You Owe Me

by njborba

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

15. Chapter 15

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

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You Owe Me
Part 15

By
N. J. Borba

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"How's Catherine doing?" Kono asked as Steve approached the computer table in the middle of the command center.

He shrugged, "I know she's pretty sick of people asking her how she is. And by people, I mostly mean me," Steve stressed, "She rarely leaves the house these days except if it has to do with Evan, taking him to the doctor or going with Doris to buy new nursing bras, or even riding with Mick to stock up on diapers."

Kono grinned, "You're not jealous of your own son, are you?" she meant her question to be teasing, but instantly noticed the distant look in her boss' eyes, "Steve," Kono did her best to tread lightly, "He's a baby. And while I'm not very partial to them just yet, I've watched a lot of my cousins have them. From what I can tell, babies are demanding and they usually take out their biggest demands on their mothers," she did her best to impart some wisdom though she didn't have much experience with kids.

Steve nodded, "I know, and I'm not jealous of Evan. He's… I can't even describe how happy it makes me to see him every day, when he wakes up happy or falls asleep with this tiny little smirk on his face. The totally blissful look when he's nursing. And these past two weeks he's changed so much. He's staying awake longer, and can do this sorta half pushup move where he lifts his chest and head off the floor. He's really strong," Steve beamed proudly.

"And watching Catherine as a mom," his voice filled with awe, "She's so good with him, especially for someone who never wanted kids," Steve felt a little bad revealing that fact.

"I'm pretty sure there's some hormonal thing that takes over a woman's brain when they have a baby," Kono chuckled, "Well, not all women. Some women really don't want kids and that's okay, and some women probably never should have kids. But I think the ones who are already good people, like Cath, become some of the best moms." She watched Steve for a moment, "And it was just the two of them for a long time, so maybe you need to give it some time?"

His brow arched, "Now you're starting to sound like Doris."

"Watch it, boss," she teasingly scolded.

A small laugh finally escaped his lips and he was grateful to be able to joke around for a moment, always feeling like he had to walk on eggshells around Catherine, "Where are Chin and Danny this morning?" Steve asked, not seeing either one in their offices.

"Chin went to chat with Charlie regarding some of the information SDPD sent over about An's parents," Kono relayed, "I know there wasn't much there when we went over it all a few weeks ago, but Chin dug a little deeper, talked to a neighbor yesterday about a car that they'd seen hanging around the block for several weeks before Peter and Irene Zhou left for their vacation. Turns out the neighborhood watch leaders had video of the car they turned over to SDPD. Charlie's enhancing it for us."

"Very nice work," Steve was impressed by how his team kept digging.

"Danny had a conference at Grace's school today," Kono added.

"Something wrong?" he wondered.

"Nope, just standard parent-teacher stuff," she shrugged.

"We heard anything from the CIA contact in Brazil, what's his name… Jared Vichy?" Steve asked.

Kono nodded, "Agent Vichy hasn't contacted us for several days, still searching out a connection between Lawson and the BSWR, and looking for that house that Cath mentioned might've been connected to Lawson," she relayed, "On our end things aren't much better. So far no marinas or airports have seen anyone fitting Lawson's description, can't find the Lightning Bolt yacht. If he's headed out of the country, he hasn't used any passport or legal channels of transport."

"He's not leaving the country," Steve knew.

She continued, "And wreckage recovered from the Kappa-Shui gui so far is still minimal, no security videos survived, no prints, which means no way to know if An was on that ship before it blew. Max has identified half a dozen bodies from the Kappa, though, all high paid thugs from Brazil and a few neighboring South American countries. Seems likely that Lawson escaped as we thought, possibly An along with him."

"But we have no one to question," he lamented, "It's been two weeks, what is Lawson waiting for?" Steve hated all the dead ends, tapping his fingers against the computer, "And still nothing on the place up north that Larry Russell mentioned?" he wondered.

"Grover's teams have searched the last two weeks," she reported, "They've found a lot of possibilities but nothing with any concrete evidence that the baby selling ring was using the facility," Kono shrugged, "They must have packed up and had a heck of a good clean-up crew, not surprising since Wo Fat was connected. Grover told me just yesterday he still has a small team working in shifts up there, sniffing out more possibilities. No one is giving up on this, boss," she assured him.

He was about to start another map search himself when his cell rang.

"McGarrett," Steve promptly answered. There was no response right away, "This is Commander McGarrett," he announced again as he pressed the speaker button so Kono could listen in if anyone answered, "Who is this?"

"Oh… hi," a slightly hesitant male voice replied, "Sorry, I was just watching to make sure he was still… shoot, I forgot… this is Dalton, um… Dalton Herschel," the voice said, "I'm guessing you probably don't remember me, but I live on Kaweloka Street in Pearl City. We met there a couple weeks back."

Steve nodded as he sat the phone down, leaning his palms against the computer table, "I remember you, Dalton," he spoke to the teenager with interest, "What's going on, buddy? Did something happen, you seen anything or anyone?"

"Yeah, I called you because I saw that man," the teen replied, "I was just watching the house while I dialed you… well, I think it was him, the one you were asking about. I saw his face on the news, Ms. Lawson's father, right? I swear he's the guy I saw just a few minutes ago. He went inside her house."

"You sure about that?" Steve asked, standing up straighter as he took interest, "We've got police watching the place, Dalton. They would've notified us."

"I know they've been watching the house, but I saw them leave like a half hour ago, sir," Dalton politely relayed, "I was walking toward my buddy's house a little while ago because we walk to school together. We were gonna shoot a few baskets before we set out, but then I saw this guy get out of his car and walk down the block to the house where Ms. Lawson used to live – where we were headed. My friend and I kinda followed him on the other side of the sidewalk, don't think he noticed us. He seemed to have a key to get in."

"Where are you now, Dalton?" Steve was worried. If it was Lawson and he'd noticed the boy trailing him there could be trouble.

"At my house," he replied. "Inside with my friend, I came in to call you and stay out of sight but still keep an eye on the house. Our doors and windows are locked."

Steve nodded, impressed by the kid's moxie, "Good, that's good. I want you to stay in your house and do not leave for any reason until I tell you personally that it's okay to leave. My partner, Danny, and I are going to head over there right now. I'm going to give you a number and have you call it in about five minutes; the number is for Officer Kono Kalakaua. When you get her on the line I need you to stay on the line and tell her if you see that man leave the house or do anything strange, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Sure," the teenager replied. "But my parents are gonna bust me for not being at school."

"No, they won't, Dalton," Steve assured him, "I'll make sure of that. Just hang tight, buddy," he rattled off Kono's number for the boy, "I'm gonna hang up now, but call her in five minutes," Steve reiterated before disconnecting. He grabbed his phone, pushed away from the table and eyed Kono, "Before Dalton calls you I need you to contact HPD and make sure that patrol car doesn't return to Lawson's house. I don't want him spooked."

"Got it," Kono jumped on her cell.

He was on his phone again as he exited the Palace, "Danny, come on, pick up… please do not ignore this…" Steve heard a click and then Danny's voicemail message. He disconnected and redialed as he slid into the driver's seat of his truck, "Pick up, Williams," he willed his partner while tearing out of the parking lot.

"Are you kidding me?" Danny's voice finally answered, "I am in the middle of a parent-teacher conference," he growled in a whisper, "It was just getting to the part where they praise Grace's grades and her exemplary behavior. You'll understand the importance of this someday when you go to Evan's first… oh, wait, no you won't. You'll be too busy picking him up after detention because he's going to turn into an impatient mongrel like you."

"Lawson's been spotted in Pearl City at his old house," Steve replied.

There was silence for a moment and then, "Crap," as Danny's voice rose, "Why didn't you say so, you want me to meet you there?"

"No, I'll be at Grace's school in about five minutes, be ready. We're taking your car." Steve disconnected and hit another speed dial button, "Hey, mom," he greeted briefly, "Are you still at the house with Catherine and Evan?"

"Yeah, Mick just showed up," she replied, "He and I are having brunch on the lanai."

"Alright, can you just keep a close eye on Evan and Catherine, but not mention anything to Catherine? I don't want to freak her out."

"Freak her out about what?" Doris asked, "I thought you two agreed to full disclosure?"

He nearly laughed at her method of talking about lying, "Yes, but I think Lawson is nearby and I don't want her to know. In case he tries to go after her or Evan, or…"

"In case Catherine tries to go after Lawson," his mother guessed knowingly. "Evan went down for a nap about ten minutes ago so she's napping with him. And I doubt you need to worry about her going anywhere. I'm worried about her, Steve. Have you talked about this hermit thing she's got going on? I don't think she's left the house for almost seven days. Mick and I went on the last diaper run by ourselves."

"Not a good time for this, mom," Steve interrupted.

"Right, of course, you're busy tracking down the bad guy," Doris realized, "Sorry, I'm still not used to the staying put part of being under attack."

"Just stay with them, that's important, too," he insisted. "And make sure the HPD patrol unit I have watching the place stays there with you. I'll call you back as soon as I can," Steve hung up on her. He was outside Grace's school a minute later and standing beside the driver's side of the black Camaro when Danny came walking down the front steps.

"Pretty sure that was more like three minutes, speedy Gonzales," Danny remarked as he tossed his keys to Steve.

They were on the road in seconds, Steve running down what little he knew for his partner.

Danny's cell rang and he put it on speaker, "Kono, what's up?"

"I just got a description of the car Lawson's driving from Dalton," she informed them, "Silver Toyota Corolla. Dalton thinks its late nineties, kid seems to know his cars. He didn't get a plate number, though, said it was covered by something."

"Got it, thanks," Danny hung up, "Maybe we could deputize this Dalton kid?"

Steve nodded as he stomped on the gas pedal. He took the H1 north and then west before cutting off onto the neighborhood streets and winding his way toward Lawson's place.

He finally slowed a little on their approach along Kaweloka Street, spotting the blue two-story Lawson house from a few blocks down the street. "Silver Corolla," Danny pointed out the car which was parked down the street quite a ways from the house.

"I see it," Steve pulled to a stop along the curb several car lengths behind the silver sedan. They exited the Camaro and noticed the rear license plate of the Corolla looked to be covered by black plastic taped along all four sides, "I want to check the car first, see if…" he didn't finish when Danny waved a hand to silence him. Steve noticed what his partner was seeing, Lawson walking down the sidewalk toward them.

Danny's cell phone rang loudly. He and Steve both knew it was probably Kono calling to tell them about Lawson being on the move.

They ignored the call and inched back toward the Camaro to seek safety. They drew their guns, using the doors for cover.

Lawson didn't even slow down or try to turn around and run.

"Something's wrong," Steve whispered, knowing Danny probably couldn't hear him. He fired a warning shot that plugged the back of the silver sedan.

Without even breaking his stride, Lawson continued toward the car.

Danny began to cough and Steve suddenly noticed the air around them had gotten a bit hazy.

"Danny, get in the car!" Steve shouted, as he glanced around trying to spot whoever was helping Lawson out. He covered his mouth but the smoke stung his eyes and he had to dive into the safety of the vehicle as the noxious gas continued to pool around them. Steve put the car in gear and pulled out of the cloud just in time to spot Lawson's silver sedan turn a corner. He set out after the man, tires squealing as he took the turn rather sharply. "Danny…"

"I'm already calling Kono back, see if they can get a team out there and find Lawson's friends who must've…" he coughed again, "Must've set off that smoke bomb behind us."

When they were far enough away, Steve rolled down the windows, hoping to air out any of the remaining smoke.

He steered the Camaro back through the maze of Pearl City neighborhood, then along the highway until they entered downtown Honolulu and swerved around the pedestrian laden streets. They flew through red lights, cutting off crossing traffic and narrowly escaping getting hit by a large furniture delivery truck. Once they cleared downtown Steve sped along the highway, managing to keep Lawson just a few cars ahead of them, clearly in his sights.

"He just picked up speed," Danny noticed as they passed Waikiki and joined highway 72.

As soon as he heard those words, Steve slowed the black Camaro. "I know where he's going, he's headed straight for Koko Head," he whispered.

"What are you doing?" Danny turned to his partner with a look of disbelief as the Camaro skidded to a sudden halt on the side of the road, "He's getting away, Steve, what…"

"I'm not going to do this, Danny," he didn't let his friend continue, "I am not going to give him what he wants. I won't do the same thing he thinks my father did."

Danny's mouth hung open with surprise for a moment until he'd fully digested Steve's words, "You think he's luring you out toward Koko Head so he can crash?" he had a feeling he was finally understanding his partner, "Go off the side of the road into the ocean and kill his self just like…"

"That's exactly what I think," Steve nodded, his fingers still tightly gripping the steering wheel, tempted to resume the pursuit.

"Why would he do that?" Danny shook his head, not entirely convinced, "After all this, why?"

Steve had no doubt in his mind when he replied, "To make it seem like it was my fault. Reckless pursuit, high speed chase, he goes over the embankment…"

"Oh," Danny realized. "He goes out feeling superior, maybe even justified."

"And I'm not going to give him that," Steve pulled a U-turn and aimed the Camaro back toward HQ, doubt clouding every small move he made.

"So you're seriously just letting him go," Danny was still aghast, "You do remember he held Catherine prisoner for months, kept your son from you… if it was me I'd let him run off the side of the road, kill himself if he wants, what the hell?"

"No," Steve maintained his stance though it was eating him up inside, "I won't let him call the shots, Danny… not gonna let him get to me. The pictures, the notes, taking Catherine…"

Danny threw up his hands, "You really think you'll get another chance to have him in your sights?"

"Call Duke and get a patrol unit to search the stretch of highway 72 around Koko Head," Steve decided.

The room for doubt in his mind faded, he'd already made the decision, "Either he goes off the road on his own in a few minutes and kills himself without my help," Steve stated, "Or he doubles back with a plan to come after me again," he explained it the way he saw it, "Either way, I'm about to lock down this island so tight he'll wish he'd fled when he had the chance. He's not getting away unless he swims for it," Steve growled, "I swear to you, Danny; I'm not playing his games any more."

"You know Catherine's gonna be pissed when she…" Danny eyed his partner, "You are going to tell her about this, aren't you?"

"Yes," Steve nodded, "But I'd rather she be pissed at me again than any other alternative."

A cell phone rang and Danny realized it was his, "Kono?" he put her on speaker.

"Dalton didn't see anyone else in the area, at least not from his vantage point," she relayed, "So far, HPD patrols are reporting the same."

"Then who helped him?" Steve asked, "Someone was there."

"Maybe it was An?" Danny guessed. "She's the only one that makes sense. Or he's got other thugs on this island helping him out. He'll likely ditch that silver car somewhere and regroup, especially since he probably thinks he was able to outrun us so easily."

"What happened, did you lose him?" Kono asked.

Steve and Danny shared a quick glance, "Not exactly," Steve admitted the truth.

000

The walk-in closet wasn't terribly big given it was an older house.

But it was large enough for a row of shelves on one side and a hanging rod across the other, with a door opening between the two sides. And there was a single bulb light on a pull chain above. Catherine had the door propped open and a large cardboard box blocking the doorway. The light revealed all of the things she'd moved into the closet just a little over a year ago, dresses for fancy occasions and casual skirts, blouses, and her Navy uniforms which were still pressed and perfectly hung in their garment bags.

