I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: thank you ALL - and especially the generous Guest(s) who are SO supportive of my story and writing in general. Once this story took a sharp turn, I was doubting its substance and if it made sense or was still an interesting read. So a serious thank you from me to you!
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
"Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time."
― Maya Angelou
Chapter Twenty-three: No Kau a Kau ~ For Eternity
Once Danny had obliged Kono's request, there was an absolute silence inside the house. The deafening period was like an agonizing prelude to something potentially terrifying and Danny was unable to keep waiting.
"Hello?" Danny triple-checked the connection to make sure it was still live. "Kono? Devon? Someone care to say something? Anything?"
He thought he heard a sound then; a sigh or maybe even a softly choked sob, but no more than that. Squinting upwards, Danny couldn't see any movement through the high rear windows. His angle was poor, the glare strong and the pounding in his head more than a simple inconvenience. Though the line was still open there was simply nothing to be heard. The next noise which eventually reached Danny through the truck's open window was the sound of a car's engine, the splatter of tires on torn up gravel, and then Chin's voice joined Steve's in his ear.
"HPD is a about fifteen behind me." Chin's presence was instantly calming, providing Danny with the additional comfort he needed for Steve to have proper back-up. For both Kono and Makoa to have a better chance of making it safely beyond the precipice with Devon. "What do we have? Any word from Kono?"
"Thank God you're here," Danny said after he pressed the mute button on the cell phone for privacy. He weighed in quickly before Steve had a chance to answer. "So far everyone seems relatively okay. Devon's got Kono and his father upstairs in the kitchen; he's under duress, most likely armed and evidently trying to get Makoa to understand his side of things."
"Danny's around back and hanging out in my truck managing the conversation," Steve softly supplied the additional information from wherever he'd stationed himself. "But we've got nothing but dead air since Danny helpfully advised Makoa the reason behind his son's stay in solitary."
"Interesting," Chin whispered. "I'm sure he wants more than just talk though. Steve? Where are you?"
The disgusted snort which echoed through all the comm units was undeniably from Danny. The darkly mumbled words were typically four-letters in length, included the word Camaro, one mutilated-sounding Neanderthal, and none were technically fit for many ears.
"Okay, then. That was apparently something I should have refrained from asking," Chin chuckled almost too loudly, entirely amused by the tirade until he heard Danny again.
"Try the top deck or even the roof," Danny groused unhappily when Steve stayed annoyingly mute. He knew that he'd heard the tell-tale sign of a wooden squeak and could easily guess what his aggressive partner had been up to doing. "Steve gives new meaning to needing a bird's-eye-view. He's going to be exactly where I asked him not to be."
There was a lull in their hurried conversation during which Danny grimaced in displeasure. The heat from the sun was beating down on his face through the windshield. It was so strong, that the air conditioning, even on full blast, was barely winning the battle. Danny was about to inquire again when he heard an agreeable sound right before Chin replied to substantiate the assumption.
"Yup. Got him. Top deck on the far right ... he's under cover," Chin confirmed, stressing the last few words to appease Danny, a smile evident in his tone. The resultant soft complaints were amusing to say the least. But Chin understood as he offered more in the way of his good-natured equable comments. "Now, let's keep everyone whole and alive. What's the game plan?"
Steve remained hunched down where he was on the top deck. He waved to Chin to quietly ascend the staircase gesturing for the man to join him so he could monitor the opposite corner. The manner in which the deck had been built provided for a short, shallow alcove along each side of the house. The space was a virtual waste and would have held recyclables, garbage pails or any other miscellaneous throw-aways, unless you were of course, Makoa Hayashi. On Steve's side, the sliver of deck was a neat jungle of potted ferns, exotic flowers and lush patio tomato plants. Steve would bet the same home-made garden of orderly vegetation would exist on the far side, as well. He had to be careful, side-stepping over ceramic pots and trays of plants, however it was worth his diligent care for the benefit of the small open window to the bathroom.
Though he couldn't precisely make out any actual words, except for what he gleaned from the cell phone and through Danny's chatter, he had been able to hear the murmur of overlapping voices from within the kitchen. While it certainly wasn't perfect, he was making due because what he did have through the tiny pane of glass was a partial view of Kono's left hand, one leg of the chair she sat in, and the shadow thrown across the room by Devon as he paced the floor.
Steve could tell that she'd been cuffed based upon her stiff posture and he certainly didn't approve. But what he did appreciate was her positioning in the room. Kono was farthest from the door and slightly shielded by the big wooden table. Based upon the shadowy outlines thrown by Devon, he was essentially closest to Steve with only the faintly yellowed siding of the actual house separating them. That left Makoa, and Steve rightly assumed that the Hayashi elder was closest to the front door and in the most tenuous of positions.
