Pehea wau i ʻike ai i kou makuahine

Based on the characters and stories of Hawaii Five-0.

Hawaii Five-0 is owned by CBS and their respective creators.


"So, who was he?" Melissa opted for the chair beside Catherine rather than sitting behind her desk. "I've been wondering why you don't show your face around here more often." Her head tilted towards the door, "Is that why?"

Catherine picked at the hem of her shirt. "It's kind of hard having a constant reminder that he's gone."

"Makes sense." Mel shrugged casually. "What was his name?"

"Billy Harrington. He, um. He was a SEAL."

Good, Melissa thought. She was offering up more information than what was asked of her. "Is that how you guys met? Through Steve and the SEALs, I'm assuming?"

Catherine nodded, "Steve introduced us, but we ended up doing a tour together in Kabul. Ran into each other off and on after that. You know how the Navy is. Small world."

"Sounds like you guys were more than friends."

She laughed, "We were…. Well, I don't know what we were. I guess he was always my rebound."

Mel laughed, "Good Lord, Rollins. How many times did you rebound?"

Catherine wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips, "More times than I'd like to admit. To be fair, he and I actually did date for a minute before Steve and I finally got together."

"And when Steve went running for the hills, Billy was the one to swoop in and save the day?"

She groaned, "God, I sound pathetic."

Melissa waved her hand dismissively, "Everyone does stupid shit in their twenties."

Catherine raised her eyebrows and tilted her head doubtfully, "And their thirties?"

"You did not have a decade long love triangle." Melissa said in disbelief as she bit back a laugh.

"I did and it was a fucking nightmare." Catherine groaned. "And he and Steve always had this pissing match going on, trying to one-up each other. It was a shit storm."

"So what happened?" Mel asked innocently. Damn, she was good at her job. Catherine was notoriously stubborn with getting help and here she was, singing like a canary.

Catherine took a deep breath, "That's a loaded question."

"Fire away."

She glanced at the clock on the wall, "I should probably get the kids out of Steve's office before he has a meeting."

Mel reached over and snatched her desk phone, mashed a few buttons, and waited. "McGarrett? It's Rodriguez." Pause. "You good to keep the rugrats in your office?" Another pause. "Good." And then hung up the phone without another word. Mel gave Catherine a self-satisfied smirk, "Your husband is keeping your kids detained."

"Did you just call my kids rugrats?"

"Yes, I did. Now spill."

She frowned, "Has anyone ever told you that you're a little abrasive?"

"You have. Many times. Not gonna make me any nicer, either. Stop stalling."

"Uh, question. Does HIPAA forbid you from telling this stuff to the SEAL three doors down?"

Mel nodded, "Cone of Silence."

Catherine sighed, "We had this… epic… kind of love affair." She held her hand up, "Not that it was an affair - it wasn't. I never…. I don't cheat." She settled further into the chair, "For all of Steve's insecurity and indecisiveness, Billy was…confident. Maybe a little cocky. He had his charm…" She smiled ever so slightly at the memory. "I never knew where I stood with Steve back then. I mean, you remember how it was when we were bunkmates. With Billy, he was so upfront about everything. I knew exactly how he felt. Exactly what he wanted. He didn't beat around the bush. He was the kind of guy that made you feel like you were the most important person in the world."

"So how'd you end up with Steve and not Billy?"

"I chose Steve." Catherine stated confidently. Her voice began to falter. "And then Billy… he… he died."

Mel tapped a staccato rhythm on the arm of the chair, "You were there when he died."

Her nose wrinkled, "How'd you-"

She tapped her temple, "Mind reader. Remember?"

Catherine rolled her eyes, "Yeah. I was there. I left the Navy and took a job with his start-up, running private security jobs. We both got shot on the job. I got clipped in the arm. He took two rounds to the gut. I got him to the hospital... but it was too late."

"Damn." Melissa snapped her head back. "Were you in love with him?"