She grabbed the nearest hanger and barely glanced at the black dress hanging on it before tossing the dress haphazardly into the box and putting the hanger back.

One by one she removed more dresses, a white one and another black, then a red one and dark blue. They all followed the same path into the box, hangers rehung. She'd been meaning to get rid of them for weeks. But every time she'd glanced at the items, Catherine had felt stuck in time. The same as she had upon first arriving back home. So much had happened to her on the ship, she'd fought for her life, for her freedoms, some days for her very sanity. And the biggest change of all, becoming a mother.

Yet the closet she shared with Steve still revealed a former life.

Catherine heard him enter the room, able to identify his footfalls even with bare feet. She could hear him talking softly to Evan. Through the crack between the open closet door and the room she could see the baby tucked against Steve's left side, his muscular arm safely keeping Evan close, "Now that we have the house all locked up for the night, why don't we read you a bedtime story? Hmm?" he asked the boy, "What should we read tonight? Maybe finish up where we left off last night when your mom was in the shower?"

Trooper trotted into the bedroom and jumped up onto the bed, settling down in her usual place near Steve's feet.

Curiosity got the best of her, even as she continued to toss more clothes in the box, a gray skirt and an emerald dress. She didn't remember having so many dresses.

"When I was at An's house that Saturday night with Lawson, I couldn't sleep," Steve read, "Lying in bed waiting for Wo Fat to show up, worried, anxious, wondering why I didn't just finish Lawson off right then and run back home to Steve and Evan. But I knew I needed them together, I needed Lawson to get to Wo Fat. I laid there trying to comfort myself with memories, the memory of the first date I'd had with Steve," he flipped the notebook page.

"But that's probably not an important detail to write in this notebook," he continued reading, "Steve needs details of what happened while I was away…"

She paused in the closet doorway, a hanger in her left hand, black fabric gathered into a bunch in her right hand as she listened.

"I shifted my focus again that night, knowing I needed to be in top form. I couldn't sit there and dwell on leaving Evan or wanting to be with him and Steve. Instead I sewed that skeleton handcuff key I'd taken from Steve's office into the bottom hem of my dress. I sewed it as loosely as I could with it still being secure enough to stay. Later, when we were on the Kappa and Wo Fat was using the collar on me - it didn't really hurt as bad as I pretended it to - I used it as a distraction because I needed to bend over and retrieve the key."

Listening to him read the last little bit caused her to nearly trip over the box in the doorway. "What are you doing?" Catherine revealed herself, pushing the box out of the way and stepping just outside of the closet to see Steve was propped on the bed with Evan in his arms.

The baby was stretched out, all long and lean like Steve. He looked up when he heard her voice, aiming his shiny brown eyes her way.

Steve looked up as well, not surprised by her presence. He'd known she was there all along, "I'm reading to Evan, bedtime story," he glanced down at the baby. Evan was still cuddled beside him, his eyes shifting from Catherine back to Steve. One little hand reached upward. Steve leaned down a little and nibbled gently on the boy's tiny fingers. "He ate a half hour ago, has a clean diaper and his eyes keeping drooping, but he won't fall asleep. He's been awake since I got home."

"Well…" she walked over and stood beside them, "Don't read him that, it's…" Catherine reached for the notebook.

"It's about his mommy being badass," Steve turned his eyes her direction again, an admiring smile flashed, "Why not read it to him? What kid doesn't want to think of their parents as superheroes? At least until they're like, what, eleven or twelve? Then they get all drugged up on those pre-teen and teenaged hormones and hate their parents for the next ten or so years. I really hope that doesn't happen to Grace, you know? I like her sweet and innocent. Can't we keep her like that? And keep Evan a baby?"

Catherine actually smiled, surprised by his practically gushy comments about the kids. She walked over to her nightstand and grabbed a hardbound book, tossing it onto the bed beside Steve, "That's a kid's book, intended to be read to kids," she stressed.

He glanced at it, "Tickle Monster," Steve grinned, "Sounds cute. You buy this?"

Her head shook, "It came in the mail this morning along with those frog PJs he's wearing," Catherine pointed to the baby's white outfit with embroidered green frogs.

Steve brows arched in a silent question.

"My mom sent a package of things for Evan," she replied.

"That's nice," he acknowledged, "So you talked to her, gave her a thank you call?"

"No," Catherine's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Cath, you need to talk to her," he didn't want to press, but he knew Elizabeth and Catherine had a much closer relationship than he and Doris. "She loves you and just wants to…"

"I'm not ready," she cut him off, holding her hands out, "Give him here," Catherine requested as she leaned over to reach for the baby, "Haven't you noticed the last week that he's developed this sleep fighting thing?" she took the boy and placed him against her shoulder, kissing his cheek and rubbing his back. Catherine walked him to the portable crib positioned near her side of the bed, "I want to start teaching him to fall asleep on his own," she noted, lying him down on his back and tucking a blanket over top of him. "Sleep tight, nugget."

Evan let out a small squeak of protest as soon as she took her hands off him. Not really a cry, but a sort of mournful plea. It was clearly an attempt to lure her back.

It took a lot of effort for her to walk away from him, but she made her way back to the closet.

Steve had already tossed the tickle book and her notebook aside and jumped up to join her. He stood in the closet doorway, hands at his side, eying the box. His head turned toward Evan, listening for his cries to start, but to both their surprise there was no crying. "You might be on to something with this sleep fighting thing," Steve acknowledged, still bowing to her when it came to the parenting stuff because he felt rather overwhelmed. "But who can blame me for wanting to hang on to him a little longer? You get to spend all day with him."

She didn't respond, resuming her previous endeavor.

"A better question for tonight might be, what're you doing?" Steve asked, not really watching her movements, just watching her; her downcast eyes, her slightly slumped shoulders and the darkness beneath her eyes, "It's after eleven, Cath, you should call it a night."

"I can't sleep," Catherine finally replied.

"I doubt you've even given it a try yet," Steve sighed, "You've been rustling around in that closet. What are you doing?" he asked again.

"Spring cleaning," her answer was short, like most of her responses to him all evening since he'd told her about what had happened with Lawson.

He nodded, "Interesting, I always figured spring cleaning occurred in the spring and since it's a few days before Christmas…" Steve trailed off, noticing that she was not in the mood for joking around, or talking about her mom, or much of anything else. He also noticed only a specific sort of clothing was being tossed. "I kinda like that black one," Steve pointed to the dress that was hanging over one side of the box. "I like all of your little black dresses," he grinned, "I like helping you out of them even more."

"I don't want them," Catherine declared, "Any of them."

"But you like wearing dresses."

"Not anymore."

Steve winced, those words feeling like a punch to his gut. He finally understood, realizing that in the three weeks since she'd been home he hadn't seen her wear a single dress or even a skirt. There was little doubt in his mind why. He knew it was because of the dresses Lawson had made her wear while she'd been locked away on the ship. Steve reached across the box and took her hand. He removed the hanger in her left hand and set it aside.

"If you want to wear jeans and t-shirts for the rest of your life that's fine with me."

Catherine bit her lip as he attempted to draw her out of the closet, still holding her left hand. She couldn't help notice how he caressed the knuckle where her ring finger had been cut away. He'd been doing it since she'd returned; never seeming to mind at all that she was disfigured. His caring nature only served to make her more defiant. Catherine pulled away and went back to the task, pulling the last few dresses off hangers and placing them in the box.

"Are you going to stay mad at me?" he asked, arms cross over his chest as he leaned in the doorway, "I hate fighting with you."

"I'm not mad," she interrupted, bending over to close up the box, one flap over the other until she tucked the last one under the first, "And we're not fighting," her voice lowered a bit as she stood and glanced over at the crib where Evan was asleep, "I don't want to fight with you."

He sighed, pushing away from the door as she slid the box across the room and out into the hallway. Steve stood in front of her, blocking her path back into the room, "Can I tell you want I want?" he challenged, eying her, "I know I said I hate fighting with you, but if we're upset then I want to fight and I want to call it a fight," Steve huffed, "You're clearly upset, which is making me upset. And when two people are upset with one another most people call that a fight."

"Let me see," Catherine finally gave in to his reasoning, "You let Lawson go when he was within your grasp. You locked down the island, and it's been almost twelve hours and no one can find him, just an abandoned car along the highway. So, yeah, I'm planning to be mad at you for at least the rest of my life."

"See, that wasn't so hard," Steve replied, noticing that her voice had barely risen, though she was clearly pissed at him, "Although you shouldn't exaggerate. I know we're fighting, but still, you don't really mean you'll stay mad at me for the rest of your life," he responded, being as patient as he could with her, same as he'd been the last several weeks.

She sighed, knowing he was right, "You had him, Steve. You had him. Dead or alive, what did it matter?"

"It matters a lot," he maintained, "I won't play the part he wants, Cath. He blamed my dad, and he helped Wo Fat kill my father because he blamed him for something my dad didn't do. I wasn't going to roll over and do the very thing he wanted me to do, to get his final revenge. No way. To do that would be like… like admitting my father was guilty, when we both know he wasn't. I know that must be hard for you to understand, Catherine and I'm sorry for that, but…"

"I do understand," she whispered, "That's what really pisses me off most. I'm proud of you for not giving in to him, but at the same time… I just want him out of our lives."

He nodded sympathetically, "I know you do, Catherine, and you've fought so hard to try and make that happen, which is why I feel even worse about not letting him die out there this morning on that highway," Steve lamented, reaching out again and taking her left hand in his.

Catherine clutched his offered hand, "Are we done fighting yet?"

Steve watched as she glanced inside the room to the crib again, "Hey, I know you don't want to fight because you're afraid of what happened to your parents happening to us," he acknowledged that fear, almost certain they'd had a similar conversation before, "But we're not them, remember? And like I said early, if we're upset then I want to fight."

"You do?" her face contorted a bit in disbelief.

"I do, you know why?" Steve walked her back inside the room and sat her down on their bed, "Because I want Evan to know that sometimes people fight. Sometimes his parents are going to fight, because no one can agree on everything all the time. That's not normal, is it?" he ran his other hand along the back of her head and down her neck, "I want us to work out our disagreements, apologize and make up. I want our son to know that's healthy, to fight and make up and know that we still love each other even when we disagree."

A smile bloomed as she stared at him with wonder, "When did you get so smart about relationships?"

His lop-sided grin reappeared, "Finally been reading that book Danny gave us. Found out there's a whole chapter on disagreement conversations, some of that stuff is pretty useful."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Catherine wondered as she laid her head against his shoulder.

"Um, tossed a peanut at me," Steve's grin widened.

"Pretty sure it was an almond," she corrected.

A nod was given as he kissed the side of her head, "And you're never gonna let me forget it." Steve encouraged her to lie down next to him. "Mom's worried about you," he let slip.

"Doris?" she whispered, head against his shoulder again as they snuggled beside one another. "Why?"

"She says you've been a hermit, and I have to agree with her," Steve was usually loath to agree with his mother, but in this case she made a decent point.

Catherine sighed, "I was on that ship for so long without any idea where I was, Steve. It wasn't the same as being at sea on an aircraft carrier. Back then I was in control, but on the Kappa I wasn't. And I feel like the only thing I can control right now is being home. Giving Evan a home, a real home, a place where he can feel safe."

He heard the trepidation in her voice, "I have those same thoughts every day, Catherine, about keeping Evan and you safe. And part of me really wants to embed a tracker under your skin, or keep you both locked up in some tower or out in the middle of the forest or something equally ridiculous," Steve let some of his fear slip through, "But then I have to realize that that's a risk we have to live with. That we just have to live."

"That's the other thing…" she paused.

"What other thing?" Steve prodded. He was glad to have her talking a little.

"Living…" Catherine sighed, "I'm still dead, technically," she shook her head, "When I went to buy diapers that time with Mick I reached for my wallet and realized I didn't have one. My license expired and my credit cards are invalid because Max had me declared dead. My parents cashed in my life insurance policy to pay for a funeral to bury a finger, a funeral I never really wanted. And there's a gravestone with my name on it and a date I died. I keep imagining people leaving flowers there for me and…"

Her whole body heaved with another sigh, "I saw reporters camped out on the front lawn the other day. I guess I should've figured they'd show up sooner or later wanting to know about the woman who came back from the dead," Catherine took a breath, "And then there's my car which is completely unsuitable for a baby seat so I'll probably have to drive a minivan," she cringed, "How do I process all that?"

His head shook, tears stinging his eyes as he got stuck on remembering the day of her funeral. "I don't have an answer for you. Relating to you always used to be pretty easy, you know, because we were both in the Navy, we always had things to talk about, plenty of stuff in common," Steve recalled, "But this… what you went through, I honestly don't know how to relate to any of it with you, Catherine. Not unless you tell me."

"It's hard," was all she managed to squeak out as she took a deep breath.

Steve rubbed a comforting hand over her shoulder, "It's alright to be scared, Catherine. You don't always have to show me how tough you are. I admire you so much for being a strong woman. I fell in love with your strength and that not taking any crap off anyone attitude of yours. I remember you telling me about your dad and how he said that true courage was being scared and still getting the job done, using fear to drive you forward and not hold you back."

"That's always been one of his favorite pep talks," Catherine recalled.

"But I'll admire you just as much if you need to cry or yell or break down in some way," Steve conveyed. "And I'd be happy to listen to anything you want to tell me," he offered.

She sniffed, "I know."

"And if you don't want to talk to me about it then…" he wanted to be supportive even if he couldn't be her confidant, "I think you need to talk to someone. Kono or Doris maybe? Give Mary a call, or talk to your mom. You don't have to tell me who, I don't need to know. I'm the king of keeping my feelings bottled up, but you can't keep it all in, Cath. It'll either eat you up inside or make you explode. And I'd rather not see either of those things happen, because I love you. And I want you in my life for as long as possible."

He looked over at her, seeing the tears that had fallen. Steve reached out to wipe them from her cheek, "Evan and I really just want to see you smile more."

Catherine smiled softly, "He tell you that?"

Steve nodded, "He did. Smart kid we have there."

"I know," she grinned a little brighter, "Takes after his mommy."

"He got my good looks and your brains," Steve boasted, "Best combo," he winked, seeing how she glared not-so-menacingly at him for that comment, "I have something for you," Steve pulled away from her for a moment, leaning over to grab a few items out of the drawer of his nightstand. He settled back beside her and presented two catalogs.

"What is this?"

"I have one condition for Evan living with us."

Her brow bunched, "Excuse me?"

He chuckled softly, taping a finger against the catalogs. "I know you want to keep the little guy close so you can feed him and all, but I figure he's going to need a real bed soon. Last year we picked out our bed, this year I thought we should get Evan one."

Glancing at the catalog covers, Catherine could see one was for paint colors and the other nursery furniture. "And you got catalogs because…"

"Since you don't want to go out," he replied. "I even have a credit card handy. This time I'm paying."

Catherine sat up a little, touched by his gesture. She remained snuggled against his side as she flipped through the paint colors, grateful that he was willing to indulge her not wanting to be out in public at the moment. She didn't peruse too long before settling to one color in particular, "Blue is good."

"Traditional boy color," Steve noted.

"No, I happen to like blue," she protested.

"I know, I was teasing," he winked, "But there's about fifty different shades in here," Steve pointed out.

"Hmm, how about something light, airy… like this one," she picked.

