CHAPTER 24

Monday afternoon, 1404 Piikoi Street:

"How on earth did we miss this?" Danny asked for what felt like the thirtieth time since discovering the identity of Steve's abductor.

As soon as he'd seen the address listed for their suspect, he had nearly blown a gasket. She literally lived down the street from the McGarrett house.

"No idea," Kono muttered.

He was standing in front of the unassuming house with Chin and Kono. Nothing about the dwelling screamed 'a stalker lives here'. It was small, neat and looked cosy. There was even a small garden bed lining the pathway up to the door and large, gleaming windows.

The drive to Piikoi street had felt slow despite the constant pressure on the accelerator pedal. Danny did not know what to expect when arriving at the address, but this was not it. It just seemed so…normal.

He instinctively knew that Steve would not be here; that would have been too easy. He held out hope, however, that something inside this house would give them the information they needed to find their missing friend. He just prayed they weren't too late.

Pushing that thought aside, he turned to the cousins. Like him, they were adjusting their vests and checking their ammunition supply. There was still a chance that Steve was inside, even if they all knew that was just false hope. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Ready?" Danny asked and the cousins nodded.

They walked up the footpath to the front door and Danny knocked loudly. "Rebecca Marsden! Five-0! Open up!"

There was no response, not even the sound of movement inside. Danny glanced behind him and saw the stern looks on the cousin's faces; they were ready. He held up a hand and silently counted down before turning and slamming his leg backwards, forcing the door open.

He followed the cousins inside and watched as they veered off into various rooms. He moved towards the rear of the house and came up empty.

"Clear!" he called.

"Clear!" he heard Chin's voice from the front of the house.

"Clear!" Kono called a moment later.

Danny breathed a sighed of mixed relief and frustration. There was no sign of the suspect or Steve. In fact, there was no evidence that anyone had lived in the house for at least a few weeks. A thick layer of dust covered most surfaces and the rooms were had a musty smell to them.

He exited the laundry and moved to join Chin in the hallway as he holstered his weapon. His own disappointment was mirrored on Chin's face.

"Hey guys? I think you should see this!"

Danny glanced at Chin before moving in the direction of Kono's voice. They entered what they guessed was the master bedroom and found Kono standing beside the open closet. Any doubt that Marsden was responsible for McGarrett's disappearance evaporated as soon as Danny laid his eyes on what Kono had discovered.

The walls of the closet was covered with news articles and pictures. Lots of pictures. Of Steve. Just Steve. Danny's stomach churned when he realised just how close this woman had been to his partner.

There were photos of Steve at home, emerging from the beach. At work, in front of the Iolani Palace, at crime scenes. At the park that he often took Grace. At Kamekona's Shrimp Truck. The news clippings detailed a few of Five-0's more high-profile cases; Steve's name was highlighted in all of them. Some articles even dated back to his high school days and his football achievements.

Danny gulped loudly when he saw one particular photo that stood out to him. It had to have been taken mere weeks ago. Danny only knew that because he was also in the photo - a big red cross drawn over his face.

"That's how she knew," he muttered to himself. "She was there!"

"How she knew what?" Chin asked, clearly confused.

Danny grabbed the photo and pulled it off the wall. It was of him and Steve at Kai Coffee, the day Steve told him he was ready to return to work. It was all starting to come together. "She was watching us that day."

"What?" Kono gasped.

Danny showed the cousins the picture. "Remember the roses that appeared the same day Steve returned to work?"

"Yeah?" Chin said as he studied the photograph, not understanding what Danny was getting at.

"Steve told me the day before that he was coming back to work. We went to get coffee while you two were finishing up interviews. She must have overheard our conversation. You remember how uneasy he looked when he read the card."

"And we didn't want to believe anything was wrong," Kono added, her voice small. "He kept insisting it was a joke, a prank."

Danny glanced over all the other photos as reality sunk in. It was evident that Marsden was obsessed with his partner and had been for a long time.

He understood the guilt Kono felt because he felt the same emotion. He could have taken the threat more seriously, forced Steve to have protection. But he just let Steve do what he always did. Fend for himself.

"It's not like we could have done anything anyway, Kono. The idiot didn't want to worry us, especially after everything that happened. This is not anyone's fault except Marsden's," Danny assured Kono.

