I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: my apologies for such a delay. This one has baffled the muse completely to call for a complete rewrite of these last major chapters. MANY, many rewrites so I hope this keeps the story moving in an interesting direction. Ongoing thanks to KQ and CinderH for an insane amount of patience and requests for re-reads.
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Chapter Twenty: No Kau a Kau ~ For Eternity
Devon Hayashi walked away from his father's property, but he didn't go far. He loitered in a beachside copse of tangled scrub, thick brush and driftwood. Precisely the same place where he once sought refuge and privacy to think as a boy. Minutes ago, he had truly forced himself not to react to his father's wrath, yet now his fists tightened in anger. Part of him wanted to go back, try again, while another argued for a feral violence.
"It's not going to work," Devon said out loud as he fought temptation to resume the confrontation and instead, sank down to sit idle in the sand. He had to work at un-peeling his fingers from the palms of his hands, disgusted by their tense muscular tremble. His next effort focused on regaining control of his breathing in order to make his heart ease to a more comfortable speed and not something he could literally feel in his neck.
"It will never work or change," he muttered regretfully to himself. He'd come back to explain things to his father now that he'd satisfied his prison term. He wanted the chance and had managed to swallow what remained of his own pride, but his father's had evidently never mellowed. Worse, instead of keeping his own temper and putting into practice all of those words, phrases and explanations he'd rehearsed for hours on end, Devon had instantly fallen into his own defensive habits.
He had paid for more than his share of life's dues. In spades - and if his old man had actually listened to him just once, he'd learn that his son had paid for his father as well by diverting trouble. However, the adage that one could pay for the sins and move on was a lie because here he was free and yet, he still had nothing. He was technically free, but still trapped.
"Old fool of a man," Devon bitterly voiced into the sandy ground. He had expected to see only his father, not a blonde stranger. Still, he didn't truly care about the cop; though knowing his father's eccentricities, it was odd to find him working alone in the shop. Despite that and at the end of the day, the cop really wasn't of his concern. Only his father certainly was, plus Devon's own longing to be heard. But as always, it wasn't ever the right time and his father was determined to be deaf to him regardless; so that only left one person for him to see.
His mother.
Even though she wasn't necessarily what he wanted - or needed - that fact left her to do what she'd always been prepared to do: provide unconditional love and understanding. She would intervene between the two and soothe with calming words. No matter the issue or what Devon might have done, Iris Hayashi would be happy to see her son. It was precisely for all of those reasons, she wouldn't be enough. Even though he was desperate to see her, he hadn't wanted his return to hold ulterior motives for her.
This time, he didn't want to ask for her help and yet, because of his father's reaction, he was forced to seek her out as if he were still a child. At nearly thirty years old, he was still unable to conquer his father head-on.
Devon checked the time on his watch and made a disgruntled face about what he had to do next. He hadn't wished to act the helpless boy by bringing his mother into the mix. He'd hoped for more from his father and sighed deeply in resignation. On a sunny morning, she'd be at the flower shoppe and likely readying special orders for the day. At the peacefulness of the thought, Devon tried to smile, but failed.
"Damn it," Devon cursed mildly under his breath as he glanced in the direction of his father's property and then back out across the ocean. He'd been away from Oahu for nine years and jailed for the last four. At first, he'd been excited to finally reach home. He'd missed the sun and the heat where all the smells and sights were so familiar. But he'd likely been wrong and there was probably no reason to believe in or hope for a warm homecoming for him. Though Devon didn't truly want to face it, his father's irate response to his return proved he had no family or a home to return to.
He knew his mother would smile, burst into tears at the mere sight of him, and then do her very best to help. But that wasn't what he craved. Devon had fought the feelings for too many years and it was as if he'd been trying to fight the very universe. As if he could already hear her words in his head, his mother was going to deny it that very day, but Devon Hayashi didn't belong anywhere.
With that grievous thought settled in his soul, he gathered himself together and left his old hiding place. He would pay what would become a spineless visit to her flower shoppe and simply be happy to see his mother. He would permit her to coddle and welcome him in her own special right. After though, he knew he'd still feel hollow and empty as she vainly pushed to merge her family back together.