"Beach-ball blue," he read the color name, "Kind of a pale aqua… I like it."

She glanced over at him, "That was too easy," Catherine was reminded of how much they normally agreed on things as he'd mentioned earlier, "What room are we putting him in? I was thinking your old room because I still want Mary to feel welcome here if she visits. We can have her old bedroom be our guest room."

"I like that," Steve agreed, touched by how much Catherine cared about his sister. "So, my old room still has the original wainscot. Want me to rip that out or leave it?" he offered.

"Leave it," she decided quickly. "I've always loved this house's beach charm. I say we keep the wainscot white and paint the upper walls the blue. And he'll need some new curtains with those sunblock thingies, so he can sleep well. That room gets a lot of light."

"All doable," Steve nodded, "How about the furniture, white theme to go with the lower walls?"

Catherine grabbed the second catalog and began to flip through it, "And you thought there were a ton of paint choices," she let out a breath, glancing at page after page of crib and nursery sets from black to white and all shades of the rainbow in between. "I actually like this light oak stain," Catherine showed him.

"You don't think it'll look weird with the white part of the walls?" he questioned.

"The walls in here are white and our bed is a similar light stain."

"So it is," Steve nodded, "Starting to see a pattern here. Sure you don't want to fight about this?"

"I'm sure," she nodded. "We should get a changing table so we're not always bent over the bed or on the floor, still got a lot of diaper changes ahead."

"How many?" Steve wondered.

She shrugged, "Uh, two years' worth, maybe? I think kids are potty trained by two?"

"Not a clue," he admitted. "I'm sure there are books about it."

Her nod was born of the knowledge that there were tons of kid rearing books in the world, and she'd already read a plethora of them. "That old dresser in your room should be fine, though, don't you think? It's white."

"It could use some touching up with new paint," Steve suggested, "I was a bit rough on my stuff as a kid, think I once took a baseball bat to it."

"Oh, goody," Catherine rolled her eyes, "Something to look forward to. They call that the terrible twos, right?"

"I was fourteen," he revealed.

"Lovely," she groaned, "I reproduced with a Neanderthal. And, by the way," Catherine eyed him warningly, "You shouldn't say ass around him."

"Hmm?"

"Evan," she clarified, "Early you said something about me being kick-ass when he was right there in your arms."

"He's three months old, Catherine," Steve screwed up his face, clearly thinking she was overreacting, "He doesn't even know what it means."

"But he's learning from us all the time. His little brain synapses are firing like crazy right now. The first five or six years are the formative years for development."

"Are you making this stuff up?" Steve chuckled.

"I read it," she slapped his shoulder gently. Catherine looked at the catalogs again, "Believe it or not, I've spent a decent amount of time daydreaming about a future with you," she revealed, "But I honestly never imagined the two of us picking out baby furniture."

"Or having a baby to begin with," Steve countered.

She nodded, "Or having a baby," Catherine confirmed, "I can already see you're getting to be the fun parent, which means I'll have to be the lay down the law parent."

He eyed her quizzically, "What are you going on about now?"

"You get to go to work every day and then come home and spend a few hours with him at night before bed," Catherine pointed out, "In a few years I can picture you getting him all wound up, feed him cookies before bedtime, then I'll have to be the one to get him to calm down before he can fall asleep."

"You may be right," he wore a sheepish grin, "I'd never be able to do what you did a little bit ago. I couldn't just let him cry his self to sleep."

"If he'd actually cried I probably would've picked him up," she admitted.

"I knew it," he pointed a finger at her, "You're a big softy, go on, admit it," Steve playfully pestered her.

Catherine stuck her tongue out at him, feeling almost normal again at that moment as they played around, "I think the sleep fighting thing is your fault," she shot back.

"My fault?"

"I didn't mean that as accusatory as it probably sounded," she cringed, hoping she hadn't taken their banter too far, "I just think he wants to be with you, be held by you. Kind of like he's trying to make up for lost time," Catherine swallowed, regret seeping in again.

"I feel that way, too," Steve revealed as he reassuringly rubbed her back, knowing it wasn't her fault for their separation, "Most of the time I just want to hold him as long as I can. But you being the law maker parent isn't so bad, kids need rules, right? They need to learn and respect boundaries, and I know you'd never be cruel." He watched her nod, "Will you tell me a good part tonight?" Steve asked, "Tell me about the day our son was born. What was your labor like? Did it hurt? Were you scared?"

She shrugged a little, "Maybe sorta scared," Catherine tossed the catalogs onto the floor, "But you know I have a pretty high pain tolerance."

"Hmm, three cracked ribs in North Korea and you still fought like a bad-ass," he recalled, "I can say that when he's asleep, right?" Steve glanced over at the crib and didn't hear a peep from the baby. His focus returned to Catherine, "An created some outrageous shock collar for you to wear and you still managed to stab Wo Fat in the neck. Yeah, I'd say you have a decent pain tolerance level."

"Still, it certainly wasn't the most fun I've ever had with my pants off," she declared.

Steve chuckled, snuggling up closer.

"Sort of like running a marathon," Catherine further tried to explain. "You go and go until you think you're gonna collapse and then you hit this second wind, runners high. And when it's over you pretty much forget how much it hurt the instant that little slimy, alien-nugget is placed in your arms," she recalled with a smile and a tear, "His little head was all misshapen when he first came out, left ear bent, crazy dark hair, but pretty much the most adorable thing ever," Catherine gazed into Steve's eyes, "He looked like you."

"Uh, thanks…" he replied to her comment, eyeing her suspiciously, "I think?"

Catherine grinned, grateful to relive one of the most joyful moments of her time away. "And his cry was so sweet…" she went on, "This little pathetic plea like he was saying: I'm freezing here all naked and fresh out of this cozy womb, won't you hold me and warm me up and feed me while you're at it?" Catherine sighed, sucked into the past for a moment, "First moment I held him was fantastic, like another high. But those following weeks of post-partum…"

"Bad?" Steve gathered.

"We're meant to be focusing on a happy time," Catherine remembered, "I doubt you want to hear about the bleeding that went on for a while after giving birth, all my insides shifting back into some form of normalcy, belly flab, the cracked and sore nipples… the depression…" she paused, "Sorry."

"Don't be," he assured, "I want to know about all of it, if you want to tell me. And just so we're clear, I promise I'll never make you drive a minivan."

With her head against his chest again, Catherine smiled, "Thank you."

000

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

He turned over in bed and spotted Catherine's shadowy profile standing by the crib, her slight but strong arms cradling their infant son.

"You're a hungry nugget," she spoke softly to the baby, "Not even waiting so I can sit down." Catherine walked him over to the bed and managed to settle with her back against the headboard, not jostling the baby too much. He remained latched to her right breast, happily downing his early morning meal. She glanced over to see Steve facing them, his eyes closed. Catherine was glad they hadn't woken him. His work schedule was hectic enough without having a cranky baby to deal with.

"I know I should call your grandma Liz," Catherine's thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Steve earlier that night. "Can't imagine how upset she must've been thinking I was dead," she gulped, "I just, I'm afraid, nugget. I'm afraid to talk to her, afraid to hear how much she loves me. How stupid is that?"

The baby's left hand reached up, grasping a small bunch of her hair that dangled above him, "All I keep thinking about is, what if Lawson comes back for me?" Catherine whispered confidently to the boy, "What if he takes me away again? What if I'm not strong enough to fight him again? Then my parents and Steve… they all have to suffer another loss. That's not fair to them or you. I guess that's why I've been trying to keep everyone at a distance since I've been back."

Catherine tried again to make sense of it all, but still couldn't, "When we were on that ship all I wanted was to be back here with your daddy, and now that I am," she sighed, caressing Evan's pudgy cheek – the one part of him that was actually chubby, "I'm constantly worried that it's all going to end, just… poof! And he's gone again and I'm… alone."

She took a deep breath, "I love your daddy so much, nugget. I can't stand the thought of him not being in my life."

Evan pulled away from her and let out a small fussy cry, "Shh…" Catherine tried to sooth him, getting him to latch on again.

"I'm so happy, when you're near me," she quietly whisper-sang a few of her favorite Chicago song lyrics to calm him. But she was thinking more about Steve than the baby at the moment, remembering their first night together in the new bed and the camouflage negligee he'd bought for her that hadn't stayed on for very long, and the record he'd played for her, the same song she whispered now to their son, "Say that you will stay and…"

A lump in her throat caused her to pause, "Make me smile," Catherine felt a tear run down her cheek.

000

She sat Evan's car seat on the sandy beach beside the picnic table so the table's overhang would shade him.

The boy was fully asleep as Catherine settled across from the person she'd summoned, "Thanks for meeting me here."

"No problem, although… I'm curious why?"

Catherine took a deep breath of the ocean air. It was one of her favorite stretches of beach, palm trees, calm water, white sand and very few people around.

"I didn't think talking to you at Five-0 was…" she shrugged, "I kinda don't want Steve to know. Except he's the reason I'm here. Steve thinks I need to talk to someone. He's right, of course. I wish I could talk to him, I mean… I have about some of it. But there are so many things, and I just don't want him to feel any guiltier than I know he already feels."

"Understandable," the man nodded.

Her eyes settled on his, dark but friendly and tender. "I know we don't know each other that well…"

"Well enough, I think," Chin replied reassuringly, "I remember you being at Malia's memorial even though you didn't know her very well. That meant a lot to me."

She smiled softly as memories of her baby brother came to mind, "Over the years I've thought about what it would've been like to grow up with my brother. Ben was several years younger than me, but even those six months that he was alive I always felt like we… like we had this special connection. I imagined us growing up to be good friends, and he'd be an over-protective brother…" Catherine felt a little foolish for confessing her childhood daydreams to him.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that you feel like…" she took a quick, nervous breath, "Like a brother. I hope that's okay?"

He smiled at that, "It's perfectly okay with me," Chin replied, "I feel honored. You know Kono and I come from a large family, we have so many we consider to be aunties, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins. You fit right in."

His kindness put her a little more at ease, "So do you think you might be willing to hear some of what I went through, maybe just a little? It's okay to say no. I wouldn't blame you."

"If you want to talk, I'm here to listen," he offered.

Another quick breath was taken, only slightly less anxious, "Not sure where to start," Catherine chewed her lip for a moment.

"Wherever," Chin did his best to be supportive. He watched her for a moment, the silence stretching, "How about your first day on the ship?" he thought maybe asking her questions would be most helpful, "Do you remember that?"

Catherine nodded, "I was drugged, handcuffed when I woke up, but released after I agreed to stay with Lawson."

"Why'd you agreed to stay?"

"To protect Mary, mostly. To protect Steve by protecting Mary."

Chin could tell she still needed prodding, "And you were okay with that decision?"

"I was," she breathed out, relaxing a little more, "If I had to do it all over I'd make the same decision again today. Even knowing the outcome, even knowing I'd eventually have to give birth to my son on that ship and not be with Steve, I… I never could see any other way out of the situation. If I'd said no to Lawson he would've killed me and taken Mary." Her head shook, "I already told Steve this part," she said.

"Okay," Chin noticed the way her eyes went to check on Evan, "What haven't you told him?"

She opened her mouth and felt all her insecurities rush forth, "That I missed him almost every second of every day, and that I felt helpless most of the time, that I… that I would lay in bed at night when it was dark and I thought about everyone believing I was dead. I haven't told him how much I feared he'd move on and find… that he'd fall in love with someone else," Catherine finally took a breath, "That I constantly doubted myself, wondering if I should've tried harder to escape, tried to break out of that cabin and signal for help…"

He could tell she was getting overwhelmed so he tried to rein her back, "What about the positive thoughts you had?" Chin wondered, "What about when the doubts took a day off?"

Catherine smiled, "Um… when they took a day off I'd realize that the only way I could really fight back was to take care of myself and," she glanced down at the sleeping baby, "And take care of Evan. I couldn't really risk doing something stupid and getting caught because I knew they'd punish me by taking Evan away or hurting him. And… as much as I love Steve, I love Evan. Everything changes so much when you have a child. I wasn't prepared for that," she revealed. "I don't love him more than Steve, but…"

"But," Chin prompted, sensing what she needed to say was important.

"Everything shifts when you have a baby, priorities and your time. My focus on Evan is what got me through and what if…"

Chin nodded, "What if Steve is jealous of that focus? I doubt it," he responded quickly and sincerely. "I can't imagine what that's like, though, being a parent."

Her smile returned, "It's kinda like the best and worst feelings all rolled into one, fear and amazement."

"Can I ask you something?" Chin tried to push the conversation away from the baby for a moment. He watched her nod, "Are you happy to be home?" he asked his question, watching as her smile turned serious, chest inhaling and exhaling a sigh. He waited patiently for an answer.

She struggled for a moment, but the truth eventually spilled out, "Yes, and no."

He smiled sympathetically, "I don't know a lot about it, but I've heard about people who're locked away for a long time, prisoners in particular," Chin hoped he wasn't overstepping, "They can become what some call, institutionalized. Some repeat their crimes just to be able to return to jail. Or some become loners; lock themselves away of their own accord, rarely leaving the safety of their home. It's a comfort for them to stay in one place, but also somewhat a prison of its own."

"Did you minor in counseling at the police academy?" Catherine teased.

Chin laughed, glad to know he hadn't offended her, "No, but some of my classmates started to call me MH Kelly because several cadets came to me for advice."

"MH?" she questioned.

"Really," his grin broadened, "All those Navy codes you worked with and you can't decipher MH?" Chin chuckled, "Mother Hen."

Catherine laughed both at the moniker and at the way he was so comfortable teasing her right back.

"That's nice to hear," Chin sobered a little, seeing the questioning look in her eyes, "Your laugh."

She nodded, "I don't know how to thank you. Steve was right, this helped."

"No need to thank me," he shook his head, "I've barely done anything."

Just by looking at him, Catherine could tell there was something more he wanted to say, "Spit it out," she offered.

"I've fallen in love with Leilani," Chin revealed. "I never thought there'd be anyone after Malia," he confessed. "But even though I'm very happy in my life right now, there's not a day goes by that I don't think about what it'd be like if Malia showed up at my door, alive. I'd still give anything to have just another hour with her, just a few minutes to tell her how much I love her and miss her," his words quavered a bit, "You and Steve have been given a chance I would never take for granted."

With a soft nod, Catherine realized the truth of his observation.

"My offer to talk is always open," Chin added, "But I hope you'll talk to Steve some more as well."

Catherine sniffed, having to wipe away a tear as she'd listened to him speak from the heart. She reached across the table and he reached back, taking her hand. "Thank you," she said again.

This time he nodded, accepting her gratitude, "You're welcome, little sister."

000

She spotted Cathleen's name nearby, just a few feet to the left.

Catherine stood there wearing a pair of black slacks and navy blue blouse, Evan cuddled up close in the sling across her chest. The baby was awake but calm, his brown eyes blinking up at her. She gently rubbed the boy's back, swaying a little as she took a deep breath and watched Billy dad's approached them. The memorial had ended several minutes ago and almost everyone had already walked back to their cars.

But they remained.

Steve stood to her left and Trooper was on a leash held by him.

