Steve stared at the man in front of him. Joe had lost weight but not muscle; he was as fit as Steve remembered from his days in BUDs. A fresh, barely healed scar glinted pale in the flourescent lighting, curving across his forearm and disappearing into his sleeve. He carried himself with the same quiet, incontrovertible authority.
"It was the best way I could think of to help," Joe said quietly. "And no, Catherine didn't know."
"Know what?" Catherine asked, confused.
"You didn't know that Joe was back, working officially as part of Special Activities," Steve said, quickly putting the pieces together. "You disappeared, without a trace, Joe. You left a damn DNA sample in my desk, and disappeared. I thought you were going to hunt for - for Shelburne."
"That's exactly what I've been doing," Joe said. "And in the process, I found out that Garrison had crawled out from under a rock and was trying to get the Shelburne project back into the Navy's program. I visited him in the burn center . . . convinced him to give up your location."
"Wait, we were told this was a joint SAD/CIA sanctioned mission," Catherine said. "I was sent here officially, to represent Naval Intel, and make sure they didn't overstep their authority. This project is strictly limited to developing a vaccine and cure for this virus. It wiped out a Navy hospital ship sent on a humanitarian mission."
"And there's more, isn't there," Joe said, studying Catherine intensely. "They've tried to do more."
"Yeah," Steve said, "They wanted to do MRIs . . . study the part of her brain that was damaged during that seizure at the mountain house, before . . . before Shelburne took her."
"You've managed to hold them off?" Joe asked.
"Damn straight," Steve said.
"Good," Joe said, relieved. "I'll explain more later. How's Riley?"
Steve hesitated, then motioned Joe to the observation room. They watched the monitor anxiously, as Dr. York entered, in full hazmat gear. Her muffled voice came over the speaker.
"Riley, you said you felt like your nose was bleeding?" she asked.
Riley nodded. "That's how it happens, right? When the virus spreads, it's because people start bleeding. And get violent. That's why Jerry's friends call it a zombie virus. Those poor scientists . . . you let them die just to set a trap to catch me. You people are insane."
Dr. York ignored her comments and picked up an otoscope. "I'm going to look in your nose, ears, and throat," she said. "Based on our research, you shouldn't be this susceptible to the virus. I think you're just imagining the bleeding."
Riley fidgeted as Dr. York checked carefully, her hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets.
"Hold still," Dr. York demanded.
"She's hurting her," Steve said through gritted teeth. He turned on the hapless audio visual technician managing the equipment. "Get me some hazmat gear," he barked.
"Sir, I - okay," the startled young man said, and dashed quickly from the room.
"Didn't think you'd let a little virus keep you from her," Joe said.
"Not my call - Riley was distraught, wanted me and Catherine out of the room," Steve said. "I promised her I wouldn't come back in without gear."
"I didn't," Joe said, shrugging. Before Steve or Catherine could react, he had disappeared around the corner of the room, and then they saw him on the monitor.
"Sir you really shouldn't -" Dr. York started.
"Yeah, I've done a lot of things I shouldn't have," Joe drawled. "Add this to the list. Hello, sweetheart. Is this doctor hurting you?"
Riley stared up at him, her eyes glassy with fever. "I'm hallucinating," she whispered, looking at Dr. York.
"No, there's a very foolish and very grumpy person standing in the room," Dr. York said, exasperated. "And I'm not hurting her. I'm trying to determine if she's bleeding."
Joe slipped around to the other side of the bed and took Riley's hand in his, as Catherine and Steve watched in disbelief.
"Hold still just a minute, then, honey, and let her finish," Joe said gently. "I know you're in a world of hurt, and I'm sorry."
"Nothing I can't handle," Riley said. "This is what you trained me for. I can deal with it. I just don't want anyone else to get sick." She stopped, looking up at Dr. York. "Well. I don't want innocent people to get sick."
Dr. York shook her head. "There's absolutely no sign of bleeding, Riley. It was a false alarm."
"I don't trust you," Riley said. "You'd say that, and let Steve and Catherine be exposed. You'd use them against me, use them to try to get me to cooperate with you."
