After literally begging Dr. Hammerstein to let him see Catherine, Steve's given five minutes to sit by her side and make sure that he hadn't been lied to, when he'd been assured that her condition could now be classed as tentatively stable. Taking a deep breath, he crosses the forbidden doors and walks behind the physician through the quiet corridors to a room labelled ICU, empty but for her bed. The man opens the door for Steve and reminds him of the time limit, throws him a compassionate smile and leaves hurriedly.
As he walks into the room, steeped in shade, Steve's eyes immediately focus on her bed, the rest of the ward darkened and empty. There's a soft light to her right that bathes her in a soft glow, somehow making everything seem less sharp, less harsh. In the quiet of the night, he prays that the grim reaper has finally unsunk his clutches enough from her to let her have a decent night's sleep. He knows his nights, in the near future, will be filled with agitation, nightmares and scared awakenings.
There is a chair in the far corner of the large room, no doubt designed to hold a few more beds and Steve reaches for it and lays it by her side, close to the bed but away from Catherine's lithe form, currently exuding a multitude of wires and breathing tubes, the beeping lull of her heart rate allowing him some semblance of relief. He knows they're keeping her alive, but they're so… aggressive. As though she's being invaded once again, body and mind, against her will. Another violation. He feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin, because despite everything that happened between them, he still can't stand to see her hurt. Despite that, she looks… almost peaceful and his suffering heart, up until that moment flogged by his deepest and darkest fears, starts to beat slightly slower, while he rides the wave of adrenaline of not knowing what he was going to find when he entered the room, despite all the assurances he'd been given.
He rechecks her chest for steady, up-and-down movement and then carefully reaches for her neck and tries to feel her pulse. Her skin is still deathly pale, but warm, and when he touches her forehead with his lips, he inwardly thanks God for this gift he's just been given. He knows his checklist is stupid and useless, since no one in their right mind would've left her alone and sent him to her room had anything happened to her, but he can't help it. It's irrational, and laden with fear, but after everything they've gone through, being here is nothing short of a miracle. So, he will check. Every day if, when and wherever she lets him, for the rest of his life.
Still leaning against her, he closes his eyes, assaulted by all the foreign smells on her skin he knows are borrowed from all the hands that have touched her, and the antiseptics and ointments put on her; he lingers in that position for a few minutes, just listening to her steady breathing. The tears come unbidden as a surprise even to him, so wrapped up in his fear and he fails to see how he will be able to leave her side, let alone this room, let alone the hospital. It's unfathomable. What if something happens one minute after he leaves? What if her condition worsens and he's not there to hold her hand and tell her… what? Everything he feels but was too much of a coward to say before? How sorry he is that he never manned up and straight up asked her to marry him, or ever told her he loved her to her face?
A light click can be heard from the door and a few seconds later, he feels a hand on his shoulder, warm and reassuring. Steve swipes a hand down his cheeks and looks up to see Dr. Hammerstein silently asking him if he's ready to leave.
"Doctor, may I ask…"
"Yes, Commander?" the man looks tired to the bone, harried and dishevelled.
"I'm afraid something will happen to her when I'm gone. She died in front of me in that chopper and I can't..."
"She's stable for now, Commander. Like I said, her injuries are severe, but she's not critical. I will do you this, though. I promise to have you called immediately if her condition worsens for some unexpected reason. How is that? Better?" His wan smile is probably the best he can offer, right now.
Steve exhales, unaware he was fiercely holding his breath. "That you again, doctor. Yes, please, that will at least allow me to leave the waiting room tonight. We're just across the dirt road, in barracks F, room 15. Please," he looks the man in the eye, rising from the chair. "Anything at all, you just call me. She shouldn't be alone right now."
"I promise. I will call you."
With the doctor's assurances and his unwillingness to let him stay in the ICU, Steve walks out to find Danny waiting for him and they walk back in silence to their quarters.
In his room, he's glad for the peace and quiet, after having refused a drink and company. Danny understands what he's going through and doesn't insist, surprising Steve and earning the man eternal gratitude.
He tosses and turns from 0030 hours until 0500, mind awash with worst case scenarios and courses of action if this situation should turn into an emergency, as well as dread at every set of footsteps he hears outside, certain that they're for him.
