A/N Sorry this took so long. It would have been up a couple of days ago, when the first part of this chapter was finished. But I kept wavering as to whether to add the second half. As you can see, I kept it in. Hey, longer update that way. :D
The Hawaiian sun is unusually hot today. It feels like hell. Even I think so. But I can't leave this spot, even if I wanted to. And I do want to. So very much.
I survey the area without turning my head. I can't help but see how similar it is to another funeral, another fallen brother. Another brother I killed. But there are too many cops and only one Service Member. I don't want to be here. I shouldn't be here. I have no right to be here. But maybe I deserve to be here.
I deserve to have all of these people, all of these people who loved him, be able to see me. I deserve to see the hate and judgement in their eyes. I killed him, after all. Their friend, their father, their leader, their colleague. Ohana. It was my Op. My fucking mother. I should have refused the mission, taken a court martial. Anything to avoid this.
The priest is done and the mourners make their way to the casket that's waiting to be lowered into the ground. Hawaii will now be his home forever. Because of me. They all glare at me as they pass by me, but I barely notice them. My focus now is on my target. I walk over to her and for a moment I'm taken back a few years.
I knelt down in front of a little girl with long blond hair, eyes wet with tears only because her mommy was sad, not because she actually knew what was going on. I'd only seen her twice before. She probably didn't even remember me. I remembered her, though. I remembered holding her as a baby, taking her swimming for the first time. Things she should have done with her father. The father that she never met. I remember that I envied her because she would never have to miss her father. She couldn't lose what she never had.
The girl I kneel before now has brown hair and is no little girl – a teenager now. I loved her the moment I met her. Meeting her made me want to be someone she could be proud of, that her father could be proud of. I wanted to protect her, make sure she had everything I never had. Well, we know how that turned out. I look up into her big brown eyes and I want to shut mine against what I see there, but I don't. Anger. Sadness. Hate. Disappointment.
"Gracie..." I try to put a comforting hand on her knee, but she knocks it away.
"How could you let this happen, Steve?" I'm no longer the fake uncle. Not that I really blame her.
"I'm sorry, Grace. I—"
"You were supposed to have his back, Steve!"
"I think you should leave now, Commander. You've done enough damage, don't you think?" I don't turn toward the British accent. I can't look away from Grace.
"No. Gracie. Please. I love you both very much."
"Danno trusted you, Steve! He trusted you and you failed him."
"I know. I'm sorry Grace. I'm so, so sorry."
I remember there's something I'm supposed to do. Something she needed to know.
"Danno will always love you, Gracie."
"But he's dead. He's gone because of you, Steve!"
"You killed him, Steve!"
"I hate you, McGarrett!"
"McGarrett!"
I'm suddenly plunged into darkness and transported from the cemetery. Well, that can't be right.
"Hey. You with us, man?"
"Huh?" I turn to the voice, realize I'm in bed, see a silhouette in the dark. I sit up to try and get a better look. "Danny?"
"No Steve, it's Jake." I slump back down onto the thin pillow. "You know where you are?"
A dream. Fuck. I nod, flopping an arm over my eyes to try and pretend this isn't happening. "Barracks at Pearl."
"'Kay. You good?"
"Yeah. I'm good. Sorry."
"Hey, no worries. You do it for us."
Yeah. But I'm the Team Leader. It's my job. My guys aren't supposed to see me like this.
I hear the rustle of sheets that tell me Costas is back in his bunk and I uncover my eyes, staring in the direction of the ceiling until my vision adjusts and it shows itself in the dark. This isn't my first nightmare and it won't be my last. Not even close. As far as I know, though, it's the first time I've ever been caught. And to be caught in this one... it's a nightmare version of my own personal hell.
I wonder what I said that woke Costas. And how fucked up is it that I pray for nightmares that are nothing more than replays of missions gone wrong? Machine gun fire pinning us down, body parts, IEDs. Shit storms of missions past. All true.
This nightmare, one I've had so many times even if the details change, cannot come true. And the only way to make sure that doesn't happen is to make sure this Op goes off without a hitch. If that means I have to check over the plans a hundred times, I will.
May as well start now.
505050
The sky outside the small window in the common room is beginning to lighten when I hear footsteps behind me. I look up from the maps and satellite imagery that I've been staring at for at least an hour or two to find Costas emerging from our room. He's half dressed for the day already. I watch him watching me for a moment, raise an eyebrow. I'm not really liking the look he's got on his face. I think whatever is on his mind is really gonna fuck up my day. He nods – to himself or me, I'm not sure – and comes to stand next to me. At attention.
"Morning, Costas."
"Sir." My eyebrow goes a bit higher. I can't stop it. "Permission to speak freely, Sir."
"When have you ever needed permission? Especially when I'm sitting here in my skivvies." He doesn't say anything. Yep. This is definitely going to fuck up my day. I almost deny him on those grounds alone, but something is clearly on his mind and I need his mind clearly on today's Op. There can be no mistakes. It may not be the most important mission the Navy has ever given us, by far, but it's the most important to me. I sigh and wave a hand in his direction.
"Granted." This is something I need to get comfortable for. I can tell by how tense Costas is. I lean back and fold my hands in my lap. Costas stands at ease and takes a deep breath.
"Is your head in the game?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Okay, so I know I said he could speak freely. I guess he's really taking that to heart. "You've been off since you came back to active duty. I couldn't figure out why. You never really told me what all happened, what you've been doing while you were here, aside from your dad dying and you starting Five-0. I mean, I know all about your partner and his daughter but that's it. I thought maybe something bad went down. But I was wrong. It wasn't bad at all." Costas doesn't know what he's talking about. "You've got family here now, Steve. You never had that before. The Navy was your family. Now that you've got a real one, why did you ever leave it? You shouldn't have come back."
I don't say anything for a minute, feel my eyes narrow. "You don't know what you're talking about." But I know maybe he does.
I spent half my life without a home; Freddie the closest thing to family I had – and look how that turned out. And I've come to realize that maybe I didn't have much of a family before, like maybe the five years I spent with Five-0 was the only time in my entire life I ever knew what home and family was. I refuse to think about that anymore. Nothing good's gonna come from it.
"You finished?" I ask him.
He sighs and I refuse to think about how much that reminds me of Danny when he's realized he's pushed too much and he needs to back off. He waves a hand in the direction of the table, changes the subject.
"Seriously, what's with all the prep? This job is so easy, a group of moderately trained actual seals could do it. At most, it's nothing Five-0 hasn't handled on their own. Even after you left."
I ignore the callback to the conversation we just dropped. "What's with all the prep is that this needs to go absolutely perfect. We were ordered to do this job, even if it's not going to be that exciting for you, and now we've got fucking civilians involved. Top it all off, like I said before, I don't trust our intel."
I can feel his eyes on me as I turn back to leaf through the documents. Then there is the scrape of the chair on the other side of the table.
"Let me help."