Joe chuckled darkly. "They probably would," he said. "But they can't, now. They all answer to me now, and I'm not going to let them do that."
In the adjoining room, Catherine wrapped her hand around Steve's arm, looking up at him in confusion. He shook his head, with no answers to offer.
"Allow me to introduce myself," Joe said, pulling himself up to tower over Dr. York. "Commander Joe White, US Navy. And the new director of the Shelburne program. As of right now, you, Dr. Huntington, and every person in this facility answers to me."
"Son of a bitch," Steve whispered, his eyes going wide in shock.
"I believe you need to collect a sample, to test for antibodies," Joe said calmly. "Do that, and get out. Lieutenant Rollins will supervise the lab testing." He looked straight into the camera, angled from the ceiling toward Riley's bed. "I have some explaining to do."
#*#*#*#*#
Dr. York was still hovering around when Steve strode back into Riley's room.
"You have your sample," Steve demanded. "What are you still doing here?"
"Fascinating," Dr. York murmured. "I would have thought she could have brought this place down in her fear induced rage. But she's just . . . sitting there. It's possible that the virus has incapacitated -"
"She's in shock, you absolute imbecile," Steve gritted out. "But you want to see rage, stick around, wasting time, treating her like a lab rat. Get out. Let me talk to your new boss."
Dr. York made a wise retreat, and Steve whirled on Joe. "What the hell, Joe? You sell us out? What about all your talk of keeping your promise to my father, protecting us? Just a line of bullshit?"
Riley flinched at the anger in Steve's voice. Joe said nothing, as he pulled a small device out of his pocket and aimed it at the surveillance camera. He pushed a button, and the lights on the camera disappeared.
"Riley," Steve said, "I'm not going to let him take you away. I swear to God, he will have to come through me, and I will tear this place to the ground."
"No one is taking Riley," Joe said quietly. "Please, hear me out."
Steve glanced at Riley. She was pale and trembling, her eyes still glassy with fever and pain. He reined in his anger and took a deep breath, then moved to the sink to dampen another cloth from the stack on the counter. Sitting next to Riley, he wrapped one hand comfortingly around her arm, and dabbed at her face with the cloth.
"Talk," he said, not sparing Joe a glance.
"I've been all over the globe, trying to track down anyone or anything from that bunker," Joe said.
"You were trying to find Olivia," Riley whispered. "Shelburne."
"Yes," Joe nodded. "I haven't found her. But I got a lead on Garrison, and I found him. When I did, of course, I discovered that he was pulling the strings, calling the shots, and that he'd somehow convinced the Navy to go along with his scheme to use Riley to try to find antibodies for this virus."
"Obviously, the Navy agreed," Steve said. "Catherine's CO said it was sanctioned. Sent her to keep them honest."
"Yes," Joe said. "But I knew they wouldn't stop there."
"They'll never stop," Riley whispered. "They're going to take me away again."
"Shh," Steve soothed. "I'm not going to let that happen."
"There is a new faction. Completely unsanctioned; no one knows who's at the top, but the CIA and the SAD have disavowed all knowledge or participation," Joe said. "You've heard of The Committee?"
Steve's head shot up. "I thought it was urban legend."
"No," Joe said. "This is a similar group. They are known as The Elders. We're not sure if that's a self-designation or if it started with our people needing a designation. Whatever - it's stuck."
"These . . . Elders - they want Riley," Steve said. "Garrison?"
"Yes. Ostensibly, he was working for the SAD, but he, ah, informed me that he was, in fact, part of The Elders," Joe said. "A double agent, for lack of a better term."
"Informed you?" Steve asked quietly. "Under duress?"
"I did what I needed to do to protect Riley," Joe said. "Garrison is no longer an issue. He will live out the rest of his miserable life comfortably sedated and never again in contact with the outside world. The rest of these idiots are pawns."
"The virus?" Steve demanded.
"Unfortunately, a legitimate concern," Joe said. "Everything they've said about the virus is true. But its existence played perfectly into their hand. We do desperately need antibodies, or it's going to continue to spread and kill thousands of innocent people."
