What We Bury

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

A/N: This is a shorter chapter but I figured since tonight is a special night no one would notice. Thanks to everyone who took time to write me and mark this story on alerts. You guys are awesome and as a reward I arranged for CBS to finally air the season premiere. It wasn't easy, but you all are worth it. Feel free to tell me how you felt about it, oh and you can mention the story, too. PS. Some kind reviewer mentioned that I might want to put a slight spoiler alert on this story because I reference characters that will be introduced in Season 2. I apologize for not doing this earlier, though the mention of said characters is very small in passing. I sincerely hope no one was spoiled.

RCJ

"There are things we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go."-

Rich Murray stepped into the room, pulling a gun which he promptly aimed at Steve's head. Steve tensed, his hypothalamus doing its job to spur adrenal glands into action. The body's ability to transform dopamine into adrenaline was a beautiful thing if one was experienced in controlling the effect, able to harness and use the surge of power for an advantage and not succumb to the debilitating effects that could render a person helpless. That's where military training and the experiences of a cop came in to play. Steve expected the momentary paralyzing freeze, the rapid increase in heart rate, the sudden dizziness as blood rushed to areas most needed for fight or flight. He steeled himself, easily finding his composure and his voice, the sound razor-edged despite his low timbre.

"How the hell did you get in here, Murray?"

"Stay where you are and put your hands where I can see them." Murray closed the door, keeping the weapon trained on Steve. His thinning gray hair was darker than what it had been when Steve had seen him in court, a mustache and beard covering a face that had then been clean shaven weeks ago. He was dressed in khaki pants, a well-worn Hawaiian print shirt layered with a light jacket emblazoned with the mascot from one of the local schools. It was a good choice of disguise, completely ambiguous.

Despite Steve's body's well-practiced use of stress hormones, he had no time to put the adrenaline to good use and react. Grace sleeping soundly in his arms kept him from reaching for the weapon that should have been at his side, but was missing because of his dismissal from duty. He had no choice but to do as Murray ordered, lifting the hand he had resting on Danny's chest, the other he kept tightly wrapped around Grace. "Surely you know what a stupid move this is on your part."

"I know I made it in this room without anyone so much as noticing me. Your team passed me in the parking lot on their way out. The old man that's been holding court in here nearly collided with me in his hurry to get into the chapel. As a security consultant I have to say this is a shoddy set-up. I expected more from Hawaii's finest. It's no wonder people turn to the private sector these days."

Steve felt the heaviness of Grace against his chest anew, the heat of Danny pressing along his side painful for different reasons now. He had sent his only backup away for dinner. No nurse would check in unless called for, Danny's doomed condition warranting little more than monitoring and the routine change of IV's at this point. Who knew how long Liam might stay to bargain with God? Steve had let the turmoil of his emotions overrun his instincts, placing them all in danger. He should have known better. "What do you want, Murray?"

"What do you think I want, Commander?"

"I think you want the hurting to stop." Steve damn well knew he did. It was what drove him to hunt Wo Fat for the last two years, what fired his current desire to leap from the bed and tear Murray limb from limb. Instead, he tried to conjure some feeling of empathy, some shred of common decency he was sure Danny would have easily been able to pull out of his 'good cop' repertoire to talk the suspect down. Weeks ago when he had felt nothing but remorse and guilt when he thought of Rich Murray it would have been easy, but now it sounded false and hollow to even his ears. All those regrets were buried beneath the primal instinct to protect, to destroy what had hurt his partner, was now threatening what was left of his family.

"I buried my daughter!" Murray stepped closer to the bed, his hand shaking ever so slightly. His dark eyes sparked with an intensity Steve had witnessed in hostage situations and from distraught loved ones of those slain in battle. Crazy could so easily be just another shade of grief. Murray was completely over that fine line.

Steve sat forward, blocking more of Danny's body, clutching Grace closer. She stirred in his arms at the sudden movement and Murray's raised voice, mumbling in her sleep. Danno came out in a warm breath like a soft caress against Steve's cheek, and he felt something more familiar to him than the adrenaline stir deep within his body.

"There is no end to that kind of pain," Murray growled, reclaiming some of his composure. "You should have started to figure that out by now."

