I do NOT own anything, but the plot.

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I'm having some issues with the content of chapter 6, I changed it and FanFiction put the WRONG chapter, so I'm waiting on this to change the appropriate chapter contents!

As always, thank you!


Nalo a loaʻa

-loosely translate to "lost and found"-


CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Danny didn't care for protocol as he approached the McGarrett house.

If Steve didn't answer, he'd throw a rock through any window to gain entry. Eying up the potential weapons to use littering the front of Steve's house, Danny wondered which would do the job best. Spying a perfectly round one as he knocked, he felt accomplished knowing that he could piss his partner off and make a statement in one fell swoop.

To his surprise, the door opened, and he was met with the same dishevelled Steve that left his house only a few hours earlier.

"Danny," Steve started, his tone half a sigh.

"You left when I told you not to."

Not needing to use force, Danny used a tone he knew Steve wouldn't back down from.

"Never was one to listen to you," Steve muttered, turning to leave Danny at the door, unspoken allowance to enter the house. "Why break that habit of a lifetime?"

Entering the house, Danny chose which way he could direct this comment. He knew Steve's last question was more to himself than awaiting response, so he decided to not hold back.

"Y'know, Charlie wanted me to bring you cold leftovers because usually you end up helping him eat his, but today you left more than half of yours."

Danny knew the promise he made to Charlie, but it was an icebreaker, a reason to pursue a conversation that had the semblance of normalcy to it.

"Knew that secret wouldn't stay between us for long," Steve groused, turning to face his partner. "What do you want, Danny?"

"Wanted to see how you were doing-"

"I'm doing," Steve cut him off dryly. "Now, you can leave and go back to your kids."

"Why did you leave, Steve?" Danny asked, disregarding Steve's dismissal and Steve's ignorance that the kids should be at school. "I told you to stay where you were, that I would be no more than a few minutes. I come back and both you and my daughter were gone. I find her shut up in her bedroom and you were nowhere to be found."

"It wasn't right," Steve murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "I couldn't stay, Danny. Not when I could see how uncomfortable Gracie was becoming. That's her home, not mine."

If he was honest, Steve felt sick to his stomach at watching first-hand how Grace handled being in the same room with him, let alone next to him. He hated the way she ate so tensely, no doubt feigning politeness for her father.

It'd just be easier if he had never come home.

Grace's words lashed at his battered mind over and over again. It was one of the worst things he had ever heard, but the hits just kept coming at him. Steve didn't know how much more his beaten soul could take.

"I didn't deserve to be there, anymore."

"Didn't deserve to…" Danny started to repeat but cut himself off. "Stop the self-deprecating act, Steve. It doesn't suit you."

Steve didn't reply, just hung his head as he rubbed the back of his neck once more, a sign of his nerves. Slowly, Danny deflated, taking in the enormity of Steve's entire demeanour.

"Is that what you really think?" he asked, and Steve stopped looking at him. "Babe."

"Don't, Danny." Steve stopped him with a harsh tone. "You've got a daughter that is struggling. She needs you more than I do," Steve dismissed and turned on his heels. "You know where the door is."

While Danny acknowledged he had a daughter that needed him, he was in turmoil over the fact he had a best friend, a man he saw as a brother, also needed him. Watching Steve disappear out the back door, he reminded himself of the reason he was here. The team would be here soon, and they had decided now was a time to turn a corner and rediscover their footing as Ohana.

Growling, the New Jersey detective clenched his fist and enforced his resolve to not let Steve win and get him to leave. Following the former SEAL's steps, Danny found Steve on the sand a few feet from the Adirondack chairs. With his butt buried in the sand, his knees drawn up, Steve staring off at the sea, Danny knew he had to stop thinking so selfishly. Heading over, he said nothing as he plonked down next to his best friend.

"Spent a lot of nights staring at this exact same view."

His admission was soft, but Danny wanted Steve to know that he kept him near.

"I never said anything, but I think the others knew this was where I would come," he continued, not looking anywhere but at the view ahead, the vast span of sea. "I felt connected to you here."

"You hate the sea," Steve groused, still set like stone in his position. "Why ever would you want to stare at it?"

"Because you love it," Danny admonished sheepishly.

"Loved it," Steve corrected. "I don't get the same enjoyment anymore."

"You don't mean that…"

"You saw my file … laundry list of injuries, Danny, came with a laundry list of issues."

There was more to what Steve had said and Danny heard every word of it. The wording he used told Danny that Steve had heard the conversation involving the Governor.

"You can talk to me, you know? I know talking is so far out of your nature and my attitude since you've been back has just further confirmed what that little drill sergeant says in your head about being strong and stoic and not needing anymore."

"I don't need anyone," Steve remarked. "The last five months proved it."

