Chapter six

A/N: If you've recovered from the winter finale, here's another chapter of my story.

I haven't, and the last scene is still haunting me. Working on an episode coda but it will probably take a few more days. In the meantime, let's find out what really happened the night Anthony Morris died.

Steve sped over the slick pavement, taking the Silverado through Honolulu's industrial area.

In the 10-minute ride to the motel, he'd come close to clipping both a delivery van and a cab that had tried to get in his way, earning a few glares and more than a curse word from drivers and unsuspecting pedestrians he'd scared out of their minds.

Car races and heartaches. Just another day in the life.

As he took the Nimitz Highway towards the city's airport, he thought about calling Danny. Not that he needed help. Support, maybe. Or possibly because whenever he was around Steve didn't feel so damn lost and alone.

Danny was his partner and best friend. But Danny had already done so much for him, he reasoned, and didn't need to get involved in another mess.

I'm my own family, he had told his father once, when anger at being sent away was still raw and coursing freely through his veins. To this day he still regretted it, though the truth behind that statement was something he'd lived by for decades. Steve McGarrett could handle himself perfectly well. He could take all the crap the world wanted to throw at him and never break down.

Except...

Hands tight on the steering wheel, he briefly glanced at himself in the rear-view mirror. His hair held track marks from his fingers running through it too many times. His eyes had taken on the flat look of some of the war veterans he'd met during his career, his lips compressed into a bloodless line.

If his sister wasn't already afraid and cowering into an unfamiliar room, he would've probably scared the hell out of her.

The red neon sign of the motel finally came into view and he braked the truck to a stop. Seconds later, he was rapping on the door to her room. "Mary, open up!"

As soon as she saw him, the young woman threw her arms around Steve's neck, enveloping him into a much-needed hug.

"Steve, oh my god... I was so worried about you," she said between sobs, clinging to her sibling as if her life depended on it.

It most certainly did.

"It's all right, Mare. Everything's gonna be okay." He cradled her head in his hand and held her close, wishing his words were true. Offering comfort wasn't his strong suit and watching her suffer tore at him in ways he didn't want to be torn. "How are you, huh? How're you holding up?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Arm around her shoulders, he led her to the queen-size bed that filled up almost the entire space and took a chair out of the small desk nearby, placing it so he could sit directly in front of her. "You're shaking," he said as he sat her down.

"I'm alright."

He almost smiled at her reply. Those damn McGarrett genes were both a blessing and a curse.

"Mary," he whispered. "What'd you do?" It wasn't really a question, but the words were out before he even realized it.

Mary Ann's gaze didn't waver. "I did what I had to."

"Tell me what happened."

She looked down for a moment, as if the shabby, dark-green carpet beneath her feet could offer her the strength she needed.

"Please. It's important."

Take your time, he wanted to add, but he didn't know if they had any. No one knew where they were, or so he thought. What if they found out? He needed the information. And he needed it now.

Mary wiped a few errant tears from her eyes. "Okay."

She drew in a breath and started her story.

"Anthony? What are you doing here?"

At 11:00pm of an uneventful Thursday, her ex-partner was the last person Mary had expected to see. She'd opened the door without too much thinking, expecting it to be Junior bringing Eddie back home or Danny Williams coming to wake her brother up for a case.

It had taken Joan longer than usual to fall asleep and she felt exhausted, so she had come down to the kitchen to drink an infusion and relax before going to bed.

And now here she was, face to face with the man she'd sworn never to let in her life ever again. She narrowed her eyes at him, her inquisitive stare demanding an answer to her question.

"Hey, Mary," Anthony smiled awkwardly. "I, uh... I wanted to see you."

"I told you to stay away from me."

He took a step forward, nearly tripping over the doormat. Even at a distance, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Go away, Anthony." She raised her chin and crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a glimpse of the steely look she'd leveled at him many times during their months together.

"Come on, I just wanna talk to you. It's late and I just traveled for six hours, the least you can do is hear me out!"

"No."

A flood of anger rushed over him. "You can't say no to me!"

"You're drunk."

"I don't have to justify myself to you!" he exploded, his anger growing into a full-blown rage.

"Lower your voice, my daughter is sleeping."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Anthony, please..."

"You don't talk to me like that, you hear me? You don't talk to me like that!"

"Stop it! This is not your house, and I don't take orders from you anymore," she said, jabbing her finger at his chest. "Now lower your voice."