"Danny's right. We can blame ourselves, or we can find Steve," Chin added.

"And how do you propose we do that? All I see here are photos, but nothing that can tell us where Steve is right now," Kono snapped back.

Tensions were high. Danny knew one of them would crack under the pressure soon enough. He knew Kono still blamed herself for Ortiz's escape and she was just as desperate as the rest of them to find a lead to Steve's location.

"No, you're right," Chin answered, his voice shaking slightly. He sounded like he was on the verge of breaking down too. "However, we do have more than we did before. Now that we know who she is, we can dig into her background. We will find something that will lead us to her current location. We treat this like any other case."

"But this is not just any case!" Kono retorted.

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?!" Chin yelled.

The room became suddenly quiet at Chin's outburst. The usually unflappable man was breathing hard, his eyes burning with a rage never before seen in those deep brown irises. Chin took a deep, stuttering breath before muttering out an apology and abruptly exiting the house. Kono appeared dumbfounded as her eyes watched her cousin retreat.

Kono looked like she wanted to follow him but Danny grabbed her arm and shook his head. "No. Let him go. He needed to get that off his chest."

Danny understood Chin's outburst. They'd all been burying their emotions in order to focus on what mattered; finding Steve. Through the whole ordeal, Chin had remained calm and focused on the evidence instead of his feelings. But everyone, even someone as strong as Chin, had a breaking point.

It was hard for Chin. Steve was not just his boss, but his old partner's son. He was family, part of the sacred Ohana Chin had feared lost when he was accused of stealing money. Perhaps Chin felt he owed the McGarrett family. For guiding him through his first years as a rookie cop. For taking in the disgraced ex-cop and giving him a family and a purpose.

To have that family threatened over and over again…well, Danny understood why Chin had suddenly reached his limit.

Chin had been a rock since the Five-0 taskforce had been formed. In many ways, Chin was like Steve in his unwavering ability to put himself at the bottom of the list of people to take care of. There was only so much a man could take.

Now, he probably felt lost and alone.

Just like the rest of them.

Monday afternoon, unknown location:

He woke slowly. Initially, his eyes refused to cooperate with his demands to open. His mouth was dry and his body felt numb. The feeling reminded him of the first time he had ever drunk enough to be hungover. It was not an experience he was eager to relive.

When his eyes finally stayed open long enough for him to see, he realised that alcohol had nothing to do with his predicament. He groaned as he took in the small space that was his prison cell.

He tried to sit up, but swore when using his arms as levers caused him intense, rippling pain up his arms and across his chest. He ached all over and his body shook as he tried to breathe through the pain. Images came flooding in of his skin being torn to shreds and blood dripping from the deep lacerations.

Gritting his teeth, he levered himself painfully upright using a combination of core strength and his legs. A sudden wave of dizziness almost had him falling backwards, but he remained stubbornly upright and breathed through his tightly clenched teeth.

Once the dizziness passed, he chanced a look at his arms. His stomach leapt into his throat when he caught sight of the large bandages covering his injuries. Cautiously, he lifted the tape securing a white pad to his right arm and got his first look at the damage that had been inflicted.

Several stitched lacerations were visible. He briefly wondered why his injuries had been tended to when she seemed intent on causing him pain. He realised it didn't matter. By destroying his tattoos, she had effectively tainted the memories they represented and created new, haunting ones.

Ones that would forever be carved into his flesh as a constant reminder.

He secured the covering back over his wounds. With a pained grunt, he eased himself off the bed, holding his right arm protectively against his chest. He approached the door that prevented his escape and felt the tug of the chain on his leg. He barely had time to let the frustration bubbling inside him be released as the sound of the lock disengaging distracted him.

"Good morning McGarrett," that cocky voice was starting to get on his nerves. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine," Steve grumbled. He hated that he felt so shaky on his legs in front of this man. He blamed the blood loss. And the drugs.

"Just get on with it, Gaines," another voice muttered.

Steve looked behind the man called Gaines (information he catalogued for later) to the man that had spoken. It was the other fake doctor, the one Steve suspected wasn't as invested as the others.

"Keep your hair on, Ortiz," Gaines turned to the man behind him before turning back to Steve. "Now, McGarrett—"

"Commander McGarrett," Steve growled as he stared into steel-grey eyes.

