Warnings: Strong language throughout, Threat of Violence and Serious bodily harm

Chapter Rating: Back to its usual 'T' rating

Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii Five-0, or its characters they belong to CBS. Only ones I own are the ones I've stated I do (I created Jeff Taylor and his son Dominic), so all the bad guys except for the ringleader Georg Rutherford. All unrecognized OC's not created by other authors are of my own creation.

Chapter 15


Two Weeks Later

1300 Hours. July 4, 2019 - Thursday - MTR Ward 4th Floor Patient Room 424, Moanalua, Oahu.

Scott is sitting in his custom wheelchair facing the window showered and dressed again in black cargo shorts and navy colored and yellow font Grunt Style t-shirt with the Navy insignia on the left side. It's been two hours since his PT session with Wade, and he's still feeling a dull ache in his chest. He'd only gone to his PT session this morning because Wade had promised him that he could try walking with forearm crutches today, and get some practice in before, before god he can't even say it in his own head. He still can't believe it. He's gone. Brandon's dead, his best friend since he was 14 really is dead. Even though he's only told seldom two people they met at Great Lakes or Navy boot camp. That's not entirely true, he can't bring himself to think about those memories right now. Doesn't want to think or do much of anything right now. He's not exactly in a festive mood.

He's been using his hospital gifted walker for the past two weeks. For anything longer distances or without assistance he has to use the wheelchair. Which he hates vehemently. It doesn't matter that he and Isaac had a wheelchair race two weeks ago down the hall and he won, and when Isaac asked for rematch Isaac won. Than there didn't to be a tie breaker race to determine who really was better. Both men of super competitive. Scott won and now he has bragging rights, and can lord over Isaac's head that it's all in the McGarrett genes baby.

Lane thinks he's had enough time to recover from his PT session and brooding, as he steps into his partner's room. He's purposefully making noise the other will hear him and not startle him.

"Hey Scott come on man you must be hungry after that PT session. You know you have to eat man doctors' orders. Or the NG tube goes back in." Lane tells his friend.

Oh, yeah that's right. He'd gotten it removed a week and a half ago when he finally started to stomach solid food again and keep it down. He has to eat for his health he's never more in his life hated his diabetes than he does right now, and he has been, just barely enough over the line to keep the doctor's and his overprotective big brother of a partner happy. He's only two months older than him. Two months that's it. Guess he's trying to fill the Steve sized void or space in his friend's heart, but it's not working.

When he had showed up that Tuesday night after Havika had been shot and everyone saw he was okay. Lane had gone back to Scott's room with him, and they'd had a long talk about where Lane had been and what he'd been up to. And how sorry he was for going MIA. Well Lane talked and Scott just sat there and listened. He eventually fell asleep out of pure exhaustion not because he didn't care what his friend was saying or the fact that he was apologizing for being a monumental ass the past two days. He was just genuinely tired; his energy levels were a lot lower than they were before. The doctor's say that's normal with the brain surgery he had and all the other resulting trauma from his accident.

Lane stayed with him that night and then in the morning before his doctor came in, he told Scott about Brandon. At this point it's been four days since it happened. He needed time to process it at least somewhat and not be a total mess for the wake and, then funeral which Allison that's Brandon's wife or widow now wants to have the wake and the funeral in two weeks' time. Which is now coming up in a few days.

It's only been four days he hasn't processed shit within those days. He's just been ignoring almost everyone he can, eating and drinking the minimum requirements to stay healthy and keep the doctors happy and off his back, and he goes to PT sessions in the afternoons Mondays, Thursdays and Sundays. So, he can have two days' rest in between. He's downright miserable, hell he'd even say borderline depressed, and that's a no go with his doctor's. He heard them talking a few days ago about watching him signs of depression and possibly putting him on more pills. He doesn't want that he's just gotten taken off of almost all of his IVs lines and drips last week. He's virtually IV free. Except now instead of pain meds being pushed through his IV it's the damn anti-convulsants and his immunosuppressant's.

Yeah, he has seizures now that's a new thing he's also got to deal with. He's got something called PTE or post traumatic epilepsy. That's not all he's got folks, oh no, he's got dyslexia (it's official now) documented in his medical file and everything and adult ADHD. He may or may not have had a little okay major emotional blow up in occupational therapy on Tuesday. Which according to his oh so astute doctors was more than just frustration at not being able to do a simple picture puzzle that his six-year niece could do in a flash.

So, Scott had been tested just like he'd been tested by the neuropsychologist for his dyslexia he was tested for ADHD. That's been documented too. In the last five years, he's had more happen to him medically and be long lasting than in his twelve years he was with the Teams.

Lane walks further into his friend's room and up to the window so he's beside him looking out the window at the view. "Don't look now man but I think your ADHD is showing I've been calling your name for two minutes now."

Scott turns around on a dime almost rolling over Lane's feet. "Oh, so you're startin' in on the disability jokes already nice man. Real classy of you."

Lane looks apologetically at his friend and partner. "I'm sorry Scott I know I shouldn't be joking like that I know you're..."

Scott points a finger in Lane's direction, "If you say sensitive I'mma punch you where the sun don't shine. I'm the perfect height for that now you know." Scott laughs ruefully.

"Emotionally compromised is that the right word for it?" Lane asks.

"Emotitonal time bomb maybe? Shit I don't know, just don't pro-promise you won't treat me with kid gloves I handled Brandon just fine." Scott reminds him.

Lane raises an eyebrow. "Okay okay not totally, I didn't have a seizeer is my main point."

"Are you done stalling now? I'm about ready to gnash on some major grindz."

Scott as stupidly ridiculous smile on his face. His partner somehow always knows just what to say. "Careful partner your surfer vibe is showing."

"Okay McDog. You've had your fun can we go eat now? Maybe go play a few games, listen to some music. No fireworks until later tonight, then we can come back sit here, and watch all the nature documentaries you want."

"Sounds like my kind of celebration. Let's go."

Meanwhile over at Casa de McGarrett the Independence Day bash is in full swing. Everyone is dressed in swimwear and or pool cover ups. Even those who can't get in the pool are still enjoying the company. Evan can't get in the pool because of his left arm being in a sling but he's still sitting poolside with Kali, Ailani, and Brianna.

Young Jake McGarrett in true McGarrett fashion is milking his broken leg for all it's worth, and his girlfriend knows it. She's happy to tend to him knowing that she'll have four more months than she thought with her boyfriend before he ships out now, instead of the two and a half months originally. Now is she saying she's glad he got in a near fatal car accident and could have possibly died. No of course not, she just thanks God that there was someone watching out for him and Grace that day and they're both able to be here surrounded by friends and family celebrating today.

