Hi guys. I hope you are enjoying the story. I am keen to finish off the last few chapters to show Steve's recovery and return to his "new normal". Your comments really keep me engaged with the writing and keen to finish.

Trigger warning on this chapter - it contains a discussion regarding military deployments and PTSD.

Apart from the physical and occupational therapy which Steve had thrown himself into completely- there was also the mandatory meetings with the psych and group counseling sessions. Unsurprisingly Steve hated them.

It wasn't that he hated the psych, Lieutenant Commander Apted seemed like a nice guy. Straight talking and invested in his patients. He just hated sharing and talking about things he normally kept bottled inside. Sure it wasn't healthy but it had worked so far. Talking about them only made him have to feel them again.

He had always considered himself to be mentally resilient. SEALs had been heavily into "battle inoculations" and mental preparedness and he had never had more than the usual trouble adjusting post deployment or mission. We maybe after the first trip to Mali, or North Korea both times but he always thought of that as just part and parcel. He would just find something else to be busy with it and try to act as normally as he could. Then there was always sleeping tablets for the insomnia and a mid night run to exhaust out the nightmares. His whole team was that way.

But after the first three weeks of counseling he was starting to revisit how he felt after each deployment. After having listened to the other service men and women discussing their experiences, may of whom were injured in combat, in group sessions, often he would be struck by a sudden rush of adrenaline or fear as his previous experiences flashed through his memory. As his pulse quickened his mouth would go dry and his airway would constrict only letting small panting breaths, feeling like he was about to be sick. Memories of seeing friends CASEVACed or killed, not knowing where the enemy was when they were being shot at in a compound, IEDs blasting their armoured vehicles off the road and the near constant indirect fire over their FOB at nights. Then as he was closing his eyes in the evening when he was alone, he would be back in a pitch black ocean, respirator failing and choking on no air but no idea which way was up or down. It only lasted for a few minutes, but sometime the nurses would have to wake him out of it, pulling Steve back up from the black inky depths back to his hospital bed.

He never shared these experiences in group but a few private sessions in he discussed the flashbacks with LCDR Apted. Sitting in his arm chair across from Steve, the psych smiled kindly and nodded. It was normal, he explained, for the brain to revisit previous traumatic events after an injury also caused by trauma. He asked Steve about he previous experiences with hyper vigilance, nightmares and period of feeling withdrawn or alone. After Mali was the worst, they had lost two men and the rest were luck to get out. It has been Steve's first experience of what a psych would call PTSD. But normal in the sense that it only lasted about two months after he got home. North Korea, both times, was the same. Then there would be brief occurrences even with the team, but he always brushed them off.

LCDR Apted explained that for some people exposure to trauma and constantly high adrenaline levels can leave a permanent effect, but it depends on exposures. His accident had triggered another spike which was why the same symptoms were coming back. He offered to prescribe Steve some anti-anxiety med, the doctor knowing full well that he was unlikely to take them. The panic attacks, insomnia and anxiety was likely to hand around while Steve was adjusting. He hated the term "anxiety" it made him feel weak, he wasn't going to to let it get a hold of him and he wasn't going to let the Five-0 team know. He could get though this, just like everything else.

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It had been four weeks since Steve had arrived at Tripler. His OT wanted him to have a trip out to a restaurant to start navigating how to use his chair in public.

For his first dinner out of Tripler the team were all in. They picked a small local place near by which by the water near Pearl Harbour, Danny had arranged for a table on the lanai. It would have been nearly 7 weeks now since the accident, 7 weeks since Steve had seen the ocean he loved so much.

Half an hour before Danny was due to pick Steve up he was stressing like a teenager before a date. He dug through his dresser for his favourite dark blue t-shirt quickly pulling it on, then transferred onto the bed to change into his favourite dark grey 5:11 kakis. He rolled side to side struggling to pull on the slim cut pants, his legs were not cooperating with the process. By the time he transferred back into his chair to make sure he had everything Danny was going to be outside in ten minutes.

He knew the stress and rush was all in his head, he felt nervous heading out for the first time. More nervous than he felt previously kicking in a door to a hostage situation. He was flustered, misplacing his wallet which he had already stowed in the side pocket of his pants, and dropping his phone twice. The normally composed SEAL closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths and tried to center himself, calming his quick heart rate.

It was just dinner with the team he told himself. Nothing to be concerned about. Then why was he still feeling to nervous? He hated feeling so out of control like this. Just as he was taking in a few more deep breaths, Danny texted. "I am out the front babe x". Steve headed for the pick up heart still racing.