"Hey," Danny whispered, gently shaking Catherine's shoulder.
"Hmmm?" Catherine murmured. "Danny; I'm sorry . . . I didn't realize I'd drifted off."
Danny grinned at her. "It's been a long . . . I've lost track of how long it's been. They need to check Steve's vitals and . . . stuff."
"You were sent in to recon?" Catherine smiled, accepting the hand Danny offered to help sit up. Steve's hand tightened around her, and he made a small sound of displeasure.
"Hey, sailor," Catherine said, "it's okay, they just need to check you over."
Steve cracked open his eyes. "Naturally. Because they couldn't possibly let me rest comfortably. That wouldn't be the Army way," he groused. "How's Riley?"
"All clear?" Dr. Reeves said, poking her head around the curtain. "Everyone decent? Nothing exciting happening in here?"
Steve glared good-naturedly at her. "I'm a Navy SEAL but even I have limits," he said, grimacing and gesturing in the vague direction of the catheter.
"That's my cue to leave for sure," Catherine said, chuckling. "Come on, Danny, let's find some coffee."
"Let's see how quickly we can get you . . . what was it you said - moving freely about the cabin?" Dr. Reeves said, smiling at Steve.
"How's Riley?" he repeated, as Dr. Reeves busied herself with checking his vitals and recording his fluid output.
"She is doing well, all things considered," she said. "We'll get to give you a more detailed report, but she's in and out. They have her on a pretty strong cocktail of sedatives and painkillers. You are improving, I'm glad to say. We should be able to pull that Foley if you'll cooperate with us continuing to measure input and output." She peered at Steve over the edge of her clipboard.
He rolled his eyes, and regretted it. He'd forgotten the concussion. "Can I do that as an outpatient? I need to get back to the office. I need to coordinate with Naval Intelligence; we have a situation -"
"Fine," Dr. Reeves said, shrugging. "The catheter stays in."
Steve groaned. "Okay, okay," he said, quickly, before she could leave. "Fine. I'll stay, I'll . . . measure. Whatever. Can I at least have a laptop and a secure line?"
"That can be arranged," she said, pulling on a pair of gloves. "If you're willing to let us move Riley one room over. She doesn't need to be in the middle of whatever operation you have going on."
Steve winced at the cheerful way Dr. Reeves snapped her gloves, and nodded morosely.
#*#*#*#*#
Steve had insisted that Danny stay with Riley; and tucked away the not-unpleased look on Danny's face to think about later.
"Okay, catch me up," Steve said. "Beginning to end, I need to know everything there is to know."
Chin simply handed him the tablet, and then he and Catherine sat quietly in chairs, giving Steve time to try to read and comprehend.
Steve silently paged through file after file; swallowing hard when he got to several pages of Doris' personal notes. Catherine held his hand, and brushed a kiss across his knuckles.
"Shit, Chin," Steve finally said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "How will I ever - how do we get past this?"
"By focusing on getting you and Riley healthy again," Chin said, "and then . . . just one day at a time."
"Who do I look for first?" Steve asked. "Doris or WoFat?"
"All available resources are searching for both," Catherine said. "So first, you look after yourself and your family."
A quiet knock at the door interrupted them.
"Hey, partner," Steve said, as Danny stuck his head in. "What's up?"
"Riley; or she will be soon," Danny said. "They think you should be there when she wakes up."
Steve nodded and gingerly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "I got it; I got it," he muttered, and Catherine rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. He made his way, painfully and slowly, but unassisted, to the room next to his.
Riley was drifting on a sea of painkillers and sedatives, and it took her a while to follow the sound of Rebecca's voice.
"Riley?" she was saying.
Riley managed to get one eye open. She vaguely recognized Rebecca, and standing behind her . . .
"Hey, Sunshine," she murmured.
The blue eyes crinkled with a smile, and there was a laugh right next to her.
"So, that nickname is gonna stick, Danny, I'm telling you," a voice said.
Riley tried to follow the sound of that voice. It was a good voice, and it belonged to good hands. The voice told her that she was strong and smart.
"Hey, sweetheart," the voice said, and her eyes cooperated, finally, and focused.
"Hey," she said, smiling. She tilted her head at the sight of Steve, sitting right next to her. "I thought maybe I had a bad dream. Is . . . do you have a concussion and a bruised kidney?"
Steve nodded slowly.
"Oh," Riley said, "you came; you came for me in that place . . . that wasn't a dream?"
She looked at Rebecca again. "You were there," she said, looking between Rebecca and Steve in confusion.
"She was, Riley, but she helped me get you out," Steve said firmly. "It's okay; you're safe now."