Gaines shook his head. "Not here. Here you are just a man, nothing more. It would be wise to accept that if you want to get out of here unscathed," his lips curled upwards in an amused grin as his eyes flicked to Steve's arms. "Well, relatively speaking."

"Not going to happen."

"You're a smart man. I'm sure you've realised that playing along with her fantasy is the only way to stay alive. I feel it's imperative to remind you that my men and I are being paid make sure you do as you are told. That means accepting your new place and learning to enjoy yourself," Gaines said as he stepped closer.

"If you think it's so good, then why aren't you the one shackled to the bed?" Steve spat, his anger bubbling just under the surface.

Gaines grinned toothily. "Because I don't have your charming good looks or sparkling personality."

"That's a shame. Your face is fine but we'll definitely have to put a bag over that personality," Steve replied with a grin of his own.

Gaines' eyes darkened and his mouth twisted as he raised his fist, ready to strike. Steve knew he shouldn't have poked the bear, but he would not go down without a fight. He readied himself for the blow.

"Gaines!"

Ortiz's voice boomed in the small enclosed space, reminiscent of Steve's old drill sergeant. Gaines gave Steve one last burning glare before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. Ortiz stood by the door, unmoving as he passed.

With the greater threat removed from the situation, Steve relaxed minutely. He wouldn't ever let down his guard, but he could allow his muscles to release some of the tension that was currently pulling on his fresh wounds.

After a few moments of silence, Steve realised what it was about Ortiz that deemed him the lesser threat. He was slightly hunched over; the skin around his eyes was tight, like he'd been squinting for a long time.

Steve had seen that look before. "Broken ribs can be a nuisance. Who'd you pick on?"

Ortiz's eyes flicked over to him in surprise. "How'd you know?"

"You're military, or ex-military, right?"

Ortiz straightened his spine with a small wince but didn't move from his position. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Steve shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. So, how'd you hurt yourself?"

"None of your business," Ortiz spat. Defensive.

Steve sighed inwardly. Maybe he'd been wrong about this man; perhaps he wasn't the weak link. But something about the way the man's eyes softened had him rethinking that assumption in an instant. There was a sadness about him that Steve couldn't explain. Maybe that would be his ticket out of here. Play on his emotions, win him over.

"You really shouldn't antagonise her," Ortiz spoke softly.

Steve snorted. "Yeah, I figured that after she decided to paint a picture on my skin with a scalpel."

"Just cooperate with her, fake it if you have to."

"Speaking from experience?"

Steve was curious how this man had come to be involved. He didn't seem to feed on violence like Gaines did. Ortiz was more reserved, content to sit back and watch. As far as Steve knew, he'd never met Ortiz before. Therefore, his motivation was puzzling. Revenge? No. Money? Maybe.

"I saw what she did to those men. She killed them, right in front of me. There was no hesitation; she disposed of them like trash." Ortiz's eye twitched but Steve continued. "You know she's capable of doing the same to you. So why are you here? What does she have on you?"

Ortiz looked like he was about to respond but stopped when Gaines returned, a small green box in his hands. He passed the box to Ortiz before stepping into the doorway; a semi-automatic weapon in his hands where the box had been a second earlier.

Ortiz approached him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down onto the bed. "I'm just going to check your wounds."

"I don't need—"

"Yes, you do. Those wounds could easily become infected without treatment."

Steve grit his teeth as Ortiz teased the bandages from his arms. "Somehow, I don't think that matters to her. Despite what she believes, all she wants is to see me in pain. That's not love. That's insanity."

Ortiz rubbed antibiotic ointment onto Steve's wounds before covering them with fresh bandages. "I told her she couldn't change you. I sincerely hope you live long enough to take her down."

There was a bitterness in Ortiz's quiet tone that told Steve there was more to investigate there. Steve barely had time to progress that thought when Ortiz accidentally tugged on one of the stitches on his chest. Steve barely contained a hiss of pain when he realised how deep the cuts must have been to cause that kind of rippling pain.

"You almost done there, Ortiz?" Gaines called from the doorway. His eyes had never left the pair and neither had the gun.

"Almost," was the short reply.

