asked, letting her hand drift up from its place over his heart to trace, feather light, across his collarbone and shoulder.
"Mmmhmm," he said. "Swimming helps."
"Maybe you should do some PT this time," she suggested. "Let them, you know, electrocute you."
He laughed, remembering his almost violent reaction when he'd gone to retrieve her from a PT session in her early days on the island. "Okay, maybe I'll talk to Malia about it."
"Yeah?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah," he sighed. "It's possible, maybe, that I don't come back quite as fast as I did when I was fifteen."
"No," Jax gasped in mock surprise. "Is it because you're in your thirties?"
"If I didn't feel like I'd been run over by an artillery tank, I'd demonstrate proof of my fitness right now," he growled into her ear. He sighed. "But I feel like I've been run over by an artillery tank."
"I'll go get ice," Jax said, but his arm tightened around her before she could move.
"No," he whispered, his eyes closing. "No, this is perfect. I've never . . . after. After a mission, an op gone bad, I've never had . . . this."
"So your parents didn't let you bring a girl home to kiss it and make it better, when you got sacked?" Jax teased, whispering against his skin.
"Nope."
"Hmm. Let's see if it works," Jax said. She shifted onto an elbow, curling over his bruised body carefully, and kissed across his aching collarbone and swollen shoulder. "How's that?"
"Definitely better than ice," he declared, his words slurred with fatigue.
"Yeah?" she asked, kissing back across his collarbone toward his neck. His hands tangled in her hair and he tilted her face to kiss her, slow and sweet. Exhausted, he dropped his head back onto the pillow with a chuff of frustration. She kissed a path back down his neck, and without hesitation, kept going, her fingers slipping under the elastic of his gym shorts.
"Jax?" he murmured, his hand reaching and brushing across her shoulder as she moved toward the end of the bed. "Hey, what . . . oh. Shit. Jax, are you -"
"Shh," she said, her voice soft and warm, her thumbs tracing over the deep grooves of muscle displayed enticingly under her hands. "And yes, I'm sure, and yes, I'm fine, and . . . just yes, okay?"
"Yes," he panted, his hand fisting in the sheets.
On the landing, Pupule stretched and flicked his tail, as he headed downstairs in search of a quieter place to sleep.
#*#*#*#*#
Caviness' Jeep was parked in front of her house when Kono pulled up, beyond exhausted, and parked. He was sitting on her porch, waiting for her, a couple of market bags on the steps next to him.
"Hey," she said, hauling herself out of her car.
"Hey yourself. Saw the news," he said, and then gestured to the bags. "Hot wings, cold beer?"
Kono blinked back a sudden and completely unexpected rush of tears. He jumped up from the porch, his long stride carrying him across the yard in three steps. His arms wrapped around her, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.
"What is it?" he asked, stroking her hair. He pulled back, looking down at her. "I didn't hear that anyone got hurt, did someone get hurt? Should have called you . . ."
"No," she said, shaking her head and impatiently brushing away the tears. "It's just . . . you caught me by surprise. I'm not used to coming home to . . . this."
"It's okay, though? That I came? I don't have to stay. The wings and beer are for you, either way," he added, smiling.
"I'm keeping all of it," Kono declared. "The wings, the beer, the guy. It all stays."
"Good that I brought a toothbrush, then," Caviness said, holding Kono's hand as they went up the few stairs of her porch, each of them grabbing a bag with their free hand.
"The toothbrush can stay, too," Kono said. "Indefinitely."
#*#*#*#*#