Will of course is being the supportive boyfriend and isn't in the pool with the other teens and kids at the party. In solidarity, come to think of it, there are quite a few who aren't able to join in, in the pool festivities and water volleyball game that's going to take place in an hour. It's going to Feds VS Five-0 Ohana.

The teams may be missing missing their respective team leaders, but they still know how to have fun. It's like Havika says they have keep things are normal as they can for the kids. Especially the Montgomery boys, Havika as soon as he'd been given the all clear from his doctor two weeks ago invited Allison and her boys on behalf of Scott to the Fourth of July celebration.

Allison is initially hesitant, but everything's already taken care of funeral wise as well as the wake. Family and friends have been notified, and they're making the flight out tomorrow. Havika says even if she may not feel very festive or celebratory it'll be good for her to get out of the house. Plus, Havika's own kids while not having known the Montgomery boys as well as the McGarrett's do, do know what the boys are feeling right now.

The funeral itself is going to be strictly immediate family and close friends and Brandon's SEAL team. It's put in his last will and testament of who he wants at his funeral and wake. Brandon was an Irish American. And his family is big, quite large in number. He's one of seven kids. Scott's house may be large but it's not that big. To accommodate all the aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents is his best friend had. So, they're will be a memorial service back in New York made tentatively for two months out from now where ALL of Brandon's family can come and remember their, grandson, cousin, friend and uncle.

Allison has to admit though it's good to see her sons laughing and in good spirits just being the rowdy teenagers they are. Though mix rowdy teenage boys, with a pool and copious amounts of caffeine via endless supply of soda and something's bound to go wrong.

As Allison is sitting at the head or center of the outside of the pool she can clearly see her second youngest Dylan standing on the ledge of the rock face made for jumping. "Dylan Montgomery! You better not be doing what I think you're doing!"

Dylan looks over at his Mom and then looks back at his younger brother Aaron and the other boys around him. He gives the group a thumbs up and then jumps off the ledge into the water, there's a sickening thud before he hits the water though. He pops up out of the water just fine or so he thinks.

As he swims towards the edge of the pool he turns to look up at Wyatt, "Pay up Wyatt I did."

"Yeah, dude, uh Uncle Havi!" Wyatt yells and climbs down from the ledge and runs over to get his Uncle.

Dylan swim to the side of the pool." Kali tells the fifteen-year-old brunette boy. Kali comes with a towel quickly so she can start to stop the bleeding in the boy's chin.

Havika comes over with Wyatt and Junior. Kali's had Dylan sit on one of the pool lounge chairs. "Hey Dylan I don't want to scare you but your smacked your chin pretty hard on the ledge below when you jumped. Kali move the towel let me see his chin." Kali does as asked. There's a nasty look deep gash in the boy's chin on the right side. "You need stitches Dylan."

"Ah man." Dylan complains. "So...so worth it though."

"Dylan Jason Montgomery." Allison reprimands her second youngest.

"Hey mom." Dylan tries to smile and winces.

"Don't move your chin okay buddy." Havika turns to Junior. "Junior go inside in the kitchen on the right-side cabinet there should be a first aid kid inside that a suture kit bring it out here."

Junior nods to the older SEAL. "On it Chief."

"What are you going to do Kamaka suture it yourself?" Danny asks incredously.

"I am in fact Danny hospitals are going to overrun with other Fourth of July incidents and accidents delaying wait times, any one of us SEALs are capable of basic first aid."

"Of course, you are. I should know that...I'm..."

"Married to one we know." Half of the adults chorus back to the blond detective in stars and stripes board shorts affectionately. They're actually Steve's Danny says he'd never where something so bright and outlandish.

Within minutes Junior is back with first aid kit and the suture kit. Junior helps with supplies while Havika does the actual cleaning and suturing the wound closed. Five minutes later Dylan is cleaned up and wound stitched closed. Allison looks at her son and then at the agent who just saved her a trip to the nearest emergency room.

"What do you say to Mr. Kamaka Dylan?" Allison asks her son.

"Thank you, sir." Dylan replies.

Havika smiles at the young teen, and beckons him closer as he puts the first aid kit aside. Dylan comes closer and listens as the older man whispers in his ear. "I'd give that dismount a five, landing a ten. Jump outwards next time."

Dylan comes back and just smiles wide, that hurts a little pulling on his new stitches.

"What'd he tell you kid you've got a look on your face, a look my husband has when he does something dumb." Danny muses.

"Yes, Dylan as Mr. Williams said that was a very rash and stupid thing to do son. You could've been hurt worse. Than what would I have told your Nanna hmm? What are you going to tell your Nanna hmm?" Allison asks her son in disbelief. It really isn't a true McGarrett celebration she's found unless someone gets hurt. She just wishes just a little that it wasn't the week before their father's funeral.

"I'll think of something; Mom I really am sorry." Dylan tells his Mom. He then turns to Havika. "So, do you think I'll have a cool scar?"

"Dylan!" His mom starts.

"I think you'll have a decent scar better come up with a cool story to tell your friends." Havika says.

Dylan grins at the older man. "Alright I think that's enough pool fun for everyone for a bit who's hungry cause it's chow time." Danny calls out to the large assembled group. He and Lou have been manning the grill in Scott and Steve's absence. Danny has to say he does miss the two brothers bickering over the grill. The last time that happened was Jake's going away party last month.

Enough tables and chairs to seat a small army have already been set up outside in and around the tiki bar where Danny's been grilling. He thinks Scott's got a really nice set up back him. Whole outdoor entertainment system and everything. He thinks they may have to start doing game day's over here instead of that their house.

Food and drink is plentiful and seemingly endless, and laughter is loud and smiles all around bright, and warm. Danny can't help but think of Steve his husband, partner and best friend and where he is on today of all days. Independence Day, a day about liberation and celebrating independent and freedom, of which Steve has none right now. As of today July 4, 2019, America is 243 years old.

Happy Birthday America, Danny thinks as he savors a bite of perfectly cooked pineapple free steak.

While everyone else across the U.S. is celebrating today with cookouts, beach bashes, and bbq Steve McGarrett is counting all the freedoms he lost when he ordered Jerry to hack into those NCIS files three weeks ago.


1330 Hours. Halawa Correctional Facility - SC Wing, 99-902 Moanalua Road, Aiea, HI

Out of the going on three weeks now he's been here. He's been in solitary, the shu, the hole for two of those three weeks. What he's learned in those two weeks is that solitary confinement sucks and can really make a sane person go insane. He's caught himself more than once talking to himself and it isn't just about strategy of how to get a message to the outside world either. He's spiraling fast he doesn't know what'll happen to him if he stays her any longer. He has this almost he doesn't want to say obsession but everything has to be neat and tidy and clean, a prison cell that is barely any bigger than an average horse stable is anything but. Or cleaned to the bare minimum standards.