"I can make it stop. Just give me the gun." Steve knew only one sure way to end Murray's suffering and the threat to the people he loved. The wolf was back, face to face with a predator no longer given the advantage of anonymity and higher ground. "We can make this better for everyone."

"Your true nature is showing through, McGarrett."Murray shifted the gun to Grace and Danny, his hand steady once more, telling of his experience and ease. "You might look like a broken man, out of uniform, haggard face and that sweet little girl sleeping in your arms, but I know what you are-same as I knew the day when that fancy lawyer called you to the stand. The suit and the attempt at sincere regret didn't fool me for a second. I recognized you right away-a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"It takes one to know one." Steve took his eyes off Murray's hands long enough to glance at Grace. He kept his voice lowered, praying she wouldn't wake up. "I'm going to put her down now and we can take this out of here where no more civilians can be needlessly hurt. They're not part of this-never should have been."

"Just like my daughter never should have been a part of your bust." Murray swung the gun to point at Steve's head once more.

"That was an accident and you know it. Gracie is innocent like your daughter."

"You brought her here." Murray shook his head, clearly agitated. "It's your fault she's involved in this mess. She should be home with her mother."

Steve stood slowly, carefully placing Grace in the spot he vacated. He rested his hand on her head when her eyes fluttered, finding his face, but not really focusing. Steve held his breath waiting until she turned and curled into Danny with a deep sigh before facing Murray once more.

"She's Danny's daughter. She belongs with him." He lowered his hands to his side, but took a step closer to Murray. "Did you know you were going to leave a little girl fatherless when you took that shot?"

"I knew someone had to pay. That's all I cared about."

"Why Danny? He wasn't involved in the shooting." Steve knew the answer, understood all too well why Murray had shot Danny, but his best option was to keep the man talking, wait for any distraction that might present itself.

"You mean why not that wet behind the ears kid, Officer Keanu-the one who put the bullet in my daughter?" Murray arched a brow." We both know the grunts are just following orders. It's the brass that have blood on their hands."

"Then you should have shot me." Steve had wished for that every day since that morning in front of the Palace.

"And let you have a quick, clean end?" Murray shook his head, his eyes watering. "Where's the justice in that, Lieutenant Commander?"

"You call what you did justice?"

"As close as it comes in this life." Rich Murray waved the gun at Danny and Steve inched sideways, his heart hammering against his sternum. "I researched you, found out quickly there wasn't a lot of choices when it came to making you understand what you had cost me. No wife, no children. You have a sister, but she lives in the states and from what I dug up you're not that close, but then there was your partner. Something about a man's partner, the person you count on to keep you alive. It can become as strong as any bond, nearly as close as that of a parent and child because you feel so completely responsible for each other. It only took tailing you two a few nights to figure out who Steve McGarrett would grieve for the most. I waited, was going to take you out at his funeral after I watched you hurt, but that day didn't come."

Steve swallowed hard, holding back the fury insisting he just take out Murray, consequences be damned. He wasn't concerned for himself, but what could happen to Grace and Danny. He swore he heard his partner's voice in his head reminding him of what became of all the delicate china in the shop when a rampaging bull got loose. "You still got what you wanted, Murray. Danny's gone, just enough of him here to keep the wound open-both of our suffering prolonged. It went even better than you planned."

"My first shot would have been a kill shot, but he moved in just the right moment." Rich snorted. "Ironic that such a misstep on my daughter's part got her killed, don't you think."

"I think there are unpredictable occurrences that even the most thought out strategies can't account for."

"Spoken like a true officer." Murray shook his head. "They teach you that damn speech at Annapolis?"

"No. It's a lesson I'm still learning." Steve cut his gaze to Danny. His best friend usually paraphrased, putting a Jersey spin on it. 'Life's a fickle bitch, Steven, get used to it'. 'Chance is every superhero's kryptonite, Captain America. That's why back up is non-negotiable'. And his classic, 'You want to make God laugh, partner, just tell him your plans.'

"It's bullshit and you know it," Murray said as if he could read Steve's mind, and thus knew Danny's musings. "With a gun in my hand, I'm the only captain of my fate, and in this case I'm in control of yours as well. I'm going to end you now."

"So get it over with." Steve nodded to the door. "Just not here, not in front of Grace. She's seen the people she loves hurt enough as it is. You've taken her father, at least let her have some peace."