"Thank you for being here today," Tom greeted them as they huddled by the memorial wall. "It took me a while to decide what I wanted to do to honor my son. I knew I wanted to take his ashes to Seattle in order to be where his mother was buried. I wanted them together," he said with some difficulty. "But I also wanted to create some sort of memorial here for him. That's why I had the placard made for the memorial wall. I think he would've liked that."

Catherine bit back her tears, wondering why it seemed like so many good people had lost so many loved ones. She looked to Steve and then at Evan, wondering again how she'd gotten so lucky to have them both in her life. "Sir, Billy was… he died protecting Steve and…" she struggled to find the right words. "The gratitude I feel… it just can't be explained. He was one of my best friends and I'm going to miss him very much."

Tom nodded, "Thank you for that. And for allowing me to meet this beautiful little boy of yours," the man smiled at Evan who was still wide awake and trying to reach for the shiny gold necklace Catherine was wearing. "Knowing my son died so that this little boy could grow up with his father…" Tom turned his eyes upon Steve who stood there at attention in his dress uniform, "That's precious."

"If there's ever anything you need, sir," Steve extended his hand.

The older man shook it before reaching into the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. "I appreciate that, but there's actually something I have to give you," he eyed Catherine as he passed her a legal sized envelope. "Not sure if you know I'm a lawyer, but I oversaw all of Billy's estate planning and his Will. He changed everything not long after his friend Marty passed away," Tom explained. "You should read that very carefully and then call me when you're ready to sign."

"Sign what?" Catherine was confused as she opened the envelope and pulled out a legal document. "What is…"

"Billy talked about changing everything again when he and An got married," Tom explained, "But that never happened so this is the Will that he left. Everything goes to you."

Catherine tried to read the document but couldn't concentrate.

"It's mostly the business, the office equipment which will need to be moved soon since the lease will up by the end of January," Tom explained.

"So he spent all the money his friend left him?" Steve was curious, not because he wanted it, just because it seemed unlikely that sensible Billy could've blown through a million dollars.

"Yes, actually," Tom's head nodded, "I was a little worried about the decision he made to use the money in the manner he did. After his accident my son was all about living for the moment, thinking he might die at any time," he gulped, "I did my best to dissuade the purchase he made, but…" he shrugged, "Kids grow up and do what they want. You'll find that out sooner than you realize," Tom wore a sad smile.

"Sir, whatever it is…" Catherine was still struggling for words, "I don't want his things or money or…"

"I know," he tried to sympathize, "His life insurance policy was obscene and I still don't know what to do with it since this memory barely cost anything. But leaving you this, he was happy to do it for you," Tom assured, "He spoke highly of you, Catherine. There's a note in there," he pointed to the envelope, "It should explain everything for you." The man glanced at the wall again for a moment, "I hope you'll visit this place sometimes for me. I doubt I'll be back here again, but I know he loved it here on this island so it'd be nice if you could tell the part of his spirit that remains here that his father loved him very much."

Catherine could only nod as she watched the man turn and walk away. She folded the document and stuffed it back inside the envelope, unable to face it at the moment. Her fingers reached out to touch the cool marble wall and trace the letters of her friend's name.

"William Thomas Harrington," Steve spoke them at the same time as she touched them, "A hell of a soldier and a good friend," he memorialized.

"I know how he felt," Catherine whispered, her voice raw.

"How who…"

"Billy," she smiled sadly, much the same as Tom had just before departing, "When Marty died he said he'd return all the money if it meant he could get his friend back. I said I understood, but I don't think I really did until now… I'd give back whatever it is he left me if it meant Billy was still here."

Steve wrapped one arm about her shoulders finding it hard not to think about Freddie, "I know you would."

000

He was roused from a peaceful sleep by the sensation of something warm and wiggly beside him.

Steve blinked a few times before his eyes finally opened and glanced to his left. He spotted Evan there next to him, the little guy lying on his back. The boy had on a white snap-up outfit with a snowman on the front and he was reaching out with one hand to grab his pajama-clad foot. Evan's other hand had a small stuffed toy of some sort in his grasp. Steve looked over to see Catherine propped on her side across from the baby, "Merry Christmas, Commander," she greeted him.

"Merry Christmas, Lieutenant," Steve leaned on his elbow, careful not to squish his son as he kissed her, a longer kiss than most they'd shared the last few weeks. His eyes held hers for a while, remembering how they'd woken up a year ago in a familiar position, minus the baby between them. His gaze went to Evan again, the boy still trying to stuff his foot in his mouth, "Merry Christmas, champ," Steve pressed a soft kiss against the boy's forehead.

Trooper barked from her spot curled up at the foot of the bed.

Catherine pointed to the large yellow lab, "I think she's a little jealous about not being the baby of the family anymore."

Scooting down a little, Steve reached out to scratch behind the dog's ear, much to her delight, "Merry Christmas, Trooper. You'll always be our first baby, our big blonde baby," he cooed. Steve looked up to see Catherine smiling at him, "What?"

"Nothing, just never thought I'd see you being so goofy over a dog," her smile remained as Evan let go of the stuffed object in his hand, "Whoops, here," Catherine handed it back, hoping Evan would latch on to it again. When he did, she caught Steve's attention and pointed to the stuffed toy. "I think it's for you," she whispered.

With a surprised look in his eyes, Steve settled down next to Evan again, "Is that for me, champ?" he asked.

The baby dropped it again so Steve picked it up. He finally realized it was a stuffed green Christmas tree and there was a pocket in the center of it.

Feeling around inside, Steve pulled out a slip of paper. He unfolded it and read, "Merry Christmas, daddy." His eyes immediately shot to Catherine, "I suppose he wrote this all by himself?" Steve asked, even though he knew it was Catherine's handwriting, "Impressive."

"I know, right?" she grinned, keeping up the ruse. It had been two days since Billy's memorial and she still hadn't read over the legal document Tom Harrington had given her. She'd put all her efforts into trying to have a happy holiday, if that was possible. "I like the tradition of waking up and greeting each other on Christmas morning," Catherine said as she let her hand rest atop Evan's belly, "So… I was nursing Evan earlier this morning and he and I decided that we want to spend all Christmas day in bed with you. What do you think?"

Steve's face fell, "Cath, there's something I need to tell you," one of his hands rested against hers atop Evan's tummy, "I don't think you're going to like it, but I planned a surprise for you today," he confessed, "I know last year's surprise went well, but this one," Steve paused, seeing her questioning brown eyes aimed at him with intensity, "I invited some people over to spend the morning with us."

"Oh," Catherine hadn't been expecting that surprise, "Who, your mom and Mick?"

"Uh, well…"

"Danny and Grace?" she remembered their last Christmas spent ice skating and the snowball fight that had occurred in their front yard.

"Yeah, all of them," Steve nodded, "Also, Kono and Adam," he watched as she seemed to be okay with that, "Chin and Leilani, Max and Sabrina, Kamekona…"

She chewed her lip, "That's a few more than I... Steve, I'm not sure I want to see them all at once."

"There's more," he added, "I also talked to your dad last week and arranged for him, your mom, Ted and Mary to fly here for Christmas. They arrived last night."

Her eyes widened and lips pursed. He could tell she was upset even before she pulled her hand away from him.

"Before you bite my head off," Steve tried to appease her, "Your dad made all the arrangements for them using military channels. He got your mom and Ted over to Coronado where they met up with him and Mary. Then they all flew into Pearl-Hickman on a secure military transport." He could see her relax a little, though still upset, "You know your dad, he checked security clearances for everyone on that transport. He promised me he'd keep them safe. And they are. Although keeping your mother at a hotel last night was…"

"I don't know if I can," Catherine sighed, picking up Evan and holding him on her lap almost like a security blanket.

He sat up, nodding, "I should've told you and I'm sorry, but they love you, Cath. They all want to see you," Steve tried to persuade her, "Your mom wanted to come straight here last night after they landed, it's killing her not to see you, not to be able to know you're really okay, hug you." He could still see her struggling, "Do you remember last Thanksgiving when you wanted my mom and Mary here to celebrate with us? I know you wanted your parents here, too, but figured they'd never visit together… well, they are today."

"Yes, but…"

Steve rubbed his palm against her knee, "I wanted to do this for you, Catherine, because of how you wanted to make last year special for me. I wanted to do something special for you and…" he sighed, "Are you really going to make me say something corny about how you make my life special just by you being a part of it?"

She cracked a smile, "No, that would be corny. And I like that you're not corny."

"I kind of overheard you a few nights ago," he confessed, "You were having a private chat with the little guy there," Steve nodded toward the baby, "I know you're worried about seeing them again," he hoped bringing it up might help.

Catherine wasn't upset about him having heard that, "I'm worried what they'll think about me… about how I didn't fight back enough."

"Hey," Steve looked her in the eye, "You fought back," he insisted, "Are you kidding me? You fought like crazy, and you don't have anything to be worried about," Steve spoke with confidence, "Your parents, my mom, Mary, all of your best friends are coming here this morning because they want to see you… because they love you and they've missed you, and they also want to meet Evan. No one will judge you, Cath."

Her lower lip took the brunt of her frustration, "I hate this," Catherine shook her head, fury creeping in, "I hate the way he's made me feel indecisive, and… and fearful of my own family and friends' reactions. And the way I question what I did. I hate that. I hate him," she whispered angrily.

Steve wrapped his arms around her, mindful of the baby again, "Then keep fighting him, Catherine, don't let him win," he encouraged.

Her head nodded, "Okay, but… can you just give me a little time to…"

The doorbell rang causing Steve to wince, "Shoot, I forgot I asked Doris to get here early and help me tidy up a bit." He kissed her again then jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and dashed down the stairs to let his mother in.

Catherine continued to battle her conflicting emotions as she put Evan down in the crib long enough to shower and get dressed. She wore a pair of black leggings and a dark green cotton shirt that buttoned down the front. By the time Steve reappeared in the bedroom's doorway she'd heard the doorbell ring several more times and could hear light chatter drift up the stairs. She was seated on their bed again, Evan in her arms.

"So, everyone's here," Steve let her know, "And I completely forgot I invited Grover and his daughter, but other than that it's just the people I told you about earlier."

"My mom's here?" she asked, "Downstairs?"

He nodded, "You feeling any better about that?"

"How do I look?" she asked.

"How do you…" he smiled, "Cath, you look great," Steve assured, "This is a seriously casual thing, people are in jeans down there, okay? It's not a big deal."

Evan fussed, twisting in her arms and rooting around against her chest. Catherine was actually grateful of her son's current hunger cry, "I should feed him and then probably change him, but…" she unbuttoned her shirt, "Then I'll come down."

Steve smiled, "Alright," he allowed her to keep stalling, "I'll see you in a few."

She took a shaky breath as Evan latched on to her left side, "When did I turn into a coward, nugget?" Catherine asked, "Is that the example I want to set for you? No," she answered as the baby suckled. She ran her fingers softly against his soft brown hair, wondering what he'd look like as he got older. She was lost somewhere in his teenaged years when there was a gentle knock at the door.

"Steve?" Catherine called out.

"Nope, it's me," a much more feminine voice called out. "Me, Grace," the girl clarified, "Can I come in?"

Catherine smiled, actually excited to see the girl, "Absolutely," she beckoned with one hand.

Grace was already inside as Catherine reached for a blanket to cover herself, "You don't have to," the girl said as she walked right over and plopped herself down on the bed, legs crisscrossed in front of her. She held a small paper plate in one hand, "I saw my mom nurse Charlie. If it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother me," Grace shrugged, holding out the plate, "I brought you a sugar cookie because I was worried Danno might eat them all," Grace grinned, "They're his favorite. I wanted to make sure you got one."

"Did you make these?" Catherine asked, looking down at the snowman shaped sugar cookie.

The girl nodded, clearly proud of her accomplishment, "Well, my mom helped a little"

"Thank you," Catherine used her free hand to pick up the cookie and took a small bite before setting it back on the plate. "Wow, that's very good," she praised, reaching her hand out to Grace. Catherine smiled when the girl took it and squeezed, "How're you doing, Gracie?" she asked, "Are you confused by my being back?"

"I was at first, a little," Grace nodded, her soft brown eyes turning thoughtful, "We had a funeral for you, not the big one I went to, but the one on the water for Uncle Steve. He was really sad and that made me sad," the girl revealed. "Then I took snapdragon flowers to your grave, blue ones, because I know you like blue."

"I'm so sorry you had to deal with all that, Gracie," Catherine replied.

"Not your fault," she shrugged, "I don't want you or Uncle Steve to be sad anymore because you're back now. That should make us all happy. It makes me happy," Grace declared. "And next Christmas maybe we can take Evan ice skating," she grinned, "It was so much fun when you taught me last year."

It was impressive to see how easily the girl seemed to handle the situation. Her innocent outlook helped put Catherine at ease, "That sounds like a great plan, although Evan might be a little small for ice skating."

"Danno told me Evan had huge feet like Uncle Steve flipper feet," the girl grinned, "I know you won't…" Grace hesitated a moment, growing serious, "You probably won't have time to do stuff with me now that you have Evan, but…"

"Grace, that's not true," Catherine interrupted, "I'll always have time for you. You're my friend," she stressed, "And I think I still owe you an eighties movie marathon one of these days, don't I? Sixteen Candles… The Breakfast Club… I still can't believe your parents have failed to share those classics with you."

Grace giggled, "I figured you'd forget."

"No way," Catherine shook her head, "We will have eighties night. That's a promise."

"Okay," the girl nodded enthusiastically as another knock sounded at the door.

Kono stuck her head in the room, "Hey, I thought I saw Grace heading up here. Your dad's looking for you," she told the girl, "He answered your cell phone… your mom is calling from Vegas to talk to you."

"Mommy!" Grace jumped up, "Gotta go," she rushed over to kiss Catherine on the cheek, "I'll see you downstairs."

Catherine watched the girl dash out of the room, "Hi, Kono," she finally greeted.

"Mele Kalikimaka," Kono replied as she noticed the baby nursing, "Whoa, does that hurt?" she asked, making a face.

"A little at first," Catherine responded, "But I'm used to it now."

Kono was impressed by how at ease Catherine seemed with the baby sucking on her, "So," Kono ventured to change the subject, "Steve kinda let it slip that you don't really like to be asked how you are, but I say that's something a friend worries about. And you're a friend of mine…" she waved a hand at Catherine's neck, "How you feeling? How's the neck?"

"Doesn't really hurt," Catherine didn't mind explaining to Kono, "I get these odd sore throats occasionally but they don't last long. My doctor says there's no nerve damage. She thinks my sore throats are probably psychosomatic, all in my head. I try to explain it's my neck, not my head, but…"

Kono chuckled, glad to see she was in relatively good spirits despite everything. "You're not wearing the scarf?"

Catherine shook her head, "Decided just to wear my scars. Steve said they're proof of what I went through and that I came out alive. I kinda like that."

"Me, too," Kono agreed, reaching out to take Catherine's hand, "You're pretty amazing, sister."

"I don't always feel that way," Catherine admitted.

Squeezing her hand a little tighter, Kono smiled supportively, "Then I'll just have to keep reminding you." She got up, "I'll let you two have some privacy, and I should probably rescue Adam from Kamekona. Last I heard he was telling Adam some story about a fifty pound shrimp," Kono shrugged. "It's good to see you," she waved.

