Family, Familia, ‘Ohana

by satashii

Summary:

When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Chapter 1: Distress Signals

Chapter One: Distress Signals

 

All at once

The world can’t overwhelm me

There’s almost nothin’ that you could tell me

That could ease my mind

 

Danny

The low brrrr noise of a phone on vibrate ringing was irritating as Steve had set his phone down unattended on the corner of Danny’s desk before leaving for a meeting with the governor about budgets and how 5-0 needed to at least make a show of pretending to have one. Steve didn’t need to leave his phone (that was why there was the silence feature) but after the last disaster during a meeting with the governor and the irritation the elected official had expressed at not having the commander of 5-0’s full attention, Steve had all but been ordered to delegate phone-sitting duties to someone else on his team for the duration of the meeting. 

All scheduled two hours of it.

Lucky Danny had won that duty. He could, theoretically, interrupt said meeting if there was something of importance going on.  Steve wanting a rescue was not a valid reason per the last email Danny had gotten from the governor’s chief of staff either. 

So—no interrupting unless a major crisis was happening.

And now Danny was snatching at the phone as it vibrated it’s way off the edge of his desk to bounce on the floor and then skitter under his desk.  It had startled him by actually going off as the rest of 5-0 was all in their office and no calls had come through dispatch for them all morning. 

Not to jinx anything... but it had been a bizarrely quiet day thus far. 

Danny would like it to remain so for once. 

Just once. 

Please for the love of god—just one quiet day where he didn’t get shot at, shoot at anyone himself, or have any interaction with medical personnel. 

Swearing, he ended up on his hands and knees to retrieve the blasted piece of technology.  By the time he wrapped his fingers around the handset, whoever was calling had hung up. Annoyed, Danny sat back on his heels and swiped to open the phone, inputting Grace’s birthdate which Steve used as his password because it was the same one that Danny used on his own phone. 

The number wasn’t in Steve’s contacts but it was an area code he didn’t immediately recognize. There was a notification about a missed call but there was also a text message from the same number. 

The message simply said “Call me Smooth Dog!”. 

Arching one eyebrow, Danny wondered which skeleton was crawling out of Steve’s closet now. Mentally, he tallied all the former or current military members that Danny had been introduced to over the last several years and came up blank on who it could be. Civilians—like him—didn’t call Steve by the moniker Smooth Dog so it had to be someone he knew from when he was active duty. 

Danny was debating whether or not to call this person back when the phone notified him that the number was calling again. Whoever was calling was either impatient or it was potentially an emergency and Danny should answer. Tapping on the green answer button, he raised Steve’s phone to his ear. 

“About time you answered,” a husky male voice groused before Danny could say anything. 

“Ahem. This is Detective Danny Williams on Steve’s phone. Who is this?”

There was a crackle of static that disrupted the silence on the other end. “This is the famous Danno?”

Huffing in irritation, Danny scowled and looked in the direction of Steve’s empty office. “This is Detective Danny Williams.  Now who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

Laughter erupted over the connection.  It was a nice, full-bellied sound and Danny tried his best not to get more annoyed—resolving to wait out whoever this was. “Smooth Dog talks about you all the time,” was said more clearly after a cough that poorly concealed more laughter. “Well if you have his phone... can you please tell Steve to call Hondo? Today?”

“Hondo?  Like the John Wayne movie?”

“Yeah. Like the movie. Tell Steve it’s important—about his favorite nephew.”

“Nephew?” Danny was confused.  Steve had a niece not a nephew. And while Charlie did tend to call him Uncle Steve, Danny was pretty sure it wasn’t Charlie that this Hondo was referring to. 

“He’ll know what I’m talking about.  Please make sure he understands it’s time sensitive.”  Hondo now sounded dead serious and some urgency crept into his voice. 

“Sure.  Hondo called about his nephew.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it Danno.”

Danny’s teeth made a creaking sound he clenched them so hard. “Please call me Danny.  Danno is what my daughter calls me.”

More laughter. “I’ll try to remember that Detective Williams,” Hondo at least attempted to sound more normal but the snort of laughter at the end wasn’t.  With a “later” the other man hung up without giving Danny the opportunity to say anything further. 

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Danny stared at it as if it had more answers in frustration. 

“Hey Danny?  Who was that?” Kono asked from the open doorway, her long hair sweeping over her shoulder as she leaned into his office. 