He's not just any inmate, he knows it, the guards know it, and even the other inmates know it, they'd been giving him a wide berth the moment he walked into the gen pop building to get to the SC wing. Steve has a feeling it's not because of his own status on the outside. Of being the leader of Five-0, the Governor's special taskforce. Of being married to his partner, Detective Sergeant Daniel Williams, or having a Fed for a brother.

No, well he thought that originally that's why the old man is in the PC wing actually. The other inmate is actually NCIS Special Agent Brianna Seeger's father, Conrad Seeger. Though that's a story for another time. Steve being given a wide berth in gen pop, of the downward looks and quick glances away when he catches another inmates eye is not because of who he is on the outside, but of who his brother is or had to have been on the inside. His brother couldn't have done something that bad, could he? To warrant such respect in a place like this. Steve knows all about prison hierarchy from the three almost four weeks he spent here nine years ago for allegedly killing Governor Jameson. At the time of the list are Murderers, cold blooded killers with no remorse. Those men get what Steve's heard as 'mad' respect around here and on the yard. They're like kings in the prison hierarchy and the lowest of the low are child molesters and rapists. Steve doesn't know where he fits in, he doesn't much care he doesn't want to fit in here. He wants to be out of here and back home with his Ohana, and Danny.

He's starting to rethink is doing what he did really worth it. Worth all this pain and heart ache he's causing those he loves the most. He should've just asked Scott, than he wouldn't be in this situation.

"McGarrett! Get up you got a visitor!" One of the guards' yells, at him through his door.

A visitor who'd be visiting me especially here and today of all days. He knows for a fact it's not Danny sadly for whatever reason his visitation authorization hasn't been put through yet. One of the agents maybe, an update in the case. No why would there be an update I'm the killer. Maybe it's Agent Sullivan with an update about Scott.

In the three weeks, he's been here he hasn't gotten any letters from Scott's doctors either. He hopes everything's okay with Scott. He's driving himself up the wall thinking about him, about Danny. Mostly about Scott and what he must think of him, he can't be the real killer. He knows he's not, right? Right?

"McGarrett I don't have all day come on over here." The guard asks the one nice friendly guard there is in this unit. All the rest seem to hate his guts. Steve walks over to the door puts his hands through the slot to be cuffed.

Once cuffed and secured Steve is brought over the visitation area the same one from nine years ago. Hasn't changed much at all phones still on hooks a cold metal stools cemented into the ground to sit on. What does surprise Steve is who his visitor is. It's Lance it's old Annapolis buddy and SEAL teammate for a while before he began to lead his own team. He also happens to be Scott's unit chief's boss.

I wonder what he's got to say? Steve thinks as he sits down on the seat opposite Lance on the other side of the bulletproof glass he picks up the phone.

"Lance well isn't this a surprise."

"Hey Steve how you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected man what do you think. It's weird though nobody's talked to me or even looked at me funny."

"And that's a bad thing because..." Lance asks.

"We'll it's not but I think it's got something to do with Scott and I think you know what it is. Come on you can tell me. It can't be that bad I mean you're his boss."

"I am Steve and you're my friend have been for a long time, but I don't betray my agents trust in me by going and telling their secrets to their brothers."

"So, he did do time? I knew it, I can see it on your face.

Lance blows out a breath, "Yes he did okay, but that's all I'm saying you can speculate and think about what he did all you want, but that's his story to tell you not mine. I don't make it my business to get into my agent's personal business, and that's what this is Steve, look friend or not I'm not telling what I know I'm sorry Steve that'd be unprofessional."

"I understand. I do guess all I could do was try. Hey do you think you could push Danny's visitation authorization through I'm going nuts in here without visitors."

"I'll see what I can do Steve. No promises."

"No promises it was your agents who put me in here." Steve rages.

"McGarrett cool it or you're going back to your cell." The guards warns stepping closer.

"That's all I ask man, please I'm going nuts just sitting around here, there's got to be something you can do." Steve's almost on the verge of begging now.

"Like I said I'll see what I can do Steve. The time has to fit the crime."

"Can't I get some special circumstance or something my brother's in the hospital. My family needs me. My team needs me."

"I know they do man and I…I hate seeing you in here like this, just…just hold for a few more days and I promise I'll have something drawn up to get you out."

"Mahalo Lance."

"Aloha Smooth Dog." Lance hangs up the phone and leaves the visitation room. He's got some people to talk to about getting one Steven J. McGarrett out of Halawa and soon, before something happens.


0500 Hours July 5th. Halawa Correctional Facility - SC Wing, 99-902 Moanalua Road, Aiea, HI

Turns out Steve doesn't have to wait a few more days. He's up bright and early the next day Friday. Earlier than he has been getting up, and told to collect all his things. Steve's wary at first thinking he's getting moved again, but where would he honestly be moved at this point back to the PC wing. That drove him more nuts than being in solitary and talking to the elder Seeger just made him want to punch another wall. After three days in the psych ward of Halawa in his first week he thought better of it. He most definitely does not want to go back there.

Steve's taken out to the initial holding cells and all of his stuff that wasn't actually his but prison property is taken back from him. "Wait here." The friendly guard says.

"Like I'm going to go anywhere else." Steve mutters under his breath. The same guard comes back minutes later with a clear plastic property bag filled with clothes. "Put these on." The guard orders.

Steve barely gets out a what and why before the guard is shutting the door again. Steve realizes the clothes he's been given aren't standard prison issue well they are but not for Halawa. There for the Navy Brig, is he being sent back there. No, he can't be, he won't go. "Hurry up McGarrett I ain't got all day."

Steve puts on the clothes, the boxers, dark denim jeans and plain white t-shirt. He shucks his feet into socks and black converse. He's then led out past the visitors' visitation room and out to the lobby of the building. It's still way early in the morning so that's what Steve'll blame it on, when asked and his reaction being slow.

"Hey there, be ready to blow this joint and never look back." Danny asks, hands in his pockets casually smiling.

Steve's stunned for a minute Danny, his husband of almost three years is standing smiling in front of him. The man he hasn't seen in three weeks hasn't touched, smelt his cologne, or tousled his hair in three weeks is standing mere feet from him. He's dressed similarly to Steve in a black t-shirt, jeans, and his favorite red Chucks, hair coiffed back as usual.

"Well go on McGarrett, hug your man, kiss him or something you're not officially in his custody until you do." The guard says.

