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.


Steve paced back and forth in the ten by ten room. The bare light bulb flickered an ominous beat. What the hell was he doing? He gripped and tugged at the hair on the back of his neck. The bite of pain on his skin was enough to ground him, to bring him back to reality.

He was in Sinaloa. He was tracking Doris. The CIA had a termination order planned for her if he didn't complete the assignment. Mission failure was not an option.

Seven weeks of complete isolation had him on edge. Every shadow, every passing pedestrian made him look over his shoulder twice. His heartbeat never slowed. The adrenaline never leached from his system- it couldn't. Steve was on high alert twenty-four seven. There was no rest when you were circling Carmen Lucia Perez.

Seven weeks of the same nightmare. Steve was almost afraid to get in bed. He knew as soon as he closed his eyes that the nightmare would come- there was no escaping it. He needed her.

It was a risk. Hell, even if it wasn't a risk, it was a longshot at best to take the chance on her even answering the phone, but he had to try. Had to make that call. Taking out the burner phone he carried, Steve dialed the ten digits that connected him to Catherine Rollins.

"You've reached Catherine Rollins. Please leave a message after the beep!"

Steve swore in Spanish. Clenching his fist, he sighed and decided to leave a message anyways. "Hey, it's uh it's me. I'm not gonna lie and say I was just calling to say hey, because I could… I could really use your help, Cath. Call me back if you can, okay? Stay safe, wherever you are."

He tossed the burner on the desk and sank down onto the creaky twin bed. Was she okay? Was she safe?

Was she in the field and couldn't use her personal phone? He had been trying to call her for months after Montana, and nothing. Not a damn word since she had told him that she was going dark.

Did she know about the dates he had gone on? After all, Catherine told him that she wanted him to explore his options, and truthfully he just wanted to get Danny off his back. The man meant well, but he was a more persistent matchmaker than an Italian grandmother. Steve hadn't said a word to Danny about his deal to meet up with Catherine in February. It was just a few months away. He didn't have a calendar in the cramped hotel room to mark the days off, but he knew the count by heart.

Had she found out that he went out on a date and decided to cut off all communication?

Or worse.

Was she dead?

The possibility that Catherine had been KIA on a mission scared him more than the nightmare did.


"You shouldn't be here."

Four words that she had heard way too much in the last few months. Her poker face had gotten significantly better over the years. Even she didn't know she was bluffing. But, that's just what happens when you're in the CIA. "I'm just enjoying the scenery." She responded in Czech.

Lake Kezenoyam stretched out across the horizon. The green mountains jutting out of the turquoise water made her miss Hawaii. Made her miss him.

Catherine's boots squished as she walked along the shoreline. Basayev and his lapdog, Bastyr, were up ahead feeding the birds.

How fucking nice of them.

The gruff voice barked at her again in Czech, "You should not be here, Miss."

That's what they always say.

"I'm just sightseeing. It's such a beautiful day." She retorted without an air of concern. Her camera clicked away as she panned across the sweeping vistas. Her nimble fingers slowly twisted the lens as she narrowed in on Basayev. His deep voice rumbled through her earpiece. The man was smart enough to run a criminal empire, but not smart enough to realize when someone planted a listening device on his coat.

"Everything is going according to schedule. The buyer seems happy. Our friend's employee will not be a problem. He has assured me of that."

Friend's employee?

Catherine had been surveilling Basayev for months and this was the first she was hearing about a third party.

Unless.

A hand gripped her shoulder, "I told you. You should not be here. Go now."

There was a warning under his terse words. Catherine looked down at her camera, pretending to scroll through the photos. "I think I got what I came here for." She smiled politely, "Have a nice day."


Catherine pushed her way into the safe house. The November air bit at her skin as she jiggled the lock. Damn thing was frozen again. It had been seven blissful weeks without Coen. Seven weeks of compiling data, turning that data into reports and sending those reports off to Coen.