"Yeah, and the way your clothes hang on you prove otherwise," Danny batted back, giving him a sideways glance. "I'll sit here for however long it takes, Steve. I'll even follow you being that's the kind of annoying chap I am."

Steve started to chew the inside of his cheek. He didn't want to unburden himself entirely, but his soul was begging him to purge itself for relief.

True to his word, Danny sat silently waiting.

"I felt like everything was being ripped away from me …" Steve paused, hesitant to continue. "First my life, then my entire navy career, then my ability to be me, and then you guys." He looked confused, his brow furrowing as he tried to muddle through his thoughts. "For five months, I was locked away with the promise that I would get to go home … and when it finally came time…" Cutting himself short, Steve drew a shuddering breath. "It felt like I never came home."

"Steve, I don't even know how I can make this right," Danny started, his tone soft.

"You don't have to."

And Steve meant that.

He wanted nothing from the team, but to know they were happy. If that meant without him, he would make peace with that and try to move on.

Then it hit him what could be done to resolve the situation.

"Actually, you can make this right by leaving," Steve started, not even a stitch of malice in his voice. "Please go and be with the kids. I don't want to take any more of your time."

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Babe, but the kids are taking a day off to be with Rachel, and I have nowhere else to go."

"Danny…"

"And like I said … spent a lot of nights staring at this exact same view and never once got bored… so I'll sit here as long as you want to."

Steve sat up as Danny moved, stretching his leg out in front of him, shocked that Danny was definitely not prepared to leave. The small groan he let out told Steve Danny's ACL was playing up and he vaguely remembered his friend helping him up off the floor.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

Cocking a brow, Danny looked at Steve perplexed. "You're sorry? For what?"

"Aggravating your knee," Steve commented, motioning to Danny's right leg. "I vaguely remember you helped me off the floor last night and I'm like double your size."

"Triple," Danny corrected, giving Steve a small yet friendly smile. "Quadruple when you're as drunk as you were last night. Like picking up a walrus."

There was silence between them, and Danny hated it.

"Actually, a walrus would've been easier to handle."

Hearing a curt snicker from Steve, Danny felt himself ease into the situation a little more.

"I don't even remember leaving the bar let alone getting to yours," Steve admittedly feebly. "It was never my intention to end up there."

"Well, you did, and you can't change the fact, okay?"

Steve merely nodded his head in understanding, allowing the fact to sink in.

"I need a beer," Steve replied, gulping harsh. It was barely lunchtime, but he didn't care "Want one?"

"Yeah, go on … want to stay outside?"

Danny nodded to the chairs behind them. He hoped that in the sanctuary of their usual spot, Steve would open up a little more.

"Can do," Steve remarked and headed off.

Leaving Danny to get himself out of the sand – something he hoped he would moan about later – Steve approached the house, part of him finally feeling settled in amongst the storm raging. He knew his hangover wasn't anywhere near over, but a beer felt necessary if he was going to cope with the impending chat, Danny was going to force upon him.

It was as he had his hand on the fridge door, however, he felt his head begin to swim, the noise of the back door slamming startling his flashbacks into life. He wasn't even aware of Danny coming up to the house, but the noise could only be his partner. Pushing away, Steve stood to the side, braced against the kitchen counter trying his hardest to even his breathing.

Focus on one breath.

He didn't trust his SEAL training to help, it had failed him too many times before, but he trusted the inner voice – who sounded a lot like Danny - enough to let the words sink into his brain and try to combat this wash of memories. But even that wasn't enough as they began to win and all he heard was shooting and screaming, his mutinous mind throwing missions gone bad at him, washing sweat over him as he lost his grip on reality.

"Hey Steve!"

Danny's voice broke through the memories, louder yet distant all at once, but Steve couldn't reply, his chest was so tight he was struggling to draw in enough breath.

"Hey Steve, you gone to buy the beer? Or wait, don't tell me, you don't have any money to buy beer!" Danny's voice drew closer. "Steve?"

When Danny came to the doorway of the kitchen, he saw his partner's hunched pose and his heart sank. The rigidity of Steve's muscles told him that Steve was having more than a panic attack, and the fact he was yet to even acknowledgement him served more answers than any words Steve could say.

For a moment Danny didn't know what to do, but slowly he came to realise that Steve was in the middle of a flashback – something he had witnessed a time or two before. He could tell that Steve was trying to even his breathing out and was lost in the moment, so he decided to tread softly.

"Whatever is going on in that head of yours, Steve, isn't real. You're home, Babe."

Cautiously, Danny cover Steve's white knuckles with his hand, his other coming to his partners shoulder, hoping the touch would ground.

"Listen to my voice, Steve. I am right here … in your kitchen with you. You're safe."

