You Owe Me

by njborba

Steve thinks he's finally ready for a future with Catherine, but nothing goes as planned.

14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Hawaii Five-0.

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You Owe Me
Part 14

By
N. J. Borba

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3/3/2014

Steve,

Lawson gave me this notebook today. Actually,

one of his security men gave it to me. Lawson

spoke to me via the satellite webcam system.

He told me he kept a journal after Matthew

died and that it helped him deal with his son's

death. I can't imagine what he wrote in that

journal, because all I see is evidence that he's

spent the last twenty years plotting revenge

against your family.

But, after several days with nothing to read,

and no TV to watch, nowhere to walk, very

little fresh air and only myself to talk to,

I'm surprised I haven't gone completely

crazy yet. I couldn't wait to write in this,

even if the only thing he's given me to write

with is a box of crayons. I guess pens and

pencils could be used as weapons? At this

point I don't even care.

I'm planning to write these entries to you,

even though I'm not sure you'll ever read

them. You probably think I'm dead. They

said there was a funeral and that's why

they took my finger, for proof of my death.

I wouldn't blame you for thinking me dead

after seeing the plane crash Lawson showed

me on the news. I'm trying not to dwell on

the crash or Lenore and her family…

But if you do read this someday then I want

you to know some things. I don't want you to

be upset with yourself for what happened.

Promise me you won't feel guilty for something

that was completely out of your control.

And I don't ever want you to feel bad for not

telling me you love me. I'd hate for you to

dwell on that, because those are just words.

And as nice as I always imagined they would

sound coming from you, I never really needed

them. I already know how you feel about me.

You're not as transparent as Billy, far from it.

But I've known for a long time, probably even

longer than you have.

Actions speak louder than words. Corny, but

true. And the way you look at me is all I've

ever needed to feel loved by you.

Love,

Catherine

000

Steve could only focus on Catherine as he positioned her atop his chest again; managing to keep them both afloat, though he wasn't sure how long he could maintain that. "You promised to always come home to me," he softly spoke in her ear, "And I made a promise to our son this morning that I'd be coming home to him. I'm still planning to hold up my end of that deal, so I suggest you do the same," Steve pressed a kiss against her wet hair.

"I promised not to say these words unless I was looking you in the eye, but… screw it," he exhaled sharply. "I love you, Catherine. I love you and I'm proud of you."

He felt a tear roll down his cheek even as it mingled with the rain. "You've fought so hard, don't you dare give up now," Steve whispered.

The storm clouds rumbled softly, though Steve didn't recall seeing another flash of lightning. The rain's fat drops became a finer mist until it suddenly stopped all together. The ship remained alight, enough combustibles to keep it in flames for hours. The seconds ticked by as he tried to keep his body relaxed enough to float. The late afternoon sun finally peeked out from behind one dark cloud, shimmering brightly despite the dire situation.

That small ray of sunlight pieced through the clouds and shined down exactly where Catherine's unconscious form lay atop his chest.

"Gray skies…"

His eyes widened to hear her voice crackle softly, "Catherine?" Steve prodded, not sure if he'd actually heard anything. He feared it had been wishful thinking on his part. "Catherine? Are you awake?" he reached out again to feel for a pulse.

She blinked, "Clear up…" her words were a hoarse murmur barely audible over the wind that still gusted across the water.

A disbelieving chuckle escaped as he listened to her, "Are you singing?" Steve asked, feeling her heartbeat had grown a little stronger.

"Gray skies… gonna clear up," Catherine whispered. "My mom… Bye Bye Birdie… her favorite…"

He ran a hand gently over her forehead, feeling the lump there that had gotten worse. "I think your head injury is making you a little loopy," Steve said, though he couldn't stop smiling as her brown eyes looked into his. "Do you have any idea how much I've missed you, Lieutenant?"

Her face suddenly paled, "Feel sick," she moaned.

Steve quickly rolled her over, not wanting her to be lying on her back if she vomited. He kept her supported, gently kicking with both legs and treading water with one free hand in an attempt to keep them both afloat. "Sick is good," he whispered softly in her ear. "I know it probably doesn't seem like it right now," Steve realized, "But it means you're not unconscious. Unconscious is bad," he needlessly explained.

Catherine closed her eyes, trying to stave off the queasy feeling in her stomach, but it wouldn't let go. She finally puked up what little food she'd eaten the last two days.

Doing his best to keep her alert, Steve spoke softly to her as he pushed tendrils of wet hair off her face. "This isn't exactly the reunion I had planned," he said, reading the ocean current and wind direction in order to carefully maneuver them out of the way of her body's waste. "I guess we never got to do this when you were pregnant."

"No… I was…" she retched again, though nothing came of it, "Not really sick with Evan."

"That was good, right?" Steve wasn't sure how to mention the pregnancy and everything he'd missed out on. He didn't know if she wanted to talk about it. But as he felt her body begin to shiver, Steve realized that small talk wasn't what they needed at all. "We've got to get you out of the water," he said, paddling toward the wreckage in the hopes of finding some bit of debris that might help them stay afloat better.

"Why're we in the water?" Catherine asked, feeling like every move she made was sluggish.

Her question worried him, "You don't remember what just happened?"

"Um… I got hurt?" she replied, "My head is pounding. And I'm wet."

"At least you don't need to be embarrassed about your leaky spots," he pointed out, "Since your dress is all wet now." The blustery wind slowly petered out, allowing the white-capped water to calm a great deal, which made it easier for Steve to maneuver.

"Thought I heard you say… you loved me," Catherine whispered as she was pulled along, feeling mostly helpless, "Was that a dream?"

"No," his response was swift, "You didn't dream that part. I said those words…" Steve sighed, "I love you, Catherine."

"Great, now I know we're gonna die," she sighed.

Steve carefully readjusted their positions, getting a better hold on her so he could swim toward the ship. "We're not dying out here, not if I can help it. And when we get back to shore I plan to tell you I love you so many times you'll be sick to your stomach."

"Please don't say… sick," Catherine grimaced.

"Sorry, I…" he bit down on the other words, knowing she'd probably scold him again for apologizing. Steve made sure her head was above the water as he continued to use one arm to propel them toward the burning ship. But the current was fighting against them, taking them further away from the ship with every second that passed.

Catherine tried to kick her feet in an attempt to help them cut through the water. Even though the clouds had mostly cleared, the late afternoon sun was already starting to dip lower and eat away at their light. She knew they were working with pretty dismal odds, "See you soon, butthead," the words escaped her lips along with a silent sob that made her shudder.

"What was that?" Steve asked, feeling her whole body shake. He paused his stroke, taking a brief break to catch his breath. He'd made more arduous swims in his SEAL days, but they'd never been under such stressful circumstances. Catherine being alive was a huge relief, but there were still many obstacles in the way of ending her ordeal for good; if that was even a real possibility. His greatest fear was still that she might never come out of it.

"Last words I said to you…" Catherine hated how her emotions were suddenly avalanching now that she was with him. All those months of being strong and brave seemed to be crashing down around her. "The last time we talked I said: see you soon, butthead. Not I love you or even…"

"Catherine," he knew it was his turn to be the strong one for her, "You knew we were joking around. I knew we were joking around, you… you can't feel guilt about that." Steve tried to figure out how to reassure her more than that, but he knew they needed to get moving again.

"I feel guilty for all of it," she whispered as he began to swim again, "For not being more alert during that skating event, for not knowing something was wrong when our flight in Paris kept being delayed, for not knowing I was pregnant and shouldn't have even taken that assignment in Russia in the first place."

"Or for not being a little clearer in your hint to me about the handcuff key," Steve added to her lament.

She scoffed, "What did you want me to say? Hey, Steve, here's the key to unlock that handcuff," Catherine rolled her eyes, though she knew he couldn't see her since he was currently dragging her through the rough ocean water, "They would've been on you in a second and you know it."

"I can't believe we're actually wasting energy arguing about this right now," he replied.

"You started it," she accused. Catherine went silent, realizing he hadn't started it at all. "I know what you just did, sailor," she closed her eyes, still trying to contribute to their propulsion by using her feet. Her head was pounding again and she still felt sick to her stomach, yet she hadn't felt quite so happy in nearly a year. "Think you're pretty smart, don't you? Try to make me feel foolish for blaming myself?"

"No idea what you're talking about, lieutenant," he teased, his right arm reaching forward.

Another huge explosion on the ship echoed across the water. It was followed closely by a second and third boom.

"Hold your breath," Steve warned as he noticed a large piece of the ship's steel hull hurtling toward them. He kept a tight hold on Catherine as they submerged themselves in an effort to avoid being hit by the massive debris. Steve used one hand to feel around them before surfacing safely away from the hunk of steel. "Fire probably reached the fuel tanks," he guessed, "There'll probably be more explosions like that," Steve warned.

He glanced over, realizing she hadn't responded to what he'd just said. "Catherine?" Steve could see her eyes had closed, "Hey, this is no time for naps," he gently warned, worried about her head injury. "Come on, Cath," he felt for a pulse again and breathed out shakily when he found it was still fairly strong.

Two more smaller explosions rocked the ship and Steve didn't think they'd be able to find refuge on the damaged vessel.

As if in answer to his dilemma, Steve spotted a large piece of fiberglass floating along nearby. "Probably from a lifeboat," he spoke aloud, hoping she'd wake up again soon.

Steve was just getting close to the floating debris when he heard something in the distance. Not another explosion or the crackle and hiss of flames burning on the ship. It was a low thut-thut-thut sound. "That's a chopper," he knew the familiar sound, but it didn't automatically comfort him. Steve recalled the helipad on the ship and couldn't help wonder if Lawson had returned, or maybe it was An come looking for them. And he still wasn't sure of her involvement in everything.

He grasped the fiberglass debris and positioned Catherine atop it, backing them toward the shadow of the large ship.

The chopper grew closer, its gentle thut-thut-thut turning into a louder whir of twirling blades. Steve remained cautious, keeping them just out of sight when the chopper appeared on the horizon. Even when he noticed the distinctive orange and white painted graphics of a standard Coast Guard rescue helicopter, he was still nervous of a trap. But he also knew they weren't going to last much longer in the ocean without help. Steve finally propelled them out into the open and began to wave his arms.

In a matter of seconds a rescue swimmer dropped from the copter, plunging into the water a few feet away from them.

"Sir," the male swimmer approached them, "Are you Commander McGarrett?"

"Yes," Steve replied, shouting over the noise above them.

"Detective Williams sent us," the man continued. "I'm AST Bryant, sir. Williams said you might be leery of our involvement so he instructed me to tell you that he wanted to make sure you didn't end up like Billy Selway. He said you'd know what that meant, sir?"

Steve smiled sadly at the memory of what Danny had told him about his childhood friend, "I do," that personal information was enough for Steve to trust the rescue swimmer.

"How badly is she hurt, sir?" Bryant immediately set about assessing the situation as he tended to Catherine. "That's a serious looking head wound." He spoke through his headset, instructing his fellow crew members to lower the litter.

"She's concussed pretty badly, been in and out," Steve relayed, "You'll take her up first?"

"Absolutely, sir," Bryant agreed, "Once they've got her secure on the copter I'll take you up with a harness," he detached the extra harness he'd brought along, working efficiently in the turbulent ocean. Bryant held the object out to Steve, "Have you used one before?"

"Navy SEAL," Steve replied affirmatively. He positioned the harness around himself and was ready by the time the litter was lowered. Steve assisted Bryant and they had Catherine strapped in and ready to go in short order. She was still unconscious as Bryant was about to signal for them to take her up, but Steve kept one hand against her shoulder.

Bryant regarded him with care, "Sir, you're going to need to let go before I can signal my crew," he warned. The younger man could see the trepidation on Steve's face, "I assure you we'll be up there with her in a matter of minutes, sir. They won't leave without us."

Steve nodded and leaned in to kiss her cheek, "See you soon, pookie bear," he whispered, hoping she'd wake up and reprimand him for using the ridiculous pet name. When she didn't make a move, he finally backed away and nodded to Bryant who gave the all clear signal. Steve watched as she was taken away, every second killing him a little inside. But, true to his word, Bryant had Steve in the copter beside Catherine within five minutes. And when Steve sat down beside her he saw that her eyes were open.

"Hiya, sleeping beauty," he grinned, holding her hand as Bryant tended her forehead.

"Now where are we?" she whispered.

"Headed home," Steve assured her.

Her eyes closed, "Evan…"

"Yep, we'll see him soon," he replied, squeezing her hand. "Well, we probably need to stop off at a hospital first but…"

"Evan," Catherine repeated his name. "Where is he?"

"I told you," Steve eyed her worriedly, wondering if the injury was clouding her memories again, "Remember, I told you Evan was at Five-0 headquarters with Doris. And you were completely fine with that. Changed your mind now, huh?" he teased.

"Lawson heard," she whispered, "Wo Fat heard you…"

"Cath?" he called to her, "Catherine?" Steve looked to Bryant.

"Think she's out again, sir," the technician replied as he continued to clean and patch up the nasty wound on her forehead.

Steve sat with her, glancing to the horizon as they passed over what he guessed was the big island. He thought about what she'd said, worried about where Evan was. And that Lawson and Wo Fat had heard them. "Shit!" he finally exclaimed, realizing she was still more with it than he was even in a semi-conscious state. "Bryant, I need to make a call. Can you patch me through?" Steve asked, feeling panic begin to settle in.