"I want to help," Riley said, her voice weak but insistent. "With that part."
"And you are," Joe assured her, his voice impossibly gentle. He pulled up another rolling stool and sat on the opposite side of the bed from Steve. "What hurts, sweetheart? What can we do?"
"I can handle it," Riley insisted again, clenching her jaw stubbornly. "Just like you taught me. Pain is a state of mind. I . . . I've let myself get weak, I've let my guard down, but I can do better, I can -"
Steve's eyes flashed angrily at Joe. "Your handiwork, Joe. She told me about the fall. The dislocated shoulder and hip . . . about Frank taking her to the monks when you wouldn't."
"I thought I was doing the right thing," Joe said. "Would she have been able to survive what happened in that bunker, if I hadn't taught her?"
"Would she have been in that bunker, in the first place, if you hadn't aided and abetted this god-forsaken Shelburne project?" Steve spat. "If you'd brought her to me, let me protect her, instead of turning her into -" He broke off at the stricken look in Riley's eyes.
"Riley, I didn't mean -" he said softly. "I just wish Joe had brought you to me, years ago. I wish none of this had ever happened to you. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I would have come for you."
"It's different now, Riley," Joe said. "Steve is here to protect you, and I managed to get myself named head of the project so that I could protect you both."
"What is your new objective?" Riley asked. Her eyes were blinking slowly as she fought to stay coherent. "What's the objective of the Shelburne project now? What do you want? What will you do with me?" Her voice broke, and tears slipped out of her eyes, tracking down to disappear in the waves of sandy brown hair spread on the pillow.
"No, Riley, it's not like that," Joe insisted. "The objective of the Shelburne Project is simple: to protect you from people like WoFat, and The Elders. No more testing. No more experimentation. We have one objective, and that is to keep you from falling into the wrong hands."
"I don't want to be in anyone's hands," Riley said weakly. "I don't want to be a weapon, or a lab rat, or a bargaining chip. Can't I just go back to Frank? To the monks? Please?"
"Riley, you'd be too exposed," Joe said.
She looked at Steve, pleading.
"You'd endanger Frank and the monks," Joe said.
She sobbed weakly, her eyes closing even as she fought to stay conscious, and then she was quiet and still.
"Riley?" Steve patted her cheek, but there was no response. "Riley?!"
Dr. York and Catherine rushed in at the same time.
"We have good news," Dr. York said, "there are antibodies present in her blood. She's done what no one else has been able to do - she's successfully fighting the virus. In about six hours, we should have a strong enough concentration to develop a cure and a vaccine."
"She just lost consciousness," Steve said. "I don't give a damn about the antibodies, do something for her."
"She's probably much more comfortable now," Dr. York said. She was pragmatic to the core.
"You're an excellent scientist but a horrible human being," Catherine snapped. "She's unconscious. Is she okay?"
Dr. York bustled around, taking Riley's vitals and checking her temperature.
"Fever is almost to one hundred five," she said, almost cheerful. "For anyone else, that would be incredibly dangerous, but her body, as you know, can withstand more than the average human. She should be just fine. This is how she's able to fight off the virus when the rest of us can't. It's the fever that will kill the virus, along with the antibodies. This is completely successful."
"One-oh-five," Catherine murmured in disbelief. "Surely, then, she's -"
"Oh, yes, incredibly uncomfortable," Dr. York said. "Extreme joint and muscle pain, swelling of the mucous membranes, due to dehydration - that's probably why she had the sensation of bleeding. But no actual damage. It's remarkable."
Steve had her by the lapels of her crisp white lab jacket, pressed against the wall, with his forearm at her throat, before Catherine or even Joe could react.
"Do. Something. For. Her," he growled. "You're getting your damn antibodies. Give her something for the pain."
"Excuse me, but she's the one that refused pain medication," Dr. York whined. "That wasn't my idea."
"She's no longer able to give or withhold consent, and I'm saying, give her something," Steve said. "Are we clear?"