"What?!" Catherine exclaimed, "No! I-"

She waved her hand like a tornado, "Cone of Silence. Remember?"

Catherine shook her head, "I wasn't. I know that now."

"Did you think you were?"

She shrugged, "I was doubting Steve. Billy was the safe option. I guess… I guess I always liked knowing I had a fallback. It wasn't fair to Billy, though."

"Your backup plan if things didn't work out with Steve."

Catherine nodded. "It wasn't a conscious choice, it was just…."

"Self-preservation." Mel interjected. "Doubt cuts deeper than fear."

"I did that a lot with Steve." Catherine nervously picked at her cuticles, "I never really told him what I wanted or needed. I waited for him to call the shots when I should have been standing up for what I wanted. I didn't tell him I loved him until it was too late." She laughed in disbelief, "Hell, I freaked out on him one time and called his mother a liar and told him he couldn't trust her."

Mel shook her head, "You two are a nightmare. You should be studied for science." She grumbled before straightening herself out, putting on her professional face and stating, "Tell me about the thing with his mom."

Catherine ran her hand through her hair, "It was a long time ago. Steve and I- we, uh, we were having issues. Doris- Steve's mom- she… came back into his life unexpectedly and she and I were a little… combative." When Melissa gave her a doubtful look, she self-corrected. "I was tired of her playing mind games with him. Popping in and out of his life. Telling him half-truths. It made things hard on him. Hard on me. He always felt like he had to choose."

"You've told him a lot of half-truths." She countered, "Or as I like to call them: lies."

"A couple years ago, after I joined the CIA, I ended up coming back to the islands chasing a target. I got Steve to help even though we weren't together anymore. Partially because I needed it. Partially because I just wanted to see him. We, um, we had a long conversation and told each other all the times - at least the ones that we could remember- that we almost said I love you for the first time." She paused. "I guess thinking about it now… saying it probably wasn't as big of a deal as we made it…. But it was. To us at least."

"So, what does that have to do with his mom?"

She sighed, "One of the times he told me about was when his mom was under his roof. She had told him that I loved him. I didn't tell her- she just… knew. Mother's intuition, I guess." Catherine shrugged, "Steve tried to bring it up and just started to say that she had told him something and I….."

"Freaked out?"

She grimaced, "That's putting it nicely. Like I said. I called her a liar without even knowing what she had said."

"How's your relationship with your mother-in-law now?

Catherine shook her head, "She passed away a few years ago." Her fingers ghosted along a scar that curved across her knee. "We were really close." Her head hung down in shame, "Steve and I had ended things. Doris - she was in the CIA too. I half-expected her to put a hit out on me after what I had done to her son, but she…" Her demeanor began to lift, "She was like a second mom to me. Except I could tell her about the classified shit I was working on." She sighed, "I really wish Steve could have seen us together."

"Have you ever told him about you and her making amends?"

She shrugged, "A little."

"Back to Billy." Mel commanded.

Catherine cocked her head, "Why are we talking about all this again?"

Mel tapped her fingers together, "Oh, we'll get there eventually. But tell me. If you didn't love him and you didn't cheat on Steve, why do you look like a walking storm cloud? Do you blame yourself for his death?"

She shook her head, "I used to. For a long time, actually."

"There's something you're not telling me about him."

Catherine chewed on her lip. She swallowed the painful lump in her throat and finally admitted the thing she had been holding onto for years, "There was a letter."


Steve stood behind Catherine and slowly lowered the zipper on her black dress. He held the sleeve as she gingerly pulled her injured arm through. "What do you want me to grab?"

"The hoodie." She mumbled. Catherine stood still as he pulled it out of her drawer and helped her get it on. She grabbed a pair of shorts and shimmied into them while he hung up his dress whites.

"Hey." His strong, capable hands found her waist. "Where's your head at?"

The funeral. The cabin. The van. The hospital. They were all viable answers, but none of them explained the crushing weight she felt. She shook her head and leaned back into him, "It's just been a long couple of days."