A knock at his door immediately followed by Danny's voice reminds him that the 5-0 team is leaving that morning and he quickly gets dressed to thank them profusely and bid them farewell. They are instructed to disclose what happened only to the governor and to explain that he is taking a leave of absence until he can get his head on straight and decide, together with Caterine's father, what will happen next. No one asks the questions they are all dying to ask, respectful of their boss's right to privacy and figuring that he himself doesn't know much of how his next few days will be.
Steve tries to convince Danny to leave as well, but his friend steadfastly refuses to, arguing that he can't be left alone in this mess. Steve resigns himself to the answer he knew was coming and nods, smiling. Doris is also staying, as well as Harry, whom Steve asked for help in any possible ops that may lie ahead. It always helps to have a former MI5 spy, and a friend, too, in his corner.
Now, all that remains is to face Catherine's father and get him to go with the plan he formulated during his restless and sleepless night.
By the time he gets back to the hospital, it's already 0605 and the on-call doctor lets him know that Catherine had a restless night but remains stable and that the doctors are going to try to remove her intubation at some point during the day. Awash with relief, he thanks the doctor and walks out into the waiting room, where a breathless ensign comes looking for him, after having been to his quarters, to inform him that Captain Hamilton is asking to see him.
Steve runs towards the Navy administration building, after hurriedly thanking the ensign, hoping that this means that Admiral Rollins has arrived, apprehension about his state worrying him. He really likes Cath's father and mother and can't imagine what they must be going through, right now.
Five minutes later, out of breath, he's knocking on his CO's door and after a second, is told to enter. Steve nods at Captain Hamilton and approaches Admiral Rollins, tentatively, trying to gauge the other man's demeanour. Heavily laden with guilt, he thinks that Catherine's father will soon confirm his deepest fears. He didn't prevent her from coming here. From being captured. From doing the CIA's bidding. From finding her before all this happened. But most of all, because this was his case. His mess. His terrorist. HE got Cath involved. She was captured and tortured by a man, he, Steve, was after. He should've been the one captured and tortured, not her.
While this internal monologue of guilt and shame is raging on in his head, Admiral Rollins has risen from his chair and is now reaching for Steve's hand, to give it a firm shake and his heartfelt thanks. The action brings him out of his reverie and Steve looks down, ashamed, dismissing his claims of salvation immediately.
"Sir, I only did what anyone else would have."
"Clearly not, if the CIA knew of her possible location and did nothing! Her mother is in inconsolable tears, as would be expected and I am seething about not having been informed. Someone is going to pay for this, I can promise you that!"
"Have you been to see Cath, sir?"
At that moment, Captain Hamilton excuses himself and leaves the two men to talk in private.
Her father lowers his eyes, sadness marring his features. "Yes, I have, son. I was shocked, to say the least. That's my little girl on that hospital bed, lying there, unresponsive, covered in bruises and gashes, patched up in dressings and sutures!"
"I know, sir, I know. Admiral, may I ask…"
"What?"
"Is there anything else going on? I couldn't shake the feeling that the doctor couldn't, or wouldn't tell me that there was more worrying him that what he told me…"
Admiral Rollins sighs, averting his eyes, shaking his head. "Son, it's complicated… Catherine's in an induced coma and I really don't know how much she would like me to disclose to you. I know very little of her personal life, these days and…" he hesitates. "And there are issues here that I don't know what I should do about."
"Sir, I understand your qualms about disclosing personal information. Just tell me if these other issues have any bearing on her state, or if there is any chance they will worsen her condition?"
The other man purses his lips while looking deep into Steve's eyes, clearly making a decision. "Tell me, son… what's the status of your relationship with my daughter?" he throws at Steve while motioning for him to sit down.
Taken aback, Steve straightens his back and takes advantage of the sitting request to formulate a reply that will not show him in a terrible light. "Well, sir, you know we dated…"
"Yes, and I also know that she loved you very much. Maybe even expected some sort of proposal…?" Admiral Rollins asks, looking pointedly at Steve.