Riley put her hands to her head. "It was real? All of that was real? Olivia . . . Olivia is Shelburne, and, she knew. She knew, and she helped, and -" she broke off, her breathing rapid and shallow.
"Riley, look at me," Steve said, taking her hand in his, turning her arm over and stroking the still healing scar with his thumb. She calmed as she focused on his hands. "Yes, the woman you knew as Olivia; the woman I knew as Doris . . . our mother . . . was Shelburne. And she did know, and it's terrible, I know. But she also helped me get you out. She gave me a flash drive full of files, and information, so that I could help you. And we are pretty sure that she blew up the bunker so that we could get free."
"Did she get out?" Riley whispered.
"We don't know, honey," Steve said. "Catherine . . . you remember Catherine? Yeah. She has a team working very hard to find those answers for us. But right now, more than anything else, you need to rest, and heal."
"It hurts," Riley said. "It hurts a lot, and usually I can make it stop, but now I can't."
"Riley," Rebecca said gently, "you've been through an awful lot, and we're just figuring out it. I'm sure everything feels very differently to you than it did before, but please try not to let it frighten you, okay? You have some really painful injuries. The pain you're feeling is to be expected, I'm afraid."
"It's okay," Riley said, "it's better than feeling so fuzzy. I'm still not sure . . . some of it can't have been real, but it seems so real . . ." The readings on her cardiac and respiratory monitors increased.
"What parts don't seem real, babe?" Danny asked. He glanced at Steve, concerned; he had a feeling exactly the parts that Riley couldn't figure out. "You were deliberately given some false information to work with. That might be the part that doesn't make sense now."
Dr. Link had slipped quietly into the room; he was now sporting a lightweight splint over his nose, with spectacular bruising showing underneath. He tilted his head toward the monitors by way of explanation. "It seemed there was an important conversation starting," he said, kindly. "It's okay, Riley. You're safe here. All of the drugs should be clear from your system, and I'm sure you're starting to remember bits and pieces. We've found, in cases like this, that going ahead and putting everything in order, while difficult, can be less frightening than dealing with uncertainty. So, go ahead, tell us what you remember. Steve and Danny will help you sort it all out, okay?"
Riley looked at him uncertainly, then glanced at Steve.
"It's okay, Riley," he said, his thumb still tracing over her wrist. "Start -" he broke off uncertainly, looking up at Dr. Link.
"You were with her when she had the seizure?" Dr. Link asked Steve, who nodded. "Okay, let's start there. Let's see if we can re-establish an accurate short-term memory timeline for her. We'll worry about long-term later."
"Riley, do you remember being in the house up on top of the ridge?" Steve asked quietly. "It's your house; Hideki Mokoto left it to you. Remember?"
Riley nodded. "It's beautiful . . . the architecture is Japanese. It smells like sandalwood and teak."
"Yeah, it is beautiful. You seem really happy there," Steve said. "We were there."
"And Joe, and Jerry," Riley said, her eyes widening in horror. "Something happened, and . . . it hurt. It hurt so much, and we left, and -" She stopped cold. "That's how you got hurt. Are they dead? They aren't here . . . the keyboard. That's all I could hang on to, of Jerry, was the sound of the keyboard but now I remember . . ." She grabbed Steve's hand with hers.
"They're okay, Riley," Steve assured her, quickly. "They're here, at Tripler. Joe's beat up, and Jerry has a really serious fracture, but they're okay. They're going to be okay. Do you remember what happened? At the house."
"Jerry and I were setting up a secure line, and . . . lights. I remember strange lights, behind my eyes, and then . . . I don't remember," she said, frustrated.
"That was probably the seizure," Dr. Link commented quietly, glancing at the monitors. "Riley, you're past due for pain relief, let me -"
"No, please," Riley said. "Please, not until I remember what happened."
"Okay," Dr. Link said, shaking his head reluctantly.
"I have an idea," Rebecca murmured, as she fetched a coldpack and activated it, pressing it gently against Riley's collarbone, and tossed another one to Steve. "Put that against her hip . . . there. How's that, sweetheart?"
"That helps," Riley said. "Thank you. I don't remember having a seizure," she said, frowning.
"You wouldn't remember it," Dr. Link assured her. "But from what Steve described, and what we could read from the . . ." he hesitated, ". . . from the records that were kept, that's what happened."
"I was . . . I was still at the house but there - I was afraid," she said, looking up at Steve in confusion. "I was afraid of you?"
Steve nodded. "Yeah, there . . . Riley, do you remember, we discovered there was technology."
"Yes. Shelburne was watching; always watching. And trying to make me - they tried to make me shoot Charlie," she said.
