CHAPTER 34

Thursday afternoon, McGarrett residence:

Danny tensed the moment Steve turned and gave him an intense stare and a barely-there nod. He'd been watching the scene taking place in front of him, waiting for Steve to give him some kind of clue.

Sure, he'd been angry when the selfless man had entered the house without a weapon but he later realised that was an intentional move. The sight of a weapon would have set Marsden off and Steve would have had no chance of ending this peacefully.

Initially, Danny had been confused by Steve's approach to Marsden's goading. He then realised the entire conversation was just a ploy for Steve to get close to Marsden. Danny noticed the small steps he'd been taking, putting himself between them and her. Stupid self-sacrificing idiot.

What occurred next was unexpected to say the least. At the same time as Marsden drew a gun, a black and white cat sprang from the top floor and landed right on Panda Eyes' back. It was like a scene from a cartoon; the goon dropped his gun as he wrestled with the large bulk that was suddenly weighing him down.

Danny took the distraction for what it was and made his move. He threw his already aching head back and collided with the henchman's gut. The movement caused Danny to lose balance and the chair (with him still attached) toppled backwards. The landing was anything but soft and he heard a distinct crack.

It took him a moment to realise the sound was the result of the chair breaking and not one of his bones. He finally registered that his hands were more or less free. A little wiggling and the ropes slid off his wrists.

He pulled his hands free from underneath his body and immediately ripped off the tape covering his mouth. He quickly got to work untying his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the beefy man bolt out the lanai doors, the cat following quite literally on his heels with a savage growl.

'Huh,' Danny thought. 'Never knew cats could growl.'


Chin drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Despite exuding an air of calm, inside his stomach was twisted in knots. He hated waiting.

He stopped when Kono huffed. "Sorry," he apologised.

"What?" Kono answered, distracted.

Chin realised she wasn't annoyed by his incessant tapping. She'd been intently watching the house, just like he had been.

"Never mind." He turned his mind back to the reason they were parked a block away from their boss' house. "What did Steve say the signal was again?"

Kono sighed. "He didn't."

Chin returned to staring out window, hoping he'd see something that meant Steve had the situation under control. Five minutes later, he got his wish.

"Is that…?" he trailed off as he watched the peculiar scene unfold.

"Yep," Kono replied with a smirk.

If he wasn't mistaken, the man running like his life depended on it had just exited McGarrett's house and was being chased by…a cat?

"Is that Steve's cat?" Chin asked, stunned.

"I don't think it's actually his, but yeah," Kono confirmed.

"Should we do something?" Chin asked as the cat latched onto the man's leg and he screamed unrepeatable obscenities while trying to shake the feline of his leg.

Kono sniggered. "Nah. I think the cat has it in hand. Let's go see if SuperSEAL needs a hand."

Chin chuckled and followed his cousin out of the car. "If McGarrett just defused a hostage situation with a cat for backup, we are all out of a job."

When the sound of a gunshot shattered the peace in the otherwise quiet neighbourhood, the cousins glanced at each other before sprinting towards McGarrett's house.


Ignoring the flying feline, Steve focused his attention on the bigger threat.

Marsden.

She stood before him, gun primed and ready. He was momentarily ashamed of himself for not spotting the weapon earlier but he'd been a bit preoccupied. He'd tried to communicate his plan to Danny as best he could while edging his way closer to Marsden.

The neighbour's cat had distracted Marsden enough for Steve to take those final steps forward but he had no idea if Danny had caught onto his plan and he didn't have time to look back to see if Gaines had been taken care of.

Ignoring the pain signals his body was sending him (a constant reminder of what this woman had done to him), he charged at her.

The raw hatred that had been roaring in his veins since his team had rescued him suddenly had an outlet. He took hold of her gun hand and pushed it towards the ground. With his good hand, he twisted her wrist, causing the gun to fall from her numb fingers. It clattered to the floor and he kicked it away.

She screamed furiously at the loss of her advantage and kicked out at him. Steve grunted as the kick landed in the meaty part of his thigh and pain rippled through his body. He felt his grip on her arm loosening and knew he couldn't hold her back much longer in his weakened state. Using the last of his strength, he pushed her into the wall, pinning her there with his body.

She struggled against him for a minute and then stopped suddenly. Steve looked up into her eyes and was surprised to find her grinning. He barely had time to prepare himself before she brought her leg up and pushed her knee against his abdomen.

The unexpected movement caused pain to radiate from his unprotected wounds and he lost his grip on her. He paused, panting for breath as the pain threatened to overwhelm him. That one moment of inaction allowed Marsden to reach the gun.

Everything slowed down and he watched as Marsden tensed her finger on the trigger. Only the weapon wasn't aimed at him. His eyes followed the trajectory of the gun and he saw red.