Steve gulps, aware of how delicate and important his next words are. "We, uh… no, I. I got complacent. Accommodated. Thought I'd have her by my side forever. Never bothered to tell her how I felt, to her face. Never asked her to stay. To marry me. To bear my children. And now…"
Admiral Rollins coughs and stirs in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "Yes, I am aware that Catherine left and decided to join the CIA."
Steve feels that the clear and direct segway is her father's way of laying the guilt solely at his feet for her leaving and having a super dangerous job, that keeps her away from home and family. Right now, he thinks the man is right.
"However, it takes two to tango and I am not ignorant of my daughter's temper and stubbornness. And pride," he adds, corners of his mouth turning ever so slightly upwards. "But all that is for the two of you to sort through, I have no say in my daughter's friendships or love life."
Steve looks away, embarrassed. "There is no love life, Sir. Hasn't been one since…" he hesitates, the easy, but involuntary lie on his lips suddenly reminding him of Washington. "Since Catherine left Hawai'i, Sir, almost three years ago." The little white lie can't hurt Admiral Rollins and it'll help Steve maintain the respect he hopes he can still deserve from the man in front of him.
"Well, now, that is interesting…" Admiral Rollins looks him straight in the eye again. "Are you sure, son?"
Steve gulps, hoping that his lie wasn't so blatant as to have been so easily found out. "Sir?"
"Steve, when I arrived, I was taken to see Catherine and had a meeting with her doctor. You were right in your feeling that there was more to her condition than what you were told. But it was not the doctor's place to tell you. Even Captain Hamilton does not know."
His heart starts beating a mile a minute, and Steve tries to keep his countenance calm and his breathing under control. What now? What more can there be? Isn't her condition bad enough? How many months, no – years – will it take for her to deal with the PTSD she's sure to be left with?
"It seems that Catherine is…" Admiral Rollins hesitates, wringing his hands and looking to the side, face contorted in anger. "Pregnant."
That word is the last thing Steve had expected to hear, so far down in the list of possible dramas still plaguing his friend and former girlfriend. His mind reels, and suddenly he remembers the anomaly, the bump, the slight elevation in her abdomen when he'd found her. He'd been so preoccupied with her survival, he hadn't even remembered to ask about that. Finding his voice, the surprise plastered across his face is total.
"Pregnant? But, how?" he blurts out, eyes bulging.
"Well, I'm sure you know about the birds and the bees, son," Admiral Rollins throws at him, visibly annoyed. "Now, I've been told of the… special circumstances of her rescue – for which, again, I will be eternally thankful to you, since the people who should've worried about her left her literally for dead. But the necessary secrecy of her treatment also means that the campaign hospital is not properly equipped with all that high tech gear that doctors use to assess pregnant women," Admiral Rollins waves his hand, signifying that he doesn't even want to think about them.
Steve is quiet, wanting to hear the man to the end without interruptions. He senses Admiral Rollins is thankful for that.
"Anyway, despite that, Doctor Hammerstein has estimated her pregnancy to be three months along." He looks at Steve, trying to gauge if any bulbs light up on his face, but the other man is still trying to join words together into sentences that make sense to him. "That's why I asked you about…" he veers off, hoping Steve will get his meaning.
Thankfully, Steve does and raises a hand to signify that Admiral Rollins need speak no further. "I see. Well, Admiral, I'm afraid there's no way…"
Catherine's father sighs in clear disappointment. "I see. Well, that's unfortunate, really. Maybe there was someone else in her life…"
Suddenly, a furious adrenaline discharge fires up all of Steve's nerve endings at once and his face explodes. "Sir, that… that's…" He hesitates, knowing his next words will shatter Catherine's father's heart completely. "Catherine was taken four and a half months ago, from what I gathered. I thought you knew."
