The waiting is the hardest part.

He feels like he needs to do something, anything, but all he can do is bounce his leg up and down.

The mission also grates on him. It seems wrong, but he has no choice. He has to do it.

His palms are sweating. Does he normally get this nervous before a simple mission? He doesn't remember nerves like these. His stomach turns, his breath is short. Why does he feel like this? Why can't he calm down?

The gun, which had fit so perfectly in his hand earlier, now feels weird and unnatural. He thinks he'll miss if he tries to shoot. He can't imagine hitting a target while his hand shakes so much.

He doesn't understand why he feels like this.

But his job isn't to understand.

His job is to complete the mission.

And he doesn't have a choice about that.

"Bad news," Chin said as he hung up the phone. "Charlie's car is in the shop, so he can't get down here unless we go get him."

"Why can't we just have another patrol bring him?" Kono raised an eyebrow at him. "You are calling in for backup on this, aren't you?"

He shook his head. "Not a chance. As of right now, we're two cops investigating a location where a murder victim might have been at one point or another. We call in HPD, this warehouse is going to be the center of attention the island over. Denning's going to hear about it, and he's going to hear about the torture chamber, and he'll know exactly what's going on. At the very least, we'll be booted back onto our regular duties. At most, he'll twist things to where it looks like we knew Wo Fat was in on this from the beginning and have us arrested. I don't like either of those options, how about you?"

His cousin stared at him for a moment before her face cracked into a large smile. "Are you suggesting subterfuge, Captain Kelly?"

"I suppose I am." He smiled back, and suddenly it seemed like nothing had changed between them. They were two cousins, best friends, sharing a joke and a smile.

Everything had changed, unfortunately. And they were standing right next to a torture chamber.

And yet, Kono's smile didn't fade away. "Well, we can't both go. Someone has to stay here and watch things. Why don't I get Fong?"

"I think he'd like that." Chin tossed her the keys. "Hurry back."

"And you stay safe, hear me?" Her eyes held pain for a brief moment before she waved and went outside. For the first time in a long time, he could read her thoughts. I don't want you to get hurt, too.

"I will," he whispered. He waited until the engine's roar died down before pulling a digital camera from his bag. This scene had to be documented some time, and with only two officers and a lab tech on the case it was best to get an early start.

He found at least four unique sets of footprints aside from his and Kono's as he traced the path from the warehouse entrance to the torture room. He took pictures of each one, and started into the office itself. The smell stopped him dead in his tracks, like it had last time.

He knew that smell brought on the strongest memories, but he had never realized how true this was until this crime scene. The sharp odors of intermingled human waste and blood took him back to the compound. When he blinked, he saw Jenna Kaye lying pale and lifeless on the floor amongst some old crates. He heard the roaring of the helo as it landed urgently in front of them.

What happened? I thought you guys had them in sights.

We did.

So where the hell is Steve?!

I missed.

He shook himself from his stupor and wiped his face clean of tears. Steve was gone. Lori had missed the only shot they had at taking him back, and damn it if he didn't know that it was at least partially his fault.

He had suggested that Kono stay behind and run tech from the South Korea. After all, she knew how to work everything better than anyone else on the team. It had made perfect sense at the time, and she certainly hadn't protested. She had never blamed him.

His cousin was one of the best sharpshooters he'd ever met, with the possible exception of Steve himself. If she had been the one in that helicopter, she'd never have missed the shot. She'd have stopped the caravan before it took off with Steve to parts unknown.

Steve would still be here, Five-0 would still be intact, Joe wouldn't be missing, Kono's life wouldn't have fallen apart…everything would be right.

Nothing seemed to be right with Chin's world anymore.

He turned away from the office, deciding to leave it for last, and followed the trail of footprints to the next room. This room was almost as bad as the torture room, or possibly even worse. Fresh and more dried blood puddled on the floor, as if someone had been beaten and thrown about the room like a toy. He shuddered at the thought.