That gets Steve moving; he walks over to Danny and practically smashes his lips into the other man's in a searing hot kiss. Man, he's missed those lips and that goofy smile he can feel spreading across Danny's lips.

"Hey babe." Steve greets his husband.

"Hey yourself." Danny greets back.

"Alright McGarrett, time to get outta of here, and you can tell your brother I'm sorry to hear what happened to him, but this'll hopefully keep him out of our four walls now." The nice guard says. Pretty much confirming what Steve's been thinking all this time. His brother did do time and was apparently badass enough to warrant respect from the other inmates. That no one would dare mess with the younger McGarrett at the time. Why nobody messed with him on the inside. Steve still doesn't know what his brother did and maybe he realizes now he doesn't need to, maybe he can let sleeping dogs lie as it were. Maybe he can let his brother have this one secret. God knows Steve has a few, something's he'd rather keep buried under lock and key.

"I'll uh do that thanks." Steve turns to Danny once again. "Come on Danno let's go home."


The two walk out of Halawa's doors to be greeted by none other than Scott himself and Havika.

"Scott! You're, you're out of the hospital!" Steve exclaims surprised. Had it really been that long hell it felt much longer at times.

"Yeah I am on a short-term release anyway I wanted to be here when you got out since I couldn't be there the first time."

"How-how are you here I mean..." Steve trails off still in shock somewhat. His brother is in khaki cargo shorts clearly showing off his covered stump and a New York Rangers hockey jersey and slippahs on his feet er left foot. He seems to be in much higher spirits then when Steve left three weeks ago.

"Come on into the truck with you and you two can talk all you want on the way back." Danny says. Steve watches as Havika lifts Scott effortlessly into the truck and then stows the wheelchair in the back. Steve hops in the other side of the passenger seat of his truck. It's kind of weird being back here he rarely if ever sits in the back. He can ride it out for Scott though.

"You want to know how I'm out of the hospital and how you're out of Halawa so fast. Well they kind of go together and involve an old friend of mine..."

Then it clicks in Steve's head he doesn't know why he hadn't thought of it earlier. How could he forget.

"Brandon."

"Bingo got it in one. We sort of used him and my uh emotionally compromised state to make the DA make a deal with us. No more prison time for you, and I get out of the hospital on a short-term basis to adjust a little to being out before the wake and funeral next week. I need you as- as emotitonal support, that's, that's not a lie. We used that used me as proof to get you out of Halawa for good."

"So, that's it I'm a free man just like that even after what I did."

"You mean obstruct a federal investigation and try and have Jerry hack into my personnel records to find out about my criminal record, yeah what you did." Scott says shaking his head at his older brother. "You know now that I think about it being all those years ago and I've come to peace with what I did. Pretty stupid actually but it was in the moment you know, you could've just asked me Steven. I would've told you. Avoid all the prison mess."

Well not entirely but he didn't need to know yet if ever.

"Well, what did you do Scott? This is me asking you by the way."

Havika is in the shotgun seat in the front staying quiet wondering what his friend will say. Already knowing what he did all those years ago.

"You really want to know?" Scott asks.

"I was in jail for three weeks because of the lengths I went to, to get to know what you did, so yeah you could say I want to know Scottie."

"Alright I'm just making sure and may I preface this by saying in my right mind I'd never do what I did..."

"Which is..." Now Danny wants to know what the younger McGarrett did.

"I assaulted an off-duty police officer."

"You what!?" Danny exclaims swerving the truck to avoid a parked car.

"I as a human being assaulted another who just happened to be an off-duty cop."

"How, why would?" Steve starts.

"I'll explain myself if you'll let me." The truck goes almost eerily quiet. "Thank you, okay long story short it was New Year's Eve, 2009 I was on the beach drunk not in a real festive mood giving what had happened two months prior but I held it together for the kids until I didn't. The officer saw me drunk and stumbling around talking to myself. He tried to get answers out of me, you know the basic ones. I decide it's a smart idea to deck the officer...in front of his recently pregnant wife, well more than deck, deck a few times before he gets through to me and pulls me back to myself."

"You had a dissociative episode." Steve realizes.

"Yeah, I uh did had no clue back then what it was but I did. What was supposed to just be a drunk and disorderly charge and a slap on the wrist turns into me getting booked and processed for aggravated assault against a police officer. Wouldn't have happened that way if the wife hadn't pushed for the officer to press charges. I found out later he was a retired Army Ranger who knew just what I was going through and offered to get me help and everything but instead I wave it off and get stuck with nine months in Halawa to think over what I'd done."

Danny's now just pulling into his and Steve's driveway as Scott's finishing up his story. "Nine months' wait is that where most of the hostility came from, with you and Brooke?" Steve asks.

"Mostly yeah the kids were still young and she had to work still and I was of no help to her. Because I'd gone and done something 'epically stupid' of me according to her but she just didn't doesn't get it never will. The losses we've taken, and then we lost dad that September, you came back for the funeral. I was a mess."

"I knew something was wrong but I had no idea you were in prison at the time. I mean you were in uniform and everything."

"Uh huh I hid it well, I had another week before I got out at that point. I served my time and then moved on. I'm sorry I didn't...didn't tell you not like you could've done anything at the time."

"You, you were the last person to see Dad physically alive before he died. You talked to him, right? He visited in, in there."

"Yeah, he did, tried to get me out of it actually but I told him no. I did the crime I had to serve the time. And I did and moved on like I said."

Havika and Danny at this point have vacated the truck leaving the two brothers to talk.

Steve gives his brother a look. "Okay I moved on from my time in Halawa but not from what that son of bitch Hesse did to Dad. I'm glad those brothers and Wo Fat are dead now."

"Me too bro me too. We're here for each now that's all that matters. And Mary and Joanie are here too, speaking of those two we should probably get inside before whoever's in there has a coronary about us taking so long. Do you need help or should I get Havika?" Steve asks carefully.

"Just get the chair out of the back and spot me yeah. I'm not too sure about the height of the truck."

"Sure of course." Steve goes and gets his brother's wheelchair out the back and sets it up and next to the door as close as he can.

Scott transfers from the seat in the truck to the wheelchair carefully as Steve spots him to make sure he doesn't fall. He can see now Danny and Havika are waiting on the porch for the two of them. He also sees there's a ramp built into the side of the house for Scott.

There's a lot more than just that though but Steve doesn't know that yet. Scott wheels himself easily up the concrete pavement and ramp up to the door, Steve by his side.

Both brothers enter Steve's house and Steve comes face to face with Mary and her daughter Joanie.

"Uncle Steve! You're back." Joanie exclaims happily at seeing her other SuperSEAL uncle.

"I am Joanie bee did you miss me?"

