AN:

Thank you for the reviews. This one is a little more somber you guys. I hope you like it. The title is from We Cry by The Script and this chapter is like a sort of epilogue I made up for Episode 2.10 Ki'lua.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer:

Please stop making me remind myself that this wonderful show is not mind. It hurts *weeps*.

Flood the Ocean

Steve lay in the hospital bed dozing. The plane had been met by an ambulance upon landing and despite his protests he'd been forced to go to the hospital. Of course, presently he was too fatigued and injured to overpower anyone. So here he was in a sterile hospital bed wearing a gown with his ass hanging out and he couldn't bring himself to care.

He gnashed his teeth, irritating the raw wounds in his mouth, when the image of Wo Fat shooting Jenna flashed through his mind. Even though she had betrayed him, he couldn't hate her. Sure she had let her emotions get the better of her and had been sadly naive in thinking that Wo Fat would honor his end of the bargain. He would like to think that he wouldn't be so gullible were it Max but he knew from experience that such a thought was unrealistic. Sometimes in certain situations you just…react. If-.

Bolts of pain struck his system. He gave a strangled groan. The kick of morphine he'd been given in the plane was wearing off. He clenched his eyes shut as his injuries began throbbing simultaneously; becoming an intense conflagration that nearly robbed him of his wits. Each throbbing bruise, rib, and stitch reminded him of the sick sonofabitch that had captured and tortured him. He would get revenge.

He exhaled through his nose, riding out the agony. His mind drifted to the one thing, that failsafe he'd employed to endure his torture. Max. He thought of thick jet black hair, random thoughts blurted out at the strangest of moments, of eyes that turned to crescent moons when he really smiled, of skilled fingers flying over piano keys, and strawberry lips.

"I called Max," Danny stated upon entrance, followed by the rest of the team.

Steve opened his eyes, which took more effort than normal. "Yeah?"

"He's working. H-P-D called in for consultation on an autopsy."

Disappointment settled in his stomach. He wanted Max near to feel his calming presence and see if they were okay. He'd gone gallivanting halfway across the world without telling him, which could not have a good bearing on their relationship.

The doctor, a painfully thin man, entered the room. "Well, look who is awake and in pain doubt. I'm sure the morphine has worn off by now."

Steve managed to roll his eyes when Danny glowered at him. "It has doc but he's too macho to complain. If you give him anything make sure it knocks him out till Tuesday." Danny's tone held no bite to them merely worry.

"I'm going to give you Fentanyl for the pain. Make sure to follow the directions on the bottle. And I'd like to keep you for 24 hours just for observation."

No way in hell he was staying in a hospital overnight. "I think I'll be more comfortable at home," he stated and began sitting upright.

"Come on boss…" Kono would have finished her sentence had she not realized the futility of her attempts at persuasion. She might as well be talking to a tree. So, deciding to save her breath she shut her mouth.

"Then someone should stay with you," the doctor stated, still looking at his chart.

"That would be me," Danny volunteered, a little too readily for Steve's taste.

Steve groaned in protest. "I'd be better off here."

The doctor's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Is that consent Mister McGarrett?"

Steve cursed himself for walking into such an obvious trap. Now, he would have to choose the lesser of two evils. Damn. "Where are my clothes?"

"I'll go get a list of warning signs that your condition may be worsening."

Steve shifted his attention to his team, aquamarine depths full of emotions that he could not express. "You guys, there are no words to express how grateful I am."

Chino flashed him a fond smile. "Thank you is enough."

"Which you've already said like ten times brah," Kono replied with a warm grin.

Steve gazed at his team. These people had traveled halfway around the world, risking it all for him. Neither of them had military training yet they'd picked up assault rifles, joined ranks with his fellow Navy SEALs, and flew to the jungles of North Korea on an unsanctioned mission. They'd risked their lives and jobs just to rescue him. On the plane, it had hit home how they were truly his ohana.

He sat in the passenger side of Danny's car, the seat in a reclining position. His eyes were half-lidded, the warm air licking his face.

"Max is really worried about you."

Steve cast Danny a side-glance. "Mm."

"He just... Don't be a knucklehead Steven. Okay? He's just working because maybe that'll help him not-."

"Danny."

"No let me finish. When I told him you were betrayed by Jenna and captured by Wo Fat I swear he stared at me for a whole minute before telling me to bring you back. Then, he opened a dead guy's skull." He took a deep curve, glancing over at a seemingly docile Steve. "Maybe that's him saying I love him and can't live without him?"