"RIght," Steve said, "but you didn't. Okay, the same technology . . . they tried to make you afraid of me."
"We were going to go somewhere," Riley said, closing her eyes. "I was riding with Jerry." Her eyes flew open. "There was an explosion and Jerry - your truck, it flipped, and Jerry almost made it all the way around, and I was yelling at him to stop - did I hurt Jerry?"
"No, no, you didn't hurt Jerry," Steve assured her. "Shelburne's people kept coming after you. Jerry almost got away, he did great, but there were too many of them."
Riley's eyes filled with tears. "I thought you were all dead," she whispered. "Jerry, and you, and Joe. It hurt so bad, and Jerry tried to cover me, and I thought he was dead. They pulled me out of the SUV; I remember. There were . . . they had Jeeps. It . . . it hurt. I think I passed out."
"God, I hope you did," Danny muttered. "It would have been a small favor."
"What do you remember next?" Steve said. "Do you remember waking up?"
Riley nodded. "You were there," she said, looking up at Rebecca. "But I could only see your eyes. And then there was more . . . I kept dreaming; terrible dreams, it was awful. About . . . " she paused. "The team. Five-O. It's real?"
"Yes, absolutely," Steve said firmly. "You're part of the team. It's real."
"I don't understand; Olivia said . . . she said I'd imagined all of it," Riley said. Her hands began to shake under Steve's.
"Riley, it was the technology," he said softly. "They were using it against you. They were trying to convince you that you were safe with them." It was the gentlest way he could think of to explain the psychological torture that had been inflicted on her.
"They told me that the team was something I had created," Riley said. "Olivia. Olivia said that I had created the team as . . . as an escape, because you -" her voice broke, and she closed her eyes, looking down at Steve's hands again.
"Riley, it wasn't me; God, I swear to you, they created that memory. It wasn't me, it was . . . " he hesitated, looking up again at Dr. Link. "Sorry, I don't know how to try to help her remember without -" he broke off helplessly.
"WoFat," Riley blurted out. "WoFat hurt me . . . he electrocuted me and - there was water - I remember. It was WoFat. It wasn't you. It wasn't you and she tried - she said it was you." Tears began to slip down her cheeks. She shoved her hair out of her face impatiently.
Danny fished around in his pocket and came up with a hair elastic - Gracie was forever pulling hers out and handing them to him; he'd long ago stopped even bothering to keep track, and just let them go through the laundry and stay put in his pockets, for when she inevitably needed one. He stepped behind Riley's bed and raised it gently - wondering what it said that he knew how to operate the beds at Tripler as well as the nurses - and gently gathered her long wavy hair in his hands. With infinite gentleness, he began to weave her hair into a braid, just as he had done before. Rebecca watched in amazement.
"No, it wasn't me," Steve said. "It wasn't me, Riley. That part wasn't real. And the team - your friends, Catherine, Jerry - that's real."
"Why?" Riley whispered. "Why would she do such a thing?"
"I don't know why she started," Steve said slowly. "But at the end . . . it was the only way she could think of to save your life. She was trying to prove the technology worked, and you were fighting it . . . she was trying to save your life. It was all she had left."
Riley studied Steve for a long moment, and he reached up and gently brushed the tears off her cheeks.
"No," she said finally, her tone flat, cold, and angry.
No, Danny thought. Not angry. He was an angry person; he knew anger. This was . . . rage. It sent a chill up his spine, and he wrapped the elastic around her hair and stood back, instinctively putting Rebecca behind him. Dr. Link took a healthy step away from the bed, as well, so Danny knew this wasn't his imagination. Only Steve seemed unmoved and unafraid, as he sat, still brushing his thumb over Riley's wrist; the smooth, repetitive motion that seemed to calm them both.
"No," she repeated. "It wasn't all she had left. She could have called you. She should have known you would come after me. You'll always come after me."
Steve smiled, fondly, and nodded. "Yes, Riley; I'll always come after you."
"Then so will she," Riley whispered. She turned, and her eyes fell unmistakably onto Danny's gun, holstered, as usual, at his side.
"You can't have a gun in here," Steve said, following her line of vision.
She looked back at him, a soft smile on her face. "That's okay, I don't need one," she said. Danny recognized the look in her eyes, then - it was the same one Steve got when they were in a tough spot, and he was calculating how many ways he could incapacitate people with things like paperclips or cheese slices.
"Holy shit," Rebecca whispered from behind Danny. There was a moment of dead silence in the room, and then the IV alarm sounded, shrill and demanding.