"Davis can get you a line," Bryant said, nodding toward the copilot.

They had him connected to Danny in just a few minutes, "Danny, where are you?"

"I could ask you the same, babe. Where are you calling from? Sounds like a wind storm."

"I'm on the rescue chopper you sent," Steve replied.

"Glad to hear it."

"Listen to me, Danny. Are you at HQ with my mom and Evan?"

"No, I'm at the Coast Guard base on Sand Island. We've been searching for you."

"Then you have Chin and Kono watching Doris and the baby?"

"No, they're with me."

"Danny, I think Lawson or Wo Fat might be headed to HQ. They know Evan is there," Steve mentally kicked himself again for being stupid enough to let that information slip out. He hoped Wo Fat was dead, floating in the ocean somewhere. But he also knew the man had at least as many lives as a cat and had surprised them more than once over the years. "I need you or Chin or Kono to get over there right away. All of you, preferably"

"Yeah, sure. But I'm telling you the Palace is locked down tight. Grover's got SWAT guarding the perimeter. No one's getting in there."

"Then humor me, Danny."

"Don't I always?"

000

Steve was torn as he walked through the hospital beside Catherine's bed, holding her hand.

She'd been assessed in the ER then taken for an MRI. He didn't want to leave her side for a single second; needing to stay alert to listen to everything the doctors and nurses had to say. But he hadn't heard back from Danny about Evan. There was no way he could be in two places at one time and it was tearing him apart inside. After they situated Catherine in a private room, one nurse stayed behind to check her vitals. "Can I get an outside line with this phone?" Steve pointed to the old-school dial phone beside the bed.

"Yes, just press 9 first," the dark haired woman instructed with a kindly smile.

As he held the phone to his ear waiting for Danny to pick up, Steve watched everything the nurse did, "How is she?"

"Vitals are strong," the nurse replied, "The doctor should be here soon to go over the MRI results with you."

"Thanks," Steve listened to Danny's cell as it rang, and rang and rang, "Come on, Danno, pick up your phone. I need to know what the heck is going on."

"Is this you calling?"

Steve looked across the small hospital room to see Danny standing in the doorway. He was holding his cell phone up, eying the number displayed on the screen. "Yes, it's me calling, you idiot," Steve growled, putting the room's phone down. "Where've you been, Danny? Why didn't you call me back? Where's Evan?"

Danny slid the cell phone back into his pocket, "Calm down, okay. Evan is fine. Actually, the last I saw… erm, heard… your son has one heck of a set of lungs on him. I'm thinking he gets that ornery spirit from you, because she," he waved a hand at Catherine, "Seems way too serene to have produced such a yowler."

His eyes cut Danny down, "Could you be serious for one second," Steve sighed.

"I was being serious. Evan is not a happy camper," Danny relayed. "But he is safe. Chin and I checked out the situation, no sign of Lawson or Wo Fat. Grover is there on guard with his team. Doris is dealing with cranky McGarrett amazingly well, but I assume she's had previous practice. All is well. Mostly," he eyed Catherine again with a worried look, "How is she?"

"She's alive," Steve let out a breath as he sunk down onto a chair by her bed and took her hand again. "Everything else at this point is…"

"You look like hell, babe," Danny said, clapping a hand against his friend's shoulder, "And you're soaking wet," he pulled his hand away, "Didn't the Coast Guard offer you something dry? Maybe a towel?" he wondered, wiping his hand against his pants as he caught Steve's awkward look, "Of course they did, but you were too focused on Catherine to worry about yourself," Danny easily guessed, "Well, good thing I asked Kono to run by your place and get some clothes for both of you."

"Thanks, Danny," he replied, his eyelids drooping.

"Maybe you should get some rest?"

Steve's eyes went wide again, "No. They did an MRI and the doctor's coming to tell us what's going on. I have to be awake."

"Okay, in that case…" Danny nodded, "I'm going to get some high octane coffee for us." He returned several minutes later to find Steve's head resting against Catherine's side while he held her hand. Danny tried to quietly set the second cup of coffee down on the rolling table, but his movement caused Steve to snap upright.

"What happened?" Steve glanced around.

"Easy there, big guy," the detective found another chair crammed in one corner and pulled it over beside his friend. He handed Steve a cup of coffee, "Maybe not the best thing to be giving you caffeine, but here," Danny sipped his lukewarm coffee. "Any news yet?" he nodded toward Catherine, keeping his voice low.

"No," Steve blew on his coffee and then realized it was already barely warm. He scrunched his nose as he took a drink of the stuff which could barely be considered coffee. His eyes darted toward the open doorway again, scanning the hallway, "Not sure what these people's definition of soon is, but it's been nearly ten minutes since the nurse said the doctor was going to be in to tell us about the MRI results," he huffed.

Danny set his coffee on the table, "Calm down, the doctor will be here," he assured. "And you need to relax a little. Catherine needs you to be on top of your game, am I right? Go ahead, tell me I'm right," Danny nudged his friend.

With a nod, Steve let his shoulders relax a little. "How'd you find us?"

"Ah, well…" Danny sat back on the hard plastic chair, "We started with background checks but realized pretty quick that was needle in a haystack territory without some direction. So then Chin began to check search radiuses. Turns out Coast Guard teams were covering all island waters except for a large swath of the south-eastern coast of the big island and a chunk of the northern coast of Molokai. That's when we discovered Coast Guard Captain Murk. Apparently this Ross Murk guy was good friends with Nick Lawson before Lawson retired from the Navy. Murk's financials were all we needed to confirm he was keeping search vessels away from those areas. No doubt Captain Murk was being paid off by Lawson."

Steve let out a sigh of relief to know at least one of Lawson's moles had been uncovered. He just feared the man had more friends they didn't know about.

There was a courtesy knock on the open door before a tall man entered the room. "I'm doctor Walman," he extended a hand.

Jumping up to shake the doctor's hand, Steve couldn't help think the guy looked a lot younger than him, "Steve," he quickly responded. "What'd the scan show?"

"Minor damage only," he revealed the good news. "The field medic did an excellent job stitching her forehead. Other than that there's some significant swelling, but that will go down in the next few days," he assured, "But no skull fracture or internal bleeding, which is what had us worried when she was brought in. I'd say she's a very lucky woman. She'll probably be in and out a bit the next twenty-four hours, and she could continue to be nauseated."

"Can I go home?" Catherine asked from the bed, her voice groggy.

Steve looked down to see her eyes open. He reached for her hand again and smiled, letting her know he was right there for her.

Dr. Walman wavered, "That depends on how you're feeling?"

"Head hurts," she gave the obvious answer.

"Yes, I imagine it does," Walman nodded with a small smile, "You took a nasty blow to your forehead, but as I was just explaining to these gentlemen the MRI let us know nothing is broken or bleeding, swelling is all outward."

"Um, she…" Danny spoke up hesitantly as he stood beside Steve next to Catherine's bed, "The other night, Friday night, she took another kinda bad hit to the back of her head. Butt of my gun actually," he grimaced, looking to Catherine, "I'm really sorry about that. I didn't think…"

"S'okay, Danny," she assured him.

"In that case it'd probably be best to keep you overnight," Walman replied.

"No!" Catherine protested, though it hurt her head to speak so loudly, "Please," her tone turned to more of a whisper, "I need to see my son tonight. He's only a few months old and I've never been away from him before. It's already been nearly two days."

Walman shook his head, "I'm sure your son would prefer his mother be well before he sees her again."

"You don't have kids, do you?" Danny asked the man.

"Well, no," the doctor replied.

"Steve," Catherine turned her request upon him. "If I stay will you bring Evan here?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. Evan and Doris are safest right now at the Palace with Grover guarding them," he told her, hating to lay down the law, "I don't want to have them transported around the city needlessly, and this place is too big…" Steve regretted his choice of words, "I don't mean that you seeing him would be needless, I just… if Lawson is lurking around I don't want to make them easy targets. I can get more guards around the Palace than I can this hospital."

"Will you let Evan come home if I'm home?" she tried again.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Then tell him I'm well enough to go home," Catherine instructed.

He almost smiled at her insistence, "Cath, I'm not a doctor," Steve shrugged.

"Please," she finally begged, "I just want to go home. Take me home, Steve. I'll rest there. I won't rest here."

"She does have a point," Danny remarked, "People never actually rest in hospitals."

Steve glared at his partner for a second, "If she goes home and I promise to watch her closely?" he asked the doctor.

"I guess that'll have to do," the man gave in with a nod. "I'll get your release papers."

As the doctor was slipping out the door, Kono poked her head in the room, "Okay for me to come in?" she asked, her eyes and smile settling on Catherine. Seeing the small nod from her friend, Kono entered and sat down a duffle bag at the foot of the bed before she went to wrap her arms around Catherine's shoulders, "It's been a while, sister," she whispered.

Catherine hugged her back, "Too long," she managed a smile for Kono as the woman pulled away, "I've been really worried about you."

"You've been worried about me?" Kono grinned, "I heard you helped figure out the Intel on Sato that helped get Adam and I home. I don't know how to thank you for that."

"You don't need to," Catherine assured her friend.

Another knock sounded and a man filled the doorway, tall, bulky and suited up in a full-body bomb suit.

"Boss," Kono shifted to regain her work composure as she faced Steve, "I almost forgot, I was talking to Grover about the collar around Catherine's neck and he insisted that I bring Officer Baines with me from the Bomb Squad."

"Smart thinking," Steve had barely thought about the collar, more worried about her head, "Do you know much about that collar, other than what Wo Fat told us?"

With worried eyes, Catherine chewed her bottom lip, "I don't think it's any sort of bomb. But I tried to take it off once and didn't get very far."

Steve broke down what little he did know for Officer Baines, repeating Wo Fat's words, "Slash proof featherweight wire mesh, four points of contact with the skin, some sort of software built in, it's basically a stun gun from what I can figure out."

"Is it currently functioning?" Baines asked Catherine, "Still giving off a charge?"

"Yes," she answered, "I'm out of their programed radius so… it hurts a lot," Catherine revealed, hating the sympathetic looks on all their faces, "I've learned how to deal with it," her words came out a bit more harsh than she'd wanted.

"I'll need you all to step out of the room," the officer instructed, "If I find there is some sort of incendiary device attached I'll have to clear the floor, possibly the entire hospital." Danny and Kono headed for the door, but Steve stayed put. "You, too, Commander McGarrett," Baines said.

His fingers interlaced with Catherine's and Steve stayed put, "I'm not leaving her. Just do what you need to do."

Baines nodded his understanding and got to work. It didn't take him long to cut through and remove the decorative fabric layer. Underneath that Steve could see the wire mesh circling Catherine's neck. The crisscross patterned wire looked very tight, almost to the point of choking her. He couldn't imagine how she'd managed to go about daily life with that device around her neck, eating, sleeping or even just walking. It seemed likely to have bothered her every second of the day.

Steve could feel her squeeze his hand a little tighter and he squeezed back.

"Never seen anything like this," Baines remarked. "I mean, the components all seem familiar, but in miniature… this is sophisticated technology."

"Do you see any explosive device?" Steve asked.

"No, sir," the officer reported, "The software chips worry me, though. And it appears that the four contact points are nodes embedded under the surface of the skin."

Taking a deep breath, Steve looked the man in the eye, "Undoing this mess… it's not going to kill her, is it? Do you need a surgeon to remove the nodes?"

"They're not that deep, they should pull out with the mesh," Baines relayed as honestly as possible, "But if I don't deaden the software chips in the right sequence, it could cause her a great deal of pain before I can get all four nodes removed," he explained.

"I can handle it," Catherine assured, doing her best not to move too much, "Just do it."

Without a note of hesitation, Baines went back to it. Steve watched closely as the man slowly, painstakingly cut through the wire mesh, which was stronger than it looked. Then he went about deadening the software chips, clipping the tiniest wires that connected each of them to the nodes. And he ended up having to ever-so-gently work the wire nodes out from under the skin. The four pinpoint locations bled a little once the wires were removed, but not much more than a trickle.

"That's it," Baines finally announced.

"You sure?" Steve released a breath, not realizing he'd been holding it in for so long.

"I can't say for certain what sort of lasting damage has been done," the officer relayed, "I've honestly never dealt with anything attached to human skin like that before. Could be nerve damage you might want to discuss with your doctor here. But my part is done."

"Thank you," Catherine replied, though it hurt her throat a little to speak and swallow.

Steve noticed that her neck was bleeding some more. He grabbed tissues from a box by the sink and dabbed at the wounds. "Here," Steve pressed the nurse call button, "See if we can get you patched up. Probably just need a couple small bandages," he wore a smile, noticing she'd gone quiet, "You okay? What's wrong?"

"Throat hurts," she whispered. "Why?"

His head shook, feeling bad he didn't have any answer for her, "Maybe you should stay tonight and…"

"No," her protest was a whisper, but firm.

A different nurse entered. Danny and Kono were right behind her. "The man who just left said you'd need this," the middle-aged blonde wrapped gauze around Catherine's neck.