"We both know in here is the only place I have an advantage over you. You're younger, quicker, and better trained. Outside these walls you have nothing to lose, and that means gun or not, I'm at a severe disadvantage. I can't let you live with my girl in the ground."

Steve cursed his luck that Murray although certifiable in his grief, maintained a wide streak of common sense. He glanced at the door, willing an interruption. Steve wasn't afraid to die, but he did not want his death witnessed by Grace. The thoughts of her waking up to the sounds of gunshots, terrified and with only the shell of her father for protection twisted that invisible knife in his gut. Danny would never forgive him. "I'll give you my word not to try anything."

"Your word means nothing to me, McGarrett."

"Then at least let me send her out of the room. She'll listen to me." Steve was almost certain that wasn't true considering Grace was a Williams. The thought to tell her no had never occurred to him but his track record with getting her father to do what he said was far from stellar. Steve was desperate. He could not fail his partner, break the promise he had made to Danny.

"I've let you stall me long enough." Murray's face softened, even as he raised the gun level to Steve's head. "I'm sorry for the girl, but I've got my daughter to think about."

Steve had already made the decision to act, knowing if he charged Murray the chances of him taking a fatal hit, although probable ,were still less than if he was frozen in the sharpshooter's sights. It had worked for Danny, and had been disastrous for Hillary Freeman, although unlike Steve neither knew a bullet was heading for them. Steve figured he had fifty-fifty odds, odds which miraculously increased when the alarm sounded from one of the machines by Danny's bed side.

Murray startled at the loud beep, gun hand moving with his line of sight as he sought out the threat. Steve instantly recognized the sound he'd endured three times in the ambulance ride with his partner to the hospital, the ominous tone he'd feared every day he'd sat vigil by Danny, praying for a miracle to bring his friend back to him. He channeled his grief to rage, letting it propel him into Murray taking them both down in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Daddy?" Grace's sleep-filled voice reached him over Murray's surprised grunt, her fear blending badly with the alarm that continued to sound. "Daddy? Uncle Steve?"

Steve focused on Murray, his hands wrapping around the man's wrist, trying to gain leverage on the gun as they rolled over one another on the floor. His first punch connected with the gunman's jaw, but Murray was a formidable opponent, his grip proving sound. He brought the weapon up, the metal bruising against Steve's temple. Even as Steve tried to roll away he realized what was about to happen.

The only blessing was that the loud blasts from the gun momentarily covered the awful monotone beep filling Danny's room. The blast followed by the subsequent explosion of pain in Steve's head drowned out the ringing of the other monitors that now sounded, alerting the nurse's station that their patient was in severe distress. So caught in this new onslaught, Steve didn't comprehend Grace's shouts for help or that Chin Ho and Kono had rushed into the hospital room, takeout bags of food discarded for their drawn weapons.

Confused, he tried to sit up, to scramble after Murray, who dropped the weapon and leapt to his feet, but Steve's body betrayed him. He managed to lift a hand, a Herculean feat allowing him to touch his head.

Steve's fingers came away wet with blood, a sensation that brought a wealth of memories too raw and fresh to the surface-a flash of Danny's chest painted with red. The smell of copper sent him spiraling to a place where Kono's frightened calls couldn't reach him where he was lost to Grace's panicked crying, and most importantly Steve McGarrett slipped away to somewhere he could no longer hear the terrible, terrible sound that was his best friend dying.

The sudden quiet was like being at the bottom of the sea. It slowly receded along with the pain in his head to reveal a lulling sound that was as comforting to Steve McGarrett as Grace's soft breathing. It was the siren song of the surf- water pounding against sand.

Steve took a deep breath surprised to find not the chemical smell of hospital, but ocean air and brine.

He forced his eyes open to a bright blue sky swimming overhead afire with late day sunlight. The unexpected brightness had him blinking, squeezing his eyes shut. It was the water dripping on his face, the unexpected grip on his arm that had him looking up once more. This time the blue that greeted him was a slightly different shade from Hawaiian sky, swirled with colors from the sea, alight with a mix of confusion and concern. Danny Williams, alive, well and dripping wet leaned over him with a grim face.

"Danno?"

"What the hell have you done now, Steven?"

To be continued…