Moonlight shone through the windows, offering just enough light for Meg to make out the shapes of the furniture around the room. The house was eerily silent as she slipped out of her bed to use the bathroom. The hairs on her arms prickled, but Meg told herself she was being silly – she'd felt awkward her first night in the hotel room, too. She'd made it a couple of steps when a dark shadow gave Meg only a fraction of a second's notice before warm flesh pressed over her mouth, muffling any attempt at a scream. Something sharp jabbed her neck, and panic rose through her body as her limbs began to feel heavy.

Meg jerked upright in her bed, a scream she didn't recognize as her own filling the previously quiet room. A thud made her jump, and her scream jumped half an octave as she twisted her head toward the door to find Steve standing in the doorway, gun in hand.

"What happened?" he demanded, eyes darting around the room for any sign of danger.

She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to still her pounding heart. Clearly she'd woken the commander, and while still freaked out, Meg now also felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry I woke you," she muttered in a shaky voice.

Seemingly satisfied no immediate threat existed, Steve lowered his firearm. "I'll be right back."

The commander disappeared through the doorway, and Meg willed her heart to slow to a normal pace, ignoring the little voice in her head that reminded her things never went well in horror flicks when one of the characters pulled a 'be right back'. Her dream had felt so real, but Meg reminded herself that it wasn't. She was sitting on her bed at the commander's house, no one was covering her mouth, and nothing was piercing her skin.

She thought back to the last time she'd had a nightmare. Her mother had sat with her, combing gentle fingers through Meg's hair until the girl had fallen back asleep. Meg desperately wished her mom was there to soothe her fears.

The teen rubbed at her face, horrified to realize her cheeks were damp with tears.

McGarrett returned quickly, this time without his gun. "Bad dream?" he guessed, perching on the edge of the bed near Meg's feet.

She shrugged a shoulder, not wanting to make a bigger scene than she already had.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Meg shuddered. She didn't want to spend another second thinking about that dream. "No."

A warm hand rested on Meg's ankle. Her gaze drifted from her leg up to the commander's face. "You're safe here," he reminded her in a tender voice. "Whatever you're running or hiding from, no one is going to hurt you here."

She wished she could believe that. "I'm sorry I woke you," she said, repeating her earlier apology. "I was being a baby…"

Steve's hand gave Meg's ankle a gentle squeeze. "Stop apologizing," he lightly scolded. "I don't care what time of night it is; if you need me, you wake me up. Understood?"

Meg hesitated before giving a small nod.

"Lie down and roll over onto your stomach."

The first part of the command had been expected, but the second part caught Meg off guard and her face scrunched up in a mixture of confusion and unease. She didn't suspect the commander would harm her in any way, regardless of what he'd said, but still…

Hesitantly, Meg lowered her body until her head rested on the pillow. Studying McGarrett another few moments, she slowly shifted until she was stretched out on her stomach, her arms reaching around the pillow to hold it in a loose hug as she turned her head so she could still see the commander out of the corner of her eye.

Steve shifted so he was seated near the teen's hip and began to rub circles on Meg's back.

It wasn't the same as having her mom there, but Meg still found the motion soothing. A soft sigh slipped through her lips as she felt some of the tension leave her body. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy despite her recent fright, but part of Meg still couldn't help feeling guilty and babyish. She'd worked so hard to prove she was older than she was; what he must think of her. "You don't have to do this," she whispered, half hoping he wouldn't hear her so she could at least tell herself she'd tried to object. His hand paused in the middle of her back, though he didn't immediately remove it.

"Do you want me to stop?"

He was giving her the choice – respecting her control over her body. Her brain told her to say 'yes', that she was too old for such babying, but her heart craved the feeling of being cared for. "No," she answered honestly, "but I don't want you to feel obligated."

His hand suddenly disappeared from her back, and for an agonizing moment Meg worried he'd decided it was too much of an imposition, but before unbidden tears could pool in her eyes, Meg felt gentle fingers brush a few stray strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear. "Close your eyes and try to go back to sleep."

Steve shifted his hand back to Meg's back and she obediently closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax a little. She could just make out the sound of the waves through the window, and they provided a gentle lullaby to soothe her into a more peaceful sleep.

When Meg next awoke, she was greeted by sun streaming through the windows. The rest of her slumber had thankfully been uneventful, and Meg felt reasonably refreshed. She was a little surprised to discover she was still on her stomach, but the position wasn't uncomfortable. Extending her arms for a brief stretch, Meg pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to enjoy the view. She wondered whether she'd be able to enjoy that view today – she had no idea what Steve's plans for her were. The teen assumed the commander had to work, but what that meant for her remained to be seen.