"Good thing I brought you…" Kono unzipped the duffle bag and pulled out a delicate pale-blue and white scarf. As soon as the nurse had secured the bandage with some medical tape, Kono gently tied the scarf around Catherine's neck, "It's a little fancier than the sweatpants and t-shirt I brought for you, but…"

Catherine smiled softly, thankful of her friend's thoughtfulness. But her attention shifted as she caught the nurse's attention, "When I get out of here, do you think it's okay for me to nurse my son?" she asked, her throat already feeling better, though still somewhat sore.

"You're very dehydrated," the nurse relayed, "That's why we've had you on the IV," she pointed out even as she removed the IV needle from Catherine's arm and taped down a cotton ball over the puncture mark, "How long has it been since you last ate?"

"I'm not sure," Catherine shrugged, "I had a little something yesterday."

The nurse nodded, "And how long since you last nursed your son?"

"About two days."

"You worried your milk has dried up?"

"No," Catherine glanced downward, lifting the blanket. Her hospital gown was slightly wet across the chest, "Still leaking."

"That's a good sign," the nurse assured with a smile, "But having nursed two babies of my own, I advise you eat a few good meals first, get a night of rest and then you can try nursing him again. If he's been good at nursing in the past I bet he'll go right back to it."

Catherine thanked the woman.

As soon as the nurse had gone, Kono pointed to the duffle bag, "Also managed to find a nursing bra for you and some shield thingies, hopefully the right stuff. The lady at the store helped me out since Danny refused to go in with me," she glared good naturedly at the detective, "Even though he's the only one with any kind of parenting experience."

"Parenting," Danny stressed, "I do not possess the sort of equipment required for that type of feeding. That was Rachel's department."

Kono grinned as she gently slapped Danny's shoulder, "Come on," she pointed toward the door, "Let's give them a moment and head back to HQ."

"Thank you," Steve nodded, walking them to the door, "We'll see you there." When he turned back to Catherine she was already on her feet, had grabbed the duffel bag, and was halfway to the bathroom, "Hold on speedy," he rushed over to open the bathroom door for her, "You need help getting dressed?"

"I can manage," she insisted, "You need to find the doctor so I can get out of here," Catherine instructed.

When she reemerged several minutes later, Steve was seated on the bed. He waved the release papers in his left hand, "All you need to do is sign," there was a pen in his right hand.

Her eyes rolled as she tossed the bag onto the bed beside him, "Do dead people really have to sign hospital release forms?" She took the pen he offered and scrawled her name in a hurried fashion. Catherine then slipped on the flats Kono had brought for her, "Can we go now?" she didn't bother waiting, heading toward the door without Steve. She didn't even give the orderly with the wheelchair a second glace as she pushed past him and exited the room.

Steve hustled to his feet, realizing he wasn't going to have a chance to change clothes. He snatched up her papers and duffel bag and followed her into the hall. Steve couldn't tell if she'd been making a joke about being dead. If she was upset or sad, it was hard to tell. All he knew was that she was determined to see Evan, and that was one thing he could help her with at the moment. He dropped off the release papers at the nurse's station and did his best to explain to the orderly that Catherine wasn't going to ride in the wheelchair.

Their trip across town to the Palace in the back of a police escort was silent.

Once they'd arrived, Catherine bypasses everyone at Five-0 HQ in favor of heading down the hall to where she could hear her son crying. She pushed open the door to Chin's office and spotted the back of Doris' head and the top of Evan's. With only a few more small steps to traverse, Catherine swooped in to stand in front of Doris. The older woman's eyes widened and then crinkled as she smiled. Doris looked down at the boy cradled in her arms who was still crying, "He's been a rather cranky boy."

Catherine let her left hand caressed Evan's fluffy head of hair, "Hey, nugget," she spoke softly to the fussy baby, still not sure if anything past falling off the ship had been real, "What's wrong, little guy? Why're you so cranky?"

Evan instantly stopped crying, his head turning toward her voice. His tear-filled brown eyes stared up at her, and tiny pink lips curled into a huge toothless grin.

"Did you miss me?" Catherine scooped him up out of Doris' arms and held him in front of her face for a moment, kissing both his soft cheeks, "I've missed you, nugget. I've missed you so much," she whispered, moving the boy to her left shoulder. Evan's chest rested against her shoulder, his head aimed at Catherine, happy smile still plastered on his little face. "I'm so sorry I had to leave you for a while," she kissed him again, gently stroking his back.

"Guess he just missed his mom," Doris whispered to Steve.

"Look at his smile," Steve was in awe as he watched Catherine tend to their son.

Doris rubbed his arm for a second, "I'll let the three of you have some time," she said before slipping out of Chin's office.

Steve stayed rooted to his spot a few feet away from them, not sure what Catherine or Evan needed from him.

Evan's gleeful smile finally faltered and he whimpered softly against her shoulder, "You are a fussy boy," she spoke softly, but not down to him; not in any sort of overly sweet tone of voice. Catherine spoke to him just like anyone else, "You're hungry. I know that hungry fuss," she said, settling down on a black leather bench beneath the window.

"Mom probably has his bottles out in the mini fridge, I'll…" Steve trailed off as he watched her pull her t-shirt up.

Catherine easily pulled the t-shirt aside to reach her bra and release the right-side of her nursing bra flap.

"Uh, didn't the nurse say that you should wait and…" there wasn't much more Steve could say as he watched Evan latch on and immediately begin to suckle. He could see by the way Catherine looked down at the boy that it was probably more a matter of comfort for both of them than of nourishment.

"How do you survive, Steve?" her eyes lifted to rest on him.

"I…" he was thrown by her unexpected question, staring into her dark eyes, "I guess it depends. You use different survival scenarios for different situations… desert, water, mountain…"

"No," she sighed, shaking her head at him, "I'm talking about survival, Steve. Your life. Fighting for your life and the lives of those you care most about. How do you survive that? What do you do?" she asked. "What do you do?"

"Catherine… I'm not sure what you're asking…" he crouched down in front of her and Evan, feeling as helpless as he had the last ten months.

"The answer is… anything. Everything," she enunciated the words, even as she softly stroked her son's chubby cheek, "You lay down with the devil himself if it means keeping your sweet, innocent child safe," Catherine looked to Steve again, "If it means one day you might be able to introduce your son to his father. If it means some day you can sit on a beach again, feel the sand in your toes… relax," tears filled her eyes, "You do anything."

"You're right," Steve immediately agreed, "I get it, Cath…"

"I fought them every day," she stressed, "However I could, small ways, only in my thoughts most of the time when I was alone on that ship. But I fought," Catherine insisted, "They were too smart to let marks show. That's why they did this," one hand brushed against her neck. "After a while I had to give in, small ways, compromises, sell them what they wanted to hear, pretend I was with them, pretend I was against you," her voice wavered, struggling to keep it together, "Up here I had to," she pointed to her head, "But never here," Catherine held a hand over her heart. "I never stopped fighting them from here. My heart always remained yours," she assured him.

Catherine reached out to grasp Steve's hand and brought it over to rest against Evan's tummy. "Proof," she whispered.

The strength of her grip somewhat startling, Steve tried to stay just as strong for her, "I know," he replied, though he felt a wave of conflicting emotions rush over him. His sense of guilt returned, but he was also filled with admiration at how well she managed to deal with everything and still remain hopeful.

Evan's small right hand stretched outward for a moment before it settled to rest atop their joined hands.

Steve allowed his other hand to caress the long, delicate fingers of his son's hand, "Why do you call him nugget?"

"Um," she sniffed back tears, a smile forming. "I guess because, you know, a nugget of gold is something precious and…" Catherine shrugged, "I don't even really remember why I started calling him that, it just stuck." She could tell the baby had fallen asleep, only needing a small bit of comfort from her before succumbing to the tiredness he'd probably been fighting for hours. Catherine extracted her nipple from the boy's mouth and situated her clothing.

She sat forward, holding Evan in the crook of her left arm, "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "We can."

000

3/12/2014

Steve,

I think it's been a little over two weeks since

I was brought to the ship they call the Kappa,

for short. I have a calendar but I'm not certain

when I was brought here. I think there were

several days spent somewhere else directly

after I was taken from the plane. While we

were in transit to the boat, maybe. A lot of

that time is still a blur to me. I was sedated

mostly until they brought me here.

I've still got my crayons and notebook. I like

writing in blue best. It mostly fits my mood.

Last week An was worried about the drugs

she's been giving me to keep me sedated. She

claims they're herbal, but she thinks I've been

sleeping too much. Well, the blood tests came

back and An told me I'm pregnant. Pregnant.

Not exactly the way I ever imagined finding

out that sort of news. Not that I ever imagined

it at all. It's still hard to believe.

We're having a baby, Steve. I know I told

you I never wanted kids, but…

An has a nurse to take care of me. Pam. She

visited today and was very nice. I'm not sure

how she got caught up in all this with An and

Lawson. I'm still trying to figure it all out, but

I think she might be an old friend of An's.

First thing nurse Pam did was one of those

ultrasound things to check on the baby. She

said I'm about fourteen weeks along. Fourteen

weeks! How stupid do I feel right now that I

never even guessed?

Pam actually made me laugh, though. She said

there are women that come into the hospital

complaining of stomach pain and give birth

without ever knowing they were pregnant. It

seems unlikely to me that someone could go

that long without knowing, but who am I to

talk at the moment?

Anyhow, I saw it on the screen today. It. IT!

I really hate to have to tell you this, but I'm

pretty sure we're having an alien. It looks like

an alien, at least the type they show in lame

outer space movies. Pam tried to point out the

head and hands and everything, but… I know

women are meant to fall in love with their

babies instantly and all that sappy shit you

hear about, but I'm serious when I tell you it

just looks like a blob. Actually, it kind of looks

like a chicken nugget with fingers, if a chicken

nugget had fingers…

Have I mentioned how hungry I am all the

time? I mean every second of the day when

I'm not sleeping.

I'll write more later. I need a nap,

Cath

P.S. – It has fingers!

000

Steve opened the front door, allowing Catherine, the baby and his mom to enter first.

"I'm going to see what's in the kitchen," Doris announced, "Make something simple, sandwiches? You both need to eat," she declared before rushing off to the other room.

He closed the door and dropped Catherine's duffle and the baby's diaper bag onto the floor. When he turned to Catherine he noticed she was standing in the middle of the room, Evan secure in her arms as she glanced around the space. "Are you okay?" Steve asked, even though he realized that was a fairly stupid question. "Catherine?" he still wasn't getting any kind of response from her, "Do you feel sick again? You wanna sit down?"

"Everything looks the same," she finally whispered. "I don't know why, but I expected things to look different."

"Yeah, well if Mary had her way all your stuff would've been packed up by now and…" Steve sighed, "Do you want to sit down on the sofa or head upstairs?"

"Mary," Catherine spoke his sister's name with worry, "Where's Mary?"

Steve took a quick breath, glancing down at the files that were still blanketing the floor, pictures of all the people that had been on that flight with Catherine, "She's in California," he answered, bending over to pick up a few files, stacking them in an alternating fashion so she wouldn't see the pictures, "Mary's starting a new job on Monday."

"What about Lawson?" she asked.

"I doubt he cares about Mary's new job…" he sucked in a breath, realizing that Lawson actually might care, "Catherine, did he say anything to you yesterday or today about maybe going after Mary again? You don't think now that he's lost you and Evan… he wouldn't still try to take Mary?"

"Who's taking Mary?" Doris asked from the kitchen doorway.

"You need to call her," Catherine aimed her request at Doris, "Lawson might try to hurt her now that I'm out of his control. He wanted to before and now…"

"Okay," the older woman walked over and rested a hand again Catherine's shoulder, "Just calm down," Doris could see the worry in her eyes and hear it in her voice, "I talked to Mary earlier today when I was at the Palace. I explained to her what's going on. She and Debra are spending tonight with an old friend of mine from the CIA who lives in LA. And I've arranged for private guards to watch each of them for the next few weeks or however long it takes us to catch this Lawson guy."

Catherine relaxed her shoulders just a little, breathing out a sigh of relief.

After flashing a thankful smile at his mother, Steve thought about some other contacts that needed to be made, "Catherine, we should let you parents know what's going on," he realized, "I spotted a few news cameras when we exited the hospital. Media's going to break this story soon enough," Steve pointed out.

Her head shook, "I don't want to talk to them tonight," Catherine heaved, "I just…"

"Would it be okay if I called them?" Doris offered, seeing Catherine was having trouble keeping her emotions in line. "If it was me, I'd want to know about Steve or Mary being alive right away," she said, "And I saw them at the… at your, well it was a funeral for all intents and purposes," Doris shrugged, "They were devastated. And I know neither of you have your cell phones on you, and apparently don't believe in landlines. If you write down the numbers…"

Catherine smiled weakly, "Thank you."

Doris nodded, "Good. That's settled. Now, about your sandwich orders," she transitioned straight into food, "Looks like we have turkey and cheese or peanut butter and jelly, grape or strawberry jam," Doris' brows arched, "What'll it be?"

"I'm really not hungry," Catherine tried to protest.

"If you're planning to feed my grandson again, you're eating," Doris declared.

"Turkey," she gave in.

Steve nodded, "Turkey's good for me, too."

"Where's Trooper?" Catherine asked, looking around again. "Has she been here all day without anyone to let her out?"

"Oh, I almost forgot," Doris replied, "When I realized I was going to be at the Palace for the long haul with Evan I worried about Trooper being alone all day. So I had Mick stop by to pick her up and take her back to his place. I'll call Mick and have him drop her off later or maybe in the morning."