"Let me in. I just wanna talk to you!"

"We've got nothing to say."

"Mary, I'm warning you..." He swayed slightly and reached for the doorframe, holding onto it for support. "Why are you even mad at me? You know I love you."

"Why am I mad at you? Do you even have to ask?"

"I'm sorry, alright, I didn't mean to!"

"I don't wanna hear that. I've been right all along."

Anthony stepped forward, coming through the space between her and the doorframe. "We can still be happy together, you know? You, me and Joanie…"

The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. Never in a million years. She grabbed his arm to let him back out. "Get out of here."

"And that's when you came down," Mary said, her hands still clasped between Steve's strong ones.

Steve swallowed hard. He knew some of the details from Danny but hearing the story from his sister's voice was way more painful than he'd imagined. He stood up, surprised that his legs would support him. Mary pulled him down again and continued. "The minute I saw him there, I realized he'd never leave us alone. No matter how far away I ran, he'd always follow. I was ashamed, and I knew what he did to me would upset you. That's why I sent you away. You've already been through so much, I wanted to protect you."

"Did he hurt you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"No."

"Then why, I mean—" He stood up again, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed to sit.

Mary sighed, struggling to find the right words to finish the story.

"You know what that man needs, right?" Anthony grimaced as he pushed himself off the floor, clutching his stomach and wheezing for air.

"Shut up, Anthony. You don't know the first thing about my brother."

The man wiped his bloodied nose with the back of his hand. "Why'd you let him treat me like that, huh?"

"Because you're a selfish son of a bitch who's never treated me like I deserve!"

"That's not—"

"Please. Spare me your pathetic excuses! I've put up with your crap for too long."

"I'm not leaving you here."

"You don't have a choice! I'm not coming back with you. Not today, not ever!"

"Then we can live here, raise Joanie on the island."

Mary stared at him in disbelief. "Are you seriously that dense? There's no way I'm letting you near me or my daughter again!" As if on cue, the little girl let her presence known. "Mommy?" she called from the upstairs bedroom.

"See, you woke her up, great job!"

"Where the hell are you going?"

"To check on my daughter. You wait here, you hear me? I don't want her to get scared."

Anthony grabbed her by the arm and glared at her. "You're coming with me, Mary. Get used to it. I'm not taking no as an answer." He held her gaze for a long moment, then loosened his grip and pointed upstairs. "Go check on your daughter, do whatever you gotta do but we're leaving this house together."

Climbing the stairs on unsteady legs, Mary Ann turned around to make sure he wasn't following and quickly stepped inside Steve's room. She knew where he kept his service weapon and hoped he hadn't taken it with him when he'd left. Shaky fingers opened the bedside drawer and she sighed in relief when she spotted the SIG P226 still in its holster.

She grabbed it, hiding it under her loose shirt, then made a beeline for her old bedroom where Joanie was still crying and calling her name.

It took a few minutes to reassure her and put her back to sleep. Once the child quieted down, Mary rose shakily from the bed and ran a hand through her hair, bracing herself for what was about to come.

She needed to end this. One way or another, she needed to make sure Anthony would be out of their lives for good.

Her hands closed over the gun and tears welled up in her eyes as she lingered in the doorway and gave her daughter another long look. Then she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and closed the door behind her.

The wooden stairs creaked on her way down and Mary stilled, but Anthony didn't even notice. He had his back to her and seemed to be looking out the window. For one, brief second she wished Steve was back home. He could take this off her hands, find some kind of excuse to arrest him. He was the head of a task force after all. No one would question it. But then she remembered why she had insisted he'd leave, and reasoned that this was her mess and her mess alone. She would face whatever consequence if it meant living her life free from the overwhelming fear that had accompanied her since Anthony had turned from perfect boyfriend to violent stranger.

Adjusting her grip on the SIG, she flicked off the safety and pointed it at the man's back. "Get out of my house."

Anthony turned around at the sound of her voice and his eyes grew wide. "Whoa," he gasped, holding up his hands. "Are you crazy? Put down that gun!"

"I said I'm not coming with you. Not to LA, not anywhere." Mary said flatly, taking a step forward. "Now leave. Leave us alone, and don't ever come back."

"Come on, Mary, you can't give up on us! We were good together..."

"That was a long time ago. Before you showed your true colors."

Up until that moment, Mary Ann didn't know if she was just going to scare him, fire off a warning shot or take him out for good. Then he moved forward, as if daring her to shoot, and suddenly there was nothing else in her mind but the safety of herself and her child.