Intelligence gathering was her happy place. She excelled at it. Looking at a complex web of data and turning it into actionable steps gave her a rush like no other. She disarmed the security system and closed the door behind her as she shrugged off her heavy coat. The pocket, weighted down with her knife and gun bumped against the wall as she hung it on the coat hook. She pulled out her trusty nine millimeter and tucked it into the waistband of her jeans. Her fingers twisted and spun the knife as she walked back into her office to dump the memory card full of surveillance photos onto her computer.

The camera fumbled in her hand. Rather than risking breaking a pricey piece of company issued equipment, she slid her knife into the lining of her boot. Catherine pushed the office door open with her hip as she popped out the memory card.

"Ah, perfect timing." Basayev grinned from where he sat in her desk chair. "I'm very interested in the photos you took today, Miss Rollins." Even through his thick accent, his English was relaxed and easy. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

Catherine made a swift reach for her gun, but a heavy hand caught her wrist. The hand yanked her gun out of her jeans, dropped the magazine onto the floor, and dumped the bullet out of the chamber. She tilted her head over her shoulder and was met with the face of the man from the lake.

"I told you, you were not to be there."

"I'll make this easy, Miss Rollins." Basayev began. "Give me the memory card and we'll let you get back to seeing the sights. Although, it's strange really. Most tourists don't come to Chechnya in the winter. And most tourists don't carry a handgun."

She gave him a sweet smile, "What can I say? I like to be prepared."

"The memory card, Miss Rollins." He stated. "Don't make me ask again. I'm not a patient man."

The steel of her knife bit into her ankle. She had options, Catherine just didn't want to show all her cards. "Is you knowing my name supposed to scare me?"

Baseyev rose to his feet. His six foot frame towered over her. "Give me what I want, and you will walk away from this. Test my graciousness any longer and you will pay.

Could she really take on both of them with just a switchblade? Would she be fast enough? These weren't the opportunistic thugs that jumped her on the sidewalk. Those boys had been sloppy. These were stone cold killers who wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet in her.

Slowly, Catherine uncurled her hand, revealing the memory card. As Basayev reached for it, she let it slip through her fingers and drop to the floor. Both of them bent down to pick it up. Basayev's hand went for the memory card. Catherine's hand went to her boot.

With an elegant calm and a smooth speed, Catherine grabbed her switchblade and clicked it up in one seamless motion. Basayev was first. She connected with his hand, slicing and drawing blood before sinking the blade into his side. She yanked it out as her foot careened into his chest, sending him tumbling back into the desk.

The henchman was next. Catherine spun and with a steady roundhouse kick, connected with his ribs. The knife slashed across his chest. He wasn't dead, but Catherine wasn't waiting another damn second. With expert precision, the knife closed and dropped back into her boot as she grabbed her gun and magazine. The click of the magazine and the slide of a round entering the chamber was music to her ears as she pulled her coat off the hook, grabbed her go bag, and darted out the door.


Catherine didn't stop running. It was the only thing she could do. Coen was who knows where and she had been made. This was the scenario that she had planned for, but prayed would never happen. The go bag was an agent necessity. Emergency cash, her passport, a burner phone, amongst a few other wilderness survival necessities and weapons were all she had.

With trembling hands, she pulled out the burner and turned it on. There was only one number programmed in. As the call connected and the operator's voice came on the line, her words made her blood turn to ice, "Agent code- Romeo October Lima, seven three niner. Be advised, the Grozny safe house has been compromised."

Just four more words that she never thought she would have to say. "Agent compromised. Going dark."


Steve closed his eyes.

He was back on the airstrip at Anacostia-Bolling. Coen's throat in his grip. Just one flex of his hand and he could crush the weasel's windpipe.

But it wasn't enough.

It wouldn't bring Doris back. It wouldn't bring Catherine back.