"Yeah."

"Yeah..."

Steve's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and groaned, "I gotta run to HQ."

"You get called out on a case?"

He shook his head, "The D.A. needs me to consult on a case they're pursuing. I gotta go give a statement." He kissed her temple, "Shouldn't be more than an hour. You, uh, you wanna come with? Get out of the house?"

Catherine shook her head, "No, I, um… I think I just need to sleep it off."

Steve tilted her chin up and kissed her, "Let me change your bandage before I go." She conceded and sat on the edge of the bed. Carefully, he peeled back the tape that held the gauze in place. She hissed as the cotton stuck to her stitches. "Sorry." He mumbled as he pulled it back as gently as he could. He frowned, "Probably overdid it hunting down Cutler's killer." He grazed his thumb over the deep bruising that had bloomed around the GSW. "How's it feel?"

"Hurts."

He chuckled as he pressed a new piece of gauze against the stitches and wrapped it in tape, "Must hurt like hell if you're actually admitting it hurts." He chuckled. She stared into the floor like it had wronged her. "Catherine." His gruff voice caught her attention, "I'm gonna tell you again. It's not your fault." He cleaned up the soiled bandages and tossed them into the trash. "The funeral… the wake… I know it was a lot today. I've been there. Okay? I know how it feels."

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, "When does it stop hurting?"

Steve sat down beside her and clasped his hands together, "I'll let you know when I find out."

Catherine picked at the cracked screen printing on the hoodie, "You should get going. Don't wanna keep the D.A. waiting."

"You sure you're gonna be okay here?"

"I'll be fine. I'm just tired."


A knock on the door startled her out of her nap. Okay, so she had just been laying on the bed for an hour. Catherine's joints ached. Her arm sang every time she moved. None of that compared to the stabbing pain in her heart. Sleep was mocking her. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him.

Catherine threw back the covers and padded downstairs. It was probably just Danny popping in or Steve ordered pizza on his way back from H.Q. and it was a delivery driver. She grabbed her purse and fished around for a few bills just in case it was the latter. "Coming!" She called out.

Her hand wrapped around the doorknob. No pizza. Damn it. "Mr. Harrington." Catherine's voice croaked. She swiped her fingers across her cheeks, "Um, I'm sorry, I uh- I wasn't expecting anybody."

He nodded solemnly, "I apologize for showing up like this. We…." He sighed, "We were cleaning out Billy's apartment before we went back home and I….. I came across something with your name on it." He shuffled around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a wrinkled envelope. Catherine took it and studied the block writing scrawled on the front. ROLLINS. There it was again. The sand in her throat. The knife in her stomach. The lead in her limbs. "I didn't read it. If that's what you're thinking." He added.

She shook her head in silence as she fingered the paper. "Um. Thank you. For bringing it over."

Mr. Harrington nodded. "I'll leave you be." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked from his heels to his toes just like Billy used to. "Still got a lot of stuff to get in order, you know?"

Catherine knew she should offer to help. After all, eighty percent of Billy's apartment was filled with business paperwork and equipment. Helping would be the polite thing to do, but the weight crushing down on her wouldn't let her pass through the doorframe. She couldn't even be bothered to fake a smile. It didn't matter, Billy's father shared the same withdrawn demeanor. Instead, she opted for, "Thank you again. I appreciate it."

Closing the door, Catherine sat down on the couch and stared at the envelope. Whatever was inside wouldn't change the fact that Billy was gone. It wouldn't change how he died. She had been there. She knew what happened. It wouldn't change the guilt. It wouldn't take away the shame. It wouldn't ease the grief. She was drowning.

Curiosity got the best of her. Slowly, she eased her thumb into the lip of the envelope and tore it open.


Dear Catherine,

I'm supposed to be finalizing a business proposal for this start-up I'm working on, but all I can think about is the fact that when I put in my paperwork to retire, I heard through the grapevine that you were stationed at Pearl.

