Hello, all. While I don't have much written going forward, I realise it was cruel of me to leave you all with a cliffhanger, so here's the explanation of what happened to Cath. Will publish more as I manage to write.

THANK YOU all for your reviews! It's wonderful to receive them and realise you are enjoying this story! Keep 'em coming ;-)

Facing Truths

The moment she says Catherine's name, Doris eyes Steve attentively, wondering how much this woman still means to her son. It had naturally not escaped her notice the way they had interacted, when she'd last seen them together, in Rabat; Doris had let them say their goodbyes in private, but had been discreetly curious as to what they were saying to each other. More importantly, she'd tried to understand what was going on between her son and the woman she thought he loved. Their parting had been amicable to the extreme, but she'd been left intrigued by their body language. So, as soon as she'd entered the plane, she'd sought a seat by the window, like a voyeur, and had had front row seats to their goodbye - Catherine's hesitation in telling him something, once she'd stopped moving towards the airstairs; the obvious unwelcome revelation she'd blurted out and his reaction, so typical of Steve, of slight embarrassment in asking and then trying to disguise the disappointment the answer had brought him. Oh, yes, that much was clear – he'd been heartbroken by whatever it was she'd told him and he hadn't tried to disguise it. The way he had lingered, hand paused on the door, as though trying to decide whether he wanted to cast a spell to keep her safe or pry it open and extract her from within. The expression on his face, of pure sadness, of opportunities lost, of time lost, of something lost – something important, something irretrievable, something impossible to get at, unless she provided it. After Doris' painful heart-to-heart, Catherine had come and compounded that sadness with some more truths of her own. That much she'd been able to tell. The fact that Catherine had sought a discreet corner of the plane, away from her prying eyes, had spoken even louder, but had she been in any doubt, the sobs she'd heard coming from her seat had been a dead giveaway.

Doris is brought back to the present moment when she hears Steve almost yell a "what about Catherine, mom?" at her, eyes wide, nostrils flaring, daring her to give him the bad news. Suddenly, he gets up, pacing like a maniac, not wanting to listen to what she may have to tell him, panic rising within, the kind only Catherine can make him feel. NO, not Catherine. Not her. He's dealt with everybody else's death, but he won't be able to deal with hers. He closes his eyes, attacked by a sudden throbbing headache that instantly makes him feel nauseated. Suddenly, the floor starts moving under his feet, so he plops down on the couch, eyes closed, trying to find his bearings, all thoughts of irony and anger towards Doris now gone. Eddie looks up from his corner, raises his head and looks attentively at Steve, sensing all is not well between these two humans.

"I picked up some chatter on the grapevine, two days ago. About an operative who had been captured by the Taliban, some Agency op gone wrong. Nobody knew anything specific about it, or what had happened, so I put it to the back of my mind. This afternoon, I got a call from an operative friend of mine, who knows I know Catherine personally. She was the operative captured by the Taliban, Steve, apparently she missed her extraction, and no one knows anything. Where she was taken, where she is now, no word", Doris finishes, her heart aching for her son.

Steve goes completely still, another rush of adrenaline hitting his insides and leaving them on fire, breathing deep to try to control himself, '6 in-and-outs, control your breathing, don't panic'. Afghanistan, again! His heart starts to beat furiously in his chest and he can feel his clammy, cold hands close into a fist. His breathing turns quick and shallow and he feels tears spring to his eyes as he gets up and starts pacing the living room floor again, furiously.

"When?" he asks through gritted teeth, barely containing his anger. He knows it's not fair, but he can't help himself. Maybe… maybe if he can treat this as just another Navy op, his mother won't see that he's about to break down completely. He needs to keep his head above his shoulders if he's to help Catherine. But the bombs keep on coming.

"Four and a half months ago", Doris says, slowly, fully aware of how this sentence will affect her son. She once again lets her mind wander back to that memorable plane ride out of Morocco. She'd seen the tears in Catherine's eyes after the sobs, as the younger woman had walked past her to the toilet, but since Catherine had decided not to share, she had, in turn, decided not to prod her for the truth that was plainly evident and with it, preserve her dignity.

"Four… WHAT?" And he turns in her direction, ready to charge, not believing his ears. "She was captured FOUR and a half months ago? And what have your people done to get her back?" The tone in his voice is of pure disdain for the CIA, but he's past caring, at this point.