Feeling more awake than she had a minute earlier, Meg realized the bathroom was calling. Sliding off of the bed with ease, she walked around the bed to the bathroom door. As she stepped through the doorway, she paused, her eyes on the personal care products lining the counter. A thought occurred to her – she hadn't had her backpack with her when she went to the hospital. Her backpack had remained in the hotel room, so how had McGarrett found out what products she used? Had he managed to pull that off during her nap the previous afternoon? She'd slept less than two hours, and Meg had never found every product she used in one single store. It seemed unlikely that he could have had someone purchase everything and put it in the bathroom while she slept in the adjoining room in such a brief period of time.

Taking care of her business, Meg decided she'd ask Steve about it when she saw him. He'd insisted he'd be honest with her, so here was a good opportunity for him to prove it. Meg wasn't sure how Steve felt about eating breakfast in her pajamas, so she decided to go ahead and get dressed for the day. She selected an outfit she'd purchased her first morning in Hawaii, before her allergy fiasco – a light, sleeveless sundress and a pair of strappy sandals. Playing with her hair for a moment, Meg decided to leave it down, letting it hang down her back. Makeup was tempting, but Meg wasn't sure Steve would let it fly, especially after she'd had to clean it off back in the hospital, so she decided she'd just put on some tinted lip gloss from her purse if she had to leave the house.

Satisfied that she looked presentable, Meg grabbed her cell phone and headed down to the kitchen. Steve was seated on one of the stools at the small table, a cup of coffee in his hand as he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Meg noticed he was also dressed for the day in a dark blue polo and a pair of gray cargo pants. Upon her approach, he lifted his head and offered her a smile. "Good morning, Meg. Did you sleep well?"

She nodded. "Yes, thank you." Meg bit her lip, wondering whether she should go ahead and ask her question or wait for a better time. However, she saw Steve's curious expression, and she realized he knew she had something to say and he was waiting patiently for her. Might as well get it over with now, she decided. "When did you go through my backpack? I didn't have it with me at the hospital, and you couldn't have possibly guessed my shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, and all that other stuff without looking."

"I didn't," Steve said calmly, having anticipated this question sooner or later. It hadn't escaped his notice that the girl was bright, and she didn't seem the type to keep all her thoughts and questions to herself. As she opened her mouth to argue, he held up a hand to signal her to wait. "I found your hotel key card in your purse, and Detective Williams visited your hotel room while you were in the hospital. Before you object, I want to remind you that we were trying to verify your real identity and were looking for any clues that might help us. Everything that was in your backpack before is still there, in case you're concerned he might have taken something."

Meg wanted to grumble over the unfairness of it all, but she somehow thought that would sound ungrateful considering Steve's efforts to make her feel comfortable. "Okay," she sighed, resigned.

Her resignation was met with a smile. "What would you like for breakfast?"

It didn't escape Meg's notice that the commander hadn't asked if she was hungry. She was, of course, but he was making it clear that he expected her to eat something. That wasn't a problem. Meg had noticed over the past few weeks that her appetite had increased. She hadn't eaten her mom out of house and home the way some of her guy classmates seemed to, but she certainly had a healthy appetite and she was unashamed of that fact. Maybe she'd finally start developing some of the curves a lot of her other friends had – Meg was sure she was the only girl in her circle of friends who had yet to experience her first period. Her doctor had insisted there was nothing abnormal about this, especially considering Meg's mother had been a late bloomer, but it still bothered Meg.

"Cereal?" Meg queried hesitantly, as if asking both for permission and if it was even an option. She watched Steve grab several boxes of cereal from the pantry and set them on the table for her to choose. Spying multigrain cheerios, she reached for that box and pulled it closer to her. As the commander searched for dishes and utensils, Meg remembered his words from the day before and grabbed another banana from the counter before walking over to the fridge to retrieve the milk.

Steve's eyes conveyed approval as he set down a bowl, spoon, and paring knife for her use.

Meg wasted little time in filling her bowl with the cereal and piling on slices of banana before pouring a generous serving of milk over the combination. Digging her spoon into the bowl, she lifted a hearty spoonful to her mouth. She made sure to chew and swallow before opening her mouth to speak. "So, when are you going to work?"

"We'll leave in half an hour or so."

She caught the 'we' at once and rolled her eyes slightly as she lifted another spoonful, holding the spoon over the bowl just long enough to say, "I'm capable of managing myself without a babysitter."

Steve's knowing look expressed his amusement over her comment. "Do you really think I'm going to leave you to your own devices? What would stop you from trying to leave off on your own?"

"How am I going to leave when you have my IDs?" countered Meg.

He chuckled, and there was slightest hint of a snort in his laugh. "I might have made it a little more difficult, but you're a smart kid and it would be stupid of me to assume that you couldn't find a way around that obstacle. Whatever you may think of me, Meg, I wasn't born yesterday."