“I’m not sure.  Some buddy of Steve’s,” he muttered in response as he beckoned her in, still staring at the phone screen which had gone dark from no activity. 

The slight downturn of Kono’s lips told Danny that she was just as nervous as him about a buddy of Steve’s calling in the middle of the work day. The whole Bullfrog incident made all of them anxious about a repeat work-related appearance of former Seals.  “What did they want?” Kono asked as she slid into the chair he kept opposite his desk, clutching at the cup of coffee in her hand. 

“He said his name was Hondo—like the John Wayne film. And he said he was calling about Steve’s nephew.”  Danny let the phone drop to rest on the desktop, exchanging it for a pen that he could twist in his fingers for something to do. 

“Nephew?”  The delicate way Kono’s face scrunched up in confusion made Danny feel better that she was as clueless as him.  “But Steve doesn’t have any nephews...”

“I know.  I’m just as in the dark as you.” 

Danny hated not knowing and it pulled at him that there was another part of Steve’s past that was coming forward. 

Please let this not be another painful thing....

***

There’s a world we’ve never seen

There’s still hope between the dreams

The weight of it all could blow away with a breeze

If you’re waitin’ on the wind

Don’t forget to breathe

 

Steve

The meeting with Denning had been like most meetings—Steve had gritted his teeth and fought off boredom for parts of it while having to defend his team’s spending patterns for the rest of it. He liked the governor but his attempts to curtail some of Steve’s methods at times made them at odds despite the man liking their results. Currently, Denning just seemed to want to make sure that Steve understood that he needed to make time for the man’s concerns—which Steve could do. 

And maybe he’d try to keep their insurance rates down a bit. 

Maybe. 

Or Danno was going to give him hell about needing to see a dentist if he had to sit through many more budget meetings. 

Walking back into the offices, Chin was at the computer table and sifting through some cold cases in boredom.  There was no sign of either Danny or Kono. 

“Steve,” Chin said absently, fingers flicking away a file before meeting Steve’s eyes. The Hawaiians man’s eyes were troubled and it immediately set Steve’s nerves at attention. “Danny’s been holed up in his office.  There was a call.”

“A call?”  Steve had stopped just next to the table, poised on the balls of his feet to stride towards Danny’s closed door. 

Chin nodded. “Someone named Hondo.”  At the name, Chin pulled up a file and opened it. 

Chin had guessed right on who Hondo was—off of likely next to no information unless he’d traced the phone number. Steve wondered some days how Chin had developed these skills. Daniel “Hondo” Harrelson’s service record from the LAPD was displayed. The slight rise of one fine eyebrow told him that Chin was pleased that he’d gotten the name attached to the right person. It had been years since Steve had seen Hondo in person—marines weren’t usually attached to seal units but Hondo had spent some time on the same operations as his team and they’d socialized when in the same country or time zone on occasion. 

But it had been a while.  “Did he say what he wanted?”

Chin shrugged. “Danny took the call.”

Nodding, Steve turned to stalk towards Danny’s closed office door. “Thanks,” he threw over his shoulder.  Chin may have Hondo’s public service records but it’d take more time and a higher security clearance to get anything other than that even if Chin was especially good at getting information he shouldn’t have access to.

Knocking on the door to Danny’s office, the door opened at the light touch. Danny had the lights off, just dimmed  afternoon light coming in from the closed blinds which meant that he probably had another one of his stress headaches which made Steve worry. “Danno?” He called lowly. 

“Yeah Babe?” Danny’’s voice sounded tired and Steve pushed the door open just enough to sneak through before closing it after him. 

Danny was leaning over his desk, head pillowed on his arms and eyes closed, Steve’s cell phone clutched in one hand. “You okay Danno?” 

Steve hovered uncertainly, wondering if he should get some ibuprofen or a glass of water. Danny had been having a lot of headaches as of late—Rachel’s push and pull custody arguments had kicked back up into higher gear yet again and the stress had been causing Danny’s insomnia to worsen which then caused sleep deprivation headaches.  The deep shadows under Danny’s eyes had been telling and Steve had been badgering his partner into staying over later and more often, trying to shoulder some of the burden and provide emotional support.  Clenching his jaw, Steve reminded himself that he couldn’t bribe Rachel and that it would likely backfire on Danny. He could play nice but Rachel was far from his favorite person even if she was necessary to have Grace and Charlie in Danny’s life. 