As Ortiz rummaged through the first aid box, Steve evaluated his options. There were two of them and one of him - doable. He was still shackled to the bed and injured. And then there was the gun. The odds were not in his favour. Yet.

He knew he had to get word to his team. He had no idea how long he'd been gone but despite what Marsden had implied, he knew they would be looking for him. They always would.

Steve smiled to himself. He had no idea when it happened, but since returning to Hawaii after his father's murder and starting the taskforce, he had found a sense of fullness in his life. To know there were people he could depend on and trust…well, that meant everything to him.

He vowed there was no way he was going to let these people take that away from him. If that meant biding his time and playing along with Marsden's sick fantasy until either his team stormed in to rescue him or he found another opportunity to make a break for it, then so be it. It was a small price to pay.

"Keep smiling McGarrett," Gaines barked from his spot beside the door. "I would love to wipe it off your face with my fist!"

Steve had no idea what he'd done to make this man so angry. "You do that and I'm certain she'll shoot you on the spot!"

"That's enough Gaines!" Ortiz growled and Gaines bristled angrily at the order. Ortiz turned back to Steve. "Everything looks good, but I'm fairly certain your wrist is broken."

Steve looked down at his wrapped wrist and sighed. "Yeah, I figured."

"I've patched you up the best I can. My advice is to agree with everything she says and does. Less blood shed that way." Ortiz stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. "Put that on."

Steve caught the shirt thrown at him and winced when the movement pulled on his stitches. Carefully, he pulled the blue t-shirt over his head as Ortiz moved to unlock his ankle cuff.

"You know the drill, McGarrett. If you try anything, I'll put a bullet in you," Gaines announced.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," Steve muttered as he stood up, thankful that the dizziness from earlier had abated.

Steve was led from the room by Ortiz; Gaines was a steady presence behind them. As soon as he stepped outside, Steve breathed in the salty air. A not-so-gentle prod in his back had him moving forward at a brisk pace.

Judging by the position of the sun, Steve determined it was afternoon. On what day, he had no idea. He barely had time to get a basic map of the land in his head before he was ushered toward the house.

He was led inside and straight up the winding stairs. Instead of being brought out onto the balcony, he was escorted to a large space that was furnished with bookshelves and comfy-looking couches. Steve took note of the armed men in every corner of the room and quickly determined the man in the corner opposite him was the weakest link; his sidearm was still strapped into its holster. That would give him at least a two second advantage when the time came.

Steve was brought to one of the two-seater couches and forced to sit in it. The rough hands holding him suddenly left, only to be replaced with softer, colder ones. He instantly knew who those hands belonged to and tensed as Marsden's hands gently massaged his shoulders, somehow avoiding his wounds entirely.

"I'm sorry you were hurt, Steve." The false sweetness of her voice made him tense more. "How are you feeling after a couple of days rest?"

Days? How long had he been out?

"Fine," Steve answered.

"Okay. Make sure you tell me if there's anything that needs attention. I'm sure you understand now the consequences of not accepting your place here."

Steve was tempted to lash out, to show her that he was not someone she could use for her deluded affirmations. One harsh look from Ortiz reminded him to play along, no matter how insane he thought this was.

"I do," he ground out.

It went against everything ingrained in him to smile and pretend he enjoyed her touch. Her fingers strayed over his body, lingering in some places longer than others. He knew he had to pretend he was enthralled by her, but it was hard to do when her touch almost had him recoiling in disgust.

She leaned over his shoulder and kissed him on the lips while pressing down on his wounds. He resisted the urge to turn his head away from her while trying the repress his gag reflex.

She whispered in his ear, the warm air tickling his skin. "All you have to do is accept it. Allow yourself to feel as I do. Nothing else matters."

He hated that he was doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldn't. Submitting to her attempts to seduce him and conforming to her expectations. He resisted the burning urge to shove her cold hands off him and snap her neck.

"I want to, but…" he swallowed thickly, repulsed by what he was about to say.

Marsden hung on his every word. "But what?"

"I need time. Things are just moving a little fast."

She moved around the couch and sat next to him before snuggling into his side. "Then I will wait until you are ready. But you should know, I've never liked waiting."

'Neither have I,' Steve thought as a plan started to form in his mind.