She carefully switched Evan from one breast to the other. He let out a tiny mewl of irritation before quickly latching on to the other side. Catherine sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, happy to have seen Grace and Kono, but still a bit nervous about a whole crowd. When she re-opened her eyes someone else was standing in the doorway.

Tears filled her eyes and her breath hitched as her mom walked into the room.

Elizabeth marched across the room and wrapped both arms about Catherine's shoulders. She held on for as long as she could before Evan let out a tiny cry, "Sorry, nugget," Catherine's attention went to the boy, caressing his fat cheek as he settled again.

Her mother sat there for what seemed like a long time, silently watching them.

"Mom, this is Evan," Catherine finally introduced them, "Your grandson."

"He's absolutely gorgeous," Elizabeth beamed, "Looks so much like Steve."

"We're hoping he still might grow out of that phase," Catherine quipped, finding it easier than she'd imagined, chatting with her mom like old times.

"And he seems to take after your father," the older woman noted, "David always did like a good meal."

Those words surprised Catherine a little, more so the fact that her mother had brought up her father by name. That was something she didn't think had happened for nearly fifteen years, "Why'd you marry daddy?" Catherine felt the words leave her lips before she could even think to stop them, "Was it because you were pregnant with me?"

"No," Elizabeth didn't seem flustered by the question. "I married your dad because I was in love, completely, desperately, ridiculously in love," she chuckled dryly, "We only got married so quickly because he was about to be sent off to basic training."

"Not because you were pregnant?" Catherine was shocked by what she was hearing.

A quick shake of her head was given, "Our parents weren't amused by that surprise. It was still rather frowned upon in those days, but we didn't mind. You have sex, these things happen," she was frank about it, "I hope you know you were a surprise, not a mistake. We met nearly two years before you were conceived and we talked about wanting marriage and kids. We were still so young, though, barely out of high school and thinking kids wouldn't come along for a long time."

Catherine was a bit floored by that news, having thought for so long that she'd been the root of their failed relationship, "If you loved him so much then…"

"What went wrong?" her mother promptly guessed the question on Catherine's mind, "Easy answer is the Navy. That was always my go-to, and it's partially true. The Iran-Iraq war changed your father. When we met he was easy going and excited about life. He wanted to take me traveling, to Europe and South America. We had all these big plans, and when you were born we wanted to cart you along with us."

"You kind of did," Catherine realized, "In the Navy."

Elizabeth sighed, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind Catherine's ear. "After his first tour your father came home alive, but he was different. He was distant. He was depressed and wouldn't admit it," she revealed. "His experiences were more than he'd been prepared for. He got through it, though, climbed his way up the ranks. David was good at his job, very good. But he was never the same. Every battle, every deployment, he came back harder around the edges."

"Mom, I never… I didn't realize," Catherine struggled to find the right words, but none seemed sufficient.

"That's because we both did our best to keep it from you," Elizabeth bit her lip, "He was a good father to you, and you idolized him. I wanted so badly to dissuade you from joining the Navy, but you were meant for that life. You took great pride in service to your country. I just prayed you'd be strong enough to overcome the things he couldn't." The older woman wore a regretful look, "I wish I'd known how to deal with David's depression better. That was before the days when they stressed PTSD awareness. I didn't understand it, and he wouldn't talk about it. So we just ended up fighting all the time. But I always loved him - part of me still does and always will because he gave me you and Ben."

Catherine felt a bit shell shocked for a moment, not even realizing that Evan had drifted asleep. She numbly buttoned her shift and cradled Evan, feeling his warm breath against her arm. "Do you love Ted?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"I do, very much," Elizabeth's eyes lit, such a different reaction than when she'd spoken about David, "I know he's not a very exciting man, certainly not as worldly as your father, but he's a good man. He's smart, works hard, and he makes me very happy."

"I'm glad you're happy, mom," Catherine smiled, looking down at Evan again, "He likes when I sing Chicago songs or a little Bye Bye Birdie medley… just like you used to sing to me when I was little and scared because daddy was gone, or when I was sick," she recalled, "I hope I can be half as good a mom as you were to me."

"You will be, and you'll also make mistakes," Elizabeth spoke from experience, "You'll learn that you're never going to be perfect no matter how hard you try. Motherhood is one of the most difficult jobs, but also the best," she insisted, "At least it has been in my experience," one hand reached out to her daughter again, "I still can't believe you're alive."

With her fears resurfacing, Catherine could only whisper, "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked, "From what Doris told me, you fought like hell to get home. You're stronger than me and your father combined, Catherine."

"I missed you, mom," Catherine let her know, "There were so many times I wanted to talk to you about being pregnant and… I remembered all those times you hounded me about getting married and having a family. It made me laugh."

Elizabeth hugged her again, "I missed you, too, baby. I'm glad I was with you in thought." As much as she wanted to stay there and hold onto her daughter, she knew Catherine needed some time to process seeing her again. "There are some other people here who'd like to see you. I hope you'll join us downstairs. Ted is here. He brought you a special gift today," Elizabeth said as she stood, kissing Catherine's forehead, "A pair of shoes," she grinned.

Catherine chuckled, "That's really nice of him."

"Yeah, he said he remembered you liked wearing those flats and how they're not very good for you now lugging around a baby. He found some brand of flats that have more support, wants you to be his test subject and report back. He's thinking about selling them in the store," Elizabeth chatted on like nothing had really happened the last year, "Oh, and Hank wanted me to say hello for him," she relayed, "He was at your funeral."

"Steve mentioned that," Catherine nodded, finding it odd to talk about. "How is Hank? He was always nice to me, trying to talk to me and… I usually brushed him off," she realized.

"He's doing really well, just started teaching at a new school this fall, fifth grade," her mother relayed, "I've always had the feeling he's more like his mother than the other boys or even Ted. He's so patient with kids, really sweet with his nieces. It's kind of funny how George has two little girls now and we just found out last week Isaac's wife is pregnant with a girl. Ted, who had three sons, will now have three granddaughters."

"You really care about them, don't you, all of them?" Catherine asked, listening to her mother.

"Ted and those boys are my family," Elizabeth nodded, "I love them."

"I'm sorry I've never been very supportive of you and Ted," Catherine suddenly felt bad about it.

"They're your family, too," Elizabeth stressed, "If you give them a chance."

"Ted does have one grandson," Catherine nodded toward Evan. "I know it makes Steve sad that his father didn't get to meet Evan, and daddy's never going to give up his naval career. I'm guessing Mick will be around, but… I think it would be good for Evan to have Ted in his life, too."

"He'd like that," her mother smiled, "I know I would."

Catherine took a deep breath, "I thought you'd be upset with me."

"About not wanting to be close to Ted's family all these years," Elizabeth shrugged, "I never wanted to push that on you."

"No, about what happened," she sighed, "Me being taken by Lawson. I'm so sorry you had to go through that, mom."

"I don't blame you for what happened," Elizabeth assured her, "I'm proud of you. I love you. That's all. You love your kids, no matter what."

"Uh huh," Catherine nodded, relief rolling over her, "Even when they're super stinky," her nose scrunched as she caught a whiff of her son's obviously messy diaper. "You remember how to change a diaper, don't you, mom?" she held the sleeping boy out to Elizabeth. Catherine smiled through her tears when her mother edged toward the door. "You've gotten wimpy, mom," she called after her, "What about that nursing assistant job you took? You leave those poor people in messy diapers?" Catherine taunted.

"I get paid to do that," Elizabeth chuckled, "Being a grandma means I get to do the fun things, no diaper changes."

Catherine smiled to hear her mom laughing as she descended the stairs. "Grandma Liz loves you, stink and all," she assured Evan who was still fast asleep as she changed his messy diaper. "You've got a lot of people who love you, nugget," Catherine continued to talk to him, his eyes closed, lashes fanned out and his little mouth twitching. "I can't believe it's your first Christmas morning, and you're sleeping through it."

"Are you talking to yourself?"

Catherine looked over her shoulder. As soon as she spotted Mary, tears filled her eyes again.

"What're you crying about?" Mary asked as she crossed the room, "I'm the one who should be crying to see you again. Seeing me isn't a big deal," Steve's sister hugged her.

"Yes, it is. It is to me," Catherine insisted.

Mary pulled away and looked down at the baby, "Is this my nephew, Evan, I've heard so much about? He's adorable, hope he grows out of the Steve phase, though." The younger woman looked to Catherine again, chatting away like nothing was amiss, a lot like Elizabeth had a few minutes ago, "Okay, so… don't be mad, but Steve told me what you did. You know, about you being on that ship because you were protecting me."

"I wish he hadn't told you that," Catherine shook her head, "But I'm not mad. And please do not ever feel guilty or…"

"Don't feel guilty?" Mary scoffed as she sat down on the bed and rested a hand against Even's stomach, "What do I have to feel guilty about?" she winked, glossing over the subject because she could tell Catherine was worrying about it, "You know you promised to watch those ice skating programs with me when you got back," Mary shook her head, "And I can't believe I just said that. What kind of idiot am I?" she berated herself, "Ice skating is probably the last thing you want to be reminded of after the attack at the Olympics before… jeez, Mare, stick your foot in it why don't you?"

Catherine grinned, "Thank you for being you, Mary. I still love ice skating, and I'd be happy to watch with you."

"Did you name Evan after the ice skater Evan Lysacek? Steve said you named him after dad, but… you can tell me the truth," she prodded. "Steve would probably flip out if he knew you named him after a figure skater. That would be funny."

"Nope, it was after your dad," Catherine confirmed, feeling a great deal more relaxed in Mary's presence.

A large shadow fell across the room and both women looked to the doorway to see Kamekona's hulking form standing there.

"I seen some people coming up here to visit with you," the man said, "I didn't really think it was appropriate for me to be in the sacred bedroom of Steve McGarrett and the lovely Catherine, but I wanted you to know I was here," he grinned, "And I also brought you shrimp scampi and shaved ice, so the little guy can have his first free samples through your mother's milk," Kamekona blushed a little, "Sorry, that was probably inappropriate of me as well."

"A little, but don't worry about it Kami," Catherine smiled reassuringly, "It's so good to see you. And I'm sure Evan is going to love his free samples."

"That's what I'm talking about, he'll be a regular customer just like his gorgeous mother," Kamekona nodded.

"Uh-hem," someone cleared their throat from behind Kamekona, "Excuse me, I was told my daughter's room is up here?"

Catherine instantly recognized the gruff tone of her father's voice. "Daddy?"

Kamekona backed out into the hallway and David did his best to stand clear of the man's girth. When the giant entrepreneur headed for the stairs, David stood in the doorway peering into the room. "Hiya, princess," he smiled to see Catherine.

"I'll just, uh…" Mary jumped up, "Give you two some…" she fled the room, narrowly skirting past the admiral.

"Hiya, daddy," she replied in the same manner since she'd first learned to talk. Catherine glanced over to make sure Evan was asleep and far enough away from the edge of the bed to be safe. She stepped forward and hugged her father, burying her face against his supportive shoulder and inhaling the same cologne he'd worn as long as she could remember.

He kissed the top of her head and pulled away, "I have something for you," David reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a gold chain. "Your friend, officer Kalakaua, gave this to me just a few minutes ago. She said she forgot it was in her office desk drawer."

She spotted the small arrow hanging on the chain and grinned, recalling the eleventh birthday when he'd first given it to her.

"Looks like something's been carved on the back," David noticed.

"Evan," Catherine nodded, "I wrote his name on there as a message for Steve when…"

"Turn around," David gently instructed, sensing that the words she wanted to say were too burdensome at the moment. He draped the necklace across her neck and clasped it. Then he turned her around to face him again, "From everything Steve told me… you truly are my little warrior princess."

"Thank you for being here, dad," Catherine said, "And for getting everyone here safely, especially mom."

He nodded, "Liz has been so upset about all this… she actually called me a few times this year just to talk. I don't think we've talked like that for ages. I'm just sorry it took losing you for us to reconnect, but it's been nice. And I finally met Ted, seems like a decent guy. I'm taking them both on a tour of Pearl-Hickman tomorrow."

Catherine found herself smiling, even though she was pretty sure she'd just landed in some pod person world. "That's great."

"Steve asked me to…" Doris stood in the bedroom's doorway, "Oh, I'm sorry… I didn't realize anyone else was up here."

David kissed his daughter's cheek, "I'll see you downstairs," he said before departing.

"He wanted you to check on me?" Catherine guessed as she went back to the bed to where Evan was.

Doris nodded as she sat at the foot of the bed facing Catherine and the baby, "He worries about you, so do I."

She looked to Doris, thankful of all the support the woman had lent the last few weeks. Mostly Doris had stuck close, helping out, but never pushing her. "What you went through with Wo Min, it was kind of similar, wasn't it?" Catherine asked. She watched Doris nod, "Every time I've taken a life I've felt some bit of remorse, even though it was in battle. But with Wo Fat… I wanted him dead, I wanted to…" Catherine swallowed, "I know you tried to help by telling him about An, and I admire that about you, but…"

"It's okay," Doris interrupted, "I was foolish for thinking I could help Wo Fat. That was never an achievable goal, not when he was five, and certainly not a few years ago," she realized with a regretful sigh, "And I know Steve hates me for what I did, or I guess what I didn't do - not killing Wo Fat when I had the chance."

"He doesn't hate you," Catherine knew that for a fact though he'd never actually said the words to her, "I know he wishes all of this could've been avoided and so do I, but I don't think killing Wo Fat when you had the chance would've undone this. Lawson was already way too focused on getting revenge on John by using Steve. He would've found a way to do all this without Wo Fat's support. I'm certain of that."

"You're a very forgiving person, Catherine," Doris observed, not feeling worthy of such.

"Only when I feel someone deserves it," she hoped her point was made.

"I can't imagine my son with any other woman in his life," Doris admired, "Your strength and devotion is a rare combination, Catherine. I wish I had it."

Her head shook, "I don't feel very strong right now."

"But you are," Doris insisted, "Catherine, you had a chance to get away. Steve and Danny took you off that boat and you could've stayed away, but you went back. You faced your demons head on and… that takes a heck of a lot more courage than running away," the older woman sighed, knowing that's exactly what she'd been doing for over twenty years. "I hope you understand what a truly resilient person you are."

There was still hesitance in Catherine's mind as she heard those words.

"I believe all of the people gathered here today," Doris added, "Your o'hana, they're here because they know as well as I do what a good person you are," Doris stood, "You come down when you're ready, or stay up here if you want. I won't pressure you."

She watched Steve's mom exit the room before scooping Evan up and holding him against her chest. "What do you think, nugget, should we join the party downstairs?"

Catherine thought about how easy it had been to see a few of her friends and her parents, and she wondered why she'd been so afraid in the first place. As she walked down the stairs with Evan in her arms she noticed how bright and festive the living room was, sunshine was flooding in through the open windows, and the tall fake Christmas tree in one corner twinkling with multi-colored lights. Grover and his daughter were the first people she saw and they smiled at her.

"It's good to see you," Grover said, a big gentle hand on her shoulder, "Hope you don't mind us being here."

"Not at all," Catherine returned their smiles, recalling how the man had butted heads with Steve more than once. But she also remembered the SWAT Captain being in the hospital exam room after Steve had been shot in the shoulder, and how concerned he'd seemed.