Dr. York sniffed haughtily as Steve lowered her back to the floor. She looked at Joe.
"In matters of personal medical decisions, Commander McGarrett has full authority," Joe said. "He is Riley's next of kin and medical proxy. Do as he says."
"Fine," Dr. York huffed. "I'll send a nurse in with Demerol. I was never supposed to have to deal with patient care, anyway. I'm going back to the lab." She left the room, her lab coat fluttering behind her.
"Unbelievable," Steve muttered, turning his attention back to Riley. "Honey, can you hear me? You're going to be fine. You're beating this virus."
Riley moaned softly, turning her head from side to side. Her eyes fluttered open, wild and unfocused, and fell on Joe.
"Did I fail again?" she whispered. "Did I fall?"
"No, sweetheart," Joe said, his voice choked. "No, you never failed. Never. I'm the person that failed. Hold on. Steve is going to see that you get something to help with the pain, and then you're going to feel better, and then you'll get better. You didn't fall, you're sick."
"Olivia said natural antibodies were the best and that it was okay . . . I got to go play with the little girl. I didn't usually get to play but . . . she was sick. Olivia said I could . . . could share my coloring book and cheer her up," Riley mumbled. "I got sick, too, but it was okay. Olivia gave me tea. I did watercolors and . . . then I couldn't, anymore, for awhile, I couldn't . . . hold the brush. I got better."
Catherine gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, as her eyes filled with tears. "Riley," she whispered.
"I wanted to go back to play with the little girl," Riley muttered. "Couldn't. Olivia said no. Said . . . she wasn't there anymore. I think maybe . . . maybe she died."
Steve turned to Joe in disbelief. "Our mother . . . exposed her to childhood diseases, instead of vaccinating her?"
"Vaccines are tracked," Joe said. "Doris would have kept her as far off the grid as possible."
"Plus, the program wanted to see if their DNA enhancements worked," Steve said coldly. "Right?"
Joe nodded silently. "Probably. I wasn't read in at that point. I'm in a position now, Steve, that I can get you answers. You have to believe that's why I'm doing this."
"I don't have to believe anything," Steve said, as Riley's breath caught in another moan. "Where's the pain, honey? What can we do?"
Catherine marched to the door of the room. "I'm finding that damn nurse," she said.
"I don't like this," Riley whispered, looking at Steve. "I don't want to be here."
"I know," Steve said, pressing another cool cloth against her cheek. "Where would you like to be? Hmm? Let's imagine it. Close your eyes and picture it. Where would you like to go?"
She closed her eyes obediently, leaning her head into his hand. "I want to go back to the monks," she whispered. "They can make the pain go away."
"Maybe we could go for a visit, sometime soon," Steve suggested. "I don't think I can get you there until you're much better, though. What about the mountain house? Would you like to go there?"
She nodded, wincing. "I like it there," she murmured. "We can go?"
"Soon as you get out of here," Steve promised. "We'll take you there to recover."
"I heal fast," Riley said. "Even before . . . even without the nanobytes. I can go back to work. There's work. I'm working on . . . there's a database, and I'm not done. Something's wrong with my computer. It's watching me."
Joe looked up at Steve, alarmed. "What's she talking about?"
"I have no idea," Steve said. "She's delirious. But there was something, on her computer, that spooked her the other day. Charlie brought it to my attention. Jerry checked it out, found a sophisticated but harmless virus."
"Send word to have that computer destroyed," Joe said quietly. "Immediately."
Steve looked at him for a moment, and then nodded slowly. "Okay, Joe." He pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Charlie Fong. "It's done."
"No argument? No demand for explanation?" Joe asked.
"Not right now," Steve said, rubbing his hand over his face. "I'm exhausted, and I'm worried. If there's a chance there's something wrong . . . so was it you? Were you bugging Riley's computer?"
"No," Joe said. "No, and that's what scares me."
Catherine came back in, nuding a nurse in front of her. "Tell them," she demanded.
"I was told not to administer the pain medication until the surveillance camera was turned back on," the nurse said.
