A/N: I would just like to say thank you to all of you who have started reading this fanfic. It is my first attempt (ever!) and I am new to the community as a whole. I appreciate the overwhelmingly positive feedback from everyone. I also wish to make a quick apology for the delay in getting this chapter up. I have been slammed at work for the past 10 days and I had to put this - my new creative outlet - on a brief pause. My intent is to try and get a new chapter up every couple of days.

Thank you again, from the bottom of my crazy little heart for your support. I am humbled beyond belief. :)

NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE

Sam flipped over onto her back for the umpteenth time. The clock on her phone read 4:42 am. Sleep had, as expected, completely eluded her again. Despite Mae keeping Sam busy, running her ragged her second day on the island, Sam still hadn't been able to sleep. At least that meant no nightmares. Can't have a nightmare when you're wide awake.

Well, in theory.

Giving up, Sam rolled out of bed and made her way downstairs. She was surprised to turn the corner into the kitchen to find Mae standing at the island, her right hand holding a large mug of coffee.

"I heard your gears grinding all night. Figured you could use this," she said with a smile as she handed the steaming coffee off to her niece.

Sam gratefully inhaled the unmistakable scent. "Mmmhmm, you're a savior Mae."

Mae chuckled as she took a sip of her own drink. "Did you solve the case?" Sam just looked at Mae. "That's why you haven't slept the past two nights, right? You're trying to solve John's…you figure it out?"

Sam saw the sadness and grief in Mae's eyes. She and John had been very close, particularly in recent years. They had been more than just neighbors. Mae and John were bonded by grief and loss and it had grown into a very precious, genuine friendship. Sam had always secretly hoped they would call one day and tell her they had just gone ahead and gotten married. Another wave of grief washed over her. She knew this was to be expected. She'd felt it before – when her parents were killed, when Doris MacGarrett died, when Ben…

"Earth to Sam," Mae called out.

"Sorry, Mae. Didn't mean to ignore you. I was just…"

"I know, baby, I know. It's going to be a rough day."

Sam clenched Mae's hand. "For both of us." Sam drew Mae into a hug. "Just like always, it's you and me against the world, eh, Mae?" Sam felt Mae nod against her shoulder. After several moments, they separated, exchanged a look and picked up their mugs. Mae looked down into hers and walked into the dining room.

When Mae stepped back into the kitchen, Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"What? MacGarrett – it's Irish. Hence, Irish whiskey. Shut up."

Sam barked out a laugh at Mae's feistiness but didn't hesitate to pop open the bottle and pour a generous amount of the brown liquid into both mugs. "To John."

"To John," Mae answered, looking heavenward. To break the tension, Mae asked, "Is your uniform ironed?"

Sam chuckled. "Yes, ma'am, I made sure it was done last night." Mae nodded. "Should we eat some breakfast so we don't show up completely schnockered?" Sam got up to grab some food for the two of them. Mae didn't look like she was in the mood, nor the state of mind.

After cooking, eating and cleaning breakfast, the women moved upstairs to get ready for one of the hardest days of their lives.

Sam stared in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a French twist, ready to tuck under her cover. Her uniform was crisp and ironed. The mourning band placed securely over her badge. Sam took one last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order, grabbed her cover and headed downstairs.

"Ready?" Mae asked.

"As I'll ever be," she replied.

As Mae backed out of the driveway, Sam leaned her head back against the headrest, avoiding looking at the MacGarrett house. Memories were already flooding her brain. Most vivid, at the moment, were the most recent – sitting on the beach behind the house, trading stories with John about the cases she worked on from her time with vice and homicide to more recent stories about SWAT takedowns, the night John took the gun out of her hands…

Too many memories. Too much pain. It had to end.

Sam glanced in her side mirror, watching for a tail. While nothing had seemed out of the ordinary since the park at the beach two days earlier, Sam still felt unsettled. She still felt as if she was being watched.

Lost in thought, Sam hadn't noticed the car had stopped until she felt Mae's hand on her arm.

"Sweetie, we're here."