Shock is the name of the expression on Admiral Rollin's face, mirroring Steve's to a T. How could he have been so stupid? Of course, if it's been that long, Cath isn't pregnant by choice or accident. Besides, she might've mentioned a relationship to her mother, at least her… and it would've trickled down to her father at some point. The fact that he doesn't know of any…
"Well, then, in that case, other possibilities arise that are far more… disturbing for us all. I can't think about them and about anyone hurting my baby that way, but... that opens the door to that ugliest of words, rape. While in captivity. By terrorists. Who then left her for dead." Admiral Rollins bends down to hide his face in his hands and Steve's never seen him so broken. So frail. No longer the proud Admiral, just a grieving father. "If you'll excuse me, son, I must call Mrs. Rollins…"
"Sir, we need to talk about what comes next. I am sorry, but Catherine's presence on this base is a liability and she must be taken back to the States without the CIA being alerted to the current state of things. It is imperative." His look of determination only serves to make Admiral Rollins look at him again, as though uncomprehending what he's being told.
Suddenly, the other man exhales brokenly and nods. "Yes, Mark already tried to tell me something to that effect. We are moving her, as soon as she can be moved. My wife-"
"Sir, please. Let me take Cath to Hawai'i."
Admiral Rollins looks at him as though he suddenly sprouted a new head. "What? Why on earth would I do that?"
"Sir, Catherine needs to leave this place as soon as possible. I believe we can agree on that. But, back in the States, there will only be Mrs. Rollins, right? You're due back on your ship soon?"
"Well, I'm sure I can get leave to take care of my daughter, if properly justified…" Admiral Rollins says, hesitantly. His brows divot and he looks to the side, judging how accurate his own claim is. His mission in the Mediterranean is critical and he seriously doubts he'd be given leave at this point, anyway.
"Well, sir, then there's the other matter of the CIA. Who's to say that they may not try to take Catherine to a place where she can be debriefed and kept for God knows how long, without your knowledge? They really dropped the ball, here and they know it, so they'll want to cover up their mess. Washington is the first place they'll look, her place first, yours immediately after. Following your wife to find out in which hospital she's in will be a piece of cake, and they can easily kidnap her from the hospital or your home. Mrs. Rollins will be alone with Catherine, how easy will it be for her to cope? You'll be back on your ship and your sons will also be deployed or taking care of their lives, they won't be able to come and stay for extended periods of time. And you know Catherine's recovery will take a very long time. I have the availability to look after her. I am in law enforcement and have a network of family and friends who will do everything in their power to protect Catherine. After all, she worked for 5-0, they all know and love her. She loves the island, too and I will make sure that she's well taken care of and safe, most importantly. She can go back on 5-0 insurance under an alias or as an undercover agent, and we'll backtrack her employment, I'll arrange it with the governor. Everything will be taken care of."
Admiral Rollins keeps looking at Steve, cogs in his brain turning, not saying a word. The younger man's arguments make sense, but what will his daughter think when she wakes up and finds herself in Hawai'i, of all places? He's not ignorant of the story they shared and how important that story was for his daughter. Weighing her safety and comfort, on the one hand, and her possible dislike for her geographical location, on the other, Admiral Rollins makes a decision.
"Steve, I really appreciate your offer, but for me to even consider this, to present this option to my wife…"
"What?" Steve says, chest blooming with hope. He hadn't dared dream that his crazy plan might even be a possibility. He was sure Admiral Rollins would shut it down as the craziest thing ever and point blank refuse to even entertain the idea.
"You must understand that one can't separate mothers from cubs, especially when they're injured. They would be a package deal…"
Steve tries not to smile too much. "Sir, I have two spare bedrooms and Mrs. Rollins will be most welcome to stay for as long as she wishes to."
Admiral Rollins gestures with his hands, seemingly curbing Steve's enthusiasm. "Thank you, Steve, but I'm not sure how amenable my wife would be to that option. A hotel would be fine, or even a rental."
"Sir, I was a guest at your house on several occasions, in the past; please convey to Mrs. Rollins that it will be my honour to receive her in mine, for however long she needs, should she wish to. Truly. I wish to help, Sir, and I believe I'm a bit better equipped to do so, especially after Cath leaves the hospital. However, due to her injuries, I would imagine she shouldn't be moved around?"
Admiral Rollins goes back to thinking, loudly. "No, she definitely shouldn't." He looks up to Steve. "I will speak with my wife and will let her know of your kind, generous offer. Thank you, Steve. You really are a great friend to my daughter."
They shake hands and Steve goes back to the hospital to get news on Cath's condition.