"Apparently Mick does all of mom's shopping and dog sitting," Steve eyed his mother, wondering if there was something more to that relationship he should know about.

Doris shrugged and returned to the kitchen.

"Can I go upstairs?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah, sure," Steve's attention returned to her, "You can go anywhere you want, kitchen, back yard…" his heart constricted a little realizing she'd asked permission. Something she must have done all the time she was locked away.

"I just want to lie down on my own bed," she whispered, "Our bed."

He tried to forget about everything for the moment as he headed toward the stairs, "I'll walk with you."

They climbed and Catherine entered their bedroom, again stopping to stand just inside the room. Her eyes took it all in.

"Everything is mostly the same here as well," Steve reported, "Except for," he motioned toward her bedside table, "I told Mary she could take that book you were reading. She wanted to pack everything," he repeated, "I got pretty upset with her about it and was kinda rude to her," Steve regretted.

"She'll forgive you," Catherine was confident as she walked over to her nightstand, "I don't even remember what I was reading… there's a lot of dust."

"Now you're gonna complain about the dust, too?" Steve shook his head. She'd just returned home after ten months away, held in captivity, and she was complaining about his lack of cleaning. "Promise I'll get out a dust mop as soon as all of this is over."

"In your dress whites?" she smiled faintly at the memory of how he'd planned to make up to her for lying about the threatening notes and pictures.

"Yep, in the dress whites," Steve promised as he stood in front of her and looked down at the baby, "He's still asleep, why don't I put him down for you," he reached for his son.

"He needs a diaper change," Catherine replied, holding fast to the boy, clearly not ready to let go of her son just yet.

Steve nodded and stepped away, "I think the only diapers are in the bag downstairs. I'll grab it and be right back." He was gone for less than a minute but found her still standing in the same place. "I can change him, if you want," he offered, "I completed several successful diaper change missions last night, even learned how to hold the diaper over him for a few minutes in case he let the hose loose," Steve joked.

"I'll do it," she finally stepped forward and laid Evan on the bed.

He watched her change the very wet diaper, impressed by how at ease she seemed performing the task, and how she managed to not even wake the little guy. Steve had a hard time remembering that she'd been doing it for several months where as he was still new to the procedures. "Looks like you've got this under control. I'll go see if mom needs help with the sandwiches," Steve said before leaving them, not feeling terribly needed.

"What does Catherine like," Doris asked as soon as she spotted her son in the kitchen, "Mayo and mustard, lettuce and tomato?"

"Sounds fine except no mustard," Steve replied, grabbing a few bottles of water from the fridge. He closed the door and leaned against the counter, "Mom, do you think…" he sighed.

Doris turned to face him, butter knife in one hand, "You're gonna need to give it a lot more time, Steven. She's been on her own for months. But eventually she'll let you in again, let you help her. Right now you just need to be supportive in any way she'll allow. Just don't give up on her."

"I'd never…" he shook his head, "I will never give up on her."

"I know," Doris nodded with a faint smile recalling his declarations in the cemetery, "Do you have her parent's phone numbers?"

"We keep this in case our cell phones are lost," he opened a drawer and fished out a small planner, "David Rollins, and her mom is under Jacobson, Elizabeth. But I can call them if you want? It's not a big…"

"Please," his mother interrupted, "I want to help Catherine, too. If I'm really giving up the spy life for good then I need to realize making sandwiches and calling Catherine's parents are a few of the little things that will make me feel useful."

Steve watched her spread mayo on a piece of wheat bread, "Do you really think you can?" he asked, "Give it up for good?"

She turned to him again, "I want to have a relationship with my grandson, so yes. If that's what it takes," Doris nodded, continuing her sandwich building, "I'd like to have a relationship with you and Catherine, too," she revealed. "But I know you're probably still upset with me."

"I am," he didn't lie, "But these last few days have made me realize I want to have a relationship with you, too, mom. I want you, me, Mary, Catherine and Evan… I want us to be a family; one that sticks it out through the good and bad together. Like I told you Catherine and I had learned to do. Is that asking too much?"

With a heavy sigh, Doris finished up the sandwiches. She put them on plates and handed them off to Steve, "It's not asking too much, but I can only promise to try."

He tucked one water bottle under each arm and held a plate in each hand, walking slowly up the stairs. Inside their bedroom, Steve let the water bottles fall onto the bed before he sat the plates down on their nightstands. His heart skipped wildly when he noticed Catherine wasn't in the room, but relaxed a little when he heard the bathroom faucet. Steve peeked inside the port-a-crib to check on Evan before heading to the bathroom, but the baby wasn't in the crib.

"Catherine?" he rushed to the bathroom door and tried the knob. It was locked. "Catherine, where's Evan?" Steve didn't want to alarm her, but he was too worried not to ask.

The lock tumbled and she opened the door, dressed in the fluffy white bathrobe he remembered her wearing only one time before. Their first night sleeping in the new bed when she'd teased him before revealing that she was actually wearing the skimpy camouflage negligee he'd bought for her. "He's here," she stepped aside to show him the baby was swaddled and laying on the floor of the bathroom.

"Why is he sleeping on the bathmat?" Steve's heart settled again. He was curious, not upset.

"I…" she bit her lip, "I wanted to get cleaned up and I always take him into the bathroom with me and lock the door. In case someone tried to take him while I was…"

The way she spoke the words broke his heart, understanding how frightened she must have been to think about leaving Evan anywhere alone on the ship. Further proof of the paranoid life she'd lived for the last few months. "It's okay," Steve assured her. "I was just worried. But he seems fine there, so I'll just…"

"No, it's not okay," she realized, having seen the brief flash of panic in his eyes when he didn't know where the baby was, "It's not normal to make your baby lay on the floor so you can take a shower or pee," Catherine walked over and gently scooped up the sleeping baby. She carefully transferred him into Steve's arms, "You can watch him."

Steve took her words and actions as a good sign, but dared to press a little further, "He's gonna sleep for another few hours, right? So why don't I go put him down in the crib and then I'll stay in here with you, make sure you don't fall in the shower," Steve offered, "I'm still worried about your head."

She nodded, watching from the door for a moment as Steve put the baby down.

By the time he returned she was in the shower, curtain pulled.

"You okay in there?" he asked.

"Fine," Catherine returned. She managed to wash her hair and scrub down most of her body before a dizzy spell overtook her, "Steve?!"

He pushed the curtain away and saw her leaning heavily against the tile wall. Steve jumped in behind her, "I've got you," he whispered, the shower spray causing his damp clothes to get wet again, "Good thing I never changed, huh?" he joked.

"Yeah," she replied, closing her eyes a moment as he turned the water off. "Sorry I'm such a…"

"Hey," Steve stopped her, wrapping one arm about her waist as he helped her step out of the tub. "No apologizes," he reminded her. Catherine leaned against him for support as he grabbed two towels from the linen closet. He placed one over the closed toilet seat and sat her down there. The other towel he wrapped around her shoulders, drying her back and arms before working his way down to her legs. "Do you want clothes or just the robe to wear?" he asked when she was dry.

"Robe," Catherine decided, "But the lavender one? I think it's in the closet?"

"Okay, don't move," he pointed a finger warningly at her until he slipped out to check their closet.

Steve returned with the lavender robe and she stood while he held it out for her.

He sucked in a breath as he finally took a moment to look at her. She'd removed the gauze around her neck to shower and Steve could see the wire mesh and implanted nodes had left bold red marks against her skin. There was a puckered scar across her left shoulder where she'd been attacked by the Olympic knife wielder. Her breasts were fuller from nursing, but her body seemed frail to him - as thin, or thinner, than before she'd been pregnant.

When she turned her back to him in order to pull on the robe, Steve spotted the mark above her hipbone. The simplistic dove branded into her flesh.

Somehow he'd missed seeing that while toweling her off.

That mark, more than anything, caused him to fume, even though it wasn't a huge surprise.

"Scars," Catherine said, catching his eye in the mirror as she cinched the robe about her waist. She turned to face him, brave eyes gazing into his. "I know they're ugly," she said as his hands came to rest against her hips, "But…"

"You're beautiful, Catherine," he whispered, "Nothing will ever change that, not any of those scars," Steve insisted, "Those are evidence of healed wounds, evidence that you survived and are here to tell about it," Steve ran one hand along her damp hair, pushing it behind her ear and realizing it was longer than when she'd left, "Those scars are the past. And we're going to find Lawson and Wo Fat and send them to the past as well," he vowed.

"When you say it, I believe it," she whispered, finally allowing herself to lean against him.

He held her close for a long time until there was a soft knock on the door.

Doris was standing in their bedroom when they emerged from the bathroom, "I brought an ice pack for your forehead," she offered.

"Thank you," Catherine took the pack and went to sit on her side of the bed. She stretched her legs out in front of her, robe mostly covering her slightly hairy legs which she hadn't gotten around to shaving before the dizzy spell had hit. The ice pack stung for a moment but she held it there and was almost immediately comforted by the coolness against her throbbing head. "Do I really need to eat?" she glanced at the sandwich by the bed.

"If you plan to feed Evan again," Steve nodded, reiterating his mother's warning.

"What if I get sick?" Catherine wondered.

"Do you feel sick right now?" Doris asked.

"No, kinda dizzy," she glanced between Doris and Steve, mother and son standing shoulder to shoulder at the foot of the bed. Both had their arms crossed, and nearly identical looks of concern on their faces, "Okay," Catherine gave in, reaching for the sandwich.

"You've been gone for months and all I made you is a sandwich," Doris shook her head as she twisted off the lid of one of the bottles of water and handed it to Catherine, "I'll cook a better breakfast, if you want me to stay. I probably shouldn't stay, though. The three of you should be alone."

Catherine swallowed her bite, "I'd like you to stay," she agreed, "And the sandwich is great. I haven't had bread in ages. Didn't realize I was so hungry either," her second larger bite had just been taken when a phone rang.

Steve glanced over at his mother and saw her pull a cell phone from her back pocket.

"It's Danny," Doris handed the phone to her son.

"Hello?" Steve answered.

"You do not sound like your mother. Glad I caught you, though. Any chance I can swing by in about ten minutes and pick you up?"

With a great deal of hesitation, Steve shook his head. "Danny, is it important? I'd rather not leave the house tonight."

"You know I wouldn't be asking you to leave Catherine and Evan so soon if it wasn't."

Catherine looked up from her sandwich and eyed Steve as she asked, "Is it about Wo Fat or Lawson?"

"Tell her, yes."

"Yes," Steve conveyed.

"Then you should go," Catherine insisted. "You've got Grover's team watching the house, and Doris will stay," she looked to the older woman again, "Won't you?" The last thing she wanted was for Steve to leave, but Catherine also wanted to find Lawson and Wo Fat more than any of them.

"Absolutely," Doris agreed.

"So go," Catherine directed Steve, shooting him an encouraging smile, "I'd ask to tag along," she added, "But I don't really feel up to it at the moment."

Steve cracked a tiny lopsided grin, impressed by her fortitude, "I'll see you in ten, Danny," he concluded the call.

000

4/21/2014

Steve,

I'm getting fat. Okay, so it's more like bloating.

I know the baby is only about four inches long

so I can't really be that fat. And I know it's

just baby fat, but I've never felt so heavy in

my life. Did that sound really vain of me?

Probably, but I'm not apologizing.

I know it's only going to get worse.

I pretty much eat everything they bring me.

An assures me none of it is poisoned. I have

no choice but to trust her. She's been my

only source of companionship these months,

other than our nugget of course. But it's a

very quiet nugget so far.

Still can't figure An out, though. I feel like

she wants to help me more than she has

been, but she's so quiet and keeps everything

inside. I tried asking her about Billy and she

just got this very sad look.

I tried asking her about her family, parents,

siblings… again with the sad look. I don't know

what else I can do but keep depending on her.

Lawson has only been on the boat twice. I see

him on the screen, though. He spends hours

talking to me about his son. It's rather creepy.

I don't have any idea what he wants, what he

has planned. Not sure he knows either. But I

know there's something coming. I feel pretty

helpless. I hate that. But I also think if I wasn't

pregnant I might have been killed by now. I

don't really know.

And I shouldn't write much about anything

going on here that could be sensitive. I don't

want to risk them taking away this notebook.

Sorry, I'll think of something better to write

next time. I hope.

Love you,

Catherine

5/1/2014

Steve, I miss you.

I miss our morning runs on the beach with you

and Trooper. I think about Trooper a lot. Silly?

I hope she's okay. I hope you've been taking

good care of her, feeding her? You promised.

I miss lying in bed with you and having

Trooper curled up at our feet. I was trying

to teach her how to retrieve your flip-flops

and greet you with them when you got home.

She was so close to getting it down.

I miss working with Billy. Miss being able to

protect Wendy and Molly. I really hope they're

both okay. I hope Billy's doing alright as well.

I worry about him a lot.

I miss being able to pick up a phone and

call my mom just to talk about nothing, or

even to hear her tell me how I should be

married and starting a family by now. She'd

be thrilled to know about our nugget. I

wonder if she's found a CNA job yet?

I miss the sound of my dad's gruff voice

calling me princess. Hearing him blather on

about the latest Navy technology being put

into practice in the field. "They should've

done this better, or should've consulted me

first before doing that." Cracks me up.