"NO!" he heard himself yell.

His body moved without his authority. No plan, just action. Just like Danny often accused him of. He surged forwards and felt more than heard the gun discharge. He hoped, prayed, that the bullet hadn't hit anyone.

Marsden's eyes widened before she turned on her heel and fled through the lanai doors. Without a second thought, Steve followed. There was no way she was getting away. Not this time.

By the time he reached the strip of beach behind his house, she had already made it several hundred meters down the sand to his right. Steve grinned; it was a dead end. There was a large cliff face that towered over the ocean and there was no way to reach the top without specialist equipment.

He slowed his pace as he proceeded to pursue her. She was disillusioned to think she could escape him.

The sun was starting to dip lower in the horizon, spreading a golden glow over the water and casting shadows over the beach. As he reached the alcove, he found Marsden pacing at the bottom of the ridge.

"No!" she screamed at the steep escarpment. "NO! NO! NO!"

Steve slowed to a stop. "It's over, Rebecca. There's nowhere left to go."

She turned around with a crazed look in her eyes. It was an expression he'd seen before on desperate criminal's faces moments before they did something dangerously stupid.

Marsden raised the gun and aimed at his midsection. Her hold on the gun was steady, unwavering.

Steve was amused by her action and took few steps towards her. "You're not going to shoot me."

Marsden didn't move a muscle as he approached.

"I just have one question for you," Steve said, keeping his tone casual. "Why?"

He didn't expect a response but was stunned when Marsden started smiling widely before she tossed the gun to the side. The sudden shift from frantic to calm and controlled was startling.

The sun sank low on the horizon and he raised his hand to shield his eyes. Marsden used his moment of preoccupation to strike. Steve sensed her moving and took a small step to the side. She ran right passed him and nearly stumbled over her own feet.

She spun around and growled as she pulled something from her pocket. A syringe!

Steve barely had time to prepare himself as she launched herself at him, the metal of the exposed needle glistening in the light. His only priority was ensuring she didn't stick him with the needle.

He grabbed at hand holding the syringe and forced it away from his body. Marsden responded by aiming a knee at his vulnerable abdomen. Steve twisted and felt the bony joint collide with his hip.

Steve drove his body into hers and the force pushed her a few meters away from him. He readied himself for another attack before he noticed that her hands were now empty. She must have dropped the syringe somewhere in the sand.

Marsden was distracted by the missing syringe. Steve used that to his advantage and incapacitated her with a running tackle into the sand. She writhed underneath his weight, shrieking loudly for him to get off, to leave her alone. She tried pushing him off, her hands bouncing uselessly off his chest as he held her down.

She cast terrified eyes at him. "You don't want to hurt me, Steve. I love you. Please don't do this."

Steve snorted in amusement. He felt no sympathy for the woman who had made his life hell. He placed his casted arm against her neck, effectively controlling her ability to breathe. Now, Steve was not a cruel man but he felt she deserved to feel the helplessness that he'd had to endure at her hands.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "It's not nearly as fun when you're the one squirming, is it?" He knew he'd hit a sore spot when she suddenly stopped struggling. "You could never change me. Every rose has a dark shadow. Now you've seen mine. It's over."

Her expression morphed from petrified into a sadistic grin. "Oh Steve. It will never be over. We are meant to be together and they won't keep us apart. I will always be a part of you. Remember?"

The adrenaline that had been holding him upright until this moment suddenly kicked into overdrive. He knew exactly what she was referring to. Images of the scars that would litter his body for the rest of his life came to the forefront of his mind. She was right; he'd never truly escape her.

"Someday, you will…realise I was…right and…you will thank me," she gasped as he increased the pressure on her throat.

He yanked her up by the collar of her shirt so her face was a few centimetres from his. "You want me to thank you?"

Steve was in complete disbelief. She'd tortured him, taken away his freedom and hurt the people he cared about most. When would it end? Every single memory came crashing down on him as the adrenaline continued coursing through his veins.

His primal instincts took over and he threw his clenched right fist into her face. Over and over again. He felt pain shoot up his arm as he repeatedly collided with her temple but figured it was penance for being weak.

His anger dissipated slowly and was replaced with sorrow. He never wanted anyone to get hurt. He didn't want his friends to die; more names added to the list of people he'd gotten killed. He didn't want to have to explain to their families that he was at fault. He just couldn't. Not again. Not like with Johnston.

Tears formed in his eyes at the thought of his old teammate, tortured to death by a man with no conscience because Steve refused to give up the source of their information. The droplets fell onto Marsden's face, mixing with the blood dribbling out of her nose.