Along the way, he finds a secluded corner and sits down, legs shaking from the conversation he's just had. He can't remember ever being left in such a state after a simple talk, but the news are earth shattering. He knows his heart is breaking, not only for her, but also for himself. This last piece of news her father shared has literally made it impossible for him to even fathom ever getting the caring, carefree and adorable Catherine he's always known back into his life. Although her sweet nature is also fired up by her resourcefulness and no-nonsense attitude, he knows full well that this… no one comes back from something like this without major trauma. And the work that she'll have to put in to try and cope, to navigate this drama… he closes his eyes and sighs deeply.
And then, what if... what if Catherine herself doesn't want to stay in Hawai'i and resents him for even suggesting it to her father? What if she demands to leave immediately, angry at him for making decisions for her, with her family's help? What if there really is another man in her life and he gets wind of the situation and doesn't understand it? What if she wants to go back to the CIA, after this? He can't fathom it… but his conscience is also aware that what he's doing is not wholly innocent, and maybe, just maybe, his motivations reach further than merely wanting to keep her safe. Mulling it over he decides, however, to leave those considerations for later – for when Catherine's conscious and can make her own decisions – even yell at him, if she so wishes. For when she can travel. For when they can be sure she will be safe from the clutches of the CIA. And far away enough from Al-Nazri that he won't ever be a threat again. Because Steve knows that the man will no doubt find out that, although he left her for dead, somehow, by some miracle, 5-0 saved her and she managed to pull through.
Suddenly, it's as though the penny finally drops. Catherine, his Catherine, is pregnant! If the baby survives her debilitated state… which he doesn't even know if he wants it to, considering no one knows how this child came to be, she will become a mother. To a child that isn't his. That, coupled with everything else she must overcome… will inevitably take her further and further away from him until only past moments remain. He will become nothing more than a distant memory in her mind and heart. Steve's not sure he can live with that. He knows he's being childish, prejudiced and even bordering on evil, but the thoughts come unbidden into his mind and he has trouble controlling the sob that escapes his throat.
He desperately wants to convince himself that there might be a way that her pregnancy is not the result of rape, but every avenue he thinks up, brings him back to the same result. He wishes (thinking how ridiculously impossible he would find all of this, a mere hour ago) that she could be pregnant by a current boyfriend or fiancée… even a one-night stand would do! Any of these scenarios would be preferable to the reality they must all now face. How will she react? Cope? Besides, what are all those idiots doing, letting a female agent do field work without putting her on birth control? Could she have refused it? Would she? How long does the damned thing last and when might her last shot have been? Why wouldn't they have ordered a top up of some sort, if it was coming to an end? Christ, what a mess! Why, why, why?
As he dwells on his ever increasing hatred for the CIA, Steve stands and starts walking again, loath to be away from her for too long. Dr. Hammerstein says nothing when Steve nods at him and beelines for the ICU room, making him think, in passing, that perhaps Admiral Rollins gave him a free pass to visit with her anytime he wishes to.
Her ghostly figure once again greets him from the bed, decorated with all the wires and tubes he's kind of growing accustomed to, the steady beeping of her heartbeat coming off of the machine again having an immediate calming effect. His chair from earlier in still in the exact same spot and he lets his tired body sink into it, trying to ward off earlier thoughts, the divot between his brows deepening as he contemplates her state. He reaches for Catherine's hand, very carefully, wincing at how pale her skin still is while he rubs soothing circles on it, remembering happier times. It's as though… the flashbacks in his mind are all at 10% colour, like in old movies and her body is in one of those and not here, in front of him, in Technicolour.
The nursing staff leave him be, since the patient is stable enough and he ends up falling asleep hopelessly crouched in the hospital chair. A few hours later he wakes with a start, in momentary panic at a machine furiously beeping next to him. He's seen enough medical dramas on television to know what he needs to do, but suddenly understands why people normally get in the way and have to be taken out of the room by a nurse or doctor – the panic is real, disorienting, and gut-wrenching, throwing him completely for a loop.