She would fail, too. He would then be forced to commit one final personal act. What would come next might take him a day or two to finalize, but he only had one thing left to do after seeing her. No matter what his mother might try to say, his father's reaction had helped to put the finishing touches to plans which he'd hoped to avoid.
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No one was in the office when Danny got there. He was somewhat relieved because he should have gone directly home based upon how he was feeling. The drive back from the North Shore was long and added to an emotional stress. Making matters worse, the altercation and Makoa's abrupt dismissal combined to such a degree to where he simply couldn't turn his brain off. He needed to know more and was driven to concoct a series of likely and unlikely scenarios as he drove mile after mile back to headquarters.
So now, without having to look in a mirror, he knew that he looked precisely the way he felt. He was sweating, nauseous and exceedingly tired. Makoa had been upset and angry, yet he also had noticed Danny's growing fatigue. Any one of these factors alone would support the point that he should be home, resting.
He wanted five minutes on the computer though. Just five fast minutes to pacify a few of his contrived hypotheses and so, he paused in his office to take enough time to swallow pain medication for the body-wide ache he knew would soon descend. Then, he focused on the Smart table to initiate his top three scenarios on who the young Hawaiian could be by focusing on Makao Hayashi, first. He almost felt bad about punching the first few keys; guilty for looking up Makoa's personal information, and then downright discourteous for what his search might do to Kono's trust.
What he found was predictable at first: the bare specifics of dates, jobs, residences, and lack of police record. Makoa was precisely whom he said he was and Danny sighed in relief. No record, a better than modest existence, plus a respected member of the community. The man was an icon and a legend amongst the surfing community. He had a wife of over forty years and she, Iris, funny enough to coincide with her beautiful name, was a florist. But Danny was partly wrong as he continued to read and he groaned loudly.
"Car accident," Danny visibly winced when he realized that Iris Hayashi was deceased. Based upon the dated records, Iris had perished eighteen months earlier after a car accident on a busy highway during a rain storm. The accident was just that - a frightful turn of events that had left Makoa an unfortunate widower. The news was of course very sad and seemed to qualify some of the reasons behind Makoa's well-known temper and tendencies towards being a loner.
However, the next step in Danny's search confirmed the existence of one very troubled son and therein, Danny's first potential scenario began to ring true as mug shot after mug shot filled the overhead LCD panels. He knew he'd touched the tip of an iceberg. Something dangerous which bound and simultaneously shattered Hayashi's family. But he was too tired to continue as he stared, squinty-eyed at the young man he'd met that morning.
"Devon Hayashi, felon," Danny said to himself. "Unbelievable." He felt a pang of remorse for the elder Hayashi and what was now an understandable hot-blooded outburst of a father's wrath. Danny was physically unable to do more though as he literally closed his eyes when the brightness of the screens drilled an uncomfortable pounding pain through his eyes. His five minute vow was now closer to the thirty minute mar and simply put: he felt miserable. With a morning fraught with more stress than he'd ever anticipated, he better understood Doctor Fratelli's cautionary advice about the care needed during his recovery.
Having kicked in as he focused on his research, the medication he'd taken had merely made him more tired. The pills had settled with a sour ache in his empty stomach but weren't quite making a dent in the thud of persistent pain encasing his head. He was about to cross a line he didn't wish to test as his stomach twisted and threatened him with an extreme upheaval even though he'd accidentally skipped lunch.
Danny groaned resentfully at his own weaknesses. The air conditioning in the office didn't even feel good anymore. His head pounded, and his vision was a bit blurry but he kept reading about Devon Hayashi, suspected drug dealer, who had been accused of firing at several people on a city street. Two had been badly injured but thankfully, no one had been killed. Reports were sketchy as to why the incident had even occurred. Hayashi had eventually been sentenced to serve four years after admitting to aggravated assault, a fourth-degree felony with a one-year firearm specification, and trafficking in heroin, a fifth-degree felony. Overall, it was a light sentence. A lesser term than one would have expected for the multitude of transgressions. That too was an interesting twist, yet understanding why would have to wait.