Sam drew in a deep breath and nodded. As the two got out of the car, Sam heard a voice calling out to Mae. She noticed a tall, older man in an HPD uniform making his way over. As he got closer, Sam realized it was Duke Lukela. She hadn't seen him in years, but he still had the same soft smile he always did. Duke enveloped Mae in a quick hug and gave Sam a quick nod of his head. He was gone as quickly as he had appeared. Mae and Sam moved together towards the church, but Sam was distracted by someone she thought she recognized.

"What is it?" Mae inquired.

"Not sure. I thought I saw someone I knew but I guess not," Sam answered.

"Well, you did grow up here. I wouldn't be surprised if you did recognize some people here. A couple of the guys you went to school with become cops." Sam just grunted in response.

"Let's get inside. I'm sure they'll be starting soon. It's a few minutes to ten."

As Sam and Mae went inside, Sam felt the air being sucked out of her lungs. She couldn't catch her breath, her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, nausea started to bubble up in her throat. Mae felt Sam's hand clench hers and she could feel the tremors beginning to rack her body. "Go," was all Mae said. She knew Sam was about to have a sudden panic attack and needed to get out of the church. "Just go. Do what you need to do." Sam, wide eyed, simply nodded and turned to run out the doors she had just walked through.

Sam made a beeline for the side of the church, hoping to get out of view of the stragglers coming in from the parking lot. Somewhere along the way, Sam dropped her cover on the ground.

Pressing her forehead against the stucco wall, the tears Sam had been fighting for the past few hours were threatening to pour from her eyes. She pressed her hands against the wall in hopes of balancing herself. The last thing she wanted to do in that moment was pass out, face first on the pavement.

Sam was so focused on what was going on in her body that she failed to notice the man walking up behind her. It wasn't until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder that she realized she was not alone.

"Samantha?"

Sam spun around, grabbing the wrist connected to the hand. She quickly released her grip when she found herself face to face with an old friend.

"Chin?"

Sam recognized Chin Ho Kelly immediately. She remembered him attending football games with John, watching Steve play, and the night he arrested her after John sent Steve to the mainland, and how he would stop in to check on John after he retired. Sam had always liked the quiet, Zen-like Chin.

Chin looked at Sam with concern in his eyes. He could tell she was struggling physically. "Samantha? Are you alright?"

With tears shining in her eyes, Sam simply shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't form words. Chin simply looked at her with understanding and concern.

"Tough day, huh? Let's sit." With an arm carefully encircling her waist, Chin led Sam over into a small courtyard with several stone benches, gently guiding her to one on the far side. He took her hand as he sat next to her. He could tell she was on the verge of a panic attack, so he simply rubbed her back with his left hand, allowing Sam a moment to get her breathing under control.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Chin shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I know how much John meant to you. And can I tell you something?" Sam nodded. Chin placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to look in his eyes. "You meant the world to him, too. I know he loved you as much as he loved Mary and Steve." At that, the tears finally fell. Sam lost track of time as she sat there, finally allowing herself to feel the grief she had been trying to lock down for the past several days. Chin just sat next to Sam and held her. He felt both relief and peace as he sat in the floral courtyard, holding the young woman John MacGarrett had always adored. Knowing he couldn't go inside without the stares and judgement of his former colleagues, Chin felt as though this was what he was meant to do today, comfort and protect Samantha Devereaux.

After a while, Sam lifted her head and looked up at Chin with puffy, bloodshot eyes.

"Chin, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I just did that to you."

"Did what, Sam? Grieve?"

"I kept you from being inside the service. Not to mention that fact that I am such a jerk for leaving Mae inside by herself." Sam started to pull away from Chin, but he held her firmly in place.

"I can't go in there," Chin stated quietly. Sam understood what he meant. While she didn't have all the details, she knew Chin had been the victim of some ridiculous accusations and lost his badge. John had told her a little about it but not many details.

"Come in with me. Sit with us," Sam implored. Chin shook his head. "Anyone dares say anything or even look at you funny, I'll show them what LAPD SWAT is all about." They both chuckled, knowing full well that Sam most certainly would.