Turns out it's just the settings on the vital signs monitor that are set to a very low threshold, and a nice nurse immediately comes in to silence it, readjusting the parameters and asks him to leave for the day as her father is expected any minute. Promising to return the next day and certain that Admiral Rollins will come to him when he's good and ready, Steve heads for the barracks where his room is located, dying for some rest. Maybe even, if he could muster it, some sleep. He knows it won't happen, but a man can hope.
Danny, however, must have his hear glued to the door, because as soon as Steve puts key to lock, the door across the hall opens and he furtively peeks out, clearly happy to see him.
"Hey."
"Hi, Danny. Sorry about disappearing on you, but-"
Danny raises a hand, dismissing his friend's speech. "Steve, come on. No need to apologise. I know what's going on and what you're going through. How's Catherine?"
As he opens the door to his own room, Steve sighs, despondent. "The same, I guess. She's stable, which is a win, but…"
Danny follows him inside, closes the door and sits on the desk chair, while Steve lies down on his bed, eyes closed and an arm over them. "Still not enough."
"Exactly. She's in an induced coma, you know?"
Danny nods, sad. "Yeah, Doris and I talked this morning."
Surprised, Steve opens his eyes and sits back against his pillows. "How…?"
Danny smiles. "You know Doris, right? She's so pissed off at her own employer, she found a way to keep them in the dark and still find out what's going on. Something about a really nice nurse and the fact that she almost became Lieutenant Rollin's mother-in-law."
Steve can't believe his ears. "What? Christ, my mother, I swear…"
Danny chuckles. "Yes, Doris is something." But the two are finally alone and his curiosity can no longer be quieted. "So, huh, Steve…"
"What, Danny?" His eyes have closed again.
"Care to share what happened, the last time you were here?"
"Huh?" Steve's lost.
"You know? Al-Nazri, the CIA, Catherine? I know you saw each other when you were here."
"How?" Steve eyebrows reach his forehead.
"Never mind, how. I simply know."
Too tired to pry the information out of Danny, he sighs, closing his eyes again. "Nothing happened, Danny, the CIA was imposed on me, end of story."
"Oh, no, you don't. It would've been the end of the story, except it wasn't, was it? You never told me you ran into Catherine, so that can't have been it. I wonder why you kept that important bit of news from me."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, I know you. If it had just been two friends meeting serendipitously, you would've commented on it. But you kept her presence from me. That tells me that something happened. And you knew I wouldn't like it."
Steve sighs again, duly ashamed of the obvious truth being slapped in his face. "I'm sorry, Danny, I wanted to. But you've always been so vocal against Catherine, I just didn't feel like explaining and listening to your warnings and rants-"
"Rants? Are you serious?"
"Danny, please understand… I just couldn't, not at that time. Seeing her again, being so close to her left me… seriously unbalanced."
Danny sighs, mumbling. "Yeah, what's new…"
"Danny, I know you're not Catherine's greatest admirer and I just needed some time to put my thoughts into order, before telling you what had happened. I knew you wouldn't be ecstatic about the news…"
"Do you imagine, for a moment, that I'm happy about what's happened here? That I'm happy Catherine's in a coma, after being taken and held prisoner for God knows how many months? She was my colleague, too, you know? My friend! I merely resented her for her treatment of you, but that's another matter entirely," Danny looks pointedly at Steve, angry.
"I didn't say that, Danny. I know you're a good man, I wouldn't be friends with you if I didn't think that. And I also know that you made valid points, when it came to mine and Catherine's relationship, her leaving and joining the CIA and all the lies. But you're fiercely protective of your friends and family, so you can't deny that you weren't exactly thrilled when you arrived in Montana and found her there. Plus, all the quick assumptions you made – and threw in her face. You were actually quite rude to her, and I let it pass because I was also angry and selfishly felt vindicated. I was a coward, by letting you fight my fight and tell her my truths. On another level, I also thought – 'they're friends and adults, they'll eventually sort their shit out'. But you've held a grudge against her ever since she left O'ahu after Kono's wedding," he says, raising one hand to quiet Danny's agitated face, "yes, Danny, I know, I, too, was angry and reacted badly, you don't have to remind me of that stupid day, I wish I could erase it from my existence. But I guess I needed to make sense of my real feelings first, before having to justify any decisions I might make, regarding her."