I miss visiting you at Five-0. Miss seeing Chin

and Danny there. I've really been missing

Grace a lot, too. I sure could use one of her

happy smiles right now to cheer me. I know

she has a birthday coming up soon. I'll miss

that, too. I'm missing her spring baseball

games, though I'm not sure she was planning

to play again. I miss taking her out for

pancakes, or our surfing dates…

I miss Kono. I hope you guys got her home.

I would do just about anything right now

for some of Kamekona's shrimp scampi.

Have I mentioned how much I miss food

other than the usual chicken, rice and

veggies they bring me? And the nuts.

I want something sugary or deep fried, some

of my grandma's Ragu with fresh pasta. I

haven't had any pasta here. I'd probably even

devour a Twinkie if they left me one. Heck,

I'd settle for some of your goji berry bars.

I miss you. I miss our bed. I miss sex. God, do

I miss sex. What a silly thing to dwell on while

being held captive. Did I mention how horny

pregnancy has made me?

I miss the sound of your breathing when

you're lying next to me. I miss the scruffy

feel of your five o'clock shadow against my

cheek when you kiss me in the morning. I

miss the way you wake me up, staring into

my eyes…

I miss being able to tell you I love you.

I miss you,

C

000

"How's Catherine holding up?" Danny asked.

Steve sat in the passenger seat of the black Camaro, trying not to think about Catherine and Evan being out of his sight at the moment. He knew that was going to happen more and more now that they were back in his life, but it was hard to deal with the separation so soon. "How do you think?"

"Not so good, but putting on a brave front," the detective guessed.

Steve nodded, "You know Catherine," he confirmed.

"I do," Danny replied. "Of course it helps that the two of you are so much alike," he pointed out.

When they pulled up outside of the Medical Examiner's office, Steve sat up and took notice, not having asked questions yet. He silently followed Danny into Max's lab and had to resist the urge to flinch when he saw the man laid out on the table. Steve's right hand reached for the weapon at his hip, but he didn't pull it. He inched closer, staring down at the man. The body's eyes were closed, skin slightly bloated and pale. And there was a large gash at his throat.

"Is this real?" Steve finally glanced up at Max who was standing on the other side of the exam table. "Is that Wo Fat?"

Max nodded, "Yes."

"Coast Guard rescue boat found him floating in the ocean near the Kappa-Shui gui just shortly after the chopper took you and Catherine away," Danny explained to Steve before eyeing Max, "Have you finished the autopsy?" the detective questioned.

"I have," Max replied.

"And?" Steve needed confirmation.

The medical examiner wore a grim expression, seemingly uncomfortable having Wo Fat on his table, even though he was dead, "Cause of death was due to a rupture of the exterior jugular," Max indicated with a motion of his hand waving over Wo Fat's neck, "I found a shard of glass embedded in the wound, as well as a few small splinters of cherry wood."

"Catherine's chopstick," Steve realized, "It was self-defense."

"Without a doubt, commander," Max concurred. "The glass piece was small and crude, but the angle of the wound was well aimed. She seemed to know what she was doing," he spoke with some admiration given what he'd heard about Catherine's ordeal, "The exterior jugular takes longer to bleed out than the interior given its smaller size, but it is also easier to reach than the interior. Roughly six minutes is typical bleed out time for a cut of this sort."

Max looked up at them, "I'd say Wo Fat took slightly longer given that the glass broke off inside the wound and worked sort of as a block," the examiner concluded.

Danny kept quiet as he regarded Steve's apprehensive expression.

"And the body," Steve asked, "You're sure it's Wo Fat?"

"I just ran DNA against the sample you gave me last year, same as what I ran for the paternity test," Max nodded, "It's a positive match," he assured them.

Steve took a breath and let it out slowly, "Now what happens to him?" he glared down at Wo Fat's dead body, taking Max at his word.

"I only submitted my final report about a half hour ago, but the CIA has been monitoring me since Wo Fat was brought in a few hours ago," Max explained, "They immediately put in a request that the body be cremated," the doctor relayed.

"How long?" Steve asked.

"Sir?" Max was uncertain of the meaning behind his words.

"When will that be done?"

Max could only shrug, "Hard to say, commander. He'll likely sit in a morgue drawer until they process him."

"How long?" Steve repeated his question but could see confusion flash behind the doctor's eyes again. "Let me make this clearer for you, Max. I'm not leaving this body for a single second until I watch it go into the crematorium and come out ashes and bones," he knew the sentiment was a gruesome one, but there was no way he was allowing Wo Fat to slip out of his grip again, even if it meant being away from Catherine and Evan for another few hours.

"Understood, sir," the younger man nodded, "I'll make a call."

"Thank you, Max."

Danny watched as the doctor walked into his office and got right on the phone. He turned to Steve, "You sure about staying?" Danny asked his partner, "Because if you want to get out of here, head back home to be with Catherine and Evan… you can take my car and I can handle this for you," he offered.

"I need to know for sure," Steve maintained his unwavering stance. He looked Danny in the eye, "But thank you."

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to stick around anyhow," Danny said.

Steve nodded, grateful of the support, "I'd appreciate that."

000

5/30/2014

Steve,

I've tried to keep these journal entries as

simple as possible, not wanting to tell you

all the details of what goes on here. But it's

getting harder to keep myself in high spirits.

I feel our little nugget kicking all the time now.

Pretty sure he's going to play soccer or be a

Navy SEAL swimmer just like his daddy. Did

I tell you he's a boy yet? I saw it on the latest

ultrasound Pam did for me. I wanted to know,

not like I can decorate a nursery or anything…

but you know how I hate surprises.

I shouldn't say that. I didn't hate this surprise,

our baby boy. I know it's taken me a while to

think of him as anything other than a nugget,

but I hope someday you can read this and

know how very much I love him.

He's not even on the outside yet and all I want

is to protect him. I'm so afraid for him to be

born, not because I'm afraid of the pain or even

leaning how to take care of him. You know I

have a pretty high pain tolerance. And I'm

good at figuring out stuff, I like a challenge.

But I mean… inside my body I can keep him

safe, and outside… I don't know how well I'll be

able to protect him from Lawson or Wo Fat.

My biggest comfort right now is knowing you're

with me in the form of our son, always.

Catherine

000

Steve woke with a start, sitting up straight and blinking rapidly to ward off the darkness.

He glanced up and noticed Catherine staring down at him. "What's wrong?" Steve asked, instantly on alert again. "Why're you awake? Is it Evan? Does he need feeding?"

Her head shook, "I wasn't sure where I was when I woke up," Catherine whispered as she sat atop their bed, her legs crossed in front of her and Evan resting in her arms, "And then when I realized I was in our bed, I thought maybe I was dreaming. You weren't sleeping beside me so I figured…" she gnawed on her lower lip, "I almost stepped on you earlier when I got up to pee." The lamp on her nightstand was lit, softly glowing as she gazed down at him, "Why are you sleeping on the floor?" she wondered.

His eyes closed for a second, "I got home late," Steve yawned and stretched his arms above his head, still blinking away sleep. He stood and stretched his back and shoulders, "I didn't get home until," Steve glanced at his watch. He still hadn't changed out of the clothes he'd been wearing all day and night. They smelled salty and musty from being damp, "About three hours ago. You had Evan on the bed with you, surrounded by the great wall of pillows. I didn't want to disturb either of you, didn't seem to be room for me."

"Sorry," she looked at the baby, his delicate dark eyelashes fanned against pale cheeks, "Since you were gone I wanted him close, figured you'd move him when you got home."

"Oh," Steve reached out to brush a lock of unruly hair behind her ear, still not certain how much contact she wanted or needed from him, "I guess we should buy him a real crib," his fingers moved to lightly brush against Evan's scruff of hair.

She looked at the baby again then up at Steve, "Is he dead?"

"Who?" Steve was worried for a moment since she'd just been glancing at Evan.

"Wo Fat," Catherine said, "That's where you went, isn't it? You told me on the way home about Lawson getting away, so I figured it had to be Wo Fat that Danny called you about."

He never ceased to be impressed by her intuitiveness, realizing she'd only looked to the baby to make sure he was sleeping while they spoke about the case. Both of them clearly hoped to keep the boy in the dark about what was going on. "Yes, Wo Fat is dead."

"I killed him," her words weren't a question.

Steve could only nod.

Her eyes darted around the room for a moment, gazing into the shadows, "I need to find a doctor," she finally said.

"Why?" he was worried by her far-off gaze and the distant tone of her voice, wondering if there'd ever be a time again when he wouldn't worry about her or the baby, "What's going on, Catherine? Do you feel sick again? Is it your head?"

"Not for me," she settled her eyes back on Steve, "We need to take Evan to see a doctor."

"What's wrong with Evan?" Steve reached out to gently touch his son's forehead, an instinctual parental reaction, "He doesn't feel warm at all, has he been fussy?"

"No."

"Then what…"

Catherine bit her lip, "I just…" she sighed, "I want him to see a doctor, I'm worried about… worried if he's okay. There was a friend of An's who took care of us on the ship, a registered nurse," her head ached again as she thought about it all, "She was kind, but I had no other choice but to trust her. And now I want to know for sure that he's okay. I just don't know the best way to find a good doctor."

He only had to mull over her concern for a few seconds before he smiled reassuringly, "Danny."

"Pretty sure Danny's not a doctor," Catherine responded with a hesitant look, "Unless I was away a lot longer than I thought."

Steve's grin widened a little, "Grace still sees a pediatrician, right? Maybe? I'm not actually sure," he shrugged, "Doesn't matter, because Rachael must take Charlie to see a pediatrician, so we ask Danny to ask Rachael who they see. We trust Rachael, don't we? We know she wouldn't take Charlie to just any doctor, hmm?"

She nodded, "That's a really good idea," Catherine felt a tear threaten to fall and felt stupid for feeling so emotional. "I'm glad you're…"

"Hey," he did his best to stay strong, reaching out to brush away her tear, "Evan's okay. I know he is. And I'll call Danny first thing in the morning, yes?"

Another nod was given, not really trusting her voice yet.

"Okay," Steve bent down and gently pried the sleeping baby from her arms, "Time to sleep in the crib again," he whispered to his son as he walked across the room. Steve kissed the baby's forehead, "Sleep tight, champ," he whispered before nestling the little guy into the crib. When he returned to their bed, Catherine was curled on her side atop the covers. He lay down beside her, facing her, "Still a few hours of darkness, you should sleep," Steve tried to encourage her.

"Not sure I can," Catherine confessed, "I did a little earlier while you were gone, but… I keep thinking about everything and it's so… it's kinda too much. I don't think I can let myself relax after being on guard for so long," she nervously confessed her fear.

He moved in closer so she could lie her head against his chest, "At least close your eyes," Steve kissed her atop the head, his fingers caressing tiny circles along her robe covered shoulder. "Close your eyes and think about…" his eyes slid shut, "Think about dancing. Or throwing nuts at me," he smiled.

Catherine followed his lead, closing her eyes.

She tried to rely on yoga meditations to help her relax, but it was Steve's presence that helped her the most, and she smiled at the memory of the way they'd met. The grouchy way she'd thrown an almond at him. But also the way they'd danced that night. She couldn't help her memories from slipping further to their second night together, "You smell like the ocean," she whispered against his chest, "Like the night in Coronado when we watched the sunset on the beach and I kissed you for the first time."

"Not the only thing we did for the first time that night, that was a much more romantic night than this," he recalled, "I should really take a shower before I start to mildew."

"No," she gripped his side, "This night is just as good as that one, maybe better. Our son is here with us, we're together. All I need is in this room. Don't leave."

His lips pressed against her hair again, "I'm not going anywhere," Steve whispered.

000

6/16/2014

Steve, I'm really worried.

I was just reading in one of these pregnancy

baby books about how pregnant and nursing

women should avoid eating nuts!

Are you kidding me? Why didn't I read that

about three months ago? Why am I already

such a failure at this mothering thing?

Lawson always leaves me nuts. Peanuts or

walnuts. Cashews. Almonds. What if he's been

doing it on purpose? Maybe he knows about

the dangers?

They've been a comfort to me, because of the

way we met and… but now… apparently a lot

of kids these days are being born with peanut

and other nut allergies. Oh, and I just realized

I was still drinking up to the time I left for

Russia, before I knew I was pregnant. What if

our nugget is born with a swollen head or… or

only one arm or leg, or maybe extra ears?

An thinks I'm freaking out about this way too

much. But how can I not freak out? This is my

son we're talking about, my tiny little nugget.

And all I can think about is little Ben. And

even about Lawson's son, Matthew.

I know Lawson is crazy, but if I lost my son I

can't help wonder if it would destroy me, too.

I have no idea how my parents ever got over

losing Ben. No idea. If they loved him even

half as much as I love our nugget… I…

Do all mother's worry about this stuff? This

sucks, not like I didn't already have enough

to worry about. I worry every night I go to

sleep that I might not wake up, wondering

when and where Lawson will come at me.

I'm afraid the nugget is the only reason he

hasn't killed me yet.

Sorry, I know I promised to keep these

entries light… but I'm pretty sure I'll be

crying myself to sleep tonight. Fucking

hormones and stupid books meant to be

helpful.

And I should maybe stop swearing now that I

know the nugget can hear me. Especially if

if he has extra ears.

