A/N — the first installment of my season 5 fix-it, which I originally wrote in November 2021, presented basically as-is. In order to ensure accuracy, I would need to watch season 5 again. But since I hate everything about season 5 (with the exception of Maddie and Pablo) and find myself wanting to smash my computer every time I try to watch it again, that will not be happening. The conundrum is that I still feel compelled to do something with the mess that the show made of my OTP. So, yeah, you're getting this. Feel free to tell me anything that I messed up in a review and I will correct the errors if it is possible to do so without driving my blood pressure through the roof. Trigger warnings for discussions of pandemics, death, mass graves, and murder. xoxo — kals

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Setting: New London, Connecticut

Timing: two years after the end of season 4

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"I wanted to be there," Kara said, her frustration coming across the screen clearly despite her face remaining impassive. Her captain face, as Danny mentally termed it. "This is the third time that the cruise has been extended. We were supposed to be home two weeks ago."

"Such is life as the captain of the Nathan James," Danny retorted, aiming for teasing. From the way that the corner of Kara's eyes tightened, he hadn't quite pulled it off.

Her voice dropped. "You don't have to do this alone, Danny. You could wait. We'll need to refuel by next week, and then I should have some time off."

Maybe.

Under President Oliver, that likely would have been true. Following the recovery of the palms seeds, the government's focus was on engineering a way to add the palm plants' immunity to other crops and end the famine. Upon reaching the States, Kara had been assigned to Mayport Command, handling training and communications, resulting in her being home most nights for almost a year. Once Danny was through the worst of his recovery, accepting a discharge and moving to contractor status, they had settled down into the kind of domesticity that Danny never imagined was possible. Even more surprising, he enjoyed the time out of the field, the opportunity to settle into the kind of normal life that he remembered from his own childhood. But as content as they were, when Mike offered Kara the opportunity to captain the Nathan James, there had been no question about what her answer would be. Unfortunately, neither Kara nor Danny had been prepared for President Reiss to treat the Nathan James as his own private ship, resulting in almost constant deployments. Reiss liked to refer to the various cruises as diplomatic missions but, from where Danny was sitting, Reiss didn't want anyone else to forget that, when push came to shove, he controlled the ship that saved the world. Twice.

Funny how Danny never realized how hard it would be to be the one left at home.

Over the past seven months, Kara hadn't spent more than a week at home at a time. Still, Danny reminded himself, things were otherwise good. Frankie was past the toddler stage and had recently started a half-day program at the local school, requiring less of Danny's attention and given him some time to consider his next steps. He was doing a bit of contracting for Sasha, but there was an opening in the Mayport police department that Danny was eyeing. Of course, first he needed to get past today's task.

Then he would leave the past in the past.

"Danny?" This time Kara wasn't pretending to hide her concern.

"Sorry, I thought that I heard someone knock," Danny fibbed, glancing up at the bland walls of his hotel room.

Although she hadn't commented, Kara must have noticed that he wasn't staying at his parents' house, the house where he and Zack grew up, and where his entire family died. He had been back there exactly once since the cruise to the Arctic — and even then, he hadn't gone inside. Instead, he waited outside, staring at the red X on the side of the house, until Tex and Burk reappeared. When Tex suggested they check out the local hospital next, Danny had known everything that he needed to know. The hospital merely provided confirmation: his entire family was gone. Mom, Dad, brother Zack, sister-in-law Mandy, and both nieces. The only new information that Danny learned from the hospital was that his family had been buried in one of a dozen mass graves dug during the height of the pandemic — along with half the population from the town where he grew up. Nobody knew which grave held the Green family.

Not, anyway, until now. Because four years after the virus originally hit the area, a small group of survivors had prevailed upon the State of Connecticut to open the graves with the intention of identifying the remains and providing them with a proper burial. Initially, the group had tried to convince Danny to join their efforts, peppering him with requests to use his status as a member of the Nathan James' crew to help their cause. His response to their entreaty that finding the bodies would provide closure — I know that they're dead, I don't need a body to prove it — had convinced both sides that they were not on the same page.

Danny still felt the same way. This wasn't a situation like Mike faced, one where there had been no official confirmation of his family's loss. Danny knew that his family was dead. He had seen the records, in black and white, and even talked to a few survivors who told him how quickly the virus hit Salem, his hometown, given its proximity to New York City. Initially, Danny didn't even plan to come now. He was happy with his life — there was no reason to reopen old wounds. But then he thought about the bodies being exhumed and not claimed. It wasn't so much about his parents, or even his brother and sister-in-law, but about the girls. Chloe and Evelyn. Nine and twelve. Barely older than Frankie.

Babies.

Danny couldn't bring himself to let their bodies sit, unclaimed, as though nobody had loved them. So, he was here to claim them and provide them with a proper burial. Then, once that was done, he would go back to his life with a clear conscience and no nagging voice in the back of his head.

Focusing his attention back on his wife, Danny took a deep breath. Kara knew him too well to be brushed off with a few reassurances. He leaned back, arms folding across his chest. "I've known that they were dead for the last five years. Retrieving their bodies is a formality. Still, being back here ..."

Her mask cracking, Kara bit down on her lip. "It brings back memories."

Relieved that he didn't need to explain the overwhelming sense of wrongness that hit him the moment he arrived in Connecticut late last night, not that different from the feeling he got just before a mission went FUBAR, Danny nodded. "Yes."

"You're doing the right thing, Danny," Kara said, her voice steady. "I know you feel that this is just a formality but it's an important one. This is a way that you can honor your family." She hesitated. "Maybe we can plan a memorial for when I'm home."

"There's nobody left to come." The words were out of Danny's mouth before he thought and, while true, he hadn't meant to say them aloud.

Again, Kara nibbled on her lip. "I'm sure some of the crew would come. Or we could go back to Connecticut and have the service there."

Different location, same problem.

This time, at least, Danny didn't say the words aloud. He shook his head. "No. I'm here already and there's no reason to wait. I'll head to Salem today. It's only thirty minutes from here. Assuming all goes as planned, I should be back in Mayport the day after tomorrow."

Kara opened her mouth, but then her eyes lifted over the screen, and Danny knew that someone had knocked on her door. Her eyes refocused on him, but she was distracted, her mind already shifting to whatever was happening on the Nathan James. He tamped down his irritation.

Was fifteen minutes a day talking to his wife too much to ask?

But none of that was Kara's fault. "Stop worrying, Kara."

Still, she hesitated. She lifted a hand, as though she could reach through the screen to touch him. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, before hitting the button to disconnect.

He stood, hesitating slightly before stepping into the parking lot of the small motel and locking the door behind him.

Waiting wasn't going to change anything.