Danny greeted her with a big hug, mindful of the baby, "Merry Christmas," he wished her upon pulling away, "Merry Christmas, little guy," Danny said to the baby whose eyes opened slowly, blinking and glancing around to take in the people and surroundings as Catherine walked toward the tree.

Evan awoke fully, seeming interested in the tree lights as his left arm reached outward to try and touch one green, plastic branch. Catherine pointed out one ornament in particular, the bed ornament Steve had gotten for her last year. She could barely believe that had only been a year ago. Catherine noticed something tacked to the wall next to the tree, a small blue camouflage print stocking with Evan's name stitched across it, "Look, nugget, that's for you," she smiled.

"Mom found him one like the one she got me when I was little, except Evan's is Navy camouflage," Steve stood beside them and kissed Catherine on the lips, "I'm glad you came down."

"Me, too," she nodded.

Max and Sabrina approached as the room filled with everyone else who had come to be with them that morning, "I have something of importance to give you," the medical examiner announced as he handed Catherine a framed document, "This is your official undead certificate," he proclaimed. "It is actually the death certificate I sighed for you, but now I have altered it slightly, and Sabrina helped me with the zombie graphics," Max concluded.

Catherine was actually very touched by the comical gesture on the doctor's part, seeing the word death crossed out and undead scribbled in above it, "Thank you, Max."

"Yes, well, now you should be able to get a driver's license again," Max added, "Social security card re-issued. Usually this sort of thing can take months of bureaucracy and red tape, but I pulled some strings with the governor and a judge friend of mine," he proudly boasted.

"You have no idea what this means to me," she kissed Max on the cheek and was amused by the way he blushed.

Sabrina smiled as she handed Max something else, "He also got a birth certificate for Evan," the young woman said.

"You'll just need to fill in parent's names, Evan's legal name and date of birth," Max instructed, handing over the piece of paper and a pen to Steve.

"You want to do this or…" Steve held the certificate to Catherine.

Her head shook as she held tight to Evan, "You know his name and birthdate."

Steve nodded, quickly filling the form out. He signed it and then held it for Catherine to sign. When that was completed he faced the group, "I'd like to officially introduce you to our son," he looked down at the baby and grinned proudly, "Evan Frederick McGarrett."

Danny smiled, "That's nice, naming him after your buddy, Freddie."

"Yeah," Steve fought to speak over the lump in his throat, "I was thinking about going with Daniel, but…"

"Oh, please," Danny scrunched his nose, "His first and middle initials woulda been E.D.," he shuttered, "Best not to give the schoolyard bullies any ammunition to start with," the detective grinned. "And, you know, there's always the next one to consider naming after me, unless it's a girl," Danny quipped.

"Next one?" Steve asked, daring to glance over at Catherine. She didn't seem to have overheard Danny's comment as she kissed Evan.

David Rollins stepped forward and presented a wrapped box to his daughter, shimmery green paper adorned with a big red bow. "I figured I'd start this party off since my gift could come in handy for documentation purposes."

"Gifts?" Catherine looked to Steve, "You shouldn't have told people to bring Christmas gifts."

"This is actually a Christmas themed baby shower, so they're baby shower gifts," Steve clarified, "Because we didn't get to have one of those before the little guy was born."

She tried hard to hold her emotions in check, "You're full of surprises today, aren't you?"

Steve nodded as he reached out and took Evan from her. He held the boy by his underarms for a moment, kissing his cheek as David handed Catherine the gift box. Steve then passed Evan off to his grandfather, "About time you got to meet your grandpa," Steve spoke to the boy as David held him. It was hard for Steve to watch David's awe-filled reaction upon first holding his grandson, knowing his father would never get that chance.

David gazed down at the boy remembering the first time he'd held his son, Ben. He looked to Steve and pressed a hand against the younger man's forearm, "Maybe…" his gruff voice quavered a moment, "Maybe they're both here with us in this little one," the Navy admiral voiced.

With an emotional nod, Steve was touched to hear David referring to John and Ben being with them.

Catherine swiped away a tear, having overheard Steve and her father. She plopped down on the sofa with her gift and tore into the paper, removed the lid and smiled to see the fancy new cell phone. "This is great," she smiled up at her dad, "I needed this."

"Supposedly that's one of the best camera phones on the market. There's a sixty-four MB memory card in there and it takes 1080p video. The saleslady who helped me said that was all good," David shrugged. "I was going to get you a real camera, but then Steve mentioned you needed a cell phone. I just wanted to be sure and get a good one so you can take as many photos and videos of my grandson as possible," David pointed out.

"Thank you, Daddy," Catherine beamed.

"I expect to see pictures every day in my email," David stressed as he bounced Evan and was rewarded with a big toothless grin from the boy.

"Yes, sir," she snapped a military-style reply, smiling to see her dad and Evan interact.

Danny stepped forward as Steve sat down beside Catherine, "This is slightly less fancy," he handed a small package to Steve that was wrapped in red foil paper, "But hopefully very practical. Wish they'd had these back when my sisters had their sons."

Steve opened the gift and stared at the soft cone-shaped objects for a moment, "What the heck is a pee-pee teepee?" he finally asked.

There were a few chuckles over the item name, but Danny reached out and flipped the package over, "Diagrams for newbies," he pointed out. "See, when you pull off the diaper you slip one of those over Evan's fire hose and, presto! No pee-pee shooting all over the place," Danny explained as Grace practically doubled over with laughter beside him.

"Now that is a great gift," Steve nodded, shaking his friend's hand. "Thank you."

"My turn," Grace thrust her small silver and blue wrapped package outward, handing it to Catherine. "It's for Evan, but you should open it for him," the girl insisted.

Catherine did as instructed and grinned as she pulled out the red and blue superhero cape bib. "This is adorable," she had to admit.

"I heard Danno call Uncle Steve Super SEAL once, so I figured Evan should have a superhero cape so he can be like his daddy," Grace explained.

"I like that, Gracie," Steve leaned forward and shared a fist bump with the girl.

"Super Nugget," Catherine chuckled as she snapped the bib around Evan's neck.

Steve's brows arched as he saw Evan drool onto the new bib, christening it. "More like Super Dribbler," he declared.

There were several more gifts, a blue, green and white handmade baby quilt from Elizabeth that had been made by herself and two of Catherine's aunts. Doris gave them an old blue and gray crocheted blanket that had been Steve's as a boy. Mary and Kono both gave Catherine gifts just for her, fancy body sprays and lotions, a comfy silky bathrobe and bubble bath salts. Ted gave Catherine the flats that were supportive and surprisingly stylish. Grover and his daughter gave Evan three cute outfits, all in hues of red, white and blue.

Max and Sabrina gave them two huge boxes of diapers. Chin and Leilani opted for the equally practical gift of crib bedding, but also a fluffy stuffed teddy bear.

Kamekona even gave the baby a gift, a certificate for free helicopter flying lessons when he was old enough.

"I think there's still one more thing," Steve got up, noticing that Catherine looked a little overwhelmed by all the generous gifts. "Don't go anywhere," he pointed a finger at her as he exited the room. He walked back in a few minutes later with a large, blue, three-wheeled stroller. It had a huge red ribbon snaked around it, "A jogging stroller, because I know you like to jog," Steve presented the gift to her, knowing she hadn't been out jogging a single time since returning.

Catherine got up, walked over and kissed him. "I love this," she said, checking it out.

"Sales guy said it should be good for the beach," Steve noted, "So we can resume our morning jogs with Trooper and now Super McBaby, except you're supposed to wait until he's a little older, six to eight months unless you have that car seat adapter thing, but I think that adapter is just for strolling, not jogging. And you're meant to talk to your pediatrician about all this, too, make sure his little head is okay for all that jiggling around," he took a breath, "Never realized all this kid stuff was so complicated.

She chuckled, loving the way he was so thorough and over-protective. "Thank you," Catherine kissed him again.

000

Steve had just returned the stroller to the garage and parked it in a corner when Grover entered.

"That right there is a classic," the police Captain remarked, pointing to the car, "I meant the Mercury, not that stroller that seems to be on steroids."

"Catherine likes to jog," Steve shrugged.

Grover nodded, taking another moment to admire the black Mercury, "I figured as much since you already mentioned it. That was a thoughtful gift you gave her. Never realized you could be such a nice guy," he looked up, seeing that Steve was shaking his head, "Seriously, though," Grover reached into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic bag, "Williams told me a couple weeks ago that you were asking about this," he handed over the evidence bag with the chain Steve had worn around his neck for months.

Catherine's military ID tag and ring were still attached.

"I was," Steve took the bag and stared at the gold and sapphire ring through the plastic. "Danny said it got lost in the evidence vault."

"Sorry about that," Grover shrugged, "Clerical errors are a bitch. Anyhow," the captain nodded, "Just wanted to make sure it got back to you."

Steve watched the man exit before he broke open the evidence bag. He pulled the chain out slowly, wondering what to do with it now that he had it back.

"Is that a ring?" David asked from his position in the open garage doorway. He walked into the small garage, running a finger along the shiny black Mercury, "This must be the car my daughter told me about, your father's old Mercury. She mentioned something last year about helping you bleed the brakes," he recalled. The Navy admiral looked to Steve, "She does a good job of covering up her emotions, afraid she might've learned that from me," David lamented.

"Catherine's better at letting her feeling show than I ever have been," Steve countered, "She's actually helped me be better at all that."

"Maybe you could tell me how she's really doing," the older man prodded.

"She's struggling a bit," Steve conveyed honestly, "But she's hanging in there."

"And do you intend to marry my daughter?" David eyed the ring in Steve's hand again. "I'm not saying you have to," he added, "Just curious."

"I'm not sure she wants to marry me," Steve turned around and placed the chain in one of the top compartments of his father's old tool chest.

"Have you asked?" her father inquired.

Steve faced him again, "Sorta, once… not really," he confessed.

"Well, if you ever do ask you have my permission," David said, "If young people these days even care about such things. I have to admit I didn't ask Elizabeth's father. He wasn't very happy about her getting pregnant before we were married. But I'm willing to overlook that fact where you and my daughter are concerned since I made the same choices. And I know you to be a good man. I hope, married or not, that you plan to stick around for her and Evan."

"I'm not going anywhere, sir," Steve confirmed.

"Good," David nodded, "That's good. Because she is the most precious thing in my life, and I just want her to be happy," he concluded.

Steve watched the man go, watched as Mary nearly collided with the admiral in the doorway.

Mary grinned sheepishly, "I think I keep getting in his way," she glanced over her shoulder then back to Steve, "We're about to eat, mom wanted me to find you."

His arm rested across her shoulders, "Yeah, and how are you and mom getting along?" Steve wondered.

"Fine, I guess," Mary shrugged, "We've talked a bunch since Catherine got back. Mom's been keeping me in the loop about stuff and she says she's staying on Oahu now, for good. It's kind of hard to believe her, but," the woman shrugged again, "Maybe she will this time. I think she really wants to be around for Evan, which is great. Don't get me wrong, but I guess I just wish she could've made that decision years ago, you know, wanting to stay here for us," Mary lamented.

He nodded, "Me, too, Mare."

"Remember at Thanksgiving when I said you and aunt Deb were the only family I had left?" she saw Steve nod, "I feel kind of bad I said that, but at the time I was mad at her again."

"And now you're not?" Steve wondered.

"It takes more effort to be mad," Mary replied, "And I don't want to be mad any more." She looked up at her brother, "So, have you asked her to marry you yet?"

"Who?"

"Jeez, lame-o, who do you think?" Mary's eyes rolled, "Catherine, mother of your child… ringing any bells for you, big brother?" she elbowed him in the side teasingly, but could see the serious look on his face, "This is one of those McGarrett male things, isn't it? God, you and dad are so much alike - never wanting to do anything wrong so you wait forever for the right moment. Except nothing can ever be exactly right, you know? Sometimes you just gotta go for it," she encouraged.

Steve sighed as he walked her toward the door, "Just go for it, huh?" he mulled over that approached.

000

"Oh, come on," Catherine groaned, eyes aimed at the TV screen, "That was a horrible call, even I could tell he was out of bounds."

Steve smiled as he listened to her.

Christmas day was only half over as they lounged on the sofa together watching the Cowboys vs. Seahawks football game.

Everyone had left an hour ago, though it had taken a lot of convincing on Ted's part to get Elizabeth to leave her daughter and grandson in favor of returning to the hotel. The promise of visiting again the next morning finally helped ease her separation anxiety. And as much as Catherine had appreciated the gathering, she was grateful to have the rest of the day to relax with her two guys. Evan was napping in his portable crib that Steve had set up downstairs. Trooper lay curled up by the front door, faithfully keeping watch over the family.

The TV flickered in the dimly lit room, curtains having been pulled to keep the space a bit darker for Evan's nap. "I like this," Catherine whispered as she pressed her back against Steve's torso, "I've missed this, you and me watching TV," she remarked, "Honestly never thought I'd get to enjoy such mundane things again."

"Who you calling mundane?" Steve asked gazing into her brown eyes as his body shifted to hover above her.

She swallowed nervously before he kissed her. Butterflies danced irrationally in her stomach as he gazed down at her desirously.

The golden flecks in Steve's eyes stood out, causing her to remember the first kiss they'd shared on the beach at Coronado. The kiss she'd initiated; a kiss which had led to much more than kissing that evening and well into the night – a kiss that had shifted everything in their lives. She remembered her nervousness while gazing into the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes that night as the sun set over the ocean. Catherine felt kind of silly for feeling like that again as she leaned into him and covered his lips with her own.

They'd kissed since she'd been back, but only simple kisses - a small one against the cheek or forehead, gentle and brief ones against the lips.

Sex had almost been forgotten those first three weeks, settling into a routine with Evan along with worry and work eating up so much of their days.

Now as she felt him clutching the hem of her shirt, tugging gently, Catherine allowed her anxiety to ease – allowed her body to react to his. He was the same man she'd danced with for hours against her better judgment, the same man who'd she been dancing around with for years as their careers and lives failed to align. The man who'd finally asked her to move in with him, patiently indulging her desire to buy a new bed. The man who'd gotten her a dog, and who'd fathered her child.

"Wait," he pulled away, catching his breath.

"Wait?" she looked up at him with desire and confusion.

"I just," Steve gulped, his body already way ahead of his worried mind, "Are you sure? I want you to be sure. I know what you went through with… actually, I don't know."

Her anxiety returned upon hearing those last few words, the realization that they'd never talked about it, "I want to tell you, Steve," her voice was low. "About…" she gulped each breath with effort. "But I don't know how."

"We can just talk," he offered, brushing the hair off her face.

She let out a shaky breath and rolled out from under him; wishing things didn't always have to end in a conversation. There'd been a time when she'd desired nothing more than a serious conversation with him, but now they always seemed to rehash the same thing, the last ten months of her life, "I never," Catherine tried to find better words, "We never…" she sighed, frustrated, not wanting to utter his name after the intimate moment she'd finally shared with Steve.

"If it's too much…" he tried to offer her an out. "I know I told you once that sex would always be a priority for me, and it still is, but I'll wait if you need me to. I'll wait for you."

His words broke her heart, because she knew they were true. "I never had sex with him," Catherine still didn't want to say his name.

That string of words caused Steve unbelievable relief, but also a great deal of confusion, "Then how did you convince him you were pregnant?"