Steve swore softly and shook his head in disgust. "Where's the bastard that -"
"Steve," Joe said, putting a hand on Steve's arm. Steve looked down, absently tracking the evidence of at least two of Joe's fingers having been broken, and poorly healed. "Let me deal with it. You focus on Riley."
Steve nodded and held out his hand to the nurse. "Give it to me. Get out."
She complied, scurrying out of the room after Joe. Steve started to inject the contents of the syringe into Riley's IV, but to his dismay, his hands were shaking.
"Tell me how to do it," Catherine murmured, her small hands resting on his, calming him. She took the syringe and uncapped it.
"Flick it, remove any air bubbles," he said, "force a couple drops out of the needle, then just put it - yep, there you go - and press the plunger."
Catherine finished easily, recapping the needle and disposing of it in the sharps container. She wrapped her arms around Steve and nudged him to the stool next to Riley's bed.
"What if we can't trust him, Catherine?" Steve whispered.
"I called my CO while I was in the lab, watching the blood test," Catherine said. "He's confirmed it. Commander White is operating under the authority of US Naval Intelligence and the Special Activities Division. First thing he did was to completely seal all of Riley's records. No one can access anything - including her medical records - without Joe's personal approval. Anyone who tries to access her records . . . it's flagged to come to both Joe's attention and yours. I don't know what his motives are, but he's telling the truth." She stood behind Steve and rubbed his neck, her thumbs pressing on the knots of tension.
"Our mother deliberately exposed her to God knows what as a child," Steve said. "Joe let her sustain who knows how many injuries - some of which he inflicted himself. WoFat waterboarded her. Then our mother got her hands on her again . . . you heard what Rebecca described. Nothing short of torture. And now this . . ."
"This is nothing, comparatively," Catherine said. "She'll get through this, Steve. I think the worst is over. They were saying that the next two blood samples should give them everything they need. She's getting better; her body is fighting off the virus."
"It's not just her body I'm worried about," Steve said. "How much can she take, Catherine? Not just physically."
"I don't know, Steve," Catherine said. "How about you? I'm worried about you - no, don't wave me off. I can't imagine how you're dealing with this."
"I don't think I could, not without you," Steve said. "Thank you for coming, Catherine. It was a huge risk."
"No place I'd rather be," Catherine said, kissing him on the cheek.
Riley stirred, her eyes fluttering open and focusing tiredly on Steve.
"You let them give me drugs," she said, frowning. "I don't . . . what if I get confused . . . I can't -"
"Shh," Steve said, turning her arm over and stroking his fingertips over the scar. "I've got you, Riley. You're going to start getting better now. Your fever was so high, we had to give you something. Just rest."
"You . . . need to rest," Riley said, her eyes closing again. "Look like . . . shit."
Steve chuckled. "Okay, in a little bit," he said.
"Joe . . . furious," Riley said. "Dr. Huntington . . . Dr. York . . . never work for the Navy or the SAD again."
"How do you know?" Catherine asked.
"Hear them?" Riley said, blinking up at her. "Oh, you can't. I can. Down the hall. Frank . . . told Joe, watch the language around me. Funny, because Frank . . ." she trailed off.
"What about Frank, honey?" Steve prompted.
"He's here?" Riley asked.
"No," Steve said, smiling at her fondly. "You feeling any better?"
"Yeah," she said, blinking at him. "Do I have nanobytes again?"
"No, you have Demerol," Steve said. "Why don't you close your eyes, try to sleep?"
"Okay," she mumbled. "You sleep, too. And Catherine. Sleep. Don' worry 'bout me. M'fine. Joe . . . Joe says they have to stay away from me. They're scared of him now."
"I bet," Steve said, chuckling.
Riley's eyes opened once more. "They're scared of me, too," she whispered, then closed her eyes and fell soundly asleep.
#*#*#*#*#
Charlie Fong paced in Kono's office.
"No, he didn't really give an explanation," he said. "McGarrett just sent the text message." He held the phone out for Kono to read it.
"Destroy Riley's laptop, explain later," Kono read. "Wow. So, did you destroy it?"