Riley blinked rapidly, and looked around. "Ow," she said, wincing, as the movement pulled against her collarbone. "Oh, hey, Sunshine," she said, smiling tiredly up at Danny. "Thanks for pulling my hair back." The smile was genuine; her eyes, though clouded with pain and fatigue, were warm.
"You're welcome, sweetheart," Danny said, a bit cautiously, glancing at Steve.
"What were you thinking about just then, Riley?" Steve asked. "Before the alarm sounded."
Rebecca held up the syringes in silent question to Dr. Link, who nodded. She added them to the existing IV, while watching to see Riley's response to Steve.
"Hmm?" Riley said absently. "Oh. You said I couldn't have a gun here . . . so I was looking for other options. If, you know. If . . . she comes after me. Or you. Or anyone."
"Riley . . . it's not your responsibility to keep us safe," Steve said. "It's our responsibility to keep you safe."
Riley looked at him skeptically, and Steve smiled. Riley smiled back, cheeky and sarcastic, and Steve began to chuckle. Riley's smile turned into a laugh, and soon she was holding her bruised ribs and gasping.
"Are you saying you don't trust me to keep you safe?" Steve asked, holding his hand against his bruised back.
"Oh, but you've done such a great job so far," Riley said, "you and the CIA."
"We're the government; we're here to help," Danny said, starting to laugh along with them.
Rebecca looked at them, her hands on her hips. "You're all nuts."
"Sorry," Danny said, trying to keep a straight face, and failing. "It's . . . it's been a long couple of weeks."
"Yeah, what Sunshine said," Steve said. "Are you okay - oh," he said, looking down at Riley fondly. She was drifting off to sleep, her long lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. He leaned over and kissed her forehead gently.
"Come on, Super SEAL," Danny said, holding his hand out to help haul Steve up out of the chair. "Something tells me you're overdue for a dose of something yourself."
Steve winced on the way up, and wrapped his arm around Danny's shoulder, leaning on him.
"Need help back to your room, big guy?" Danny asked. He looked surprised when Steve nodded, but gamely started the slow walk back in that direction.
"I need to go check on Joe, and Jerry," Steve said, starting a determined limp past the door of his room.
"Stand down, Commander," Dr. Reeves said, popping out of his empty room, her arms crossed. "You are past due for fluids, and to my knowledge, you've not had anything to eat since . . . well, certainly not since you've been back here. Which is unacceptable."
Steve started to protest, but she held up a hand to silence him. "You're no good to your people if you're incapacitated, Commander," she reminded him gently. As Danny nodded in agreement, she turned on him. "And you, Detective Williams, when was the last time you had any rest, or food? Water? Anything?"
Steve looked down at Danny. "I'll rest if you do, partner," he said quietly. "Seriously, Danny, you look exhausted. I know you haven't left Riley's side. For that matter," he added, "neither has Rebecca." He looked at Dr. Reeves. "Can someone be sent to relieve her, as well?"
"On it, boss," Kono said, coming down the hall with Chin. "I'll sit with Riley, if you think that's okay."
Steve nodded in relief. "That . . . that would be great, Kono. Um, remember when she broke the doctor's nose?"
"Yeah . . ." Kono said, arching an eyebrow at him.
"So . . . just be careful," Danny said. "There's still . . . well, she apparently still has her moments."
#*#*#*#*#
Danny was sent to the small locker room on the secure wing, with a set of clean scrubs and a small shower kit.
"We keep a running supply," the orderly said, smiling at him. "Things get pretty crazy up here; when there's a security issue, sometimes we don't get to leave for days."
"Seriously?" Danny asked. "Wow, that's . . . well, that's actually a lot like Five-O."
The orderly laughed and handed Danny a towel.
When Danny emerged, damp but definitely refreshed, he almost barrelled over Rebecca, coming out of an adjacent shower stall.
"Sorry," Danny said, his strong arms wrapping around her, instinctively, to steady her.
"No problem," she replied. "I'm so tired, I can barely walk in a straight line," she admitted. Danny felt her petite frame trembling slightly beneath his hands.
"You're shaking," he said, alarmed.
"It's just . . . fatigue, and adrenaline, and very low blood sugar," she said, brushing her damp hair out of her face. "I'll be okay."
"Yeah, with rest, and some peace and quiet, and definitely some food," Danny said. "Come on, let's get you sorted."
"No, you really don't have -" Rebecca stopped, realizing that really and truly, she was so far past her limit, she was about to collapse. "Thanks," she said, instead.
Danny smiled and took her hand. "There's an empty bed in Jerry's room, and a really comfy chair. Have you met Jerry? You'll like him. Plus, he's mostly still sleeping, so it's quiet in there. Come on."