She raised both arms, aiming to the man's chest.

"You won't shoot me. You don't have the guts to do it." His voice was angry, but she could see the fear in his eyes. "Do you?"

Mary hesitated just enough to commit to mind the terror on his face as he realized she was indeed serious and there was no way out. Then, without a second thought, she squeezed the trigger.

Anthony staggered backward but didn't fall. He opened his mouth, sucked in air and exhaled as he looked down at the blood bubbling out of the wound. He clasped his hands to his chest, then looked at her. "Help me," he moaned. She just stared at him, the gun still in her trembling hands.

Then his knees buckled and he went down.

His last thought before everything went black was for the drive up north in his rental convertible he'd never get to take.

Silence enveloped the room for a moment, along with the smell of gunpowder burning Mary's nostrils. She looked down at the sprawled form that used to be her ex-partner and couldn't feel nothing but relief. Did that make her a criminal? Steve would probably think so, but Steve didn't know what she'd been through, or just how far a parent will go to protect his child.

She crouched down in front of him. Even to her untrained eye it was clear the man was dead. She'd never fired a gun in her life —well, except for that one night in Santa Monica when she'd hit all six of her targets at the Arcade and impressed the hell out of Anthony on their first date— and she had killed a man in cold blood on her first try.

Mindful of her daughter sleeping in her bedroom upstairs, she then used the burner phone she'd bought in LA when she had first thought about leaving Anthony and dialed 911, anonymously alerting HPD about a possible shooting. She knew they'd recognize the address and speed up the response time.

Only when she heard sirens approaching Mary finally grabbed her purse, put Steve's gun in it and headed out the door, disappearing towards the beach.

"I had to do it," she finished, staring into her brother's eyes. "I didn't have a choice. He was never going to leave us alone."

Steve felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Everything became quiet in the room except for their breathing. Or his sister's breathing, because her words had taken his away.

"It was like I had no control, Steve. Like I was watching someone else do it, someone other than me."

As a cop, he knew he should think about the consequences, about the evidence they'd collected against her, but he didn't exactly feel like a cop or a badass Navy SEAL sitting in this dull, anonymous motel room. He felt like a brother, a man trying to come to terms with something that was too big to even begin to process.

"You should've told me, Mare," he managed to croak out as tears welled up in his eyes. "I should've been there for you..."

Mary shook her head. "Not this time. I didn't want you to be involved. I knew you'd try to hurt him and I couldn't let you. You're all I got left, Steve. With dad dead and mom hiding god knows where you're the only one Joanie and I can count on. I didn't want to risk that."

She walked to the bedside table, opened its top drawer and took out Steve's service piece. "I'd rather go to jail than lose you too," she said, handing the gun back to him. "You do what you have to do. Just promise me to take care of Joanie."

"No one's going to jail," he said, caressing her cheek. "Danny told HPD you shot Anthony in self-defense. You just have to stick to this version."

"He did?" Mary couldn't hide the surprise in her tone.

Steve nodded.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

Surprise flashed across his features and he recoiled from her as if burned. "What do you mean you can't? Of course you can."

"I need to do what's right," she insisted. "I broke the law. It's what I deserve."

"No, it's not!" His voice came out sharper and more desperate than he'd intended, but Steve barely noticed it. All he wanted was to shake some sense into his sister. They were offering her a way out, a chance to put all of this behind and live the life she deserved. "Listen to me, I'm not gonna let you ruin your life, ruin Joanie's life, because of that bastard." He framed his hands on both sides of her face. "Love goes both ways, Mare. How am I supposed to live knowing you're sitting behind bars when I could've stopped it from happening?"

Mary pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Steve. I'm really, really sorry..."

"We need you, Mare," he admitted in a shaky voice. "Please let us help you." He didn't know what else to say, and the pain beneath her words tightened his throat too much so he just stood there, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

Mary didn't say anything either, which was probably a first. Steve wasn't good with words, and he especially didn't like talking about or expressing his feelings. What he'd just admitted to her spoke volumes about how much he loved her. How could she say no to that?

She eventually took a deep breath that Steve read as both resignation and assent. "Okay," she whispered a second later.

"Good," he nodded, relieved. "That's good."

As the fog in his brain eventually cleared enough to let him become aware of his surroundings, Steve noticed the red-and-blue lights flashing outside the window.

TBC