The drag marks mostly stopped at the first puddle, though a second set seemed to lead to an open closet door in the back of the room. Another door, this one closed, connected this room to the torture office. And yet another door stood open, letting sunlight stream into the room. A new pair of footsteps led from the closet to the table next to this door, and presumably outside from there.

Chin looked quickly throughout the room before walking into the alley in the hopes of finding a set of tire tracks or more footprints.

Instead, he found himself face to face with a man.

The man had obviously been homeless for quite some time. His wife beater was ragged and filthy, and the black shirt on top of it was in no better condition. His jeans were holey and covered in some undeterminable muck, and his bare feet seemed to be just as sticky and black as the shirt. Long, lank strands of gooey, greasy hair hung from a once-white cap to cover his eyes, and a stringy collection of facial hair masked the rest of his face. One of his legs bounced up and down on the dumpster he was sitting on.

Although the man didn't move when Chin approached, the native Hawaiian could have sworn the haole's eyes locked onto him immediately. "Aloha. Do you live here?"

"You a cop?" The voice was raspy and full of mucus, but something about it stirred up Chin's memories.

"Maybe. Do you live here? Have you maybe seen anything strange this morning?"

"The only strange thing I see is you, pig." Chin narrowed his eyes, but the man still did not stir save for that bouncing leg. "I knew you were a cop the moment you walked through that door. What brings your stink 'round here?"

"I'm investigating a homicide, and my partner and I found some strange things inside. How about you and I wait around front for her to come back?"

The man smiled, and though the grin was yellow and missing some teeth, Chin felt another tug at his memories. "I don't think we're gonna wait around for some pretty little thing like that."

Before Chin could react, the homeless man had drawn a gun and fired it. The bullet struck his left clavicle, and he screamed in a mix of rage and pain as he tried for his own gun. The homeless man jumped from his dumpster and pointed the gun directly between his eyes. Chin noticed that his hands were shaking like an addict's. "There's nothing stopping me from ending you right now, you filthy pig."

Chin released his gun and covered his bleeding shoulder with his good hand. "If you kill me, there's going to be a manhunt as big as this island's ever seen. My name is Captain Chin Ho Kelly of the Honolulu Police Department."

The man's stance crumpled slightly at these words, much to Chin's confusion. "Chin Ho…Kelly…?" His head tilted down to look at his gun, as if in disbelief that he had just shot it.

"Yeah. Put the gun down and let me call for help, and maybe I can get you help too."

The homeless man was shaking like a leaf by this point, and his gun fell to his side as he took a shuddering breath. As strange as Chin found his reaction, he wasn't going to question it. He slowly moved his hand towards his pocket to get his phone.

Three shots rang out before Chin could dial dispatch. For a moment, everything stood still around him. He was acutely aware of the homeless man's rotted mouth opening in a shout, but he did not hear him. A breeze swept down the alley, its coolness soothing. He thought he heard Malia laughing in the distance, and although it should have seemed strange he found it perfectly natural.

Then he fell to his knees, and to his face from there. He couldn't feel the individual bullet holes in his back, but an alarmingly dull pressure told him that he had been struck multiple times. His shoulder barely hurt, even though its pain should have been exasperated by him falling onto it. He mostly just felt an overwhelming lethargy as he stared down the alley. His body wanted to sleep. His mind screamed that sleep would be a terrible decision.

Words came to him from somewhere as he fought not to close his eyes.

I knew you'd pansy out.

You son of a—

Aw, c'mon, I did you a favor. Let's scram, before that girl comes back. I think she was going to get more cops.

You shot him! You killed him!

Bang.

Bang.

His vision grew rapidly dimmer as he heard a thud in the far distance. In another dimension, something brushed his hand, shook him, pressed on the almost diminished pain.

Please help, there's…Ho Kelly…shot him, I shot…someone over…fore he…

And his vision blacked out, and his eyes slid shut.

And he didn't feel anything anymore.

Before he dies.

A/N: Hate mail to the left, please. T_T