"This guy's a real prince," Danny murmured under his breath. He tugged on his hair in a vain attempt to offset the headache, but it was useless. He'd been on his feet too long and was over-taxing himself. Wanting to investigate more as Devon Hayashi's records beckoned him to click on one link after another, but needing to lay down and knowing the data certainly wasn't going to change if he took a short nap, Danny locked the board with a screensaver. Then, he took aim for the long couch in Steve's office.
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"Where is he? Danny!" Steve frowned as he strode down the hallway, looking first into Danny's empty office and then taking in the empty space of the war room. "Hey ... Danny!"
They were coming back later than anticipated to the offices with intent to have lunch together. Calls to Danny's cell phone had gone unanswered and now, while the Camaro was in the parking lot, there was currently no sign of his partner. Aggravation had morphed into an awkward feeling of uncertainty and a flustered sense of something being wrong. "Where the hell did he go?" Steve complained loudly.
"Don't know," Chin answered from the vicinity of the men's restroom. "Not in there; it's empty." He had picked up his pace, the look on his face echoing Steve's rise in concern until Kono waved them both to a stop. She was standing just outside Steve's office with a finger to her lips signaling them to be a bit more quiet.
"He's in your office laying down on the couch," she whispered softly to Steve when he joined her in the hallway. Though she'd found him, Kono looked as worried as both Steve and Chin because finding Danny voluntarily laid out flat and unmoving was completely unnatural. An uncomfortable thought without real understanding crossed her mind about his time at Makoa's. "Somethings wrong or happened. He looks sick to me."
"He would have to be," Steve concurred quietly as he paused, one hand on the door as he looked through the glass window. "He'd never admit defeat unless he didn't feel well." He took a long moment to study his partner. Tucked on his right side, Danny had a poor excuse of a blanket draped only over his shoulders with his bare legs completely uncovered.
"I don't know when he got back here, but he didn't even change his clothes," Steve murmured in confusion. Danny's habit had been to visit Makoa during the morning hours to avoid the heat of the day. But when he reached the office, he typically hit the showers before changing into something more suitable. Instead, he was dead to the world on Steve's couch just as he'd gone to the workshop that same morning in well-worn shorts and a t-shirt. And based on the placid look of an unlined but somewhat pale face, combined with the subtle rise and fall of his chest, he'd been sleeping soundly for quite some time.
"So?" Chin smiled in relief as he peered around Steve. Danny's left hand hung lax off the side of the couch, his fingers open and pointing downward towards the floor. "He's out for the count."
"So ... we leave him alone," Steve stated flatly as his hand fell from his own office door. "Let him sleep. We'll draw straws on who gets take-out. It'll be easier in the long run."
"Your turn, cuz," Kono said, playfully punching Chin's shoulder. He was laughing and agreeing before she'd even finished her sentence. "I don't need to draw straws. It's definitely your turn, Chin!"
"Fine, I'm going!" Chin responded easily. "But if I'm paying, I'm bringing back what I want for a change."
Steve had to laugh with them, allowing the two to figure out the plans for an in-house lunch of sorts before Chin actually left. But something else was drawing his attention as he glanced suspiciously from his downed partner and then over to the Smart table. There was a sudden inkling that Danny had been up to something and so, with his interest piqued, he woke the screens. A myriad of pictures came to life to the left and right of the main LCD panel. All were of the same young man who as definitely of some kind of Hawaiian ancestry.
"What is this all about?" Steve muttered in surprise. Tattooed and belligerent in each mug shot, Steve could only stare blankly at the images and wonder what his partner had been up to before deciding to take an impromptu nap.
"No way," Kono gasped from just behind his shoulder. "What the hell happened today? He can't be back." With a few added taps, she flicked the files open on the main panel to see the reports of Devon Hayashi's rather deep laundry list of felonious crimes.
"Who? Who is this guy and how do you know him?" Steve was back to frowning again when Kono reacted so quickly and with a sense of true alarm. His eyes flew across the screen picking out key points, but that only led Steve to become more baffled. "He's a felon ... this is one hell of a rap sheet."
He hadn't quite engaged his brain on anything more than wondering why Danny might have been investigating such a dangerous man. Utterly confused, Steve stared at the images and slowly absorbed the facts that the young man in question had an intensely criminal past history which included aggravated assault and kidnapping offenses in the State of California. For the life of him, he hadn't quite put two and two together as to why Danny might have been investigating these particular files.