His anger returned with a vengeance as he hungered for a reprieve from the pain she had caused him. She'd lied to him, drugged him, manipulated him.

He brought his hand up to strike strike but felt something, someone, holding him back.

"Steve?"

The timid voice had him looking up and he was met with concerned blue eyes. It took him a moment to register that it was Danny holding him.

"Danny?"

Danny looked terrible. His blond hair was sticking out in all directions and his mouth was red from where he'd evidently torn the duct tape off. But he was okay. Talking, breathing, moving.

Danny nodded. "I think she's had enough, babe."

Steve looked down at the woman who had tormented him and realised that she was unconscious. The sight of the blood marring her face filled him with an odd sense of righteousness.

"You good?"

Now that was a loaded question. One Steve had no idea how to answer. He'd wouldn't be 'good' until Marsden paid for her crimes.

Danny evidently took his silence as an invitation. "What the HELL is the matter with you?" Danny yelled.

Oh yeah, Danny was just fine.

"You barge in there, UNARMED, and just give me a nod, expecting me to understand whatever was going on inside that freaky brain of yours? Have you completely lost your mind? Did you even THINK to bring backup?"

Danny had a fuse. Everyone knew it. He ranted to show he cared. That didn't mean it was any less annoying. On a good day, Steve could handle his partner when he got this riled up. But today was not a good day and right now, his head couldn't take the shouting.

"I didn't have another option!" He wanted to yell back, to make Danny understand why he had to do it, but he just lacked the energy.

"There's ALWAYS another option!" Danny roared back, his hands flying through the air in a movement Steve couldn't follow in his exhausted state.

"No, Danny. There's not. Not when it's YOUR life at risk! You have Grace. She needs her Dad. I can't be the reason she grows up without her father!"

Danny looked back at him with a shell-shocked expression on his face. If Steve were anywhere else, he would have marked this day down as one of the very few times Detective Danny Williams had been struck speechless.

He heard sirens in the distance and the sound triggered something inside him.

"Cath!" he yelled as he scrambled to his feet, the argument with Danny forgotten for the moment.

He paused, torn between making sure Marsden stayed put and Catherine. Danny, however, took the choice out of his hands.

"Go. I'll make sure she doesn't go anywhere."

Steve hesitated, but at Danny's insistent nod, he took off back towards the house. He trusted Danny to have his back, even after everything that had happened.

He ran hard, the adrenaline surging him on as his legs tore up the sand. All he could think about was Catherine. He should have stayed and let Marsden escape. If Catherine had been hurt because he left, he would never be able forgive himself

He skidded to a halt in front of the lanai doors and steeled himself for what he was about to witness. He entered his living room and stopped at the chaos that greeted him. In the corner of the room, Gaines was sitting in a chair with his hands cuffed behind him. His pant legs were completely shredded and Steve could see several bleeding wounds peeking out from underneath the tattered fabric.

Chin was guarding Gaines while Buttercup, the neighbour's cat, stalked around Gaines like he was a meal. Steve would have been amused by the sight if he wasn't so concerned about Catherine.

When he finally spotted her, he rushed to her side and immediately assessed the damage. Kono was holding a clean towel to the wound on her head but Catherine was unresponsive to her ministrations.

"Cath?" he whispered as he ran his hands down her face, checking for any other wounds. "Can you hear me?"

His eyes focused on the blood dotting the towel. If he had to guess, she'd been hit with the butt of a gun and not just once.

"Paramedics are here," he heard Kono say.

Despite all the noise, Catherine remained still and unresponsive. Steve watched as the medics worked on Catherine and placed her gently on a gurney.

"Go with her Steve," Kono said, nudging him forward.

Steve moved, his body numb as he climbed into the back of the ambulance after Catherine. His vision tunnelled as he took in her fragile form and anger swelled inside him at the thought of what she'd had to endure.

He grabbed her hand with his good one and closed his eyes as he felt the ambulance's engine rumble to life.


Thursday afternoon, TAMC:

Doctor Eric Palamo finally sat down and allowed his aching legs a rest. He'd been on his feet all day; the bus crash down on Kalakaua Avenue had resulted in a sudden influx of patients ranging from minor cuts and bruises to more serious injuries requiring surgery. It was a hell of a way to start his shift.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall and allowed himself a moment of reprieve. As always, it never lasted long. The quiet space was suddenly filled with the sound of hurried footsteps and hushed but urgent tones.

Lifting his head, he glanced in the direction the sudden flurry of noise was coming from and wasn't surprised to see a gurney being rushed into a trauma room. He rose to his weary feet, knowing his pager would likely start going off any minute, and trudged towards the trauma room.

When he arrived at the room, it became clear his assistance was not required. Yet. He turned around, intent on returning to his resting place and paused when a familiar figure caught his attention.