Cath

000

Steve held the clip board on his lap, filling in the form as Catherine supplied most of the answers. "I'll put my insurance information," he shrugged, "I guess."

She nodded, "Since I'm dead, that's probably best."

He cringed, but went about filling in the form, "Name? Are we going with Evan McGarrett? Or Rollins? Some sort of hyphenated thing maybe? McGarrett-Rollins," Steve realized there were still so many things they hadn't talked about, conversations they should've had while she was pregnant, names and insurance being the least of things. "Maybe we could just combine our names into one, McGarrins, McRollett… what do you think?"

"I want his last name to be McGarrett, just McGarrett," Catherine smiled.

Steve couldn't help the proud, puffed-out chest and grin that resulted from her decision, "Middle name?" he finally asked, "Does he even have a birth certificate?"

Her head shook, "I think we can get one issued here. I'm not even sure where we were when he was born," Catherine glanced around the waiting room. It was shared with a few other doctors so there were women and kids seated nearby. Catherine hoped they couldn't overhear her and Steve's strange conversation. "He doesn't have a middle name. I wasn't even sure you'd like the name Evan. If you don't we can change it. I mostly call him nugget," she smiled at the little boy snuggled against her shoulder.

"Evan's a good name," he replied, "For my dad, right?"

Catherine nodded again, "You should pick a middle name for him since I got to choose Evan."

Steve's brow crinkled, "You sure? I could just write anything on this form and it would be legal? I could give him the middle name pookie-bear?" he joked.

Her eyes rolled, grateful that some things between them hadn't changed at all. "It probably won't be legal on that form, but we'll have to figure out all the legal stuff soon."

He only thought it over for a second before writing in a middle name. Steve showed her the form, "What do you think?"

She smiled, "I never would've guessed you'd pick that name," her sarcasm was out in full force.

"Think you know me so well, huh?" Steve challenged.

"I do," Catherine replied.

His head bobbed, knowing that was true, "Date of birth," he read the line and paused. For some reason nothing else the last few days had upset him quite as much as just reading that simple line of text. Steve turned his attention back to Catherine, "I don't even know when my son was born," he spoke in a whisper.

"September 5th," Catherine told him, one hand resting against his forearm. She knew she could never take away the pain of his not being there for the baby's birth - his wanting to be there and her wanting him to be there.

A nurse called them before they could finish the form. She guided them back to an exam room where they only waited a minute before the doctor arrived.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Theodora Bearden-Takahashi," the woman greeted them.

Catherine was instantly put at ease by the doctor's kind smile so early on a Monday morning.

The slight woman appeared to be in her late thirties, caramel hued skin, dark hair and brown eyes. She wore a bright and whimsical, kid-friendly, lab coat that was covered in an underwater scene of tropical fish. "Catherine Rollins," she introduced, "And this is my… Steve," Catherine nodded her head toward him, "And the nugget here," her eyes went to the baby in her arms who was wide awake for the event and outfitted in a navy blue and white striped outfit with an embroidered anchor design across the chest, "Evan."

"Well, hello there, Evan," the doctor smiled again, gently touching his arm. "It's nice to meet you and your parents." She looked to Catherine and Steve once more, "Since my name is such a mouthful most of my little patients just call me Doctor Teddy Bear," she explained, "Evan probably won't get that one down for several more months, though."

"Thank you for being able to see us today," Steve expressed his gratitude. "I didn't expect that."

"I'm just glad I had the free spot in my morning for you after Rachael called and told me what you needed," she replied, "Rachael and Stan are good friends. Stan and my husband work together," she went on to explain, "And then there's Danny Williams, he's quite the character. I don't think I've ever seen a father get so pale while watching his daughter receive a shot. I thought he was going to pass out," the woman chuckled softly, "Grace is a star patient."

Steve grinned, "We like her a lot," he agreed.

"So, I understand that Evan hasn't seen a pediatrician before?" the doctor looked to Catherine, "May I?" she asked, reaching for the baby.

The blue and white scarf was wrapped about Catherine's neck again and she consciously fiddled with it after handing Evan over to the doctor, "There were some extenuating circumstances," she bit her lip nervously, hoping the woman didn't think of her as a horrible mother.

"Rachael mentioned a little of what you went through," Takahashi wore a sympathetic smile as she went about examining the baby, "You had some medical care?"

"A nurse," Catherine nodded.

"And how old is Evan?" she could've looked at his form, but asked instead.

Catherine swallowed, still nervous, "He'll be twelve weeks old this coming Friday," she replied as Steve took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"It's almost your three month birthday," the doctor smiled at Evan again and the boy returned her grin. A stream of drool ran down his chin and Catherine stepped forward, wiping it off with her left hand. When she saw the doctor notice her missing finger, Catherine self-consciously pulled her hand away. The pediatrician unsnapped his outfit, "This might feel a little cold, Evan," she warned in a tender voice before pressing her stethoscope against his milky white chest.

"Do you think his feet are too big?" Steve blurted out.

The doctor did her best not to laugh, "His feet are a little larger compared to most babies I see his age. But that just means he'll have great balance when he starts to walk. Probably he'll be tall like you, although it's hard to say for sure. But it's certainly nothing to be worried about." She snapped his outfit back up, "His heart and lung sounds are very good. Nurse weighed and measured him, all within normal range."

"Are you sure?" Catherine asked.

"About what in particular?" the doctor took her question seriously, not offended by it.

She pressed her lips together for a moment, but felt Steve's hand keep a tight grip on hers, "Um, his heart," Catherine let the words out. "It's just… my baby brother died at six months of a heart defect that went undetected," she explained, "My parents told me it wasn't genetic, very rare, but now that I have a child of my own, a son…"

Takahashi nodded, "You're worried," she easily gathered, "Completely understandable. I've referred a few of my small patients over to a pediatric cardiologist after discovering irregular heartbeats. But I didn't detect a heart murmur of any sort just now. I honestly don't think you have anything to be worried about, but we can certainly monitor him closely for a few months if that will put you at ease. Or I can arrange for Evan to get an echocardiogram this week if you're really concerned. That's up to you."

"So you don't recommend that…" Steve tried to digest all the information, "That echo cardio test?"

"It's not an invasive test," the doctor replied, "But I don't feel it's necessary."

Catherine and Steve shared a look, "Do you think I'm worrying too much?" she asked him.

"No," his head shook, "I'm still new to this parenting worry thing," he shrugged, "Maybe I don't worry enough? But I trust your instinct on this. If you want him to have the test we'll go for it. If not, I'm okay with the monitoring closely option." Steve turned to the doctor, "Which means what exactly?"

"I see him every few weeks just to listen to his little ticker," the woman explained as she handed Evan back to his mom, "And you keep a close eye on him. If there are any signs of troubled respiratory issues, if he stops gaining weight or isn't interested in eating. How is his eating? Do you breast feed or bottle?"

"He eats well," Catherine replied, almost laughing as the boy began to root around as soon as his face came into contact with her chest. "Breast fed, mostly. A bottle the last few days since I wasn't around," she concluded.

"Does he have much gas or spitting up, any diarrhea?"

Her head shook, "No, he's a good eater. None of those problems," Catherine reported.

"From all I'm hearing, Evan seems to be a healthy baby," the doctor declared as the boy let out a gleeful gurgle and was grinning as he looked up at Catherine, "And very happy."

Steve eyed Catherine again, "So, the heart test?"

She chewed her lip for another moment, "I think we'll just watch him closely for now," Catherine finally decided.

"Alright," Steve agreed, knowing that was going to be the case no matter what. He had a feeling she wasn't going to let Evan out of her sight for months, if not years to come.

"One last thing, did Evan have a round of vaccines at two months?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, the nurse who took care of us did those," Catherine recalled. "I had a vaccine card, but…" she trailed off, realizing that information had been on the ship.

"I trust you," she grabbed a chart, "So, I'd like to see him again in two weeks and we'll check his heart for you. Then again for a fourth month check-up and another fun round of vaccines for Evan," Takahashi handed Catherine a card, "And if you have any questions or concerns in between those times, that card has my cell number mainly for emergencies. But it also has a twenty-four seven infant care hotline. There's always a nurse on duty specifically to answer questions for parents. Don't ever hesitate to call."

"Thank you," Steve extended his hand to shake the woman's.

"You're welcome," the doctor smiled, "We good?" she asked, seeing them both nod. "Alright, I'll see you next time," a wave was given to the baby before she exited the exam room.

Steve grabbed the diaper bag and the three of them left the exam room to set an appointment time for two weeks out.

"I liked her a lot," Catherine revealed as they walked across the parking lot.

Steve nodded, "So did I," he stood by the passenger side of his truck with them, ready to open the door and situate Evan in his car seat. But he paused to watch Catherine, the way she stood still for a moment beside the truck, seeming to enjoy the sun on her face, "You know we're really close to the beach. We could take Evan on a walk, or I could take you out to lunch," he offered, "Maybe shopping. Don't you need more of those nursing bras?"

Her head shook; eyes downcast again as she opened the truck door, "Can we just go home?"

"Yeah, sure," Steve agreed. His worry increased as they silently made their way home, "Maybe we should celebrate Evan's check-up?" he finally broke the silence, "I don't know how exactly, but we could have a picnic outside on our beach. Enjoy some sunshine?" Steve suggested.

"I'm tired," was all Catherine replied.

They'd shared some smiles and goofing around in the doctor's office, but Steve could see that moment had slipped by. He was worried about her, knowing she hadn't slept much the night before. He could tell she was still on edge, glancing over her shoulder as they exited the truck at home, keeping a tight hold on the baby as they entered the house.

As soon as the door closed Steve heard a familiar sound. Trooper came trotting in from the back room to greet them, her tags gangling as she dropped Steve's flip-flops in front of him and sniffed his shoes. The yellow Lab moved on to lick his hands as Steve squatted to greet her. "How are you, girl?" Steve asked in a soft voice. "Did you have fun hanging out at Mick's place? You've been a real trooper, haven't you?" he patted the dog.

Trooper suddenly stopped loving on him and stood at attention when she noticed Catherine.

The dog barked loudly at her.

"Troop, that's Catherine," Steve tried to calm the animal as she continued to bark, "I know she's been gone for a while, but you remember Catherine, don't you?"

Catherine held Evan with one arm and reached out to the dog, "It's okay if you forgot," she said to the animal, "I didn't forget you, though, Trooper." The dog's tail wagged furiously when she heard Catherine's voice and she jumped up, nearly toppling Catherine and the baby over. "Whoa, easy there," Catherine smiled as she knelt down. Trooper covered her face in doggy licks, but she kept her greeting civil enough so as not to disturb Evan.

"She remembers you," Steve grinned.

Doris entered from the kitchen, "Mick dropped her off just after you left this morning, said she was very well behaved. So," she aimed a thumb over her shoulder, "I have a pasta casserole in the oven for lunch, maybe dinner if you want. Timer is set, but I'm going to head home for a while because you three need some space."

Catherine stepped forward and gave Doris a one armed hug, Evan still in her embrace. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Doris smiled, but her eyes turned serious. "I couldn't get ahold of either of your parents last night, but I finally spoke to your mom just about a half hour ago," she revealed, "There was some crying and a few minutes of disbelief, but she's probably booking a flight as we speak."

"No," Catherine replied. "I don't want her to… I don't want her to come."

"Cath," Steve rubbed a hand across her shoulders, "She wants to see you and we have the extra space, she can stay with us."

"I said, no," Catherine pulled away from him and edged toward the stairs, "I don't want my parents here or Mary," she maintained, "If you talk to any of them again tell them not to visit, okay? I need to check Evan's diaper," her last words were said half way up the stairs, Trooper following her.

Steve looked to his mother. "I don't know…"

"More time," Doris offered, "I'll call Elizabeth back and tell her… well, it won't be easy to tell her to stay away. But I'm sure I'll find a diplomatic way to explain it."

He nodded, "Thanks, mom."

000

8/14/2014

Steve,

Trying to just keep these entries about the

simple stuff again. Something for you to

read some day and be a part of this

pregnancy in some small way at least.

Do you remember all that sleep I told you

about getting those first few months? Well,

it was nice while it lasted.

I walk around my cabin a lot and I've been

getting outside to walk on the deck for

about an hour a day now. I also do yoga for

several hours every day, try to keep active

since there's not a lot else to be done here.

The little nugget must like all the movement.

It seems to lull him to sleep. But the second

I decide to settle down and get some sleep

he wakes up!

Apparently he thinks the hours between

midnight and 0700 are the perfect time to

practice ice skating across my bladder. I must

have peed at least three times in the last

twenty minutes before I started writing

this entry to you.

I can only guess this is some sort of primer

for the next year of my life before the nugget

starts sleeping through the night. Be warned,

I may have terrible bags under my eyes the

next time you see me.

I hope there's a next time. Even after all these

months apart I can't seem to stop hoping. It

feels kind of like a deployment some days.

I know we've gone for stretches like this

before, being apart. It's different though,

lonelier for sure.

There's so much I want to share with you,

but my words never seem enough.

Miss you,

Cath

000

The baby's cry roused him from a not-so-deep sleep.