Steve cast a cheeky glance to the blond. "You should have your own show Danny Williams: Love Doctor."

Danny grew silent before saying, "I should have left your ass in North Korea."

He would have smiled if it did not hurt his face so damned much. Max was different; he was a thinker not a fighter. An outlandish image of Max awkwardly wielding an assault rifle surfaced in his mind. His little dork would probably shoot his big toe off before managing to bring anyone down.

An image of Jenna's lifeless eyes gazing up at him flooded his mind. That had been the second loudest gunshot he'd heard in his lifetime. Wo Fat would pay.

Danny, as if reading his thoughts, broached the topic. "I'm sorry Jenna died, honestly, but she betrayed you Steve."

"That doesn't mean she deserved to die."

"I'm not saying it does. If she needed help she should have come to us, instead of convincing you to go alone to North Korea so she could trade you to Wo Fat." He tightened the muscles in his jaw, fighting back an angry tirade.

"I know that, but she did give me the pin to help me escape." He settled a little deeper into the chair.

"Yeah, after she betrayed you to the guy that no doubt tortured you."

"Danny can we not talk about this right now?" He almost pleaded. His head pulsated painfully and it felt like fire burned within the marrow of his ribs. He didn't feel like figuring this whole fiasco with Jenna out. Though, he did hope that Gutcher could retrieve her body and return it to the United States.

Dusk found Steve lying in bed floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The chatter of the television downstairs drifted to his ears. Usually it would have annoyed him immensely but now it served as a reminder that he was not alone. Like he had been in that room with Wo Fat.

Before he gradually surrendered to sleep he vowed revenge on the man that had ruined and taken so many lives.

It seemed as though he had only been asleep for a few minutes when a voice calling his name tugged him from his misty dreams.

"Steve."

He opened his eyes, vision swimming—the bright light from his bedside lamp did not aid him. When he managed to focus, a much desired face dominated his vision. "Max." He reached up, even though the movement hurt like a motherfucker and pulled him down. Thankfully Max had the presence of mind to brace his weight on his hands.

"Hey," he whispered a tiny smile on his lips.

Max replied in kind, dark eyes sweeping over his features.

He pressed their foreheads together, hands in his partner's raven colored hair. He gazed into coffee brown depths, feeling his heart heave a content sigh. For one excruciating instance in that dark room it crossed his mind that he might not make it out alive. The first face that had appeared in his brain was Max's.

He closed his eyes just listening to the rhythm of Max's breathing. He returned the tender kiss, deepening it despite the snatch of pain it caused. When he drew away he locked his gaze with limpid brown eyes, noticing the uncharacteristic emotion clouding his features. "Babe," he started, resting a hand on his cheek.

Max clutched Steve's hand before drawing away. "How do you feel?"

"I've been better," he quipped, wincing in his endeavor to sit upright. Shit.

Max shook his head at him. "Have you eaten?"

"Few slices of pizza delivery." His attention wavered back and forth, pain biting into him.

"What about a bath?"

"Not yet."

"Obviously." He wrinkled his nose and stood, disappearing into the bathroom.

Steve would have chuckled if it didn't make his ribs protest. Leave it to Max to think about hygiene during a tender reunion. Minutes later he heard the water in the tub. Max was drawing his bath? Sweet. He sighed, trying to dissect the doctor's mood thus far then closed his eyes, trying to fight off the throbbing agony skewing his thougts.

Moments later he sat naked in steaming water relaxing into the heavenly liquid. He groaned, reveling in the heat soothing his aching muscles.

"Too hot?"

"Perfect." He grunted and leaned back. Half-lidded blue eyes fell to Max when he knelt next to the tube and began lathering a washcloth. "You're giving me a bath?" Had anyone else offered to give him a bath he would have at least tried to kick their ass, but when Max did it he only felt…horny.

Max regarded him blandly. "Are you declining?" He raised a slender eyebrow.

"Not at all." He shot him a horndog grin. "But I think it would be easier if you joined me."

Max poked his side.

Steve flinched, groaning in pain. "Shit Max. Alright I got it."

Max helped him bathe in silence, gliding the towel over his skin in massaging circles—careful of his injuries. He could not help but grin when Max blushed and handed him the towel so he could clean his genital area. It amused him how despite months of hot sex and blowjobs the doctor was still shy about touching him there.

After bathing he stood on his sore feet, insisting on drying off. "Max?"

Max, whose eyes had been directed to his crotch, looked up at him.

"Are we okay?"

Max closed his eyes briefly as if holding back some force and when he opened them Steve saw something he had never witnessed. Doe brown eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

"I'm just happy you're home," he spoke softly, resting his palm over his heart.