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Meg focused on her breakfast. It was annoying that he could match wits with her, but maybe wherever Five-0 operated would be interesting to explore, if she was granted that shred of freedom. If not, she had a backup plan to occupy her time for at least a few hours.

She didn't take long to finish her cereal, and Meg poured herself a second bowl of cereal, this time just filling the bowl only half way. If Steve thought anything of this as she added some milk, he didn't say anything. Meg finally felt full as she finished her seconds and carried her empty bowl and dirty spoon over to the sink.

"We'll head out as soon as you're ready," Steve told her as he rose to put away the cereal box.

"Five minutes?" she asked. At his nod, she headed back up to her room to brush her teeth and grab her purse and a leather case just big enough to cover a tablet. Feeling a little more optimistic about the opportunity to get out of the house, Meg practically bounced down the stairs, her phone securely tucked inside the purse that hung from her shoulder.

"I'm ready," she announced.

Steve nodded, grabbing his keys in one hand while using the other hand to slip his wallet into one of the pockets in his cargo pants. He already had his badge and firearm. "Do you have an EpiPen in your purse?"

She started to nod, but stilled quickly, realizing she hadn't moved the EpiPen from her backpack to her purse. The two-pack the hospital had provided was in the downstairs medicine cabinet at McGarrett's insistence. "I forgot to put it in my purse," she admitted.

"Meg," Steve scolded with a frown.

The corners of her lips curled downward at the stern tone. She decidedly disliked when he used that tone with her. "I don't normally think about it because it's usually already in my purse," she said in her defense, struggling to keep any hint of a whine out of her voice.

He folded his arms over his chest. "So why wasn't it already in your purse?"

"This isn't my regular purse."

Steve supposed it didn't seem odd that a teenage girl might have more than one purse. Women did seem to like their accessories. However, the comment implied that this purse wasn't used frequently. "Where is your regular purse?"

"At home."

That was an interesting tidbit of information. It made Steve suspect the girl hadn't been on the run for very long. He wondered why she was using a different purse from the one she usually carried. "When was the last time you were home?" he slipped in casually, wondering if she'd actually answer the question.

"No."

Well, that answered that. Her guard was clearly still up. Tucking away what he'd learned for later, Steve nodded toward the stairs. "Go get your EpiPen and put it in your purse right now. You will make sure you have it on you at all times."

She wanted to roll her eyes, but it would be kind of ridiculous of her considering having an EpiPen on hand wherever she went was kind of a life or death matter for Meg. Instead, she complied with the commander's instructions, and five minutes later they were in his truck and on the road.

When they stepped through the entrance to Five-0 Headquarters, Meg was a little in awe. It was so much nicer than what she would've expected from a law enforcement agency, from the shiny black floors to the slate gray walls to the warm red-brown molding and paneling encasing comfortably-sized and furnished offices. The space was open, aside from the individual offices, and there were several monitors hanging on the walls and from the ceilings.

"Nice to see you again, Meg," a familiar voice greeted, and Meg shifted her gaze until she spied Danny.

"Hi Detective Williams."

"How are you doing? Is McGarrett treating you okay? He can be a bit of an idiot sometimes, but he's a good guy overall."

Meg wasn't sure what reaction to that comment she should expect from Steve, but he just shook his head in amusement. "Thank you for the glowing recommendation, Danno."

They almost sounded like a married couple, Meg mused, but she was pretty sure there wasn't an ounce of romantic feelings between the two. She figured they must've been working together for a while. "I'm good, thank you," she assured him. "Other than the fact that Commander McGarrett seems to think I'm ten, it's been fine."

Steve arched an eyebrow at Meg, but she could still see the amusement shining in his eyes that told her he wasn't really upset with her. Detective Williams, meanwhile, was fighting hard not to laugh out loud. "Ten, huh?"

"No one thinks you're ten," Steve said mildly, "but I hope you're not going to try to claim you're eighteen, either." Meg's only response was a light scowl. "What do you think, Danny?"

Glancing from Steve to Danny, Meg noticed the detective studying her face. "Hmm. She looks a lot younger today without the makeup. She's definitely younger than Grace. Thirteen… fourteen, maybe."

With a small huff, Meg crossed her arms over her chest; even with the padded bra she wore, there wasn't much there. "I'm right here…"

"You know," Steve pointed out casually, "if you told us your actual age, you wouldn't have to put up with us trying to guess. What do you say?"

She glared half-heartedly. "No."

"Okay then. Come on, let's get you settled in my office."

Meg followed the commander into a corner office, quietly taking in her surroundings. A large desk dominated one corner of the room. Two plush armchairs had been placed in front of the desk, while an executive desk chair was situated behind the desk. A loveseat sat against the wall to the right of the desk. All of the seating was covered in black leather and appeared to be comfortable.