"Hayashi, Steve," Kono said with a distinctive tone as she realized Steve hadn't noticed the young man's last name for the list of major offenses against society. There was only one reason in her mind as to why Danny had accessed the file and she inwardly winced at the implications before voicing them aloud. "This is why Danny's not feeling well. Devon Hayashi is Makoa's son. He must have served his prison term and come back to Hawaii; he must have shown up at Makoa's today even though his father disowned him years ago."
"Disowned? Why would he come back then?" Steve unknowingly voiced Danny's initial personal thought. That consideration was the over-riding crux for many of Danny's original and very inventive scenarios. Waving his hands upwards towards years worth of evidence, Steve had to shake his head in bewilderment. "With a history like this and a family who evidently doesn't want him, why did he come back here?"
"Exactly," Kono muttered before she clamped her mouth shut. Consternation was written all over her face as the one comment sent her mind reeling. Why would he come back? Was he looking for trouble? Had he returned to settle a score with his father? Or, oddly, maybe he'd come back to reconcile ... which even to her, was an enormous stretch of reality.
"I don't know," Kono admitted. "I have no idea ... but based on the way Danny looks, whatever happened at the workshop was bad enough. I need to see Makoa ... none of this can be good."
"He doesn't want help and I don't think I look that bad. Thank you very much," Danny yawned widely around his words as he slowly walked across the floor. His head still hurt and he could scarcely keep his eyes open from the glare of basic office lighting. He interrupted Kono and ruefully lifted his eyebrows in an attempt to offset Steve's shocked expression at seeing him on his feet.
"You're wrong about at least one thing, Danno, because you look like total crap," Steve said, folding his arms tightly across his chest before leaning back to brace himself against the table. He then ignored the somewhat amused snort aimed his way about his not so pleasant compliment. "Anyway tell me this ... is Kono right? Makoa's son is back in town?"
"Seems that way," Danny replied. He made a face as he recalled the unpleasant surprise and the rude attempt made by Devon to dare touch his head. The brief distraction read across his face like an open book and Kono glanced worriedly to Steve.
"What happened?" Steve asked, eyes narrowing instantly in concern and a protective indignation when his partner's expression altered completely. There was a flicker of stress behind the pained weariness and Steve filled in the gaps easily enough. "He showed up at the workshop while you were there, didn't he? There was a what? A fight or an argument ... what happened between you and this guy, or with Makoa? What happened this morning, Danny?"
"Enough happened," Danny muttered somewhat evasively until he realized that he needed to elaborate just a bit more when his two friends frowned in a strange twin-like parody.
"There was an argument between him and Makoa; but I'm fine," Danny insisted. "Seriously, I am." If he hadn't been so under the weather, he'd have laughed at Steve's incessant ability to question and prattle on about his health. Kono wasn't buying anything he was saying either. But their combined worry was sound and Danny could only guess what he looked like since he wasn't feeling much better than when he'd arrived at the office.
For all intents and purposes though, Danny was still partly confused by Devon's inability or unwillingness to physically strike back that morning despite now knowing that he was Makoa's son. With a criminal record such as he saw, that ingrained anger should have been on the surface regardless of who stood across from him. Devon had practically threatened his father verbally, too, yet he had completely refrained from physical violence even when antagonized by his elder. It all meant something, but Danny was too tired to get into that side of the strange story.
"Let's just say that it was most definitely not a happy reunion between father and son; and Devon didn't appreciate my presence in his father's workshop. However, Makoa doesn't want anyone involved. Not you, me or anybody else for that matter," Danny added with a weary sigh.
Still feeling sick, Danny rubbed his face and winced against the steady throbbing which had settled in his skull. He'd slept for two solid hours, waking to the presence of company having finally arrived. Nonetheless, his body was arguing that he needed even more sleep and he didn't feel like disputing the fact. Now that he was awake, he only wanted to go home, draw the curtains and curl back up under the covers in a darkened room. He still wanted to deal with this Makoa issue, but later and at another time when he felt better.