Watching carefully, Danny watched Steve's eyes flutter, his blinking becoming rapid as if he was coming out of the flashback and he heard his partner's breathing hitch. Once Steve's head felt forward and his body started to somewhat relax, Danny paced himself before he spoke.

"You back in the room?"

Steve merely nodded, unmoved from the hunched position he was in. He remained like that, drawing in ragged breaths.

"Want to tell me what happened there?" Danny inquired, his gut telling him Steve had a flashback. "Where did you go?"

"Kabul," Steve replied bluntly. "Not Kabul. I don't know anymore. They're a mix of things."

Steve's words were heavy and haunted, roughened by the exhaustion the flashback had created. It had started as a mission gone back in Iraq, but then Steve remembered the distinct details merge into the warehouse from April, only to snap back and forth. Every time he focused on a member of the team, they vanished, but the noise was a constant - the screaming, the wailing, the explosions.

"Sorry," Steve suddenly uttered.

"You're awfully apologetic today, Steven." Danny remained in place, jesting at Steve. "Whatever happened was not your fault."

"Franklin did this because of me." The statement came as Steve tightened his grasp on the side. He had been dealing with nightmares and the like before Franklin, but since the threat was pose on his face, Steve couldn't swallow the dreams and carry on. "I have to live with that."

"It's over," Danny countered. "He's dead, Steve. You got to come home."

Home.

The one thing Steve had prayed for over the passing months, and now he had it, he still felt like everything was a fingers width away.

"I know, right now, you think you're losing everything, but it's coming back."

Danny patted Steve on the back lightly, turning away to head to the refrigerator. He opened it, pulling a bottle of water out and went back over to his partner, his stance yet to relax.

"Here." Danny offered him the bottle. "You're home … so relax."

The doorbell went and Steve took the water from Danny, giving a grateful smile. There was still so much carnage around him, but having Danny here felt like pieces of himself were resetting. Standing taller, Steve had to believe the rest of him would follow, or he would have to adapt to living the rest of his life as half a man. Hearing Danny talking as the doorbell rang again, he unscrewed the water, taking a swig before following the noise. Steve came out of the kitchen, capping the water as Danny opened the door. He was quickly met with the sight of Chin, Kono and Lou entering the house, all greeting Danny before turning their attention to Steve.

"Why are you all here?" he asked, looking between his team members.

In all honestly, Steve felt the phantom tightness in his chest begin at seeing them all here. They should've been at work, Danny should've been, too, but here they were. Hope rose in him like a tidal swirl and he desperately tried to breathe through the riptide, not allowing himself to sink into the clutches of hopefulness.

"We're ready for that talk now if you are, Boss Man," Kono said, her voice remaining soft. "Sorry, it took so long."

Her cheeks flushed with shame, her eyes unable to fully meets his as she reminded herself of the way she had treated a man she valued and respected. She had a lot of ground to cover before she forgave herself, even if Steve forgave her.

"There's nothing to talk about," Steve surmised, his hands falling to his sides. "I understand."

"Steve," Kono started.

"Honestly, you guys should be at work." He started to walk towards the back doors, preparing to flee. "There's nothing to discuss anymore."

"The governor gave us the day," Lou countered, fixing Steve with a hard glance. "So, shut up and sit down, Boy. There's everything to talk about."

"We bought beer," Kono tried, shaking a six pack at him.

"And ordered pizza," Chin tried, smiling. "We're here for the long haul, Brah."

"So, you either talk, or we enjoy the silence," Lou added, situating himself on the sofa. "Choice is yours."

"I do like peace and quiet," Chin agreed which made Kono snicker in agreement.

Steve watched as Chin joined Lou on the sofa, Danny taking the recliner, while Kono set the beer down on the coffee table before perching on the arm of the sofa. They all looked at him, four sets of eyes, and he couldn't stop the rising panic and with it his mind losing control, unable to keep back past events.

"Steve?" Danny quizzed from across the room. "Drink the water and don't think about what's going on in that head of yours," Danny ordered, watching how Steve's face became paler. "Listen to me, Steven. You're home. You're in Hawaii."

The others looked between them, unable to work out what was happening between the pair, but they didn't say a word.

"Drink," Danny ordered bluntly.

Steve listened, allowing Danny's words to steal his attention enough that the incoming sound of shouting and gunfire wasn't rushing upon him like a tidal wave. Instead, he kept telling himself he was home, in Hawaii, in his own house. He forced oxygen into his lungs, keeping the mantra going that he was home regardless of his mutinous mental state.

Getting up, Danny walked passed Steve, grabbing a dining room chair and placing it on the other side of the coffee table directly opposite the others. He then turned back to Steve who was gulping the water greedily, trying in vain to not let the newest flashback win.

"Sit," Danny motioned.