Once upon a time, I would have called that luck or a coincidence, but now I'm thinking something else- serendipity.

Serendipity explains you and me pretty damn well. Don't you think? So since I'm trying (and failing) to focus on writing this proposal, I'll try my elevator pitch out on you. Here goes.

I, Billy Harrington, am starting a private security firm. We will specialize in corporate protection and security. We will provide armed or unarmed protection details to high-profile clients, overseeing their safety whether their needs are domestic or international. I, along Lieutenant Catherine Rollins of the United States Navy, bring decades of diverse military training and combat experience to the job.

So how was that, Rollins? You've always been a harsh critic, so let me have it! You don't know it yet, but I'm going to convince you to be my partner in this. I'd like to think that I'm pretty persuasive.

I know you weren't ready for anything in Amsterdam. I probably wasn't either, but I'd be a liar if I said I didn't want something more than a weekend with you. Considering you're probably never going to read this, I'm just going to put this out there: I felt like you and I never got a fair chance. Deployments, you being with he who must not be named, and then you getting over he who must not be named. (Yes, I finally finished reading Harry Potter. You win. It was good.)

Here's the thing. I think all these years in the Navy made me realize that when I hang it up, whatever it is I do next, I want it to be something that makes the world a better place. Call it an atonement, if you will, but I want to make up for all the evil in the world.

You remember all the old V.A. offices outside of HIK? I think I'd start by giving whatever profits I could from the firm and donate it to spruce the place up. Make it a place where vets actually want to go. Take away one more roadblock in them (and me. Damn. I'm almost a vet.) getting help if they need it.

So here's the thing, Rollins. I'm going to propose to you. Fine, it's a business proposal. I want you to come on board with this insane business idea. Because truth is, I want to work with someone who wants to do good in the world. When I watched you run into that compound in Kabul to get the family out before the missiles hit, I knew you were the kind of person who would be really good at doing good things. You're not like most girls - you're extraordinary. Extraordinary women make the choice that's right, and rarely is that the choice that's safe.

I hope you say yes. I also hope you never read this because if you do, you'll know that I cried when Dumbledore died. True story, Rollins.

-QB


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Leave your thoughts in the reviews!

Heads up: there will not be a new chapter on Friday. I'm taking a day off from writing on Thursday. Friendly reminder that I do have a day job and this is a hobby that I make absolutely no money from!

I'll be really honest with you guys. (Because if you're 67 chapters in, I feel like we're friends.) So let's have a chat. I really love writing. I do. It's incredibly cathartic. Here's the thing. I really try to write to please my audience. (You lovely humans!) There are two downsides to that:

1. I can't please everybody. (Which frankly, is a hard pill for me to swallow.)

2. I know where the character arcs and storylines are going. You know the endgame, I know how we get there.

(And it's not always going to be apparent when you're reading chapter by chapter!)

I'm a chronic people-pleaser and really do take your (mostly constructive) criticism to heart which leads me to my next point: If I leave out your favorite character (sorry there's not more Danny/Kono/Chin) or if I make your favorite character do something you don't like (sometimes they misbehave, those pesky fictional people), it doesn't mean I dislike/disrespect/mistreat/whatever that character. In the words of Doris, sometimes people do bad things for good reasons. We're going to see a lot more of that coming up. Prepare yourselves. Life is messy. In the ten commandments of writing I have pinned to my laptop, number one is "Thou Shalt Confront The Human Condition". Let's be honest, the human condition is pretty damn messy.

If you have questions as to why I took a storyline in a certain way, made a character do a certain thing, didn't keep the emotional tone of the show, etc. Feel free to message me! I love talking about story lines and plot points! I have an absurdly long outline that I've been working on for a long time, so trust me when I say that nothing is haphazard. It'll all come full circle.

All of that to say, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it because I like sharing my hobby with this insanely cool fandom.

XO,

-Mags-