Chin was sitting next to the dozing Jerry, going over more files on a laptop.
"Danny," he said, looking up "And . . . Rebecca, is it? Man, you guys have been non-stop. You look axed. Here," he said, standing up. "Let me grab another chair . . . how about some food?"
"That would be great," Danny said, gently nudging Rebecca into the recliner, and pulling up the side chair and a small table. He grabbed a can of juice from a small supply that had been set up for Jerry, popped the tab, and handed it to Rebecca "Here, babe, drink this before you pass out."
She accepted the juice gratefully and started taking small sips. "You're good at this." She paused, sipping the juice and smiling at Danny. "Sunshine," she teased.
"I'm never gonna live that down," Danny groused, but he was smiling, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I think it's sweet," Rebecca said. "You're quite devoted to her. Your whole team is . . . intriguing."
"Yeah, it . . . takes some getting used to," Danny said. He looked up in surprise as Chin returned with trays of food. "How did you manage that so quickly?"
"Well, you know Kono has the metabolism of a humminbird," Chin joked. "Hang around her, you learn where the rations are stored. The staff here is very understanding of siege conditions, and they've been very generous. Nothing fancy, just sandwiches and fruit, but there you go. I'm going to go check in on Joe. You all get some rest."
Danny and Rebecca tucked into the food, and polished it off quickly.
"What?" Danny said, noticing that Rebecca was studying him.
"I have a lot of questions," Rebecca admitted. "And I have no idea what happens to me when I leave this hospital. I might be under arrest, or . . ."
"Hey," Danny said, reaching out and taking her hand. "No way. Are you kidding? You just helped Commander Steve McGarrett, of Five-O, rescue his baby sister from a rogue, disavowed, government program gone sideways. And you've tirelessly provided medical care under extremely difficult circumstances since. We've got your back, yeah?"
"Okay," Rebecca said, nodding. "All of that is true, I guess, except for one thing."
"Yeah? What's that?" Danny asked, still absently holding her hand in his.
"The tireless part," Rebecca said. "I'm so tired. I didn't think it was possible to be this tired." Her eyes were blinking slowly, and she rested her head against the back of the recliner, and her eyes drifted shut, and stayed closed.
"That's why," Danny said, as he stood and scooped her up out of the chair, "you get to go to sleep right here." He deposited her gently into the empty bed, chuckling as she immediately turned on her side, throwing an arm around the pillow, and snuggling her face into it with a sigh. He pulled the light blanket up over her, and smoothed it over her shoulder. Smiling to himself, he settled into the recliner, and was asleep in minutes.
#*#*#*#*#
Joe was aware of the passage of time, despite the painkillers and sedatives. He was aware of a terribly long passage of time, from Chin's initial hurried announcement that Steve had successfully brought Riley back, to now, waking up with Chin at the foot of his bed. Sitting. Watching.
"How are they?" Joe rasped. Chin, unlike Danny, didn't offer ice chips or hostile banter. Joe wasn't surprised.
"They are putting the pieces back together. Slowly," Chin said. "Steve exacerbated his injury. I'm not going to speak to you about Riley; that's up to Steve. She's alive, I'll tell you that much."
"Did Steve bring out any intel?" Joe asked. Damn it; he was going to be reduced to asking Chin for a favor. "Could I please have some ice?"
Chin nodded, and retrieved the ice from the sink counter. He brought the cup to Joe, jabbing a spoon in it as he crossed the room. "Steve retrieved some data," he said.
Joe took a spoonful of ice, let it melt in his mouth, and swallowed it gratefully. "You don't owe me anything; I understand. But please . . . Riley. Is it bad?" His voice cracked a bit, and he studied his cup intently.
Chin sighed. "It's . . . not as bad as it could have been," he said, relenting a bit. "Steve is resting now, and I'm not going to disturb him. He was on his way to check on you, and Jerry, but he needed to stand down. I'm sure he will be coming to talk to you, Joe."
"Thank you," Joe said. "Do you know if - never mind."
He looked so miserable that Chin felt himself relenting even more. "There wasn't anything in the file, Joe," he said sympathetically. "No mention of . . . parentage. Not even of Doris; not in that respect. If Steve found anything out, he's not mentioned it."
Joe nodded. "I understand," he said.
Chin started to leave the room, pausing and turning back at the door. "I'm starting to think . . . " he hesitated, looking at Joe. "Oh," he said, seeing what he was looking for, clearly, in Joe's expression. "You're not just saying that you think it's an outside chance . . . you're hoping . . . wow."
Joe shrugged, wincing. "A man my age, in my position, with my history . . . surely you can't blame me for wanting a shot at redemption," he said, quietly.