Steve rolled over and was about to get up when he spotted Catherine hunched over the small crib. He stayed put, watching as she lifted the little guy out and placed him high against her shoulder. Steve had come to find out in just a few days that the boy liked to be carried at shoulder height more than being snuggled like a baby. Evan enjoyed being able to look around, his eyes always seeming so interested in his surroundings.

He sat up a little, leaning on one elbow. "Hungry?" Steve asked.

Her head shook, "Just wet and uncomfortable," Catherine replied as she brought the boy over to their bed.

"Why don't you let me change him," Steve offered, "And you can go back to sleep until he wakes up hungry."

"I'm already up," she dismissed, laying Evan atop the bed. "I've been doing this for months without you."

Steve was hurt by her words, but tried not to react to them.

Trooper looked up from her spot at the foot of the bed. The curious canine inched toward Catherine as she began to change Evan's wet diaper, "Sorry, Troop," Catherine spoke softly to the dog, "You're not the baby anymore," she pointed out, "When I was in Russia I saw a lot of stray dogs, even thought I might bring one home with me, a new friend for you to hang out with. Instead I brought Evan home," Catherine smiled down at the boy who kicked his legs, happy to be free of a diaper for a moment.

The dog gently nudged Evan with her nose and the boy reached for Trooper's yellow fur, grasping a small handful.

Catherine pulled his hand away, smiling at Trooper for not reacting to the baby's actions, "I hope the two of you can be good friends. I hope you'll watch out for him, protect him. Do you think you can do that, girl?" she asked, "I know how smart you are, the way you knew about Billy being sick. Steve told me that. And you learned the trick I taught you."

Steve listened to her talk to the dog, wishing she'd talk to him instead.

The last few days and nights had been difficult for all three of them as they tried to settle into some sort of routine, but he knew Catherine was feeling the most stress. He heard her up at all hours of the night, not just when the baby needed her. Steve had heard her showering at 2 a.m. the second night she'd been home. The third night he'd listened to her pacing the room by herself. Heard her rattling around in the kitchen downstairs, cleaning and cooking at all hours.

"He's not crying right now," Steve noticed as he finally got out of bed. Evan had a clean diaper and seemed content, "Put him back in the crib and we can talk."

She didn't acknowledge what he'd said, though she did put Evan in the crib and covered him up. Catherine headed toward her side of the bed, side stepping Steve in the process, "We don't need to talk about anything, and I'm tired."

"Tough," Steve replied as he caught her by the hand.

"Tough?" Catherine was surprised by his response, glaring at the way he clutched her hand. "Let go."

He dropped her hand, "Talk to me, Catherine, please."

Her mouth opened and closed but no words would form. She knew what he wanted from her, but her head shook, "There's too much," Catherine finally whispered.

"Then one piece," he tried to tread lightly, "Something small."

"None of it was small, Steve…" she sighed and shook it off, "I'm thirsty."

Catherine fled the room, headed downstairs. He didn't let her off so easily, following after her. Steve stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her pour a glass of apple juice with shaky hands, "Catherine, please," he walked over and finished pouring for her. She sagged against the counter, looking up at him, "Just one thing, tell me one small thing," Steve hoped something small might get the flood gates to open.

She grabbed the juice and exited the kitchen.

Steve followed her again, watching as she opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. He stood outside with her, gazing up at the stars for a moment.

"Falling," she sighed. "I remember falling… or feeling like I was falling. I wasn't really falling, though," Catherine tried to make sense of the memory. "I was on the plane in Paris. I'd just talked to you and the plane taxied, but then we stopped again. They were deicing. I could see the spray of it on the window where I was sitting. Then I had to pee," she recalled, her eyes closing for a moment, "I got up and told Lenore and her husband I'd be right back…" Catherine sighed, "And after that… it felt like I was falling for a while. Drugged, I guess?"

"That's when they took you from the plane?" Steve wondered, "When you were still on the ground? That makes more sense than my parachuting theory," he realized. "They must've drugged you on your way to the restroom, or after you…" he thought it out more clearly, "They probably took their time with the deicing since it was a cover for the explosives they planted. They must have snuck you out through the cargo hold… made it seem like part of the maintenance going on," Steve guessed.

"I saw it," Catherine whispered.

He refocused on her, "What?" Steve asked.

"The plane crash," she sucked in a breath, "I watched it explode, saw the flames… heard the screaming. I know I didn't really experience that, only saw the news reports Lawson showed me, but at night when I closed my eyes I could hear them in my head. Leonor Silva, the ambassador… her husband and their kids; the twins Ines and Luis… they were just twelve. Ines was a figure skater, wanted to be in the Olympics someday. We'd been watched the skating earlier that morning before everything…"

She looked at him. "I could hear their screams in my head, over and over. They're all dead because of me."

"No, Catherine," he felt bad for making her talk, "You can't put that on yourself…"

"Why not?" Catherine clutched her glass, fearing she might break it from squeezing so tightly, "Lawson was after me on that flight. He killed them all and I wasn't even on the plane, I… why… why couldn't he have done it some other way? Killed me, just me?"

"None of this is your fault, Catherine," Steve insisted.

"A hundred and fourteen people are dead because he was trying to get to me, Steve. That feels like my fault," Catherine whispered, "You, my parents, everyone I care most about believed I was dead for almost a year. And I don't want my… I don't want Mary or my parents on any flights until we find him. Okay? Will you promise me? Promise none of them come to visit until Lawson is locked up or dead."

Steve nodded, finally understanding why she didn't want anyone to visit, "I promise," he agreed.

Evan's cries could be heard through the open door.

They walked together up the stairs, "I've got him," Steve picked the baby up and kissed his forehead before he walked the boy over to Catherine. He settled down beside them, watching her nurse their son. Trooper cuddled up again at the foot of the family bed.

"I'm fine," Catherine said as she looked into Steve's stormy blue eyes, seeing the concern that still lingered there, "I am," she tried to assure him, "I'm sorry for how I snapped at you earlier." Her gaze turned upon Evan, "Pueblo," she spoke softly, caressing the boy's cheek as he suckled, "Navy ship that was captured by North Korean forces in January of 1968. One crew member killed and the other eight-two held for eleven months, starved and tortured…"

"Cath, that was completely different…"

"I had a nice room, big cabin… huge bed," she'd said something similar to him before, "They fed me well, I was able to take care of Evan. I wasn't starved."

He sighed, "How can you say that? Yes, they fed you, but…" Steve was exasperated, "They tortured you, Catherine. That collar, keeping you locked under guard…"

"You have me guarded," Catherine shot back, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. "I look out the windows and I see police officers wandering around our front yard, back yard. It feels the same. I know it shouldn't. I know you just want to protect me and Evan, but it," she sighed, "It still feels like a prison."

Steve wished he had some better solution, but all he could say was, "I'm sorry. But until we find Lawson, they stay."

000

9/5/2014

Hey butthead,

I'm so upset with you right now and I know

I shouldn't be, but I can't help it.

Our son was born this morning at 0633.

Pam weighed him in at 7lb. 13oz.

Not as big as I imagined he'd be, but he's

22 inches long! And lean like you. Guess

that helped me push him out in only about

fifteen minutes once I hit the full ten cm

dilation. Pam says that's impressive, but I

just feel tired and completely overwhelmed.

And I'm pissed at you for not being here. You

were supposed to hold my hand, and wipe my

sweaty brow and do all those things expectant

father's do in the movies.

I remember when a buddy in my Navy unit,

Spencer Morgan, had to be in Kabul with us

when his daughter was born. He tried to

pretend that he was okay with it, spouting

off about duty and country. But all I could see

in his eyes was regret.

I'm sure you'll do the same thing if I'm ever

able to introduce you to our son. You'll try to

say it doesn't matter that you missed this

moment, but I'll know it's a lie. Because it

matters to me that you missed it. If that

makes me selfish, I don't give a shit.

I want you here.

I want you to hold your son and see how much

he looks like you. But you're not here and I hate

you for that.

I hate you!

9/6/2014

Steve,

I hope you know I don't hate you.

I was upset earlier and not doing a very good

job of hiding it. I've read in some books about

the nasty things women say when they've in

labor. Guess it works for right after labor, too?

I haven't slept at all for nearly two days.

I'm writing this just after midnight while I nurse

the nugget. Already learning that mommy multi-

tasking thing, I suppose?

I named the nugget, Evan. It was in a baby name

book An gave me. It's a form of the name John.

I have a feeling you'd approve, I hope you do. If not

we can just call him nugget. He doesn't seem to

mind that nickname.

Actually, in his eighteen hours of life on the

outside, the only thing he seems to care

about so far are my breasts.

It feels entirely unreal sitting here nursing him

when just a day ago he was still inside me. I'm

rambling now and my crayon isn't very sharp.

I need sleep. I'll try to get some when he's done.

I don't hate you, Steve. It's just so hard to look

at him and see you.

Catherine (tired, but proud new mommy)

000

Catherine was awoken. Not by the baby, but by Steve's gentle voice.

She turned over in bed and spotted Steve's shadowy profile standing by the crib, his muscular arms cradling their infant son.

"You really are a champ, aren't you?" he spoke softly to the baby, "You've made it through the week with me as your dad. I know I'm still not as good as your mom at all this stuff, but thanks for hanging in there with me. And the best thing is you're too little to know I haven't been around for you until now. I hope you won't ever have to remember a time when I wasn't there for you. I work a dangerous job, though, and that makes me worry that I might get hurt and leave you and your mom on your own," Steve confessed.

"I'm going to do my best to make sure that never happens."

He kissed the boy's cheek, "I love you, Evan."

"I told your mom I was gonna tell her I loved her so much that she'd be sick of hearing it, but I haven't," Steve realized. "I don't know why it's so hard for me to say those words. For a long time I wanted to be sure I loved her before I said them. But how do you know you're in love if you never have been before? I'll tell you how, champ. You can picture the future with them. You ache when they're away, or when they're hurt," he expressed. "You try to comfort them even when they don't want to be comforted. You never give up on them."

"Yes, your old man is sentimental. Who would've guessed?"

Steve smiled at the boy. "I love her."

"I might forget to say those words, but I always feel them. I just hope that's enough for us to make it through this, and anything else that's thrown our way."

000

10/13/2014

Steve,

I just realized you're never going to know what

your son looked like the day he was born. He's

a month old now and changing every day.

I don't have a camera to take pictures for you,

but do you remember that painting class I

took after being stationed at Pearl-Hickman?

I think I only saved one painting when I

moved in with you, a small beach landscape.

They were all landscapes. I've always been

afraid to try capturing facial features, but this

past month spent staring at Evan for hours on

end has made me realize that faces are just a

different sort of landscape.

So this is what I drew for you. It's not great

since all I had were crayons. At least that's

the excuse I'm going with. But I want you to

know this is the landscape of our newborn

son's face.

Not as good as a photograph, but if I'm lucky

enough to see you again then I'll try to describe

it in better detail for you.

Love you,

Cath

000

Danny sat across from his partner, "You look tired."

"I feel tired," Steve agreed, leaning back against his desk chair.

"Figured you'd take more than a week off," Danny's brow arched.

"Catherine suggested that I go to work this morning," Steve replied, "Okay, so it might've been more like a direct order," he admitted, "We had… kind of a fight last night. She didn't seem too mad this morning, though. I'm pretty sure she just wants us to find Lawson," he was still somewhat frustrated about their fight, but also kind of upset about the way he'd pushed her, "The last thing I want to do is fight with her right now, Danny."

"After all she went through, and an adjustment period with a new baby… that's tricky territory," Danny tried to commiserate, "But there's always making up to look forward to."

"Yeah, we haven't even touched that subject yet," Steve sighed.

"Sex?"

"Sex," he confirmed.

Danny could tell his friend needed some coaxing, "Because of Wo Fat?"

Steve's hands balled into fists despite knowing the man was dead, "The thought of him ever laying a single finger on her makes my skin crawl, but… whatever happened between them, or didn't happen," he still wasn't entirely clear on that either, "I love her, Danny. Nothing will ever change that. Not her being with Wo Fat. Not her trying to push me away. Even when I thought she might be having his kid all I wanted was for her to be home."

"You tell her all that?"

"No," Steve admitted, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Well, a lot of things," Danny joked, "But I'd say being human is number one. Catherine's had a heck of rough time the last several months, but so have you."

He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, "There've been these moments this past week when we're joking, teasing each other. Or sharing some memory from our past, the way we met, my promise to clean for her in my dress uniform… and she'll smile, and it feels like everything is okay like it used to be," Steve paused, "But I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know. I feel like she's being way too okay with everything, trying to act like it's no big deal that she's home."

"And you want her to be a damsel in distress and fall into your arms and cry: Oh, Steve, what would I ever do without you, my hero?"

"Are you done?" Steve shook his head at Danny.

A remorseful nod was given, "Sorry."

"You know Catherine isn't like that," Steve stressed, "I admire the heck out of her for being a strong, independent, feisty woman. I'm not the kind of guy who has issues with being in a relationship with a woman who can kick my butt. If that was the case I never would've asked her on a second date," he conveyed, "I don't think many women could've gone through what she did and still be able to smile, even a little."

"You're right, Catherine's tough. But she's also human like you, my friend," Danny pointed out.