"Uh huh Mommy too."

"You did, did you Mare?"

"Of course, I did you dolt you're my big brother. I'm glad your home now, we all are." Mary says. "Despite the circumstances in which were used to get you out, you know."

"Yeah Stevie, glad you're home. I really missed you." Scott says.

"Yeah he's a real piece of work your brother you know that Smooth Dog." Lane tells the older McGarrett from his spot in the leather arm chair.

"Hey! Just cuz I can't get up and hit you doesn't mean I can't, still hit you." Scott reminds and looks his friend up and down.

"It looks like someone's done some major renovation, why don't you show me Danny."

"We did hope you don't mind Steve." Havika says.

"No no of course not I was planning on renovating anyway well before, you know."

"We get it, and we understand. Why don't we give you a grand tour? Nothing's changed much just made doorways bigger and wider and made the kitchen more accessible." Havika says.

"We also moved Scott's bedroom downstairs like we talked about babe easier for him with no stairs to navigate yet." Danny explains.

"Wow this is amazing you guys even better than I was thinking. Where'd you get the money for all this?" Steve says as he looks around the newly renovated house. Though there are still all the old touches that are there like the old kitchen, made bigger now and has room for a Scott's wheelchair. The whole house is just like Havika said, more accessible for Scott, so he doesn't have to burden anyone with having to help him do things.

"Well, part from a home renovation company that helps severely wounded law enforcement and part uh me. Now before you say anything Steve, I did this because I wanted to. My parents agreed with me. I have all this money that I don't like to flaunt around all the time, and judging by your face you had no idea I was very wealthy. Anyway, I'd help any of my teammates out anyway I could."

"But this, renovating my house is more than just a little help really Havika thank you and thank you to your parents too."

"Will do Steve , my parents are a generous sort of people."

"Hey Stevie come on out here will yah. I wanna show you something." Scott calls out from the lanai with Joanie.

"Yeah Uncle Steve come look."

Steve, Danny and Havika come outside and see Scott standing with forearm crutches with Joanie and Lane standing on either side of him. A few feet away on the grassy part of the lanai.

"You're just full of surprises this morning aren't you bro." Steve says as he walks over to the trio.

"Yeah I'm getting pretty good on these things." Scott crutches over towards his brother. Scott wavers and wobbles a bit on the grass.

"Whoa there think it's time for you to sit back down." Steve says and leads his brother back to his wheelchair.

"Thanks, uh guess I'm still a bit wobbly still get dizzy spells at times."

"I know what we can do Uncle Scott." Joanie calls out.

"Oh, yeah and what's that sweetie?" Scott asks.

"Watch movies that always makes me feel better when I don't feel good."

"Well this is a different kind of not feeling good Joanie. Honey I don't..." Steve starts noticing how his brother is acting already. Sometimes the emotions just hit him straight on and he can't stop them.

"I'd love to Joanie you pick the movie okay I think Uncle Danno's in the living room." Scott says.

"Okay Uncle Scott." Joanie runs back into the house.

Scott looks back up at his brother and at this point he does hate having to look up at his brother this time. "Steve, I'm going to say this once and then I want you to drop it until after everything's past alright. I don't want you to treat me with kid gloves okay like I told Lane as much too. I'm a big boy and I can handle myself. Mostly. I'll admit I'm not a hun-dred percent yet emotionally or physically but I'll get there. Can you please just not act like I'm going to break down every five minutes please...I... can't handle it..."

Scott's eyes are watering up. He can feel the first tear prickle at the corner of his eye.

"Dammit Steve see what you've done got me tearin' up." Scott wipes fiercely at tears in the corner of his right eye. "I hate Wilkes."

Steve's eyes shoot up at that. "You remember him?" Steve asks.

"No, why should I? Who is he?" Scott asks. Clearly Scott doesn't remember who that man is and just said the name randomly.

"No, no you shouldn't he's not a good guy. Now come on, I think there's a niece of ours who wants to watch movies with her favorite Uncles."

"Lead the way Stevie." Scott wheels back into the house after his brother.

That's how the group, Danny, Steve, Scott, Joanie and Mary spend much of the morning watching movies and just relaxing the morning away. Not something the adults got to do a lot of in recent weeks. It feels good to be home out of the hospital even if it's only temporary and Scott hasn't seen his own house yet. He's safe, happy, and content where he is right now. Lane and Havika excuse themselves once Scott and Steve come back inside, and Lane reminds Scott about his medicine, and that he's just right around the corner if he needs him.

"Yes, Mother dear, go I'll be fine don't you have kids of your own to spoil." Scott asks as he shoos his friend out of his brother's house from his spot on the couch where he's got Joanie snuggled up and nestled close to him.

"I do, and what about your kids?"

"I'll surprise them tonight, when I go home. And yes, Steve I will be going home tonight. I want to sleep on my own in my own house tonight for once."

"Understood, just means I have to get all my hugs and smothering in now."

"Ah Joanie, help me save me from Uncle Steve the snuggle monster." Scott calls out to his young niece, and laughter fills the air as Lane leaves the McGarrett-Williams household.

Grace and Charlie are surprised to see both of their Uncles home, when they do get home, but their surprise is overcome pretty quickly. Both are told of the reason their Uncle Scott is home earlier and they understand as best a seventeen-year-old and six-year old can. Well Grace understands more so than Charlie he's just happy to see his Uncle Scott home away from the hospital.

This is just what Steve and Scott both needed to decompress and just be around those that love them and care about them. Before their worlds get turned upside down in a week's time with the funeral of Brandon, Scott's childhood best friend. It's going to be an emotional day for all involved, Scott's just glad he'll have Steve there to lean on this time. The amount of times both of them have done this familiar song and dance it never gets any easier.

The rest of morning bleeds into the afternoon they all spend it the same way they spent the morning watching movies, and then into the early evening is when Scott finally announces he has to go home. Scott goes home to his own house in Ewa Beach. He has Steve drive him over there, and his boys, TJ, Jake, Cooper and David and Wyatt and his wife Brooke are all waiting for him to welcome him home as is Lane, again. Than Scott remembers Lane's ex-wife Laurie and his kids are still in Maui for another week. Scott doesn't blame him for hanging around, if the roles and situations were reversed Scott would be doing the same thing. He's happy to have his friend by his side throughout this whole ordeal.

Scott honestly has no idea what he'd do if he didn't have his partner by his side. Scott just lays back in his bed awake. Brooke sleeps soundly next to him, but Scott no, he's wide awake and just thinking of his blond-haired partner sleeping just down the hall in his guest room. If it hadn't been for him and his selfless donation of a kidney five years ago, Scott wouldn't even be here in this predicament, wouldn't be alive today. He knows there are days long since gone in his past where he knows he should have died, but hadn't. He always came home, came back to his wife and kids. When so many of his fellow SEAL brothers hadn't.