In her final moments, Doris had sputtered and stammered about how much the CIA had taken from her. But what about him? He lost his mother. His father. Lost Joe. Catherine, the love of his life, was still radio silent. Had been for months.

Steve opened his eyes and the Capitol building came into view from the picture window of his hotel room. He was four bottles deep into a six pack and the alcohol wasn't doing a damn thing to numb the pain. He shifted and the sling that held his arm steady bit into his wounded shoulder.

He could go after her. She had dropped a breadcrumb about her place not too far from Langley. He could go there. Start there. He had his passport. He could track her down.

Was it even worth going back to Hawaii? What did he have left? A job that had been born out of corruption? Out of his father's murder?

A job chasing after justice and peace? Where was his peace? Didn't he deserve at least that?

Steve scrolled through his phone and tried calling Catherine again. Maybe if she saw the call come from his number instead of a burner, she'd pick up. He tapped on her name and waited. The call connected and for a fleeting second, he hoped.

The robotic operator crushed the flitter of optimism. "I'm sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnected."

He cursed and ended the call. Quickly, he tapped through his messages until he found the one she had sent from her Company issued phone. He pressed the number and waited.

"I'm sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnected."

"FUCK!" He roared as he hurled his phone against the wall. Why the hell wasn't she answering? She always answered.

She always fucking answered.

He used to call her in the middle of the night when she was on board the Enterprise just to fall asleep. She always answered. She was the one who always promised to watch his six. To be in his ear. When his dad had been murdered and Freddie had been KIA, she fought him tooth and nail to get to the island to be there for him. When Joe had been killed, she was on a plane within the hour to do whatever he needed done. Where the hell was Catherine when he needed her most?

Steve reached in his pocket and pulled out the polaroid. They had swapped it back and forth in Montana, ending with her slipping it in his pack sometime on the plane back to the States.

The kid in the photo stared back at him. He was old enough to be that kid's father. The kid in the polaroid didn't know a damn thing about life. Didn't know how much hell he'd walk through in the next twenty years. Didn't know just how much he'd fall in love with the young lady sitting beside him in the narrow aircraft carrier corridor. The young lady with the dark hair and those eyes that mesmerized and intoxicated him.

He was broken and beaten, but Steve still had a chip and a chair. He stretched and grunted in pain as he snatched his phone off the floor. There was someone who, he thought, might know something. Steve pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

"Hello?"

Steve cleared his throat of the bitterness and anger that had built up, "Uh, Mrs. Rollins? It's, uh, it's Steve McGarrett."

"Oh, Steve! What have I always told you? It's still just Evelyn, dear. Now, tell me what's wrong. You don't sound so good, sweetheart."

Something about Evelyn's voice made his chest tight. Made his breath short. She was a mom through and through. Not just the kind who baked cookies and went to book club or called you up on the phone on a random Sunday afternoon just to check in, though she did those things with a superiority that put other southern women to shame. No. Evelyn just knew. "I, uh, I was hoping you'd heard from Catherine recently. I'm having a little trouble gettin' in touch with her."

Evelyn sighed, "I'm sorry, honey. We haven't. Not for a few months now. She's been awful quiet lately. She usually gets that way when she's working, you know."

"I know."

There was a momentary pause before Evelyn spoke up again. "Steve, what happened? You don't sound like yourself."

"My, uh…" His throat felt like sand. The words disappeared on his tongue. Was it really right for his ex-girlfriend's mother to be the one he told first? "My mother died. Doris, she- she, uh, she died."

"Steve, I'm so sorry. Are you in Hawaii?"

"No, uh, no, ma'am. I'm in D.C., actually. I was hoping to catch Catherine while I'm here. I, uh, I know she's got a place outside the city."

Evelyn sighed, "I can send you the address, but I don't think she's there."

"I'd appreciate that, ma'am."

"Steve, honey, why don't you come down and stay with us for a little bit? We have the room. You're always welcome here, you know. Take some time to yourself. You and Catherine are so much alike, so listen to me when I tell you this- it's okay to hurt. To be sad. It's okay to feel like a human once in a while."

