…..

Again, you guys hit the goal! My next two goals are 30 favorites and 40 follows.

Well, Kol is gone, which I'm actually kind of sad about because I really liked writing his character. He might be my favorite (yes, even though he's not a main character). I wanted to keep him around, but it would have messed up my plot and we can't have that now, can we?

As always, I wanted to say a big thank you to those of you that have read, reviewed, favorited, or followed this story and/or me. I appreciate each and every one of you and hope that you enjoy this newest chapter.

As a forewarning: There is mention of Catherine in this chapter. The story that you will hear is different from what you've seen happen on the show. Just roll with it, okay? And I'm issuing an advanced apology to McRollins shippers, but I never liked their pairing (please don't hate me).

Happy Reading!

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Chapter Thirteen: Something There

Steve

I pulled away from the airport thinking about everything that Kol had said. In particular, the part about me and Allie. He'd said that he was good at reading people and that it had been obvious to him that there was something different about my relationship with Allie. I would have explained that away by saying that I'd just gotten to know her better and now trusted her much more, but he'd explained it by saying that we should get together.

There were several problems with that. One was that I hadn't known her for that long. Another was that she'd told me that she'd been jumping around from job to job, and I didn't want to get left behind if she decided that she needed a different, more exciting job. And, lastly, I didn't think that I could ever have a fruitful relationship with someone whose real name was a mystery to me.

The last relationship that I had been in had been with Catherine Rollins, a lieutenant with Naval Intelligence. Smart, pretty, and resourceful, she'd been on the radar of many a Navy man that had crossed her path. We'd started as friends, but then it had blossomed into something more that had become something… complicated. We were together and then we would go through periods where it didn't really seem like we were together and then suddenly, we were together again. It had seemed like any time that one of us wanted to define the relationship, life got in the way – either I was deployed on a mission or she was transferred away for a while and wouldn't have an opportunity for leave in months.

I had fallen in love with her easily and had never regretted that, but I did regret not ending the relationship sooner. We would be trekking along just fine and then she would go away for a while and come back for short periods of time… I had finally gotten fed up and told her that I couldn't do it anymore. She hadn't known this, but I had actually bought a ring and had planned to propose to her. But then she'd told me that she was being transferred to the Middle East for a while and that's when I'd told her that I couldn't do it anymore.

I'd told her that I couldn't keep waiting around; if we wanted our relationship to work – really work – then sacrifices needed to be made. I had just joined Five-O and had a much more stable life than being a Navy SEAL had allowed me. I'd told her that we could share that life together – that she could even come be a part of Five-O, if she wanted. Or she could have asked to be permanently stationed at Pearl Harbor.

But instead, she had told me that she couldn't. That she enjoyed her work too much and could never step down from it. She'd said that as much as she loved me, she loved her job more and she'd felt like I felt the same way about my own job. I'd tried to convince her, but she'd simply told me that she needed to get going to catch her flight. And when I'd told her that I wasn't going to wait around for her anymore, she'd merely nodded and said that while she'd always love me, it was for the best to end our relationship.

Allie wasn't necessarily hooked to one job, but she'd admitted that she liked to change jobs and learn new things. If I did end up with her, there would always be the possibility that she would get bored with Five-O and want to move on to something else. And if she left me, I had a feeling that it would hurt even more than it had when Catherine had left, though I wasn't sure why I felt that way.

What I did know was that it would be for the best if I kept my relationship with Allie strictly platonic. I'd enjoyed getting to know her better and I thought that she was a great person and clearly meant for law enforcement, but no good could come out of a relationship with her. We were a lot alike, just as Catherine and I had been. And look at how that had turned out.

As if she'd known I was thinking about her, she called me. I almost wanted to decline the call and give myself space, but I knew that she was in the hospital and I needed to know if there were any updates. "Hey, Allie. I just dropped Kol off at the airport."

"I know," she told me. "He just called me to tell me that he was about to go through security. Hey, um, the doctor said that my scan is clear and since I'm feeling pretty good, he said that I can go home. I was just wondering if you minded giving me a ride home."

It's something you would do for any of the other members of your team, I told myself. "Yeah, of course. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Great. I'll get started on all of this discharge paperwork," she said and hung up.

I adjusted my course and headed for the hospital with a sigh. Why do I feel like this is going to be a bad idea?

Allie

"And remember to take it easy," Dr. Robbins told me in what I'm sure he meant to be a stern tone. Unfortunately for him, I'd been dressed down by commanders and bosses that made him look like some kind of rank amateur. Nonetheless, I nodded and pretended that I was hanging on his every word.

He continued. "There is a risk of post concussive syndrome, so I want you to keep an eye on your symptoms, especially headaches, difficulty concentrating, and vision problems. This is why it's especially important that you get plenty of rest and don't overdo it. I know that you're a very active person, but getting too active after such a serious head injury could cause some problems. I've already written you a note for work."

I made a mental note to toss that as soon as possible. No way was I going to just lounge around the house on bedrest.