Catherine sat up, realizing they were going to have the conversation, "It was all a part of our plan," she drew her knees up to her chin while speaking, "An helped me trick Wo Fat into thinking we'd had sex. She has a background in bio-chemical engineering and she... An created a patch, sort of like those nicotine patches people use to quit smoking or the birth control ones. She laced it with a combination of sedative and mild hallucinogen. Both drugs absorbed easily through the skin," she explained.

"Why didn't you say before?" he was impressed, and for the first time he thought maybe his mother and Catherine were right to put some trust in An.

"Because I still had to…" she nervously chewed on her lip, wanting to tell him everything, "The hallucinogen worked as a suggestive so we… I had to hint to him about what happened, what I wanted him to believe had happened. So before he passed out fully I had to kiss him a few times and suggest the smallest bit of…"

Steve nodded, "We don't have to talk about it anymore, Catherine. It's over."

"Is it?" she whispered doubtfully.

Evan chose that moment to wake up fussy.

"Okay, so it's not exactly the way things used to be," Catherine realized as she got up to fetch her son. She settled back on the sofa with him cuddled on her lap. Her blouse was undone and the baby began to suckle immediately, "I guess someone should get to enjoy these," she remarked, glancing down at her breasts as Steve remained close. "We're usually getting interrupted by something or someone, now it's our son."

He was glad to hear her say our son instead of just her son. Steve hoped that was improvement, but even though she'd joined the party and seemed willing to talk a bit more, he sensed there was still a lot she was holding inside. But he did his best to focus on the baby and simpler things at the moment, "We did this," Steve rubbed the boy's arm.

"Don't look so proud of yourself," she grinned.

"Why not?" Steve shrugged, "You were on birth control so that means my swimmers accomplished mission impossible. Way to go SEAL team," he boasted.

She chuckled softly, "Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?"

His eyes darkened, "But you knew I was alive, Catherine," Steve whispered, "I…" he sighed, "There were moments when I thought I'd never see you again." His forehead rested against the side of her head and he inhaled slowly, allowing himself to feel her, be aware of how real she was. Steve also couldn't help admire her full breasts.

"They won't last," she noticed him staring.

"How long do you think you're going to breast feed?" he asked.

"You know he usually eats anywhere from twenty and forty minutes," she shrugged.

Steve grinned, "I meant month wise?"

"Oh," Catherine realized, "From what I've read all the experts say you should breast feed exclusively for the first year. But I'm thinking maybe six months would be sufficient."

He nodded, "When you were away you'd pumped some milk for him and he used a bottle."

"That was a special circumstance," she wondered why he was asking, "Why all the questions?"

"I just thought," Steve shrugged, "It was kind of nice when I got to feed him."

Catherine kissed him, impressed by the way he allowed his feelings to be known, "Maybe we can do that a little more often then," she offered.

The doorbell rang. Trooper stood and barked at the door. Steve eyed Catherine, "I swear I didn't invite anyone else over today," he said as he got up to answer the door. A short dark haired man stood on the front porch with a large white envelope in his hands.

"Delivery for a…" he checked the electronic pad in his other hand, "Catherine Rollins. Needs a signature."

"I can sign for it," Steve agreed, using the ridiculous fake pen that made his signature look garbled.

"Merry Christmas," the delivery man chirped before leaving.

Steve closed and locked the door. Trooper curled back up in her spot. "Who delivers things on Christmas Day?" he wondered aloud, "And what did you order?"

Her head shook, "I didn't order anything." Catherine eyed the package suspiciously, "You open it."

He sat down next to her and the baby and carefully felt the package for a few seconds, making sure it didn't feel like anything of a dangerous nature. Determining it was safe, Steve slowly pried the sealed end open. He glanced inside and pulled out a small spiral bound notebook. The cover was royal blue and the corners looked fairly worn. Steve flipped through a few pages with curiosity, "What is this? It looks like someone wrote in crayon?"

Catherine felt her stomach flop again, but for a different reason. Her hand shot out to snatch the notebook from him. She flipped to the first page and her eyes lit.

"Cath, what is it?" Steve asked, telling she recognized the item.

She closed the notebook and handed it back to him, "It's for you," her smile was delighted, "It's your Christmas present."

000

Catherine left the bathroom, turning off the light and checking on Evan briefly before she crawled into bed.

Steve was seated on his side of the bed, pillows behind his back, white sheet pulled to his waist. The lamp on his side was lit and he held the notebook in one hand, flipping a page and concentrating on his reading before he finally looked away from the notebook. His eyes settled on Catherine as she slipped under the sheet next to him. She noticed how he kept looking at her but remained silent, "What?" she asked, "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You lied to me," Steve spoke in a serious voice.

"No," her tone was adamant.

His head nodded, "Yes, you lied to me, Catherine," he maintained.

"I don't think so…" she became hesitant, not at all sure what he was talking about.

With a dissatisfied sigh, Steve returned his attention to the book, one finger tapping the page, "When I asked about why you call Evan a nugget you made up something about nuggets being small and precious," his eyes returned to her, "But you named him after a chicken nugget."

"No, I didn't," Catherine shook her head, peeking over his arm to scan the notebook.

Steve showed her the entry as he read it, "Actually, it kind of looks like a chicken nugget with fingers, if a chicken nugget had fingers."

"Huh," she leaned against his shoulder with a smile, almost laughing, "I seriously forgot about that. I was hungry all the time back then so it's not very surprising. But it's just a nickname," Catherine shrugged, "I named him after your father, I told you that. It's in there somewhere, too."

"Sure," he agreed, "But I still have to associate my dad and chicken nuggets? I can't believe you gave our son a nickname after a piece of so-called food that's made of pink slime."

Catherine remembered something, wondering if it had subconsciously influenced Evan's nickname, "My dad reminds me of chicken nuggets."

"He does?" Steve asked.

She nodded, getting lost further in the memory, "Before every deployment he'd pull me out of school one afternoon and take me to McDonalds for lunch, and I'd always get the chicken nugget happy meal. It was the absolute only time I got to eat fast food, mom was a stickler. But those afternoons I got to have a treat with my dad before he left for several months."

"A treat, pink slime?" he was still disgusted.

Catherine frowned, "Like you never ate there as a kid?"

He couldn't say for certain he hadn't.

"I realize now they're disgusting," Catherine agreed with his stance, "But I was a kid spending time with my dad who I didn't get to hang out with very often. In my kid memory those were some of the best meals ever," she shrugged, "Other than our bologna, cheese and jam sandwiches."

"That's sweet," Steve kissed her, "But if I ever find out you're feeding my son pink slime nuggets or disgusting sandwiches…"

"You'll what?" she challenged.

"Well, I… I won't be very happy with you," he declared.

She grinned, "I'm so scared." Catherine leaned sideways to kiss him, "You're all bark and no bite."

Trooper barked from her spot next to Evan's crib.

"Not you," Catherine chuckled, feeling a little bit more like life was getting back to normal. "Shh," she shushed the canine, sneaking a glance over at Evan. The baby always managed to sleep well. He pretty much only woke up when he was hungry.

Steve glanced at the notebook again, "Do you think Lawson sent this to you?"

Her head shook, "No, it had to be An. She's the only one who knew about it. She must've been on the ship before it exploded, and she grabbed it for me."

"So you think we should trust her?" he asked.

"I…" Catherine replied with hesitance, "I'd like to trust her."

"I hope you're right," Steve said as he settled in again and began to read more.

000

It was too quiet when she woke up.

Catherine had spent the last several months waking up to Evan's cries, or waking up from a bad dream only to find she was still on the ship and actually stuck in the bad dream. As she opened her eyes now and rolled to her side she found Steve absent from their bed. He'd mentioned going to work, but she figured he would've at least woken her to say goodbye. But as she sat up, the quiet continued to press in on her and her heart beat faster.

She jumped out of bed and walked over to the portable crib.

Her heart nearly stopped its frantic beating all together when she saw that Evan wasn't in the crib.

"Steve?" her voice was a raw whisper, her movements sluggish. Catherine feared she was having another bad dream as she pulled on her lavender robe and dashed downstairs. She'd expressed some milk Christmas night after Steve had made it known he wanted to be a part of Evan's feedings. It seemed likely he'd woken with the boy and was too busy feeding him to respond. But when she entered the kitchen and found it empty her whole body tensed.

In a full panic now she moved from room to room, her eyes searching every small corner. Steve and Evan weren't in the house, nor was Trooper. She searched the garage and found the Mercury was parked, the stroller unmoved from the corner, and tools all in their place. Just past the fence in the front yard she spotted Steve's truck and her Corvette. Catherine went back into the house and used her new phone to dial his number. She heard his phone vibrating in the living room a second later.

"Damn it, this isn't…" she swallowed, not wanting to say funny. He'd never pull a prank on her like this.

Finally she moved to the backyard, rushing down the grassy lawn toward the beach. Catherine stopped where the grass gave way to sand.

Trooper came to her side.

She watched as Steve stood in the ocean up to his waist, Evan in his arms. He dipped the boy's toes in the water and Evan let go a happy squeal the likes she'd never heard.

Steve turned his head and caught her eye. "Catherine…" his mouth hung open worriedly as he noticed how pale she looked.

"I woke up and Evan was missing," she spoke with a great deal of difficulty, "I couldn't find you either…"

"Catherine, I'm so sorry," he lifted the boy's feet from the water. Evan kicked his legs, floppy sunhat hanging over his face, "I saw you asleep and Evan was cranky so I took him downstairs and fed him," he walked toward her, "Then I noticed how nice it was outside so we walked down to the water and I thought I'd put his feet in. He loves it," Steve smiled to see his son so carefree, stretching his long legs outward so his toes could touch the warm water again, "Just like he loves bath time."

Without another word, Catherine turned on her heel and headed back toward the house.

"Cath," Steve gripped Evan tightly as he waded through the water and quickly walked across the sand. "Catherine, I'm sorry, you have to know I didn't mean to worry you," he apologized, trying to catch up to her as she crossed the lawn. "I just wanted to let you sleep a little longer. I figured we'd be back inside before you…" Steve had to pull up short when she entered the house and slammed the back door in his face.

He winced, looking down at the baby, "She's pissed, champ."

She didn't speak to him again that morning, didn't even bother to say goodbye when he left for work.

Several hours later Steve sat at his desk at HQ and tried to concentrate on the report Grover had sent over, but his eyes kept getting stuck on the same line of text.

Danny knocked on his office door and entered without getting an okay, "Why do you look like someone just ran over your dog?" the detective wondered, "Crap, Trooper's okay, isn't she?" he quickly asked, feeling like an idiot for even suggesting such a thing.

"Trooper's fine," Steve pushed away from his desk and stood, "But I screwed up big time," he said before rattling off the morning scenario to his friend.

"Well…" Danny shrugged, trying to sympathize, "Maybe she needed the push," he suggested.

"Or maybe I've completely undone the last few days of progress," Steve sighed. "Yeah, sure, eventually she's gotta realize that sometimes I'm gonna want to do stuff with my son, and she won't always be there for it. But that's gonna take time, and I honestly never intended for her to wake up and find us both gone. She…" he took a deep breath, "Danny, you should've seen her. She looked so scared. I've never seen her scared like that. Never," her look was still ingrained on his mind.

"Grover said he gave you the ring yesterday," Danny mentioned, "You got any proposal plans? Might take her mind off the heavy stuff."

"No," Steve's head shook, "I don't even know if I want…"

"What?" Danny interrupted, "You don't know if you want to marry her? Are you kidding me?" the man's arms flung outward, "You dragged me to a jewelry store, you bought that ring at the antique shop on Valentine's Day of all days. That my friend is you being serious about marriage," he pointed out. "Look, I know nothing has really gone as you planned, but…"

"Nothing's gone as planned, Danny?" it was Steve's turn to interrupt his partner, the scoff clear in his tone, "That's about the understatement of the year," Steve shook his head as he began to pace the small office. "Marriage and family make you vulnerable, Danny… leave you open for attack."

"Yeah, they do," Danny easily agreed, eying his friend, "But not having family means you've got nothing worth living for." He watched Steve for a moment, noticing how those words hit his friend hard, "Get out of here," Danny said, "It's the day after Christmas, take some more time off. Go home and apologize to Catherine again, get down on your knees and grovel if you have to. That woman is the best thing going in your life so try not to screw it up, okay?"

Steve looked Danny in the eye, floored by the way he'd just spoken almost exactly the same words as his buddy Freddie once had.

He nodded, "Okay."

Danny left his office and Steve grabbed his cell phone. He pushed a speed dial button and waited. The other end picked up but there was only silence, "You're still not talking to me?" he guessed, "That's fine, just wanted to let you know I'll be home in about a half hour. We should talk." Steve paused, hoping she might say something. "I'll see you soon, Cath."

After finally going over Grover's latest account of the search up north, which revealed very few new findings, Steve headed home.

Trooper greeted him at the door, his flip-slops in her mouth. "Thanks, girl" Steve scratched her ear, "Where are Catherine and Evan? Should I be worried? Is she hiding out upstairs ready to strike?" he asked the dog jokingly. Trooper barked and jogged into the dining area, stopping beside the round table there. Steve spotted a piece of paper with his name on it. He opened the note and read, "Meet me outside on the beach." It was clearly Catherine's handwriting.

A gentle breeze blew as he walked across the back lawn. Steve found Catherine and the baby there on the beach, a blanket spread out. She was wearing navy blue shorts and a turquoise swim tankini, both of them more conservative than any swimwear he'd ever seen her wear before. There was a large sun umbrella set up, sunk into the sand and casting a generous swath of shade where Evan laid with his tummy against the blanket, arms and legs wiggling.

"You got my note?" she asked as he sat down and patted the baby's backside.

He nodded, "Yes," realizing the deeper meaning behind her question, "I get it… a simple note this morning would've helped ease your mind."

"I'm glad we understand one another," Catherine glanced at his white cargo pants and blue t-shirt, "Now take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?" Steve was surprised by her request.

She finally smiled, recalling how she'd found him and Evan on the beach earlier, "You looked so cute this morning playing in the water with Evan so…" Catherine reached into the diaper bag beside her. She pulled out her fancy new cell phone and brandished it, "I want to take some pictures of you two in the water," Catherine revealed her plan, "Steve, I'm sorry I freaked out on you this morning," she apologized.

He leaned over and kissed her as the water gently lapped against the sandy shore, "And I'm sorry I caused you to freak out."

Catherine nodded, recalling the way he'd explained about wanting to fight with her and apologizing, all while knowing they still loved one another. "Okay then," she waved her cell phone again, "Lose the shirt and roll up your pants, sailor," Catherine instructed.

"I thought your mom and Ted were coming to visit today?" he asked, peeling off his shirt and tossing it onto the blanket. Steve rolled his pants before scooping Evan up.

"They were going to be here early," she explained, following them into the water, "But my dad's taking them on that tour first and then I'm making dinner for everyone here tonight."

"Good plan," Steve agreed as he dipped Evan's toes in the water and delighted in the same joyful reaction the baby showed, "Navy SEAL in the making."

They spent the afternoon on the beach, taking a ton of pictures which Catherine promptly emailed to her father even though he was still on the island. Evan nursed for a while and fell asleep under the shade umbrella. Steve watched as Catherine finally succumbed to her tiredness as well. He stayed there with the two of them, wishing every day could be as easy. He tried not to think about Lawson, but that was difficult when he spotted Catherine's journal notebook in the diaper bag.