The polaroid burned in his hand.

It's okay to feel human once in a while.

That's what Catherine had said to him right after Amy took the photo.

It's okay to feel human once in a while.

But what if he couldn't face his own mortality without her by his side? She had always been the one who made him brave. Catherine was his guardian angel.

Evelyn cleared her throat, "The offer stands, dear. If you need some quiet, some time to find some peace, just come on to the house."

Peace. That's what he needed. Manassas tickled the back of his mind. "Thanks. Uh, thank you, Evelyn. I… I appreciate it."

"And Steve?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'm very sorry to hear about your mom. You call me if you need anything, okay, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am."


Dear Catherine,

I don't really know what to say or how to start this. It's been a while since I sent you an actual letter.

I don't know where you are right now. I've tried calling you about a million times. I even called your mom. Hoped she knew where you were. She sent me your address so I figured I'd just send this off and hope that at some point you get it. Maybe before February.

Since you're still dark, I'm heading back to Hawaii with Danny. I hope this gets to you and I hope it makes some kind of sense because fuck it- I don't know where my head is at.

I guess I should tell you that Doris died. Or maybe you already heard. But she did. I was there.

Now I have to tell Mary. Fuck, Catherine. I have to tell Mary. I have to break her heart. I need you more than I can put into words. You were always so good with her. I fucking need you and I hate this. I hate that you got taken from me. I hate that they ripped you out of my life.

Why the hell won't you just pick up your fucking phone?

We don't get life on our terms. We never really choose how it's going to look. Only what we do with the information when we get it.

I said that to Danny and now it's the only thing in my head. Something about it is making me miss you more than I have in a long time. I hate what happened to us, but what I hate more is that I didn't do a fucking thing to fight it.

I feel like I'm lost, Catherine. Like I can't find my bearings. I keep trying to put one foot in front of the other, but nothing makes sense. Hell, this damn letter probably isn't making any sense.

I lost Doris the first time nearly thirty years ago. Why can't I make sense of it again? I remember your toast back in Vientiane- when we were UC going after Hassan. You said "here's to knowing when to walk away."

How do you know when to walk away from it all?

Wish you were here.

Steve


"Whatcha got there?" Steve asked as he walked in from the lanai with Will on his shoulders.

Catherine wiped her sleeve across her eyes, soaking up the tears that streaked her cheeks. "I, uh… I just.. I found it today…" She stammered as she handed Steve the letter.

He felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs as his eyes scanned the page. Carefully, he lifted Will off his shoulders and set him on the floor. He ran off and was gone in an instant. "Wow, I, uh…. I never thought you got it." Steve choked out.

"I didn't." Her lip quivered. "I, um… I was looking in some boxes for something else and I came across it in a stack of mail… You- you remember how fast we packed up my house in Manassas. I remember thinking I'd get around to opening all the old mail once we got settled here and I never did."

Steve blew out a sharp breath, "I think all that happened when you went on the run from Basayev… Right? I, uh, I read that in your journal. I think the dates matched up."

Catherine nodded, her eyes welling up with tears again. She wrapped her arms around his strong body and held him. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there." She whimpered. "I'm so sorry, Steve."

He shook his head and pulled her in closer, "We don't get life on our terms. We just do the best we can with the information we have on hand."

"I would have been there." She whispered. "I would have had your six."

"I know." Steve nodded, "You'd walk to hell and back just to watch my six."


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Without fail, 10x07 makes me cry every single time. Such an incredible episode. The writing, the production, the acting- Alex did a phenomenal job. Leave your thoughts and comments in the reviews!

This is the LAST call for Q and A questions that I'll be doing for this story! SO, if you have any questions you want me to answer, leave them in the reviews, DM me, or hit me up on Twitter or Instagram. (XOMaggieWrites)

I love you guys!

XO,

-Mags-


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