Handing her back her cover, which he picked up before approaching her, Chin smiled at her. "He was so incredibly proud of you, Sam. He talked about you all the time."

It was Sam's turn to simply nod and once again, she tried to fight back the tears. "Then I owe it to him to get my sorry ass up off this bench and get inside, don't I?"

"You do what want to do, what you need to do, Sam. John won't judge you, you know he won't. And I know enough about you to know you don't care what anyone else inside that building thinks," Chin paused. "Well, no one except Mae. And Steve."

Sam just gave Chin a lopsided grin and shook her head. They stood up and Sam pulled Chin into a tight hug. "Mahalo."

"It was my pleasure and an honor, Lieutenant," Chin said with a mock salute after breaking the hug.

Sam slowly walked away, part of her still hoping Chin would follow her. She was disappointed to get to the doors of the church and realize he wasn't behind her. She looked at her watch and realized she had lost nearly half an hour. Before opening the door, Sam looked to the beautiful, clear blue sky. "You did this on purpose didn't you, you old coot? You made me have a freaking panic attack so I'd miss nearly the entire service. Because I am sure you planned it to the most minute degree, probably timed it out," Sam whispered out loud. She chuckled at the thought, but she did feel a sense of calm and peace settle over her. She could have sworn she felt a hand on her shoulder again. She turned and found no one there. She smiled. John, she thought. He's right there on my shoulder, like always.

Taking a deep breath, Sam quietly opened the door to the church and made her way to the sanctuary. Thankfully, the doors were open, so she stepped inside, scanning the crowd for Mae's strawberry blonde head. But it was the head of brown hair in the front pew that caught her eye first. Sitting ramrod straight in his dress blues was Steve. Sam felt her breath catch in her throat, knowing this was the first time in years since they had been in the same place at the same time. 2008 didn't count. He didn't know she was there and with any luck, it would stay that way. Trying to shake those images from her mind, Sam caught something in her peripheral vision and turned slightly to her left, where she found Mae's eyes boring into her own. Sam made her way to the pew and managed to silently squeeze in on the end next to her aunt. Mae's eyes looked at her inquisitively. Sam simply shook her head once, as if to say, 'not now'.

As Sam had suspected, the service was practically over. She realized she was grateful to be in the back. Even though the casket was closed for obvious reasons, Sam couldn't bear to be that close to John at that moment, knowing how he died.

The priest relayed the burial information to the crowd and everyone stood as the pallbearers made their way down the aisle. The burning in her eyes forced Sam to drop her head and look away from the casket. She silently cursed herself, chastised herself for being such a crybaby. She was ex-CIA and now part of one of the most elite SWAT teams in the world. Didn't work. Because it was John. Sam felt like she had lost her father all over again.

While Sam stood in the back row, berating herself, she missed the fact that a certain Navy SEAL had looked in her direction. Steve recognized Mae but it took a second to realize the tall red head in the police uniform next to her was Sam. Mae and Steve acknowledged each other briefly as he made his way out of the church. When Mae turned to say something to Sam, she realized her eyes were closed and a stray tear had made its way down her cheek. Sam seemed to be mouthing something to herself, completely lost in her own world. She opened her eyes when she felt Mae's hand on her arm.

"Sweetie?"

"Sorry, Mae," Sam started to say but Mae held up a hand to stop her.

Quietly, Mae leaned into her. "You do not owe me or anyone else an explanation. John understands."

Sam covered Mae's hand with her own. "That's what Chin said to me outside."

"Chin Ho Kelly was here?" Mae asked, slightly surprised.

"Yes. He came up behind me as I was having…a moment. He sat with me for a bit and let me work through it. I can see why John respected him so much. Chin's a really wonderful man. Too bad HPD didn't see that," Sam replied bitterly. Mae simply nodded her head but looked around to see if anyone had heard their exchange. Most HPD officers were not fond of Chin. Luckily, the processional of officers had thinned out and the sanctuary was only occupied by about a dozen or so cops and a few civilians.