"It's gone," Danny's voice came over the comm link. He sounded worried and even a bit distressed. "They cut the connection. I'll give it a few minutes and call back. Can you see or hear anything at all?
"Sort of," Steve whispered as softly as he could. "Hold on ... give me a second. They're starting to argue again." He peered through the window, his ears drilling a veritable hole through the space in an attempt to pick up the words now being shared amongst the three.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Devon stared at his father, eventually focusing on the man's damaged left hand. The great Makoa Hayashi and the near mythical story of how he'd been nearly killed by a great white shark flittered through his mind. He was the son of this legendary man but not truly cut from the same cloth. He knew he'd always been an embarrassment because just like most people, even Devon feared the reputation and choleric personality. Even now, all of those traits continued to come to the fore as Kono firmly repeated her request for him to be heard.
Devon winced as his father inhaled a snorted contemptuous sound. Makoa didn't care about the reasons behind his protective stint in solitary. In the grand scheme of things, that truth meant little. The guttural noise was a signal; another prelude to indifference. Nothing had changed from the rank odor of left-over tobacco inside the small but neat house, to his father's strict sense of honor. However, in Devon's reality, everything which had ever been important in his life had been irrevocably transformed.
"Listen to him?" Makoa choked out an unexpected laugh from where he sat at the head of the table. His hands were splayed wide as his son had insisted. Yet the fingers on his right hand flexed while his nails dug into the worn lines of the ancient wood. What remained of his left tapped a repetitive tattoo of sound. The timbre of his voice was sharp and it cut through the silence in the small room like a mocking challenge.
"Makoa, please," Kono whispered urgently, an unhappy frown creasing her forehead as Devon reacted badly in kind. She pulled vainly on her wrists out of nervousness, cursing her continued physical helplessness. Her heart had never stopped its uneven cadence from the moment Makoa had been forced to cuff her in place and now Devon was making her skittish. She shook her head imperceptiby, perturbed with herself for even giving Topher Reid a minuscule millisecond of her time. Angry even for allowing him to sneak back into her mind in order to make her as jumpy as a school girl. She wasn't drugged or unable to speak her mind; this room had windows and a door. Her team was outside and Devon Hayashi was certainly not a psychopath like Reid.
Leaning back in the chair, Kono relaxed her muscles one by one all the way down to her fingertips, surprised when she realized that her fingers had gone numb. "You seriously want me to listen to him?" Makoa growled nastily.
"I do," Kono declared. "You have to." His reaction to what Danny had shared about the prison guard wasn't at all what either she nor Devon had anticipated. For her part in the incredible situation, Kono was simply stunned to her core. But for Devon, a brief flare of hope that his father might listen to just one bit of decent news had been snuffed to nothing more than a black pile of ash.
"Is what Danny just said supposed to mean that I forgive him entirely? I have to listen to this ridiculous confession?" Though it wasn't entirely meant to be a jibe, his father's nervousness and inability to control his emotions with the outburst caused Devon's face to redden and his fingers to reflexively tighten just a bit more around the gun's grip.
"Why don't you ever listen to anyone?" Devon muttered in a disheartened tone. "Why? Why did I want to try?"
"You do have to give him a chance," Kono insisted. "You have to because this time, it's not what you think and he needs this from you." Instead of heeding Kono's pleas, Makoa shook his head with a resolute stubbornness.
"Listen to what exactly? How he was setup and wronged? How you think he might have been pressured into confessing to something he didn't do? Is that what you're going to try to say next?" Makoa sneered derisively. "Whatever he's going to say ... it's too late. Especially with Iris gone ... it's all just too late."
Not knowing how Devon might react as his father literally voiced the cold truth and mourned his wife's passing, Kono remained tense, however, his father's final comments - spat out as angrily as they were - had already made that dangerous impact on his son. Devon was listening to every single word and as any tiny tendril of hope left him, he was falling back into a dark abyss. Kono jolted badly when her cell phone chimed again, vibrating in place on the table top. The three stared at the device and then two pairs of trapped eyes flew to Devon's face, yet he made no move to answer it.
"Hayashi-san, you need to listen for a change," Kono said, resorting to her usual honorific to communicate the man's need to be equally respectful. For a moment, she ignored the look on Makoa's face to blatantly study Devon. This time, she pleaded with the son for an ounce of residual patience from his incredibly obstinate, narrow-minded father.
He was breathing heavily though and seemingly frozen in place. He looked at Kono and seemed to understand her silent message. However, she couldn't read his expression or get a handle on what he might be thinking. Fearing the worst and that he was finally coming unhinged from the slim self-control he'd managed to maintain, Kono insisted on keeping his gaze, nodding her plea soothingly before carefully speaking her own mind.