"Of course," he said. "Took a sledgehammer to it myself, then sealed it and autoclaved it. It's toast. Literally."
"What's toast?" Danny asked, poking his head in Kono's office.
"Riley's laptop," Kono informed him. "Steve sent Charlie a text message, telling him to destroy it. Said he'd explain later."
"Well, Charlie might just get that explanation," Danny said, waving his phone at them. "It's been twenty-four hours since Riley's been deemed no longer contagious. They're taking her to the mountain house to recover. We're all invited to go up for a short visit, and deliver Rebecca. Steve's worked out approval for her to accept two weeks private duty nursing for Riley."
Charlie sighed. "Tell her hello for me," he said.
"You kidding? I've been instructed to bring you specifically," Danny said, grinning.
"Seriously?" Charlie asked, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Yeah, he admitted that it about damn near killed him to do it, but Steve told me to keep you in the loop and bring you with us," Danny said.
"Has . . . has Riley asked for me to come?" Charlie asked, ducking his head.
"I don't think Riley's asked for much of anything," Danny said. "From what Steve described, she's in rough shape. I can tell he's worried about her. He's hoping that seeing the team will . . . cheer her up, I guess. He also says we need to be briefed on some developments - says the mountain house is the best place to do that. Apparently, we're to be prepared for a bit of a shock."
#*#*#*#*#
"You're sure you can land the helo up there?" Steve asked, grinning at Joe.
"Please, who taught you everything you know?" Joe asked, grinning back at him.
For a moment, Steve was transported back to Coronado, stationed briefly after a few successful SEAL missions, sharing beers with Joe - no longer as instructor and student, but as equals. Steve studied him now, as they stood in the hall, waiting for the nurses to finish helping Riley bathe and dress, under Catherine's careful supervision. Joe had aged in the months since he'd disappeared. His hair was grayer, his face thin to the point of gauntness. Steve had observed two more scars in addition on the one on his forearm, and the obviously broken fingers. But Joe's eyes had a brightness to them now, a new purpose, and he'd lost some of the haunted look that Steve had last seen.
"We're going to have some serious talks," Steve said, looking pointedly at Joe's recent injuries. "And you're going to take care of yourself, too. Riley's not the only one that needs some R&R."
"Lot of that going around," Joe said, raising his eyebrows at Steve. "You've got circles under your eyes like I've not seen since that mission in Kabul. And I'm pretty sure you're sporting some gray hair that you didn't have the last time I saw you. Hell, even Catherine looks a little worn down, and that's saying something. She needs some decent rest and more than a few good meals."
"She's worn herself thin holding me together," Steve said quietly.
"I know, son, that's why I called her CO and worked out the details for her position as Naval Intel liaison to be extended at least two weeks," Joe said, smirking at Steve. "She needs to be fully briefed on this new faction anyway, and I'd rather do it away from Pearl. Plus, I figure the two of you deserve some time together, after this."
On the other side of the door, Catherine gently helped Riley ease her arms through a Navy issue sweatshirt.
"You'll start feeling better at the mountain house, I'm sure," Catherine said softly, brushing Riley's hair away from her face.
"So will you," Riley said, trying to summon a smile.
"Oh, I'll have to go back to Pearl, I'm sure," Catherine said.
"Nope," Riley said. "Joe wants you with us. He's cleared it. Just told Steve. Sorry, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. They aren't being quiet, and I'm too tired to try to not listen."
Steve and Joe returned to the room as the nurses left.
"Catherine, I spoke with your CO-" Joe started to say.
"I'll be delighted to join you," Catherine said, winking at Riley.
Steve shook his head and pretended to frown at Riley, but she was looking happier than he'd seen her since her fever broke, and he felt a sense of relief.
"What am I gonna do with you?" he asked, cupping his hand around her frighteningly pale cheek.
"I'm thinking a white noise machine would be a really, really good idea," Riley said, "especially since Catherine is coming with."
Joe laughed with them, as he watched Riley carefully, noting that her smile was forced, and didn't reach her eyes - her eyes, which looked just like Steve's.
Their mother's eyes.