"So that means we're going to get involved?" Steve grinned humorously as he warily examined the dull look to Danny's eyes. There was more to come but he was sure that his partner hadn't quite had time nor energy to discover it yet. If that was the case, then it would be faster and much easier for Steve to simply voice it all in order to get it over with. His chuffed snort was meant to be audible as he tightened his folded arms across his chest to finalize what was likely rattling around in Danny's head. "Because if he's refusing help, you think he actually wants it, right? You think something else is going on here?"
"Yup," Danny murmured while he searched his pockets for his car keys. "There's something bothering me about all of this. But not today and maybe not even tomorrow. The day after would be good though."
Steve lost what remained of his grin entirely at his partner's words which were now compounded by the jingle of keys. To not want to pursue something that day was one thing, but to bring up the next as a void was a possible example of how lousy he might truly be feeling. Playing along, Steve nodded if only to encourage Danny to get some rest outside of the office. "Alright, we'll pick this up in a day or two. We'll keep an eye on things here and see if Makoa needs any help ... even if it's only to make sure his son hasn't come back to kickstart some type of trouble."
"Uh huh. That's a terrible theory. I've known Makoa longer than either one of you and he always means what he says. If he said to stay out of it with his son, he meant it. We're only going to be making Hayahsi-san very angry," Kono recanted her earlier comment about seeing the man. She was torn in both directions of respectfully keeping their distance versus stepping in where they were obviously not wanted.
"You look awful, brah." Her lips were also now pursed in a thin white line as she studied Danny's glassy expression. She was concerned about what she saw, but hesitated briefly as her mind worked double-time over Devon's odd return. "You took meds, too. You are sick and you really think that you're gong to drive in this condition? Besides, Chin is out right now bringing back lunch and you probably need to eat."
"No food; I'm going home." Danny gulped hard at the thought of eating, one hand waving instantly in the air to vanquish the bare concept of eating. Unfortunately for him, it was the hand which held his car keys and he never saw the error of his ways until they disappeared from his grip a moment later.
"He needs to eat but he's certainly not driving looking the way he does right now." Steve quoted as he took advantage of Danny's lack of dexterity by plucking the keys from his fingers. "Case in point ... I think there's something on that bottle about operating machinery - something about not doing it if I recall. Impaired judgement ... poor reflexes."
"Wise ass. By the way, HE is standing right here," Danny griped in annoyance. Steve was virtually leering at him as he stressed his last few words, holding the keys high in the air as if to substantiate the same points. "I'm far from invisible and I'm quite capable of driving my own car."
But Steve only ignored the abhorrent look which streaked across Danny's face for the inflexible terms of his intervention and vowed to himself that he would apologize later to Chin for skipping out before lunch arrived. "Come on Miss Daisy ... we'll get you something light on the way back to your place. After, you need to get off your feet for real," Steve demanded, a firm hand guiding his partner from the main room.
With a slight smile on her face, Kono was listening as she watched them leave, but was admittedly distracted by the files which remained up on the screens. As soon as they were out of sight, she was turning back to avidly read through Devon Hayashi's files. She was as intrigued as Danny with his return and then confused as to why Danny might have also pulled up Makoa's personal records. She made a noise in the back of her throat about that before assuming he'd only done that as a starting point. It made perfect sense and easily led Danny down a path to readily identify Devon Hayashi's existence without crazily running through a multitude of miscellaneous unknown mug shots.
However, she was tempering intrigue with a stale, but remembered feeling of uneasiness. Her history with Makoa was ages-old and she'd known the younger version of Devon at one time - not necessarily as a peer, but as a devil-may-care troublemaker. He'd had his father's notorious temper. He caused trouble and had eventually found an association with others of the same ilk. Makoa had been confused, angry and understandably embarrassed by his only son's actions.
As a younger girl, she'd borne witness to some of those original stellar arguments between father and son. The faint memories made Kono shudder inside and she closed her eyes to conjure an old scene of flying fists, hateful voices raised in anger, and torn shirts.
If Devon was indeed back on the island, Kono could now only find herself fearful for Makoa's well-being. Because of that defensible truth, she needed to know more. Her mental apology to the older man was brief as she bent over the Smart table much as Danny had done to continue his research.
~ to be continued ~