"I've also written you a prescription for some painkillers, just in case the headache gets much worse. I'd try to take them with some food. Do you have any other questions for me?"

"No," I told him, refraining from shaking my head. Any sudden movement of my head caused pain that I didn't want to deal with. "Thank you."

"Is someone coming to drive you home?" he asked.

"Yes," I said at the same time as Steve, who had just walked through the door.

"I am," he told the doctor.

"Good," Dr. Robbins said. "She doesn't need to be driving. I told her to take it easy." He handed Steve the small stack of discharge papers. "There's a prescription in there for some painkillers and a note for work. She needs to be resting."

Steve nodded very seriously. "I understand. I'll make sure to remind her."

"Good." With a quick goodbye, Dr. Robbins left to check on his next patient.

"You don't seem too happy that he told me about the note for work," Steve told me with a small, teasing smile. "Were you planning to toss it and pretend that you were cleared?"

"Maybe."

"You were."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "How did you know?"

"Because it's what I would do. Are you really wearing those blood-stained clothes?"

I glanced down at the outfit I'd been wearing when I'd been attacked. "They're all that I have and I didn't have anyone to go to my house and get some."

"I would have gone."

"You don't have a key and you don't know the security code."

"Fair enough." He stepped back to bring in the wheelchair that he'd brought to the door. "Hop on."

I groaned. "I don't need a wheelchair."

"The nurse insisted that you do. I don't think they'll let you leave unless you're in one."

"But I've been discharged!" I knew that I sounded like a whiny brat that wasn't getting the candy that she wanted, but I could hardly care. They'd been telling me what to do for the past few hours and I was sick of it.

Steve was exasperated. "You have a head injury. Just get in the wheelchair, I'll wheel you out to my truck, and then no more wheelchair. Possibly forever. Okay?"

It was a fair deal, but I was still irritated as I stood and eased myself into the chair, wincing as I did.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" he asked me.

"It's really just my head," I told him. "It feels like lead."

He gently turned the chair and began to wheel me out of the room. "Which pharmacy should we get this prescription filled at?"

"I don't take drugs."

"Meth and heroin, no," he said. "But this is just something for the pain. I promise that it's legal."

"It's not a legality issue." I found myself growing more and more irritable as he talked. Why was he arguing with me? "I just don't like to take medicine."

"Like… ever?" he asked me.

My nurse waved at me as we headed for the doors and I waved back. "No. Never."

"Cough syrup?"

"No. It's best to just cough everything up and get it out of there."

"Ibuprofen for headaches?"

"I don't get that many headaches, but no. Did you know that the majority of headaches that Americans get are due to simple issues like caffeine dependency or dehydration?"

"I'm sure you could even give me a statistic," he muttered. "What about when you have a fever? You don't take anything to get it down?"

"No. It's best to let a fever run its course. That's actually what fevers are for."

He rolled me out into the night and headed for wherever his truck was parked. "Have you ever taken medicine?"

"Sure," I told him. "I did occasionally when I was a kid, but not as often as other kids because I hated doctors. I take birth control. But that's it."

He muttered something that sounded like 'that's good to know', but I didn't have the chance to ask him about it because he asked, "Why don't you take medicine?"

"Because I don't need it."

"Sometimes," he told me, "I think you're way too stubborn. Has anybody ever told you that?"

I almost laughed. "I've heard that once or twice, I think."

"Mmm," he said and stopped at the passenger side of his truck. "Here we are."

I didn't want his help, but I found that I had no choice because I got dizzy trying to pull myself up into the passenger seat. Finally, I was settled in and he went back into the hospital to return the wheelchair. Within a few minutes, he was back and we were driving away from the hospital.

"I let the team know how you were doing. They all said to let them know if you need anything."

I wondered when he'd had time to do that, but it took too much effort to think about, so I gave up. "That's nice of them."

"We're a family," he said. "We look out for each other. And you can take them up on that offer; they'd be happy to help."

"I'm not really one to ask for help."

He nodded. "I'm not, either, but sometimes, you need it. No one is going to think less of you for taking it easy for a few days. In fact, it's the best thing you can do. Have you ever had a concussion before?"

I laughed, which hurt my head, but I couldn't help it. "Of course I've had a concussion before. This is my sixth." I paused. "Or seventh… Either way, I've lived through plenty of them."

"Well, then I'm sure you know that you heal faster when you take it easy."

"I don't know," I admitted. "I've never taken it easy after a concussion."

He stopped at the light and glared at me, using his best stern commander voice. "Well, take it easy this time, okay? I need you back to work as soon as possible and I'm not letting you come back until you're medically cleared."

I felt anger flare through my body, heating me. "Seriously?!"

"Seriously." The light turned green and he depressed the gas. "Give it a few days and then go back in for an exam. By then, you should be feeling a lot better. But head injuries aren't something to mess around with. There was a guy that I served with… he was a damn good SEAL. Took a hit to the head one day and didn't think he needed to report it. Didn't think he needed to take it easy. He dropped dead that night."

"Probably from a brain bleed, not a concussion," I pointed out. "They did a scan and I don't have any bleeding in my brain."