He flipped toward the back of the notebook and began to read, "Warrior Fish and the Princess Wish…"

"No, no, no…" Catherine practically leapt across the blanket to snatch up the notebook from Steve, "Don't read that."

Steve stared at her, wide eyed and a little worried that she'd almost trampled Evan in her attempt to get the notebook away from him, "I thought you were asleep. You gave that to me, said I could read it. All the entries are addressed to me," he pointed out.

"I know, I just…" she sat back and glanced at the page he'd opened to, "I forgot this was in here."

"What is it?"

"A story."

"You wrote a story?" he was curious.

"I told you I had a lot of free time when I was on that ship," she recalled, "During the months before Evan was born the only thing I really needed to do for him was eat. I also exercised a lot, mostly yoga to keep me in shape. And I read a bunch."

He regarded her with concern, "Did you sleep well on the ship?" Steve asked, noticing how she'd woken up so easily upon hearing him reading. And he still heard her up at odd hours during the night even when Evan was sleeping. It was the reason he'd tried to let her sleep in that morning.

"Not really since the middle of my second trimester," she revealed, "I haven't slept well in a long time." Catherine settled the notebook on her lap, "I remember the first night I felt Evan move I wasn't even sure what it was at first. Can't really describe what it felt like, a flutter at first. Then he tossed around some more and," she sighed, "I knew I had to do everything in my power to keep him safe, even if it meant making him happy in our prison. So I wrote that story for him."

"I wish you'd let me read it," Steve prodded.

"It's just a stupid fairytale," Catherine shrugged, "Isn't that what parents do for their kids, teach them about ridiculous happily ever after endings even though they're not true?" She shook her head and handed the notebook back to him, "Go ahead and read it."

"Warrior Fish and the Princess Wish," Steve re-read what seemed to be a title.

He continued reading as Catherine laid down again, her eyes staying focused on him, "Once upon a time there lived a mighty warrior fish named Evan."

Catherine smiled, "I'd already picked out a name for him since I knew he was a boy."

Steve nodded, "Evan loved to travel the ocean blue, ride the waves and explore coral reefs. He was a bit of a rebellious fish, though. He didn't like rules and didn't care to be stuck in one place for very long. He desired to experience more of the sea than just his family's tiny corner of the Pacific Ocean. Evan wanted to see as much as he possibly could."

The first page was turned, "As he grew older, Evan finally decided to leave the safety of that small spot of ocean and set off without telling anyone. He swam and swam. The ocean grew cold at times, then warm again. He met new friends along the way, whales, dolphins and even snails. He discovered old shipwrecks and a chest of gold coins. He also made enemies, sea dragons and sharks that he battled and defeated.

"But no matter who or what he encountered, Evan never tired of the vast ocean blue and never thought about going home. One day, after swimming a long time, Evan heard a soft sound that was new. It wasn't a fish noise or any ocean creature that he'd ever met. In fact, the noise led him straight into the path of a net," Steve grinned, "The net caught his fins and he tried to break free, but every way he turned there was nowhere to flee.

"I had a little Dr. Seuss thing going there for a bit," Catherine realized.

"Evan fought until he could fight no more," Steve continued, "His breathing became labored, he shuddered and spat. But it didn't last long before he felt his whole world right itself. He was in the water again, giddy and free. But that freedom was fleeting as he soon bumped into something hard. It was clear but restrained him and caused him a great deal of concern. When he looked past the clear barrier he saw a world he never could've imagined."

Another page was turned, "Hello, beautiful Koi fish," the soft sound came from above. Evan looked up, swam to the top of the surface and opened his mouth wide. "You're such a lovely fish," the voice spoke again. "You'll stay, won't you? Be my friend?"

"Evan didn't know what he was seeing, not a fish like he'd even seen before. This fish had no fins and no scales, not even gills for breathing. "What are you?" Evan asked.

"The source of the voice was shocked, looking about the room with worry. "Did you… did you just speak?" she wondered.

"Of course I did, I asked what you were. You don't look like a fish to me," Evan told her.

"That's because I'm a princess, you silly fish," the young woman revealed. "I'm a human, not a fish at all," she chuckled. "I haven't laughed in a very long time, Mr. Koi, thank you for that, even if none of this is real."

"I'm real," Evan stated. "I live in the ocean. I'm a mighty warrior fish. I've defeated sea dragons and massive mean sharks."

"Oh, but…" the princess' head shook, "I'm afraid you weren't a warrior fish, Mr. Koi. You were born in the pond my father built in our backyard. It's not an ocean. I created a scene in the pond like that of the sea, paintings of whales, dolphins and snails. You've never been in battle, at least none other than in your imagination," the girl explained, "But I'd love to hear your make-believe stories, Mr. Koi. I've been trapped here in my home for as long as I can remember, locked away from the world. I'm very sick and doubt I'll ever see the real ocean, but I dream of it all day long," she revealed. "I brought you to my room in a bowl so I could have part of that pond-ocean with me always."

"The fish was confused. His whole life seemed a joke. "But I don't understand, princess."

"I don't understand much of this cruel world either," she whispered. "Every night I close my eyes and make a wish… it usually goes something like this…"

"I wish, I wish, I wish to be a fish, able to swim and swish. Oh, the things I would see under the deep and dark sea. Calm and free with ample glee, just able to relax, rest and be me. For a place where I could so easily flee from those who refuse to hear my plea, and all with whom I strongly do not agree. I would settle there, make that place mine, safety in numbers; my fish family divine. The swift and strong, vast ocean dome would be big enough to hide, but free to roam, yet always close enough to home."

"A hopeful-to-the-bitter-end fish, able to swim and swish, forever free to wish… I wish, I wish."

"Evan the warrior fish was sad to hear her wish, ashamed that he'd been thinking only of himself and his desire to be free. "Maybe that pond is not a true ocean as you have said, but it was my home, a lovely home you made for me. I realize that now. And I would like to stay with you, if I could help make your wish come true even if only in a very small way. I'd like to make your home as lovely as you did mine."

"Thank you, Mr. Koi. You're very kind," the Princess smiled."

Steve turned another page, "Evan stayed with the Princess for years, through her sickness and her childhood, until she grew well and strong and old enough to finally venture out on her own. On her last day home she walked the warrior fish out to the backyard and sat his fishbowl on the ground beside the beautiful pond. "Thank you, Mr. Koi," she said again, "For staying when I needed you. Would you like to return home now or see the real ocean with me?"

"I'd like to go home," was his choice. She smiled and nodded before she released him.

"Warrior fish stayed close to the pond's surface for a while and watched her, waiting patiently until she'd gone. Then he sunk below, reuniting with his family after such a long time. "Oh, how I've missed you," warrior fish excitedly greeted them, his fins flowing freely in the large open pond. "And what a wonderful adventure I have to tell you all about, not of battles or exploration, but of friendship and love, and about wishes coming true."

When he was done reading, Steve took a moment to think about her story, "You really wrote this?" he asked, "I thought you didn't believe in fairy tales."

"No, I said I don't believe in happily ever after," Catherine corrected, "The story is about misconceptions, sadness, friendship, sacrifices, and even a great deal of happiness. Real life is what I believe in," she asserted, though it had been hard to accept lately, "Fighting through the bad stuff to get to the good stuff."

"Living in the moment, not happily ever after," Steve agreed, "The good, the bad, everything in between… I told Doris something similar at your funeral," he remembered.

Catherine bit her lip, "Maybe the story doesn't mean anything," she whispered, "Like I told you earlier, I had a lot of time on my hands. There wasn't much to do other than secretly craft a chopstick weapon, carve coded messages on a medallion with a broken piece of mirror, and let out my dresses to accommodate the ever expanding frontier of my belly."

He could tell she was trying to gloss over everything again, "I wish I could've seen that belly," Steve said.

"It wasn't very sexy," she replied, "Stretch marks."

"I bet it was gorgeous," he smiled, though it made him sad again to think about all he'd missed. The afternoon sun beat down, tempered by the soft breeze that was blowing in a few rain clouds overhead, "I know a lot of guys in the service never get to see their babies born or…" Steve's right hand reached out to rest against her flat belly.

"But this was different," she knew, "This was forced on us, not our choice."

Steve nodded, curling up closer and resting his head against her shoulder as the most obvious meaning of her story hit him, "I'm sorry you felt so alone."

She smiled, closing her eyes, "I'm not now."

000

"Fong finally got those SDPD pictures enhanced for us," Chin announced, joining the others around the command station on Monday morning.

"Most of Charlie's team was gone for the Christmas weekend," Kono explained the reason for the delay as she swiped the images onto the larger screens, "Almost all of the neighborhood watch pictures were taken at night so it's hard to get any kind of detail, but Charlie managed to find one from the early morning."

"Driver's got a full beard and mustache," Chin took over, "Most likely a disguise. And we only have a side shot, which makes facial recognition harder. But it's being run through Homeland Security and Interpol right now," he said, "If we don't get a hit from either of those I'll have to dig deeper."

Steve nodded, "When I spoke to agent Vichy this morning he said they'd located a suspiciously guarded compound in central Brazil that they've been monitoring for the past three days. Couple dozen guards roaming the facility, but seems to be a working plantation. Soybean crops are still being planted and the rain there at this time of the year has made their surveillance difficult. They haven't noticed any out of the ordinary activity yet, but Vichy's team is ready to strike if need be."

"Slow progress," Danny noted.

"Is better than none," Kono countered with more faith.

Danny shrugged as the side door opened and Catherine entered HQ.

"Hey," Steve greeted, taking Evan's car seat from her as he noticed how weighed down with stuff she was. Seeing that the baby was asleep, Steve positioned the car seat on the floor and helped Catherine remove the diaper bag over her left shoulder. "What's going on?" he wondered why she was there, "Something wrong?"

Her head shook, "No, I have something I wanted to go over with you guys," Catherine drew a smaller bag off her right shoulder and pulled her laptop out of it. "My dad and Ted think mom's been hovering over me too much so they took her to Hawaii to hike around Kilauea. The three of them hanging out together is getting a little weird," she said while carefully hooking her laptop into the Five-0 main computer.

Steve grinned, glad that her parents were staying in the area until after the New Year, "What've you got?"

"Maybe nothing significant," she shrugged, pulling up a few articles on her screen and connecting them to the larger view screens in the room, "But I've been doing some digging the last few weeks and found something pretty interesting. A young woman named Hannah Cooper disappeared as a teenager in 1973. She was 17 and in Vietnam with her parents Patrick and Harriet Cooper who were protesting the war," Catherine displayed a picture of the blonde-haired couple. "They were big time free-love hippies from Berkley, California."

"How'd they manage plane tickets to Vietnam?" Danny wondered.

"They were rich hippies," Catherine noted, "Both of them came from money. Neither one worked very much, traveled instead. Preached their hippie love and anti-war campaigns all across the U.S. in the early seventies and dragged their daughter wherever they went. Eventually they set out world-wide, but they met some folks in Vietnam that were not happy with what the Coopers' were preaching. Patrick and Harriet were found dead in the Ho Chi Minh city area, still called Saigon back then. They'd both been shot to death."

"But not their daughter?" Steve asked.

Her head shook, "No, Hannah wasn't found for another two years."

"Dead?" Kono asked.

"Alive," Catherine responded.

"Two years?" Steve was almost grateful that Catherine had only been gone for one, "Where was she all that time?"

"Hannah Cooper claimed she was taken by Chinese slave traders who had a faction in Vietnam," she explained, "Apparently they took girls from all over the world, all races, and used them as comfort women for the troops," Catherine took a breath, "There were several articles about Hannah's ordeal and eventual rescue, a very in-depth one in the New York Times. And I bet you can't guess who rescued her?"

"Chinese slave trade in the seventies," Chin thought it over, "This is connected to Wo Fat's father Wo Min somehow?"

Catherine nodded, "Yes, but it was a young Navy officer named Nickolas Lawson who found Hannah living in a shack in Saigon. He got her to an American consulate in Germany where she was allowed to stay for nearly a year. She began to write to Lawson and eventually fell in love with him. Not long after the war ended he took her back to the U.S., they were married and their daughter Melanie was born about a year later."

"Hannah Lawson," Steve realized.

"Hero worship," Danny muttered, glancing around the room, "Lawson saved her, she fell for him."

No one disagreed with his assessment.

"I asked Max to check the archives to see if the medical examiner who dealt with the bodies of Matthew and Hannah Lawson after their deaths in 1993 found anything out of the ordinary on their bodies," Catherine went on, pulling up a photograph, "I thought maybe she'd have a scar of some sort…"

"Dove mark?" Steve guessed her train of thought.

Catherine pointed to the picture of the woman's hip and nodded, "Hannah Cooper was part of Wo Min's slave trade."

"So did Nick Lawson know Wo Min?" Chin asked.

"It seems unlikely that Hannah would've been left alone anywhere for Lawson to just find her and rescue her," Kono voiced her thoughts.

"When I asked Doris if she recognized Hannah Cooper she couldn't say for sure," Catherine looked to Steve, both of them hoping his mother wasn't lying again, "She did confirm that Wo Min conducted business in Vietnam at that time."

"You're right," Steve sighed, "I don't know if any of this helps us, but it's a strange coincidence," even as he spoke the last word he could see Chin frown.

She closed her laptop, "Lawson is a few years older than my father. He was sent to Vietnam for three years, but my dad just missed being eligible for that war by about a year. All this time I figured Lawson's breakdown started when he lost his son, Matthew. But maybe it started a long time before that."

"You think rescuing Hannah was a way for Lawson to make amends for the atrocities he witnessed during the Vietnam War?" Steve questioned.

Catherine thought about what her mom had said about her dad having so much trouble dealing with his tours of duty, "No, I think maybe Vietnam broke him. What if rescuing Hannah and taking her as his wife wasn't so much about heroism as it was about trying to be in control of something."

A chime on the surface table went off and Chin checked it, "Security just set off an alarm downstairs," he pulled up the lobby camera.

On the middle screen the Palace lobby winked into view.

Standing in the center of the room was Nick Lawson, surrounded by five guards with weapons aimed at him.

"What the… is he a complete idiot?" Danny asked.

Steve turned to Catherine, noticing how her attention had gone to the baby right away, "Stay here," he gently instructed. Steve led the way as Danny rushed down the main stairway behind him. They kept their guns sheathed on approach to Lawson, seeing the guards had things under control. "You already cuffed him?" Steve asked the guard closest to him.

Stew's head shook, "He walked in here like that, hands cuffed behind his back. Set off the metal detector before I even recognized him," the man explained.

That fact alone was odd, but seeing how calm Lawson looked made Steve practically shiver with worry. He was still trying to figure out his next move when he felt something tug at his side. Steve barely had a chance to register what had happened when he watched her brush past him. "No," his heart quickened, "Catherine…"

Not heeding his warning, Catherine walked right into the circle of guards. She aimed Steve's gun at Lawson and kicked him in the back of the legs, causing him to fall onto his knees. She circled around front and steadied the gun, pressing it against his forehead.

"Are you going to shoot me?" Lawson taunted her.

"Do you have a reason why I shouldn't?" Catherine asked.

Lawson looked up at her with a heartless grin, "I don't."

---

To be continued…