He sometimes thinks why him? Why is he so special? Is he really that much better than the others? No, he's not. They're all equally, squishy fleshly fault worthy humans that all make mistakes from time to time. This time Scott can't help but think he made the ultimate mistake, and his childhood best friend ended up paying the price. He should have had tighter security around the Montgomery house. Hell he should have had visible security, actual people. He had thought that by not having people there it wouldn't draw attention, wouldn't give someone an opening to attack. He was wrong, oh so wrong and now his friend is dead. His friend who was a father, a brother, a son, a husband was dead. He can't stop thinking about it. If he had done just one thing differently maybe Brandon would still be alive right now.

Who knows maybe it would have ended up the same, he doesn't know nobody knows. He knows why he can't sleep, why he's staring unseeing at the ceiling and occasionally over at Brooke. Out of all the people Scott has lost in his life, Brandon is the first civilian casualty. He didn't lose in some IED explosion, or to a suicide bomber, or to unseen injuries after torture in some backwards hellhole of Afghanistan. He was murdered, shot and killed in his own home, because someone wants to make him hurt, hurt like they hurt. He might as well have pulled the trigger himself, that's what it feels like.

It's going to take time for Scott to move on, to learn to deal with this particular death. He learned a long time ago about ten years ago from a friend you don't ever truly get over the death of a friend or loved one nobody can ever tell you to just get over it. You do learn how to live it and how to cope with that loss. This time though Scott has a feeling he'll have a little harder time dealing with this death. Much like how he knows Freddie Hart's death still affects his brother Steve. They'd been roommates and best friends at the Naval Academy, and how he died in North Korea and was left there, Scott had heard the story and couldn't imagine what Steve went through.


He spends the next few days leading up to the funeral, not trying to think of the how's or the whys of his friend's death. Just that he is gone, forever in the land of fallen brothers and comrades. Another one to the ever-growing list. A list that nobody knows about, but him. It's a mental list, but also a physical list he keeps in a small black leather bound notebook, also in his phone's contact list. He has them all in a special group. Fallen, numbers he'll never call again, never get calls from again. Or texts or funny or drunk voicemails at 3 in the morning. He just couldn't get up the courage to delete the numbers. He's even kept voicemails, last voicemails of all the men he's lost. He listened to Brandon's last voicemail just the other day. It was about the father and sons fishing expedition they were supposed to go on before the boys' started back up at school. Now that's not going to happen, a lot of things aren't going to happen now for various reasons, but he can't dwell on that he tries to think of happier times.

That's what he's thinking in the back of his mind the whole week leading up to the funeral, Brandon is the latest addition to that secret and private list. There are always those ones that stick with you the most no matter what and Scott has a feeling that Brandon is going to be one of those ones.


0800 Hours. 12 July 2019, McGarrett Residence, Ewa Beach.

"You ready to go Scott?" Lane asks his friend from the doorway of his friend's bedroom. Lane stands in Navy Dress blues which are actually black in color white cover (hat) tucked under his arm. Black dress shoes shined and looked pristine as ever. Neither man thought they'd be in their dress blues again at least not until they were old, or older and crotchety. Standing by the other ones' gravesite neither knowing who would go first. Again, neither really knew. They were still here and Brandon wasn't.

Scott looks down at his own Navy dress blues uniform, he'd gotten a temporary prosthetic made, just for the occasion, since his permanent one was nowhere near ready. He'd been adamant about not being seated in a wheelchair for this. He would be walking as far as he could walk today for his friend and Brother. He also wanted as little attention on him as possible or as little as there could possibly be, everyone already knowing something had happened to him, he'd gotten questions and like at the wake two days ago, and he'd brushed it off not really answering. That his physical ailments and impairments weren't important at the moment and in his mind, they weren't. They were there for Brandon not him. The next three days would be about Brandon, and mourning, grieving that loss, that they all felt. Some more acutely than others, but it was all felt.

"As ready as I'll ever be, just going over the eu-eulogy in...in my head. And hoping...hoping I don't fuck this up. I can't."

"Don't worry about it we've got you covered Scott. Havi and I have memorized your eulogy."

Scott nods in silent thanks to his friend and partner. He levers himself up off the end of his bed and Lane walks over to pass him the forearm crutches. Walking on crutches is ten times better than being in a wheelchair.


0900 Hours. Brandon Montgomery's Gravesite. National Memorial of the Pacific, Honolulu, HI

One would think some rock star or celebrity died the amount of people that showed up to the funeral. The men Evan and Brianna saw on their flight back from Chicago were there. Her suspicions confirmed they were some of Brandon's old SEAL team.

It reminds Brianna briefly of her twin brother's funeral and the SEAL team he was attached to showed to pay their respects. If there is one thing the Navy got right or one thing she could commend them for it was their solidarity to the Brotherhood. Never had she seen a group of men like the ones she saw at her brother's funeral or the ones here for Montgomery's funeral show such respect and honor to a fallen comrade. Even if Brandon's teammates would never find out his true cause of death, they were still there for him. Even though he didn't die beside them in battle in some far-off desert place they still showed up.

She realized now as she sat a row back from Scott, his family and the Montgomery's that her new family her Ohana took care of its own. She realized that her partner Evan who sat beside her in a black suit, would do anything for her. Any of these men and women on her team would, but not just them, their families as well. It was the spirit of Ohana and treating everyone with Aloha. Everything and everyone was just different in Hawaii, she was finally beginning to realize that.

The service was a beautiful yet sorrowful event. The time and care that went into everything all the proceedings clearly showed. There wasn't a dry eye in the crowd, on that warm July morning. Though you could hardly tell considering all the SEALs past and present, in attendance were all wearing sunglasses and were all clean shaven, taking years off their face. Making them look a lot younger. Some almost unrecognizable only slightly though mannerisms and sheer decorum and military bearing gave them away.

After the chaplain thanked everyone for attending, odd thing to do, but they did. The service is over and that's when people start trickling out back to their cars. Five-0 crew are the first to leave, Steve stopping by with Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery to talk to them quietly for a brief moment. Lou, Tani, Adam, Junior, Chin and Kono leave in pairs, knowing that the bossman and Danny have things in hand, and talk about meeting up for drinks later in the day. Steve and Danny don't confirm or decline drinks at the time and the others understand at the moment.