He winced when sharp pain stabbed him. "So am I."

He climbed into bed, using the water Max brought him to take his medication.

When he wakened the next morning he was alone in bed, the covers undisturbed from the night before. His breath hitched when he sat up too sudden. But the physical pain wasn't his main concern. It was the fact that he'd slept alone. He rose from the bed and started towards the kitchen, taking the stairs one painful step at a time.

As he suspected, he found Max in the kitchen, a glass of orange juice and an omelet on a tray. "Morning."

Max whirled around in surprise. "Good morning."

Steve felt Max's guarded mood and that worried him, because Max had not been that way around him for months. "This for me?"

"Yes." He poured coffee grains into the filter, inhaling the earthy scent, and closed it.

Steve studied Max noticing the way he fidgeted with his coffee mug. "Max…"

He turned to regard his lover. "You should not be on your feet."

He sighed and sat in the chair, sides screaming with pain. He watched Max with perceptive eyes, noting the defensive shield cocooning his demeanor. The sensation of a distance fissuring between them reached him and he would not stand for it. "You didn't come to bed last night." He sipped on the orange juice, noticing that—as usual—it was fresh squeezed.

Max kept his back turned. "I was concerned I may worsen your injuries while we slept." He stopped fidgeting with the handle of his coffee mug when the coffeemaker finished percolating and poured the steaming liquid into his cup.

"Really? You hardly move two inches when you sleep Max."

Max failed to respond sitting opposite of him with a bowl of Kashi granola cereal in front of him.

The icicles crowning Max's demeanor was actually painful. "Come on Max."

Max glanced up at him. "What do you want from me?"

Steve eyed his little nerd for a moment, brow furrowed. "I don't know…treat me like you don't wish I was back in North Korea." Yes he was aware that it was mean to say, but sometimes, Max needed to be provoked.

Max clenched the spoon in his hand, thin lips drawing into a hard line. "I thought I was going to lose you. I got over Jason, but I do not believe I could survive your death."

Steve remembered Jason, the first man Max loved. He'd been in the army. Max and he were supposed to have their first date upon his return but a week before he was killed in action. He hadn't realized he had opened such a wound. "Babe, I didn't' mean to remind you of that."

Max cast his gaze downward as if afraid to meet his eyes.

Steve clenched Max's hand. He'd been waiting for months to tell Max how he really felt and in that hellhole he realized that such things should never be left unsaid. "Max," he cleared his throat, "I love you."

Max gazed up at him with wide eyes as if he thought Steve could never love him then the light in his chocolate depths dimmed. "After a near death experience it is common to-."

He shook his head, aquamarine eyes soft. "Max you know I would never say it if I didn't mean it." He blinked in an effort to keep the pulsating throb in his ribs and everywhere else at bay.

"You can't say that and assume that it makes everything okay, because it does not. We're not okay, Steve."

Steve's brow knitted pinching his lips in an effort to reign in his emotions. His heart clenched as apprehension speared him. "Max babe, don't do this right now."

Max withdrew his hands, shaking his head, and dug his fingers into his thighs. "I understand that you are a protector and placing others ahead of yourself is in your nature. But when you leave and knowingly place yourself in danger it does not protect us. It hurts. Do you not think that we want to protect you sometimes, because we know you're not invincible?"

He rose, cereal forgotten, and poured himself another cup of coffee despite the first cup still being mostly full. "The team endangered their lives and jobs to rescue you Steve."

He inhaled deeply. "Don't you think I know that?" Was Max going to break up with him? He couldn't lose Max. Not now. Not ever.

Clenching his fists with resolve, he stood—ignoring the sensation that he was striding over hot coals—and crossed the kitchen. He stopped when he stood merely a few inches away, feeling as if the small distance had turned into miles. "Max, look at me."

Max reluctantly turned to him, brown eyes wavering.

He searched Max's chocolate eyes, deciphering the tumult of emotions swirling through them. "What will make us okay?" He swallowed and held his breath when Max averted his gaze, praying that the worst did not happen.

Max returned his gaze, blinking back tears. "I don't know." His answer came out as a whisper strangled with uncertainty.

Steve, despite the lacerating protest of his ribs, drew Max into an embrace. He closed his eyes, feeling talons claw into his heart. Where did they go from here?

And there you have it. I know it doesn't have that much of a happy ending but, eh you know. If you like this chapter drop me a line and Review.

Next Chapter:

The Spaces between My Fingers.

Ciao ^-*