Flags, medals, certificates, maps, and other items adorned the walls. It seemed very much like an office Meg would expect of a naval officer. A monitor or TV, Meg wasn't sure which, was attached to the wall to the left of the desk. Large windows along two walls of the office allowed a nice view of the common areas, though also equipped with horizontal blinds that could provide privacy if needed.

Meg gently lowered herself onto the loveseat, and was pleased to discover it was indeed comfortable. Setting her purse beside her on the cushion, she unlatched the tablet case and flipped back the cover to reveal a shiny, new iPad.

"Where did that come from?"

She glanced up at the commander after entering her code. "This?" she asked, holding up her iPad. "I had it in my backpack."

Holding out his hand, palm up, Steve curled and uncurled his fingers in unison, indicating he wanted Meg to give him the tablet. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but Meg complied, gently placing her iPad in the commander's hand.

She watched him slide a finger across the screen and open an app, though she couldn't see which app he was opening. Whatever he was looking for he didn't find as he looked back up at her with a confused expression. "This iPad is attached to an account for Mary Andrews."

Meg waited for him to continue, but when he didn't it was clear he expected an explanation. She could only guess at his suspicions. "It's not stolen, if that's what you're worried about; it was purchased legally and given to me as a gift. I had it before I came to Hawaii."

"But it's registered to Mary Andrews."

"That's the name on my ID," she pointed out lightly.

"One of your IDs," corrected Steve. "If what you're telling me is true, you have to have had that ID for a while."

Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I agreed to be honest."

Steve gave a short nod. "You did, but can you understand why I'm confused? You had five different quality IDs that wouldn't have caused me a second glance had I not been specifically searching for a record of you. You've admitted you have a bank account attached to at least one of those identities, and you claim the money in that account is legitimate and legal. You have an iPad that barely looks used attached to this same account, which I know is a cover of some sort. You're not old enough to be an operative for the CIA or some other clandestine service, though a cover like that would stand up to further scrutiny. I can tell you're smart, Meg, but I don't for a second believe you orchestrated all of this on your own."

"You're welcome to look through the iPad if you want. There's nothing sketchy on there. I have a few games and that's pretty much it."

Focusing back on the iPad, Steve shuffled to the main app screen. As Meg had claimed, she had the basics and a few games. He clicked on a social media app only to discover it hadn't been connected to an account. The browser search history was clear, and any games were connected to the iPad account or didn't require an account.

There was no evidence of Meg's real identity that Steve could see. He raised surprised eyes to meet Meg's expectant gaze.

"If you've decided my iPad is clean, may I please have it back?" she asked politely. "I figured I'd use it to keep myself occupied while I'm here."

His face made it clear that he didn't want to give back the device, but Meg knew there was nothing to find on there, and after a moment Steve reluctantly held out the tablet to the girl. She had been right about the tablet possibly keeping her occupied, and he didn't think a bored teenager would be in anyone's best interests. "I'm going to be keeping an eye on what you're doing on there," he warned her as she reclaimed her device.

"Okay," she agreed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a pair of ear buds. Pugging the cord into the tablet, she situated the ear buds in her ear and tapped an app that would allow her to listen to music.

"Before you start listening to music, I want you to know that I'll be just outside this office or in Detective Williams' office next door if you need me. There's a mini-fridge in here with bottled water and soda if you're thirsty. The beer is off limits."

She raised an amused brow. "Is that legal for law enforcement officers to be drinking while on the job and on government property?"

"The restrooms are past the offices, just around the corner," he continued, ignoring her question. You need to let either Detective Williams or me know before you go so we know where you are."

"Got it," Meg confirmed.

At least 80% confident Meg would behave herself, Steve walked out of the office, closing the door behind him. Meg watched his retreat as music began to float into her ears. She had a pretty decent view of the main area, and she could see each both men's profiles as they struck up a conversation she was certain she wouldn't be privy to. Pausing the current song on her iPad, Meg watched Steve and Danny's faces with intent. Depending on the conversation and how quickly people were speaking, she could read lips more often than not, and she was curious what they might be discussing and whether it had anything to do with her. Meg didn't want them to know what she was up to, though, so she slipped of her sandals and pulled her feet onto the cushion so her knees were pulled closer to her chest. The skirt of her dress was flowy enough that it covered her knees and legs down to her ankle, so she was fairly certain no one could see anything they shouldn't. Resting her iPad on her knees, Meg opened up the camera and zoomed in so she'd be able to see their faces better. Pretending she was reading something on the iPad, Meg moved gently to the now nonexistent music as she focused on the conversation outside the commander's office.