Brandon's SEAL team had all gathered around Lane and Scott, who now after only standing for an hour and half, was sitting down on a nearby stone bench. Scott had loosely threatened his partner with bodily harm if he brought out the wheelchair he knew Lane had brought along in front of Brandon's teammates. The guys on Brandon's team didn't ask too many questions about Scott's limp; they had known it was a prosthetic and he'd been injured and that was about it. All they needed to know in Scott's opinion.

It feels good to be around Team guys again around familiar faces. They may have been Brandon's team, but a Team guy was a Team guy didn't matter what team or where they were based you were a Brother. Their paths crossed a few times over the years, and reunions were had both down range and stateside. Brandon's friends had all promised to meet up with Lane and Scott for drinks and good times remembering Brandon like any other fallen brother, Havika was invited too of course. Havika declined though stating he didn't know Brandon all that well if at all really.

Brandon's friends just rebuffed that, and told him to come anyway, plus being a Native Hawaiian he had to know some good drinking spots off the beaten tourist path.

"No way you're skipping out on us Kamaka. You're a local you gotta show us to at least one of the best bars on this rock."

Havika makes a big show of thinking about it, already knowing his fate. "Alright I guess I could." Havika smiles bright and wide despite their current location. "Here's my number. I'll text you and time and place, and make sure you have enough money for a cab if you don't want to get a DD." It was clearly understood that they weren't going to get a designated driver, they were all going to get decently respectfully drunk and tell wild stories of a friend that was no longer with them. If decently respectfully drunk was even a thing. Okay yeah, they weren't going to get absolutely college shit faced drunk, just moderately so. At least one of them had to be able to give their address of the hotel they were staying at to the cab driver.

So, time set for later that evening, the six men bid, the three federal agents and fellow brothers' ado to explore the island on their own for a while. As much as everyone always said a service member looked good in their dress uniform, even on an occasion such as this. They all knew it made them itch, get that certain inch of wanting to get out of those uniforms. Neither of the three federal agents blamed the six departing SEALs either. They wanted to do exactly the same. That's exactly what they planned to do.

The other four NCIS agents stood respectful ways away all stood with hands behind their backs. Isaac the only one sitting due to his temporary paralysis issue. Scott is the first to speak once he, Havika and Lane reach their teammates.

"Thank you for coming, you, I..." Scott couldn't find the right words and somehow, they all knew it wasn't his TBI side effects acting up. He was just genuinely choked up with emotion and couldn't find the words to thank them all.

"No need Scott." Kali says easily.

"We know man." Jackson continues.

"You'd do the same for us." Evan replies.

"We got you brother." Isaac remarks evenly looking up at the taller man, now leaning more heavily on his partner. "Literally it seems why don't you take a load off go home change, enjoy your last day before you're stuck in the hospital for the next three months."

"Just take it one step at a time, both of you." Havika tells Isaac and Scott. "We want both of you back to full duty soon. We already miss you."

"Baby steps you two Havi's right." Evan says. "Uh sirs." He adds on as an afterthought.

"Nah it's alight. Ev-an, he's right. Crawl be-fore walk, walk be-fore run." Scott slurs and damnit he'd done excellent with the eulogy didn't even miss a word. Said exactly what he wanted to say word for word. Now it's back to slurring his words again. Maybe it's because he's partly tired and partly thinking too much. Too much emotional overstimulation, too much activity in his brain right now. At least that's what his doctors would say.

"I think I'm gonna go to the aquarium with the kids tomorrow. They've been begging me to go ever since they got back from vacation with their mom." Lane segways into the conversation as they all head off back to their cars.

"That's good I bet they missed hanging out with you." Havika says.

"Oh, yeah Caleb, Eli and Julia can't wait to see me. The teenagers on the other hand I don't know so much." Lane says slowly.

"Ha, Logan and Paige they're eighteen and thirteen respecfuey. They still like hanging out with you. At weast my kids do."

"Paige is a total Daddy's girl Lane you'll be fine. She'll be calling you from college in six years asking for advice still." Havika assures his friend. "I know these things. I have an older teenage daughter. I know brah trust me."

"If you say so oh mighty all seerer of everything teenage girl." Lane laughs, and Scott laughs along with his two friends. The first real laugh in what seems like forever.


1500 Hours. Tripler Army Medical Center, 1st Floor - Chapel

A lone figure a man has his head bowed low in his lap, when Lane enters the chapel at Tripler. An equally lone wheelchair sitting near the row of pews the man is sitting on. Lane doesn't know why it takes him this long to find out where Scott had gone, he'll say he was just giving his friend time and space on his own, but that wasn't it.

He was preparing himself for what he was going to say to Scott. On this occasion this time, he was lost for words he didn't know what to say or do to comfort his partner. Lane now dressed down in a pair of gray cargo shorts, and a green Rip Curl t-shirt and sneakers stops halfway to where Scott is when he hears the other man speak. He knows he's not talking to him. But rather Him the big guy upstairs.

"You should've taken me you hear me. Me, not him, me. He didn't deserve this. They don't deserve this." Scott is saying and looks up at the front of chapel eyebrows knit close together a pained expression on his face. "He was innocent in all this." Scott says quieter almost a whisper.

Lane figures it's safe to approach now and does so walking purposefully down to the middle row of pews where the wheelchair sets and he looks over to his right. Where he sees' his partner sitting. He's wearing dark cargo pants with the right cargo pant leg tucked up and under his stump, and he's wearing a light blue short-sleeve collared shirt.

"There you are Scott, I've been searching half the island for you." Lane says to his friend attempting to joke.

"Oh, yeah like you didn't know where I'd end up where do I always go?" Scott asks rhetorically.

"Can I sit?" Lane asks instead.

"S' a free country sit if you want." Scott offers.

"I'm just glad you haven't locked yourself in your room back home or something equally depressing. You need to be around people at a time like this Scott. We can help you. I'm sure all of Brandon's friends miss him just as much as you do."

"So, you think going out and remembering the good times will help?" Scott asks. Lane's about to answer when Scott continues. "I can't Lane, I can't sit around with those guys Brandon's friends and lie to them, might no-not say it out right, but, but we know wha-what really went down, they don't. I can't face them. I can't do it. Not to them not to Brandon."

"You know Scott I thought it should have been me too, all those years ago in South Africa, when Havika got shot. I thought it should've been me too. He had parents who loved him, a cousin who loved him and wanted to see him come home safe. You and Brandon both have, had families that want the same thing."

"You don't get it though, you've never had someone die on you that was a civilian an innocent person that got caught in the crossfire. Dying in war, getting blown up, shot at, tortured even. That's, that's almost expected in our line of work. He, he didn't even have a chance, a fighting chance. None of us saw that coming. Nobody. It's my fault he's dead. My plan, my plan, should've done more done something different. Should've told Ally how much real danger they were in. Could've, should've moved them to a secondary location, donna bait and switch or somefin'"

"Scott man none of what happened in the last week is your fault. You did what you thought was best at the time. As a leader, you had to make a tough call and you did."