"But concussions can do some damage." He obviously wasn't going to give it up. "It's best to just relax and then come back when you're at a hundred percent. Because I don't need you chasing down perps and passing out."

He had a point, but I refused to concede. "I guess I don't really have a choice in the matter."

"No," he agreed. "You don't. When you bring me your medical clearance, you can work again."

Already, plans were circulating and I knew that I could come up with something. "Fine."

"So now you're mad at me?"

"I'm not mad." I pressed my fingers against my temples to ward off the oncoming headache. "It's just irritability. The doctor said that it's normal with concussions."

"Okay."

The rest of the ride passed in silence and when we got to my house, he came around to help me get out of his truck. I hadn't realized the toll that a simple car ride would take on me, but I was exhausted and slightly dizzy.

"Let me help you into the house," he said.

I wanted to protest, but I almost fell after my first step, so I thought that it was probably a good idea. "Okay. Just make sure I don't fall over."

He moved to my side and I felt one of his hands braced against my back, strong and steady. "No problem. Just take it slow."

I really had no choice but to take it slow because I was fighting dizziness every step of the way. I was worn out and needed to lay down and get some sleep. Things would be better when I woke up.

He unlocked the door for me and helped me inside, where I disarmed the security system with my ten-digit code as Gideon looked on stoically. "And I thought my security was tight," he teased me.

I ignored that, because I was spending most of my energy to keep from passing out. "Thank you so much for driving Kol to the airport and bringing me home. I should let you go."

There was suspicion in his voice. "Are you going straight to bed?"

I gestured to the blood stains on my clothes. "I actually need to put these to soak and then I need to hop in the shower and wash this day off of me. And I need to feed Gideon. And then I'll go to bed."

He shook his head and put his hand on my back again, taking my arm with his other hand to lead me forward. "You are going upstairs and you can take a quick rinse, and then you need to get to bed."

"Gideon," I protested as we began climbing the stairs. "And my clothes have to soak."

"Tell me how to do it and I'll do it," he said, helping me more than I wanted him to. "Where's Gideon's food?"

Good. That was something to focus on other than the dizziness and exhaustion. "It's in the pantry. In a clear plastic tub next to the trash can. He gets a full cup. And see if he has water."

"Okay, and how do you soak your clothes?"

"Laundry room is right off the kitchen." I had to force myself to breathe as we tackled the final few steps. "Put stain remover on the stains, rub it in, and then put it in that sink with warm water. It'll soak overnight and I can wash it tomorrow."

"Good. Which one is your bedroom?" We'd finally made it up the stairs, and I never wanted to go down them ever again.

"End of the hall." I pointed.

He helped me there and then watched as I gathered the clothes that I would need to put on after my shower. Then, he guided me towards the bathroom. "I'll wait on the bed, facing away. When you get out of the clothes, just throw them out the door and I'll take them downstairs to get them to soak. Take a quick rinse, put on pajamas, and then you can get in bed. Okay?"

"Very solid tactical plan, Commander," I told him and walked into the bathroom on my own, proud of myself for fighting the dizziness as long as I had. I'd always been determined, but it felt a little bit like a miracle. The day's events had taken so much out of me.

Getting out of my clothes was a challenge, but I managed it and then tossed them outside before closing the bathroom door and hopping into the shower. The warm water felt so good and I just stood there under the stream for several moments before I finally snapped out of it and began to wash my hair, careful around the edges of the bandage.

It was after I had applied body wash that I began to get dizzy.

Maybe I'd better sit down.

I did so carefully and rested my head against the shower wall, ready to just break down and cry.

Steve

She'd been in there for too long. I had already fed Gideon, let him out, and put her clothes in the sink to soak, and she was still in there.

"Allie?" I knocked on the bathroom door and pressed my ear against the door.

"I'm fine," I heard her call back. "I just need a minute."

I paced the room for the next ten minutes until, finally, the door opened and she came out, a hand braced on the wall. Her wet hair had been pulled up into an extraordinarily messy ponytail and the T-shirt she wore was stained, but I thought that it was amazing that she somehow still looked incredibly beautiful.

Not appropriate.

"Here, let me help you." I helped her over towards the bed and she sat down gingerly, wincing just a little bit.

"It feels good to not be moving," she tried to joke, but she just sounded worn out. She had to be beyond exhausted after her day.

Nevertheless, I smiled. "I'm sure it does. Get some rest, okay?"

And as I stood there staring down at her as she stared up at me, something in the air around us shifted. Something that I had never experienced before. It felt almost like a tension, but more… alive. Crackling and popping in the air all around us like static electricity.

"Okay," she finally said, and I shook myself out of the trance and backed away.

"Call me if you need anything," I said and then left, probably a little faster than I should have. After making sure that Gideon was okay, I walked out the door and to my truck.

It was only an hour later, as I laid awake in my bed thinking about the night's events, that I realized that I'd had the perfect opportunity to snoop through her things and hadn't.

Because I no longer felt like I needed to.