Doris ignores it. "I have no idea, son. I don't know what they're trying to do to get her back, I'm not even supposed to know she's gone missing, it was a covert op, so only she and her handler knew what it was. I don't have a clue where she might be. All my friend could find out is that she was probably on a mission in Afghanistan, to capture some terrorist that planted bombs on US soil. That's all."

"Shindand," Steve offers, despondent. The guilt he feels right at this moment is monumental, as he was the one to request Navy assistance to capture Al-Nazri, and the Navy had, in turn, turned to the CIA, the hateful CIA, for help. He wishes he could just erase the damned spooks from existence! And how is it that he's always the one to know where the most important women in his life are, when they are captured by seriously bad people and need rescuing?

"How do you..?" Doris asks, truly dumbfounded. But she soon realises it doesn't matter, because she knows that she must tell her son something, and it's breaking her heart having to do it. "Steve… they don't even know if she's still alive," she finishes, eyes rimmed with tears, feeling helpless and angry. She admires Catherine for the independent and brave woman she is, but most of all, for having loved her son. Actually, for loving him still, she suspects.

He closes his eyes, trying to shut her and her words out. She has to be alive. She has to. She's the love of his life and they deserve their happy ending. The desperation Steve feels, right at this moment, is unlike anything he's ever felt before. His mother's death had happened when he was too young to understand how things would change, from that moment on. Freddie's had been painful and the loss of a brother, but within the context of war, they always knew it could happen. His father had always danced with the phantom devils created by his wife, and the moment they had materialised, he'd suffered the consequences of it, too. Even Joe… Joe had lived a full life, and they all had long sins that cast very long shadows. But Catherine…. Catherine is pure, Catherine is unpolluted. Catherine hasn't yet lived the life she was meant to live, hasn't realised she was wrong in leaving him and come back, hasn't yet come to her senses, after going out into the big, bad world and tried to make it a little bit less bad. No, not her - God can't be this cruel.

Suddenly, the penny drops. The missed calls. The never having received a call in return. The texts that went without answer. Her parents kept in the dark. All this time, he had resented her for not keeping in touch, for not getting back to him, for not wanting him, for not loving him enough, and all the while... Suddenly, he feels like he's been sucker punched, again. While he was living comfortably in paradise, surrounded by his Ohana, she was... missing? In enemy hands? Being tortured? The thought brings such a strong, sudden feeling of nausea to his stomach, again, he actually shivers, thinking about her. 'Where are you, Cath? Where? Are you still...' he can't bring himself to even conclude his thought. If he goes down this path, desperation will take hold of him and he can't afford that, right now. Time is of the essence and without Joe's help... another pang of hurt strikes at him, the successive adrenaline jolts making him electric. Without Joe's help he'll have to rely on his mother. But at this point, he doesn't care if getting Catherine back home safe means making a deal with the devil himself. He'll do anything, whatever it takes. Knock on all the doors he knows, pester everyone he thinks may be able to help, beg, borrow or steal. He'll go to the ends of the earth to find her, even if it kills him. She's his saving grace, his last chance of happiness, his best friend, the only lover he's ever wanted.

"Mom, please don't say that again, OK? I'm a grown man, I know what 'being captured by the Taliban means', but if I'm to help Catherine, I can't be bathed in fear and wallowing in my own misery. I need to put those thoughts to the back of my mind and come up with a plan."

"OK, let's come up with a plan. Let's call everyone we know, let's put our resources together and go find her."

Steve looks at his mother in surprise, voice strained, almost pleading. "No, you're not coming. I can't face the thought of losing you too, again."

He looks so lost and vulnerable, like a small boy, that Doris' reaction is to hug him tight and not let go. She's trying to tell him so much with that gesture, and while, at first, he fights her, after a few seconds she can feel him shaking in her arms, crying quietly, and they stay in that embrace until Steve composes himself.

"If you tell anyone I cried in your arms, I'll deny it," Steve says, trying to clear the heavy air between them.

Doris wipes a lone tear from her son's face, physically the closest she's been to him in decades, and smiles condescendingly. "No one would ever believe me, anyway. But it's nice to know that you're human like the rest of us, after all."

"Mom, what are we going to do? I can't sit around and not do anything. We need to find out where she is."

"We will, Steve, I promise you. We'll look under every rock and pry every spook for information. We'll find her."

And suddenly, he feels like 5-year old Steve riding his bike, safely led by his mom, faith in her momentarily restored.