"It was the wrong one and now my best friends' dead because of it. His kids don't have a father, his wife is a widow, his parents lost a son, his brothers lost a brother."

"They did, but you can't put all of that on you." Lane tells Scott and can see how worked up he's getting and that's not good. "You know who's really at fault here?"

Scott turns back to Lane in his seat on the pew, "Who?"

"The man who fired that shot from Steve's gun. He's the sole person responsible. He pulled the trigger, not you, not Steve, him. It may have been Steve's gun, but that man, pulled the trigger. We don't know why exactly other than to hurt you and possibly for a rather large paycheck. But I can promise you this, we will find that S.O.B. and when we do, he's going to pay. That I can promise you."

"You always do find a way to come through."

"Your stinkin' right I do. We're all here for you Scott, remember that." Lane claps his friend on his shoulder lightly. "Now what do you say we head out and enjoy the rest of what today has to offer. I know Brandon would want that. Would want us all to happy, and not mourn his death, you know how he felt."

"Yeah, yeah I do." Scott says softly. "Okay let's go." Scott hops up on his good foot, his left foot, and uses Lane as a crutch to get back over to his wheelchair at the end of the aisle. The two leave the chapel at Tripler feeling slightly lighter and less like they have the weight of world on their shoulders.


2017 Hours. Honolulu Tavern, Dive Bar/Sports Bar, Honolulu, HI

Even though he couldn't drink because of all the medication he was on, Scott was still having a good time. Lane had promised to be the designated driver for himself, Scott and Havika seeing as Lane and Scott had picked up Havika in Scott's truck. He's glad he got his head out of the sand as it were and decided to enjoy his last night of 'freedom' as it were before he was stuck in the rigidity of the hospital schedule for the next few months of his recovery. At least he wouldn't be alone. Isaac would be there, at least for a little while anyway. As soon as the other man's temporary paralysis wore off and he could be up and walking again, he'd be able to go back to work. Isaac was hoping before his daughter and son started school at least. That wasn't looking likely. Isaac was upset about that, but that, but he would adapt and he would overcome this obstacle liked he'd overcome everything else in his life.

The atmosphere of Honolulu Tavern is just what Scott needed apparently to get his mind off of well everything he's been thinking about lately. The stories that Brandon's friends are telling are ones he's pretty damn sure Brandon never told him, himself so he's having quite the laugh. Though he wishes that his friend was there to share in those laughs though. Isn't that the point of these memorial gatherings to raise a glass to a fallen brother and remember all that that one person was and did. Some of the really crazy most embarrassing shit ever.

"No kidding and then what happened?" Scott asks as Derek and Wesley Collins are in the middle of telling a deployment story with Brandon at the center of it.

"He gets the ball away from me right and then he goes crashing into a pallet of empty crates, medical supplies I think they were." Derek says.

"No bro they were empty ammunitions crates." Wesley tells his brother.

"Right right anyway…" Derek drawls on for suspense. "He crashes into the pallet of crates like a bull in China shop."

"We totally think he's knocked himself out but he hasn't he gets back up like it's nothing and he sinks the shot the through the hoop." Wesley concludes.

"That's not the funniest thing though." Derek says.

"No really him falling into a pallet of empty ammunition crates is pretty funny." Scott says he can totally envision his friend doing that.

"Two days later he complains of his ass hurting and itching." Wesley starts. "I say it's just because we've been sitting on our asses too long, we hadn't seen any action in a week, by this point."

"Then he fires, oh yeah well why isn't your itchin' like something fierce."

"We tell him to head to the medical tent to get himself checked out. We all come along of course for 'moral' support. He gets checked over by a very thorough Army medic. She that's right, she tells Brandon to drop his pants."

"Guys I kid you not I've never seen an ass cheek that red and swollen, how none of us saw it before is beyond us."

"What?" Lane asks.

"Yeah I'm with him what'd you find?" Scott asks right hand nursing his third glass of root beer. They've been here an hour and he's on his third glass of root beer. God takin' meds sucks.

"You'll never believe it." The brothers' both say. The four other members of Brandon's team nod in unison grins on their faces.

"Tell us man the suspense is killing us." Havika remarks.

"This guy tough as nails as tough as they come got his pasty white ass stung by a scorpion and he's blubbering like a baby, about it hurting." Darryl Harrison tells the other SEALs.

"Oh man I see why he never told me about that particular story I would've given him so much crap from that." Scott tells the table.

"You so would've too we bet." Darryl comments. "I of course had to be the one to one who drew the short straw and had to put cream on the irritated spot. He couldn't've done it himself."

"Most embarrassing story of that deployment, I tell yah nothing else compares." Derek says.

"Well you know there was this one time in Iraq Scott…" Havika starts.

"Oh, no you're not a starting that story." Scott levels his friend with a glare worthy of Danny Williams.

"But it was hilarious." Lane remembers.

"For you schmucks maybe."

"Oh, we gotta hear this…" Derek asks. "Come on…"

"It all started on a pretty normal day in Baghdad…"

Lane's phone goes off just as Havika is about to start the story to end all stories. "Phew saved by the bell." Scott says. Lane answers his phone.

"Agent Sullivan, it's Sergeant Lukela, the man you've been wanting us to monitor we've located him, if you want to get to him before it's too late you need to leave now. We'll hold him off until you can get here."

"Thanks Duke, shutdown all entry and exit points to all airports, and the docks. Cardoso is not getting off this island."

"Will do Agent. Sending you the location now. See you soon."

"See you." Lane hangs up his phone. He looks around the table. "Sorry to cut this gathering short, but duty calls." Lane says.

"We can call a cab you for you Scott if you want." Derek offers.

"No way, I'm going with my partner and Havika. You've found him haven't you." Scott states.

The other SEALs look at the three SEALs turned federal agents. "We understand duty, go ahead take care of business." Wesley says.

"Not arguing with yah Lane I'm coming with." Scott's already getting up from his seat and pulling money out of his wallet.

"Stubborn as a damn mule you McGarrett men are I swear it. Come on then Scott. You stay in the car you hear me McGarrett." Lane tells his friend a steely gaze settled upon the younger man.

"Understood you're the boss on this one." Scott says seriously.

Havika's putting in calls and texting co-workers and associates setting up a full proof plan. He turns to his two friends readying himself to leave the bar. "Famous last words, anyone…"


Update Coming out Next Friday…Til then my readers.