Almost mechanically, Steve moved, sliding one foot in front of another. Danny's hand came to his bicep, and he immediately appreciated the human contact as the noises in his ears started to retract and he could hear the crashing waves from behind him.

"Sit and calm yourself," Danny coerced gently. "Now, we'll sit and wait," Danny commented, his tone light as he reclaimed the recliner. "We're in no rush."

"None of us are," Kono added, trying to make sure Steve heard her optimism. "We'll wait."

And for that, Steve felt greedy.

His eyes fell on the beer as his hands fell between his legs, the almost empty bottle of water twisted between both hands. The motion of pushing on plastic occupied him enough to keep from falling prey to another flashback.

True to what they said, no one spoke or even moved. They remained still with concern and honoured that they were there to put their lives back on track. It was in this near silence, that Steve found himself unwinding, the walls began to break because although he knew the outcome could still be him leaving, he knew he could do it with a somewhat clearer conscience.

"I didn't want any of this to happen."

Steve's words sliced the quiet air suddenly and unexpected. Each of the team had taken to their own thoughts as they gazed upon their leader. His features were drawn and gaunt, comparable with five months ago, the Steve they knew didn't exist, not in physical form or mental wellbeing.

"I argued," he admitted feebly. "The absolute best I could."

And not one of the team doubted that.

He remembered the first few days after he woke up, when he declined pain meds to clear his head and use his training to help him through, but he lost that battle quickly when he jeopardised his health.

"They told me about the plan," he spoke, keeping his sentences short and concise. "I didn't think too much of it in the beginning … just hoped and prayed it was all a lie."

In actual fact, Steve hated waking up alone. Had he looked up, he'd have seen that the team took that fact harder than he would ever know.

"Every time I woke up, I thought you'd be there, that someone would be there. That it'd be a stupid nightmare, but no one came." The plastic of the bottle crushed in his grasp as he felt his anger growing at the memory. "No one listened to me about calling one of you. Then Denning was called. He told me how going home wasn't an option."

Steve was yet to look at them, but he fingers wrapped tighter on the nearly empty bottle of water.

"Then instead of it getting better, it got worse." He felt his brow furrow, the confusion he felt months ago but let go of hit him full throttle. "I was out of the equation … I was dead … it shouldn't have gotten worse. It was meant to get easier. You were meant to be safe."

"Babe…" Danny started, hating how Steve was unravelling.

Steve's head shot up, his eyes watering heavily.

"I can deal with being the target. I can. I can cope with that. But a threat placed on you lot is crippling, but the moment Grace and Charlie even Joan were placed in the line of fire, I knew I had to do it correctly."

The admission hit all of them; Steve looked completely wrecked by that turn of events, and Danny knew there was so much more to this case than Denning had told him. The report he'd breezed through merely for Steve's physical wellbeing still held a heap load of shit than Steve's past had brought to all their lives. The threat to their lives hadn't just been the four other members of Five-0, no one was safe.

"I knew you'd hate me, Danny, but I thought I could, at least, deal with that, but you hating me because my past used your kids ... man, that is a fate worse than death." He hung his head, willing his eyes to stop watering. "I felt like I lost the battle when I decided to admit defeat and stop fighting. Felt like I had no right to come home after that."

Against all of his prior comments, Danny felt his own pang of guilt. Steve was always the one to rush in first, save the day if he could, especially if the ones he loved were in danger. It was as ingrained into Steve as much as Danny's paternal instincts were.

However, Danny never imagined his kids would be a weak spot to Steve. Sure, he knew he loved them, but he didn't realise how much.

"If he'd hurt them." Steve's words were almost a gut-wrenching moan. "If he'd hurt any of you, I'd…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. The idea of the team being hurt because of him was something he knew he'd never recover from. He'd tear the world apart to avenge that, but he'd never atone for it. No amount of bloodshed would take their blood off his hands.

"My dad died because of me," Steve stated sorrowfully. "And I haven't gotten rid of even an ounce of that guilt in six years. How am I meant to deal with Franklin threatening all of you?"

"Steve, he's dead. We're all safe," Danny acknowledged. "And from here on out, we deal with threats together. The governor knows our standpoint on this, too."

"Yeah, Brah, we made a point to tell Denning he never pulls a stunt like this again. We've put enough criminals away to know how to run this," Chin added.

"After all, we were taught by the best," Kono mused, a weak, unsure smile on the face.

She had a million and one things to say to Steve. Most of her anger toward him had come from the betrayal of mourning him only to see him alive when she had just started to wake up in the morning and not miss him. Now she wanted to make up for every moment she had let pass her by in the last two weeks.

"Best or craziest," Danny mused. "Depends on who you ask."

And for a second, it felt like the world was right again, spinning evenly on its axis.