“I’ll live.” Danny waved his hand and sat up to recline in his chair before rubbing his face with both hands.   Blue eyes peeked out from his fingers and they zeroed in on Steve, his partner’s analytical brain already kicking into gear despite the headache. “You want to tell me who Hondo is?”

“He’s a friend.”  Steve still didn’t take the other chair as he wasn’t sure he shouldn’t grab the ibuprofen from the med kit. “Do you need some ibuprofen?”

Another wave of the hand in dismissal. “A friend. A friend like Bullfrog?”

Steve grimaced at Nick’s name, a bad taste in his mouth. “No. Hondo’s one of the good guys.”

Danny didn’t look impressed at Steve’s denial. Nick had been an unfortunate misjudgment on his part. The Nick Taylor he’d known as a seal had changed—and not for the better. The Bullfrog he’d worked alongside for years would have always had his back but had transferred out of the seals three years before Steve himself had and they hadn’t been on the same team for almost five years during which Steve had become the commander of his own team with Freddie as his SIC. 

The whole soldier-for-hire thing that Nick had going on wasn’t something that the Bullfrog he’d known would have done. The mess they’d ended up in had served as a painful reminder that people changed and life made you change. You made choices and sometimes you ended up on the opposite side of a gun barrel from your friends. 

Danny had been watching him, gears turning in his head but he seemed willing to believe Steve’s word on Hondo.  “So Hondo called—and I asked if it was like the John Wayne movie.”

Steve couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, picturing Hondo’s reaction to explaining his nickname—which was partially related to John Wayne.  Most didn’t pick up on the reference anymore but little escaped his Danno. “I’m sure he loved that.”

The dirty look that Danny shot him was confirmation. “As I was saying, like the movie.  And then he told me to have you call him about your nephew. Which,” Danny made a flowing gesture with one hand at Steve, “to my knowledge you don’t have. Joanie is your niece.”

At the word “nephew” Steve’s spine straightened and his shoulders tightened. “My nephew?”  There was only one man that Hondo could be referring to and Steve hadn’t heard anything from LA in a while that suggested trouble. 

Danny cocked his head, gaze narrowing. “Your nephew.  Now who might that be?”

“You don’t know him,” Steve held out his hand for his cell. 

Danny pulled the phone out of reach. “Who is he?  And why would he be in trouble?”

Sighing, Steve debated just diving for his phone but knew that Danny would likely fight him for it. Putting both hands on his hips he stood over Danny. “Can I have my phone?”

Danny didn’t like his non-answer. “Who is this nephew Steven?”

“He’s not really my nephew—it’s more of a joke than anything.”

“Doesn’t sound like a joke.  Say the magic words Steven.”

Huffing at Danny, Steve held out his hand for his phone. “Please.”

Danny was being decidedly difficult and pulled the phone further out of reach. “Who’s your nephew?”

Steve made a grab for the phone and got a kick to his shin as Danny managed to hold it out of reach despite Steve’s longer reach. Glaring as he rubbed his leg and not willing to cause Danny’s headache to worsen, Steve growled at Danny. “His name is Buck.  He’s one of my former teammates.”

“Buck?” Danny’s eyebrows had gone up.  “Another nickname?”

Rolling his eyes at Danny, Steve sat in the other chair across from him. He wasn’t going to get his phone without giving Danny more information. “It’s a shortened form of his last name.  He actually usually got called kid.”

“Kid?”

“He was the youngest guy on my team.”

Danny was playing with the phone in his hands, turning over the facts that Steve was giving him. “A seal?”

Nodding, Steve debated making another grab for his phone. “Yes.  He got out of the navy after his first contract ended—wanted to actually feel like he was saving people more directly.”

“Admirable. But why’s this Hondo calling about him?  Said it was time sensitive.”

“Hondo’s a former marine, works LAPD SWAT and Buck lives in LA last I heard.  I’d have to call him to find out.” Steve gave a pointed glare towards his phone in Danny’s hands. 

“SWAT?  He as crazy as you?” Danny still wasn’t giving up the phone. 

“No.  He’s got a good team he works with though.  Now can I have my phone?”

Danny looked almost ready to capitulate but he had one final question. “What kind of trouble could this Buck be in?”

Steve shrugged. “He’s a firefighter but he wouldn’t get himself mixed up in anything illegal—he’s too smart for that and not the type.”