"I agree but that's not something to talk about in a church full of Honolulu's finest," Mae stated. "Let's get out of here. Are you up to the cemetery or…"

"Yes, we need to be there." Mae nodded at her niece and the two linked arms and made their way out to the parking lot.

As they climbed into the car, Mae stole a glance at Sam. "Did you see him?"

Sam smiled out the window. "If by 'him', you mean Steve, yeah. Sorta."

"Sorta?"

"I saw the back of his head and shoulders, which is more than I've seen in 18 years," Sam retorted. She couldn't mention 2008. It was still highly classified information that not even Steve knew about. The only people who knew Sam was in that village in Fallujah were Matty, Jazz and Cruz. Well, the only people alive. Everyone else, including Ben, was dead.

Mae let the bitterness she heard slide. Sam was exhausted and on edge. That was never a good combination to push so Mae let it go. They drove in silence the rest of the way.

Once Mae parked the car, Sam got out and stared down at the spot where John was about to be laid to rest. She took a deep breath and looked back at Mae. She knew what was about to happen.

When Samuel and Stella Devereaux died, the MacGarrett family took Sam in for the brief time it took to find Mae, who was on vacation in London, and get her on the next flight to Honolulu. Samuel had borrowed a friend's helicopter and took Stella on a weekend trip to a private resort up in the mountains. Sam stayed at the MacGarretts house for the three days they were gone. On their way back from their romantic getaway, mechanical failure forced the helicopter to crash land in a remote part of the island. It took several days to find the wreckage. When the couple were buried, the MacGarrett family stood beside Mae and Sam. Steve wouldn't leave his best friend's side, holding her hand throughout the service and burial. When Doris MacGarrett died in a fiery car crash, Sam wouldn't leave her best friend's side, holding his hand throughout the service and burial. Sam kicked herself for missing today's service, but she was bound and determined to be there for Steve now, as his father was laid in his final resting place.

Sam walked down the slope of the cemetery, her eyes never leaving the back of Steve's head. Before anyone could get the chance to stand next to him, Sam walked right up to the seat adjacent to Steve. After a moment but without so much as a sideways glance, Sam laced her fingers with his. She felt a little resistance, as if Steve was surprised to have someone holding his hand. But it was quickly followed by a gentle squeeze. While neither of them turned to acknowledge the other, they both realized there was no reason to. Eighteen years and thousands of miles of distance disappeared, and they were once again two kids, mourning the loss of their parents.

The grave side service was even briefer than the church. Once it ended, Sam finally turned to look Steve in the eye. Without a single word, the two wrapped their arms around each other and held on for the briefest of moments before pulling back. Both seemed to have so much to say but didn't know how to say it. So instead, Steve leaned over and placed a kiss on Sam's cheek and whispered in her ear. "Thank you, Red." And before she could respond, he was gone.

Sam let out a deep breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding. What just happened? Or more like, what didn't just happen, she thought. Sam couldn't decide if she was upset or relieved. Was she upset because she had thought – or more like hoped – Steve would want to talk to her about the last 18 years of their lives? Or was she relieved because if Steve had written her off years ago, that made going after Victor Hesse a lot easier on her?

Sam turned back to the casket. She looked around to ensure no one would overhear what she had to say. Laying her hand on John McGarrett's casket, the words she desperately wanted to say wouldn't come.

"I…there's so much…I can't…" Sam couldn't get out what she needed to say. The guilt she felt weighed so heavily she couldn't even complete a sentence. She knew he would have understood, would have put an arm around her shoulders and told her to let it go. The guilt would kill her if she let it. He had told her that once. That guilt had a way of eating you up and spitting you out before it came back for seconds. She tried to start again, but the path from her brain to her mouth had apparently shut down. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and simply leaned over and placed a light kiss on the smooth wood of the casket and whispered, "I love you, Pops." She dropped her forehead against the cool wood and said a brief prayer before pushing herself away.

From above, Mae watched her niece struggle. There was little she could do. She knew Sam was eaten up with guilt and grief and responsibility that was not hers to bear. Mae looked to the skies and sent a prayer of her own that she hoped would be answered, to give her beloved niece something she hasn't had in years.

Peace.