"First of all, Steve, I was only looking out for you," Danny says, calmly.
"I know, Danny, and like I've already said, I thank you wholeheartedly. You're my best friend and I know you have my best interests at heart. Problem is, I myself didn't really know what those interests were. I know you wished I could move on and find someone else, so did I, but guess what? Ultimately, you know, heart and mind really are two different things. I tried my best to forget her, put her out of my mind, believe me. Real hard. And at some point, I thought I'd managed. I fooled myself for a couple of years, attributing my thoughts of Catherine to the years we'd spent together and the fond memories we shared. Then, one day, I realised I was simply kidding myself. Tragically. So, I had to deal with my feelings, and knowing how you felt about Cath, I needed to figure out how I felt first, before having to… almost defend my decision to you. I'm sorry, Danny, but that's how it felt, at the time. I never mentioned anything because… well, she was still gone, nothing had changed in that respect. God, I still haven't had the chance to…" he breaks, tears falling down his face and turns away.
Danny leans forward, floored. 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions' comes to his mind. He realises, with cruel clarity, that his efforts to protect his friend from heartache, however well meant, had had the opposite effect. Worse, even, they had made Steve feel that he couldn't confide in his best friend. Sighing, he looks down at his shoes and mumbles, "I'm sorry, I should've realised your attachments are all for life."
"Huh?"
"You're loyal, to a fault. That much we've established. Good friend, good son, good brother, good colleague, good Navy Commander and SEAL, good boyfriend and, one day, you'll be a great husband and father." Steve huffs in cruel sarcasm at himself, but Danny ignores him. "You refuse to waste other people's time, and even then, you worry about them", he says, thinking of Lynn. "I didn't know you when you met Catherine, and you've known each other for a long time. Christ, you bought her a ring that cost more than a truck! Given your level of stinginess, I'd say that shows how much you loved the woman," Danny goes on, trying to get a smile out of his friend. "You were about to propose! I never heard you speak of Lynn the way you spoke of Catherine, your eyes never glinted for Lynn the way they did when Cath entered a room…" Steve eyes him with a pointed look on his face. "Yes, Steven, I noticed. I may be a guy, but it was blatantly obvious. I fooled myself, thinking you needed time to get there with Lynn, as you'd surely taken your time with Cath. She was perfect, or so I thought. But what I failed to understand was that this was never a matter of time. It was always about the girl. Cherchez la femme, right? I knew you'd loved her, I guess I never understood how much and how deep that love ran, how strong your attachment to her was. And I tried to force you to move on, and walked around all proud of myself, because I was sure you'd moved on. Removed her from your heart and mind. I'd bested her, after what she'd told me on the lookout point, to my face, and then turned around and did the exact opposite. I felt… avenged."
Steve looks at him, realising he's missing a piece of the story. "What are you talking about? You sound as though she owed you something!"
Danny gasps, foot in mouth, caught. "Steve, calm down, please. I guess I should've told you, at the time…"
"What did you do, Danny?"
"I talked to her, that was all. Asked her to stay. Told her you were your happiest self when she was around."
Steve stares at him, dumbfounded. Finding his voice, he probes further. "What did she say?"
"This was when she was on the island for Kono's wedding. Told me there was 'nothing she wanted more'. Then, she left. I was angry, she'd lied to my face. That's why I was sure she wasn't the woman for you."
Steve smiles at his best friend's simple logic. "I forgive you for interfering. I guess it doesn't really matter anymore. She left, ultimately…"
"Yes, I wonder about that, I've always wondered. Especially since Montana, you know."
"Whatever, Danny. Right now, none of that matters. I need her to wake up, get better, and for us to get her the hell out of the CIA's clutches as soon as possible."
"What do the doctors say?"
"They were going to try and extubate her today, but I wasn't allowed to stay. Her dad is there, though, so I'm staying awake until he comes back."
"And if they do it successfully tonight?"
"It will all depend on how her condition evolves. She has to be fully stable before we can move her. Conscious would be a bonus."
"Where to?"
"Hopefully, Hawai'i."
Danny goes back to his room with a bite on his tongue and several half crescents on his palms, from the nails he's deeply embedded in them at the news.