Sitting with his hands cradled in his lap and his eyes unfocused as he stared straight ahead, was one Steve McGarrett. Looking around, Doctor Palamo expected to see the rest of the Commander's team in the waiting room beside their leader and was surprised to find they were not.

"Steve?" he asked as he approached the forlorn looking man.

The Commander's head shot up and the doctor got a good look at his most frustrating patient. McGarrett's shirt was tinged with blood (hopefully not his) and the knuckles on his injured hand were bruised and bloody. Doctor Palamo winced, knowing there was likely to be damage beneath the cast.

"Doc?" The normally in-control man sounded…lost.

"Where's your team?" Palamo asked as he stood before the seated man.

Steve looked confused, dazed even, as he looked around as though only just realising where he was. "Not sure."

Doctor Palamo frowned in concern. He didn't like the way the Commander looked. He was pale, clammy and clearly rattled. He sat down next to the man that had been slowly growing on him. "Steve. What happened?"

"I—," Steve paused, as though he had to recall the events before he could explain them. "I don't know."

Looking at his patient, he knew there was story behind his current dishevelled state but now was not the time to delve into it.

"Alright. How about we get you checked out and then I can contact your team?" the doctor suggested.

Doctor Palamo almost smiled when Steve's obstinate nature suddenly returned. "What? No, I'm fine."

"I can see that," he waved his hand at Steve's stained shirt. "Is that your blood?"

McGarrett looked down at himself and grimaced. "I'm…not sure. Maybe?"

The doctor sighed in exasperation. "Well, regardless of whose blood that is, I definitely need to check out your hand. It looks like hamburger and that's putting it gently."

McGarrett looked at his casted hand and shrugged. "Yeah, you're probably right."

McGarrett was suspiciously pliable as Doctor Palamo guided the clearly exhausted man into an empty room and sat him on a bed. "Why are you not arguing with me right now? Normally you'd be chomping at the bit to get out of here."

Steve looked at him with haunted eyes. "I found them."

"Okay," he answered as he pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and made to lift his patient's shirt to see if there was any damage underneath. "And where are they now?" He paused and looked up when his question was met with silence. "Steve?"

He was shocked to see tears forming in the Commander's eyes.

"Cath's here," Steve whispered. "She got hurt and…and Danny was yelling and…she just kept talking."

Doctor Palamo couldn't keep up with Steve's explanation but he assumed that everything had to be under control if he was at Tripler voluntarily (although he suspected the firecracker that was Danny Williams had something to do with it).

"After we're finished here, I'll find out where Cath is." While he'd never met the woman that had somehow found a place in the fearless man's heart, Doctor Palamo knew that she was the key to the Commander's happiness and would do anything to make sure they were reunited.

Steve gave him a watery smile. "Thanks."

"So, this Cath. She must be pretty special?" he asked as he reached for the scissors to cut away the Commander's shirt.

Something in the Commander's posture suddenly changed. It was almost imperceptible, except to the trained eye. Later he would curse himself for not sensing it sooner, distracted by the task of tending to his patient's wounds.

The Commander's good hand shot out and grabbed his own, twisting until the sharp pain shooting up his arm forced him to drop the scissors. His fingers went numb as he dropped to his knees, unable to move.

He looked up into the Commander's face and saw an expressionless robot staring back at him. It was clear to Doctor Palamo that his patient was no longer with him, but somewhere in the depths of his tortured mind replaying a trauma from his past. His recent past, if the doctor had to guess. Too late, he realised he'd made a grave mistake bringing him into a small room with no back up.

"Steve!" he gasped, trying to bring his patient back to reality.

He knew he wasn't successful when Steve's unfocused eyes turned to him so he tried a different tactic.

"Commander McGarrett! Stand down!" he yelled.

Those words must have resonated with the confused man because Steve stopped and stared at him, his eyes growing larger as he realised what he was doing. Like he'd been shocked, Steve instantly let go of his wrist and backed away as fast as he could until his back hit the wall behind him.

Doctor Palamo shook feeling back into his hand and stood on shaky legs. "Steve? You back with me?"

The hesitant nod was the only response. The despair and guilt emanating from the man was, however, palpable.

"It's okay, Steve," he assured the traumatised man quietly.

"No," the other man whimpered as he slid slowly down the wall. "No, it's not."

Tears started pouring from the distraught man and the doctor knew that Steve had finally reached his limit. All the guilt, pain and suffering this man harboured was just too much.

He shuffled forwards and wrapped his arms around Steve's shaking shoulders. The man was literally falling apart. He'd been so strong for far too long. Enough was enough.

Sometimes to really heal, one had to break completely.