"I've got guards watching the house, but there's been no sign of Lawson anywhere on the island. Nothing from An. Evan's up every three hours to eat or be changed or both. Catherine doesn't want to go anywhere, stays in the house. She doesn't want her parents or Mary to visit because that bastard's got her freaked about airplanes. I can't get much out of her about An, or Lawson. She probably knows something that could help, whether she realizes it or not, but I don't wanna pressure her," he shrugged, "And I just keep thinking all her calm behavior is going to blow up at some point. There's likely to be fallout after all she went through."

"Maybe," Danny shrugged, "Or maybe you two are more alike than I ever realized before. You both seem to bottle up your emotions, lay low, always prepared to fight another day. You need to stop being so hard on yourselves."

"You think she's following my lead?" Steve wondered.

Danny's shoulders rose again, "You said it. Maybe if you'd actually read that conversations to have with your partner book I gave you…" he was only half joking.

Steve exhaled wearily and he ran both hands through his short hair until they rested at the back of his neck. He froze for a second, not feeling the chain that he'd worn for so many months, "Catherine's ring," he looked to Danny, realizing it was gone for the first time in a week, "What happened to the ring?"

It took the detective a second to catch on, "Oh, right," Danny nodded, "Last I saw it, uh… Grover had it."

"Grover?" Steve's eyes widened a little, "Why does Grover have Catherine's ring?"

"He put it in an evidence bag after you went missing at An's house. I'd just been conked over the head and was worried about finding you so I didn't bother stopping him."

Steve groaned, "Maybe it's a sign."

"What sorta sign?" Danny eyed him suspiciously.

"That Catherine and I really shouldn't get married."

"You don't believe that, babe."

"Don't I?" Steve questioned, "Look at everything that's happened since I first got this idea in my head to ask her and tell me there's not some bigger force conspiring against us."

"Or it could just be that you suck at romance," Danny offered, but noticed his partner's forlorn look, "Come on… signs and forces conspiring against you?" Danny frowned, "I think sleep deprivation is definitely getting the best of you, pal. Do you remember how you told Sam at the antique shop that you didn't believe in fate? Now I know I tried to ward you off the marriage path, and Catherine telling you she didn't want to be married threw you a little. But you asked her, right? You said you asked her over the phone on Valentine's Day."

"I forgot about that," Steve took a calmer breath, "I think she forgot, too," he remembered their conversation on the Kappa, her telling Wo Fat and Lawson about turning down his proposal and how he'd mentioned not getting around to asking her, "That wasn't a real proposal, though, it was me missing her like crazy."

"So do it for real. If it's what you want, go for it."

"This isn't the right time, Danny."

"When is it ever going to be the right time?" his partner countered, "Maybe when Evan goes off to college or starts having kids of his own? Screw the whole right time stuff. You love her, so just ask her you big dope," Danny huffed. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked out to see Catherine walking into HQ, "Oh, look… Catherine's here. Maybe it's a sign," Danny waved a hand toward her. "Strong with you, the force is, Jedi McGarrett," he quipped.

Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled. He quickly made his way out to greet Catherine, a tender kiss pressed against her lips, "Did you drive here?" he asked, seeing that she had Evan snuggled against her chest in the baby sling he'd worn the other day. "Hiya, champ," Steve said to the boy.

"I had one of the officers guarding the house drive me," Catherine explained, setting the diaper bag atop the surface computer, "Doris and Mick stayed behind with Trooper. They're setting up some baby swing for Evan," she shrugged, "I'm starting to rethink Doris in granny mode. It's getting a little strange."

"Hi, Catherine," Danny joined them. He looked to Steve, "No offense, but she makes that baby sling fashion work better than you."

"Hey, Danny," Catherine smiled.

"How's your head?" the detective waved a hand at her forehead.

"Better," she nodded, "How's Grace?"

"My little monkey couldn't be better," he beamed proudly, "Just found out she got an A on the science project she finished before Thanksgiving break."

"Smart kid, wonder where she gets that from?" Steve remarked, noticing the way Evan was sucking on Catherine's left pinky finger, "I'm pretty sure Mick bough a pacifier along with everything else in the store," he said.

Chin and Kono walked down the hall to join the group, standing on the other side of the computer table.

"The dangers of reading too much," Catherine replied to Steve, "I decided before Evan was born that I didn't want him using one of those things," she explained, "I read something about orthodontia issues due to pacifier use, and kids cost enough without adding braces into the mix. I had to wear them for two years and it sucked," she added, "I'd also like to minimize his chewing or sucking on plastic, if that's even possible these days."

"Nice one, environment-friendly mommy. I like that," he grinned.

Her nose scrunched, "Don't do that."

"Do what? Compliment you?"

"No, refer to me as mommy. I don't want to be those parents."

"What parents?" he was still confused.

She smiled down at the baby, his brown eyes gazing up at her, "You know, the ones who call each other mom and dad, their identities getting lost somewhere in the over-romanticizing of parenthood. You're Steve," she pointed a finger at him, "And I'm Catherine," her hand rested against her chest, "And only Evan gets to call us mommy and daddy someday. Got it?"

"Understood, Lieutenant," Steve agreed.

"Good," Catherine reached for the diaper bag and pulled a folded piece of paper from a side pocket, "Here," she handed it to Steve.

He carefully unfolded the paper, "What's this?"

"A sketch I drew," she said, "Not a very good one, but…" Catherine took the drawing from Steve and flattened it out on top of the computer surface for the others to see. The pencil drawing was simple, a rounded face, ears, nose and eyes, thin lips and shoulder length hair, "Best I could do."

"Who is she?" Kono asked, able to tell it was a woman.

"Her name is Pam, if that's her real name," Catherine wasn't sure, "I don't have a last name. She's the nurse who took care of Evan and me on the ship. Red hair, green eyes, short, maybe 5'-2", very pale complexion, kinda pointed nose, eyes are close-set. I'm pretty sure she and An are friends," Catherine described. "I know it's not much to go on, but if An is hanging around this island maybe Pam lives close and is helping her out, giving her a place to stay."

"You think An is still nearby after shooting Billy?" Chin inquired.

"The Kappa exploded," Catherine stated, "I doubt Lawson had anything to do with that. I don't think he'd give the ship up so easily. It was useful for smuggling, and for the baby auctions, worth a heck of a lot of money, too. A bomb was always part of our plan. An knows chemical compounds, electrical engineering. She designed that collar I wore. An was meant to plant a bomb after I got Evan away and lured Wo Fat and Lawson back together."

"Okay," Steve went along with her reasoning, "So, say she was on the boat to plant the explosives. You think she got off before the explosion? How?"

"Could've been her who took the yacht to safety, instead of Lawson," Kono offered.

"Or they fled together," Chin put in another option as he studied the sketch, "This is good. I can circulate this."

"We know An grew up traveling around with her parents," Catherine continued, "A lot like I did. It's not the greatest for making friends. You tend to forget people," she glanced around the table, seeing her closest friends there to support her, "After you found out Cathleen and Marty were killed by Melanie Lawson, I never even put it together that she was Nick's daughter. I'd forgotten about her. Lawson was right, our family forgot about them."

Steve pressed a hand against the small of her back, "It happens, Cath. You can't keep blaming yourself for all this," he gently echoed that sentiment, hoping she'd believe it.

Catherine took a breath, unable to ever forget about Nick Lawson. She did her best to shake off the feeling of betrayal he'd caused, "If this nurse, Pam, really is a friend I'd say to start searching An's college years," she suggested, "That's one place you stay put for a while. Kinda like the Navy was where I started making friends," she was immediately reminded of Billy.

"Good thinking," Chin acknowledged, already setting his search parameters with what he knew about An's schooling over the years.

His hand still at her back, Steve guided Catherine and Evan away from the group and into his office, "How you doing?"

She shrugged, noticing the window she'd broken and escaped through, "I really wanted to do something toward figuring out this case, but…"

"And you have, Catherine," Steve assured her, trying to keep her spirits up, "That information and sketch about Pam, all helpful. I didn't want to push you, with your concussion and all… but do you recall anything Lawson or An might have said, things you overheard?"

"They were good about keeping quiet around me," she tried to jog some memories.

"Did they ever talk about where they kept their slaves, or all those babies they auctioned off? You mentioned auctions. There've been more than just the one we discovered?"

"I'm not sure, but I assume so," Catherine replied, "There were other times when I wasn't allowed to leave my cabin, but I'd notice that security was more than double for the evening. I never really could tell where we were at any given time. Mostly I saw water and sky, rarely ever land."

He nodded, "Did Lawson or Wo Fat ever mention any Brazilian connection?" Steve tried to flesh out some loose ends.

Catherine looked up at him, "Yes, there was a house they talked about briefly… um, something about soy bean fields surrounding it, and… I think Lawson spent a lot of time there."

Steve squeezed her hand, "That's great."

"Really? A house in a soybean field?" she wore a doubtful expression.

"More than we had two minutes ago," he relayed before going to his deck. He found a small spiral notebook and grabbed a pen, offered them both to Catherine, "Why don't you try writing down everything you remember about your time on the ship," he suggested. "You could use your laptop, but I thought maybe keeping this by the bed would be good in case something pops into your head," Steve noticed the odd way she glanced at the notebook, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Catherine looked down at Evan and saw that he'd fallen asleep, "I had a notebook I wrote in when I was on the ship. I almost packed it with the things I left with Evan, but decided to keep it with me. Then you took me and it got left behind so… I guess it was destroyed in the explosions."

"What did you write about?" Steve asked.

She tried not to think about all the entries he'd never get to read, "Nothing really," Catherine lied.

Kono opened the door, "Sorry to interrupt, but Chin says he's got something to show us."

They followed her out into the main room.

Chin waited a moment until Steve and Catherine were huddled around the table again. He motioned to the photo he had displayed of a young woman, "This is a picture from a UC San Diego memory book, 1993. Pamela Connell, she was An's freshman roommate." Chin looked to Catherine, holding up her drawing near the screen, "Seems to match your sketch."

"It's her," Catherine confirmed, "Younger, but… that's definitely her."

Kono helped her cousin out with further research, "Pamela Connell went to nursing school straight after her undergrad degree was obtained, married a fellow nursing student Marcus Gordon in 1999. They have two children and live in a San Diego suburb," she looked up at the group, "Which is also where An's parents live."

Chin's tone turned softer, "I just found this," he swiped an article onto the main screen and began to read, "Forty-year-old home health care nurse, Pamela Gordon was found dead at her San Diego home on the morning of Friday, November 12th, 2014. Police say she was alone; her children already off to school and her husband at work. She was discovered by a neighbor who said they were walking by and heard the Gordon's dog barking. The neighbor investigated and found Gordon in the backyard, passed out in her garden. Medical examiner discovered a high level of liquid plant fertilizer had been ingested, consistent with what was found on the Gordon's property. Police have ruled the death a suicide."

Catherine chewed her lip, "Last time I saw Pam was a week before," she sighed, "I didn't see anyone the week of November 12th, not Wo Fat, Lawson or An."

"They were all on the boat the following week, though," Steve recalled, "When I discovered the Kappa-Shui gui off the coast of Shanghai."

"So any of them could've killed her," Danny realized, "We do think this Pam Gordon women was murdered, right?"

"We do," Steve agreed.

"Which gets us exactly nowhere again," Catherine couldn't hide her frustration as she pushed away from the table, "Another person hurt because of me. More dead ends. I really thought Pam would be a good lead, but she didn't even live on the island. Lawson and An have got to be somewhere nearby, don't they?"

Steve nodded, "That's my guess. We've got teams searching round the clock, but there are cargo ships coming and going all the time, private boats, forest land, tons of houses," he listed just a few of the places a person could hide out on the island, "And that ship had a helipad, they could have a helicopter to be getting around because they've probably ditched the yacht knowing we have its name and description. It's a small island, but we just can't police every corner of it," he hated facing that fact.

He hated having to tell Catherine even more.

"So Lawson is out there right now, hiding from us, probably plotting his next move…" she shook her head, "And there's nothing we can do. I should've just stayed on that damned ship with him, because how is this any better than being his prisoner?"

"We'll find him, Catherine," Steve tried to sound confident, even though he knew it had taken him years to get Wo Fat.

"Really?" doubt laced every word she spoke, "When do you think that'll be, before or after he completely destroys our family?" she asked disparagingly, stuffing the notebook and pen he'd given her into the diaper bag. She slung the bag over her shoulder. One hand protectively rested against Evan's sleeping body as she headed toward the door.

Steve went after her, catching up to her in the hallway, "Catherine, wait… I don't want to fight with you again about this."

"We're not fighting," she took a deep breath, looking him in the eye.

"Then don't walk away angry," he pleaded.

"I'm walking away because…" Catherine tried to calm herself down, not wanting to be so upset with Evan between them, "Because I just want to do the one thing still within my control right now," she easily stepped away from him. "I'm taking my son home."

He remained in the hall, watching he go, "Our son," Steve whispered.

000

11/25/2014

Steve,

Wo Fat was on the ship again last week.

I decided to put my plan into play before he

and Lawson can strike first. I hope An will

back me up the way she's promised. I can't

tell you how worried I am right now.

But worry keeps me alert and alive.

I really don't want to write too much here

in case Lawson ever finds this notebook. I

sleep with it under my pillow, but that's

no guarantee.

There are still so many things I want to

write to you about, but all I really want

you to know is no matter what happens

next I'm doing this for you and for our

nugget, because I love you both so much.

Catherine

---

To be continued…