"Yes," she replied just as calmly as before. "That's exactly right. Your son was setup and he did go to jail for something he didn't do, Makoa."
She gave a light shrug when Devon cocked his head in disbelief at her defense. She had his attention now and so, her gaze traveled back to Makoa's face. She was nothing but projecting a tranquil sense of calm to offset the sting of Makoa's skeptical tone. With every ounce of conviction she could muster, Kono resumed speaking directly to Makoa as if picking up their earlier conversation precisely where they had left off before Devon's arrival.
"Like I said before, Danny opened the files after Devon first showed up here; I followed through on a few key things. I found that there are definite inconsistencies with the witnesses and how the trial was conducted. Things are a bit ... off," Kono said as she snorted softly under her breath. "You asked me before if your father asked for our help? Actually no. He didn't ask us to do a single thing. We took it upon ourselves and found holes in your case ... holes in your defense ... and major gaps in your sentencing. I've been asking your father to listen to me on your behalf. Devon, I've been trying to have the same conversation with your father that you've been trying to have."
He didn't know to say to that revelation. The second paroxysm of silence seemed to threaten the room with a heavy blanket which smothered the very air in Devon's lungs. He stared in confusion at Kono and backed up one full step, shaking his head the entire time. He swallowed hard as if looking for the right words or even any words that might make sense before finding something to say out loud. "Why? Why would you do that?"
There was a chuffed snort of disgust from the elder Hayashi sitting at the table. From his view, his son continued to hold a gun to his head. He saw no value in what Kono or Danny had tried to communicate and now, he saw even less reason to listen to either of them. Devon shuddered inside at the sound which indicated his father's ongoing loathing. In response, Devon gestured wildly with the gun before glaring at Kono.
"See? He'll never listen," Devon's voice cracked and he gulped again, momentarily losing control of his emotions. His fingers spasmed around the gun's grip as sweat began to bead his forehead. "So why ... why would you do that? You don't even know me."
"Because it's all of our job to get to the truth. So like I said, I've been asking your father to listen to me on your behalf," Kono repeated. Any number of additional, reasonable responses flooded her mind but she needed to select the best one. The one she selected was equivalent to dropping a bomb squarely in the middle of the rough-hewn table which separated them. "Why did we keep poking? I don't know ... maybe because one thing kept leading to another. Because, Devon, after what Danny and I found caused us to believe that you took the fall for Cade Keahi, the main boss for the gang you were involved with here in Oahu. The prosecutor was in on the take and you were forced to cut some sort of a deal in order to protect your father."
Kono watched as her words settled like a mantle across the space between them. Even Makoa perked up now, his once ironclad expression changing as he watched his son's reaction to Kono's explanation. He blinked and then heaved in a quizzical breath of air when nothing happened. Devon's face was covered in a sheen of sweat. Though his hand never wavered as the gun unerringly remained focused on his father, Devon was staring at Kono with an unreadable look.
"Is it true? This Keahi used me to threaten you?" Makoa finally asked. His voice had lost some of its harshness, yet the tone was guarded and not entirely convinced as he continued to look down the barrel of a gun. "Tell me, Devon ... is what Kono said the absolute truth?"
Devon nodded once, a quick jerk of his head followed with another agonized swallow as if he'd eaten glass. He had no idea how Five-0 had discovered the depths of this particular truth. Discussing Cade Keahi was more than he had ever wanted to mention to his father. The man had aimed to destroy his home and murder his parents should Devon not tow the line ... be the whipping boy ... for his greater plans. In the end, Devon had managed to sell his very soul without ever realizing it was happening until it was much too late. He'd played with fire and had been destroyed in the aftermath.
"It's why you came back isn't it?" Kono gently pushed to prove her own valid point, but she received nothing else in return. Her cell phone was ringing again, but this time, even she ignored it for the ground she was gaining. She ignored her stiff shoulders and the way the cuffs made her wrists feel. She felt that she was finally winning as she pushed carefully but persistently. Confessing and asking for his parents' forgiveness had been the core driver for Devon's return.
However, Iris's death had taken precedence. Still, they had managed to come full circle. For the moment, Devon's nod would have to do and she sighed since the son was so very much like the father. A lack of answer and an instant clouding of his face clearly supported the validity behind her question, yet Devon stubbornly wouldn't verbalize what he was really after.
Forgiveness. Love. Most of all ... trust.
"We can fix this," Kono insisted. "We can ... but as a first step, you both have to trust each other."
She hesitated, her mouth dry, in order to take in a deep breath of air, expelling it loud enough for father and son to look directly into her face. She had nothing else to really offer the two and so Kono took the opportunity to be completely blunt. "You both have to because it's what Iris would have wanted."
~ to be continued ~