“A firefighter?  He went from seal to firefighter?”  Danny looked as if he didn’t believe Steve.

Steve shrugged. “He wanted to help people—makes sense.”

Danny finally relented, passing over the phone. “You’ll tell me if I can help?”

“Yes Danno,” Steve promised.  First he had to find out what was going on—it might not be anything to involve Danny in or it might be something more law enforcement related and Danny could help. Steve wouldn’t know until he called. 

Danny’s skepticism was wounding but Steve supposed that it was realistic given past actions.  He did have a habit of keeping Danny out of anything that it wasn’t absolutely necessary for his partner to be involved in—but that was for Danny’s protection. Danny had kids he needed to come home for and he didn’t need to get mixed up in all of Steve’s problems.  That inner voice that sounded a lot like Danno reminded Steve to always have backup on the way and his lips quirked up into a small smile which just made Danny frown in suspicion. Before Danny could object, Steve thanked him and sprung to his feet. 

He’d get Danny some ibuprofen before calling Hondo back. 

***

Hondo answered on the first ring. “Smooth Dog,” was the drawled tease of his old nickname. 

“Hondo,” Steve was smiling at the other man’s greeting. “How’s Hollywood?”

The snort of disgust was exaggerated and full of good humor. “Still crazy. How’s pineapple land?”

“Still full of pineapples,” Steve joked back before turning serious.  Hondo wouldn’t have reached out like this unless something was going on. “What’s up with the kid?”

There was a pregnant pause over the line. “When’s the last time you talked to him?”

Uneasiness spread through Steve at the seriousness of Hondo’s tone contrasted with his good humored greeting. “It’s been a while.  Got an email around christmas time and everything seemed to be going okay.  He’s young and busy so sometimes it’s a while between chats.” 

“Shit—you don’t know.  The kid didn’t tell you?”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, the uneasiness worsening with a sense of dread. “Know what? What would he have to tell me?”

“I’m sending you a news story link. Read it and call me back—me first not the kid,” Hondo ordered before hanging up. 

Steve didn’t hesitate and put his phone down, moving the mouse to make his desktop computer wake and pulled up his email. There was an email from Hondo’s LAPD address in his inbox. The message was empty except for a link to a local LA news page. 

The wait between clicking on the link and the page loading seemed longer than it actually was. 

Steve sharply inhaled as he saw the headline: LA Firefighter Drops Wrongful Termination Lawsuit. Scanning the article, he sees Buck’s name and then there’s a link to another article. Firefighter Injured in Fire Truck Bombing, Bomber Caught After Standoff. 

He fumbled slightly as he clicked on the second link which has archived video footage of the incident. 

There’s a warning before the video plays that some of it’s contents may be disturbing and that young children should not watch. He ignores the warning and hits play. 

Steve watches the news story in the growing horror of realization of what he’s about to see.

The news anchor talks but Steve’s eyes are pinned on the action going on over her shoulder. A fire truck is lying on it’s side and there’s a blonde firefighter pinned near the front with his leg under the truck, having been thrown during the explosion. The news footage is too grainy to tell who it is but Steve knows who it is. The reporter is focusing on the angry young man who’s wearing a bomb vest and someone else who’s trying to talk him down but Steve can’t look away from the crumped form on the ground that makes weak movements trying to pull himself out but just curls in pain each time he tries. 

By the time that the bomber is neutralized it’s been three minutes of compressed video coverage—not real time. The news had kept filming as the firefighters tried to lift the truck off of Buck. They’re not successful until they call for more assistance and then onlookers—just regular people—stream forward to help. The video doesn’t show it but their combined effort obviously gets enough lift to pull Buck free and he’s swarmed by paramedics. The reporter is saying something about how good it is that people are helping and Steve can only stare at the form being lifted onto a gurney.   

Steve rubs his hand over his face, staring at the video as it finishes but not listening to anything the reporter says. Reaching out he restarts the footage, watching from the beginning and trying to listen this time. 

A series of mail bombs cumulating in the bombing of a fire truck. A suspended fire captain the one to talk the suicide vest wearer down. No mentions made of Buck’s name in the video but Steve knows who it is under that truck—he doesn’t need it confirmed.  He’d know his teammate anywhere no matter how long it’d been.

He watches it a third time, hands clenched into fists and nails biting into his palms. The obvious pain of the pinned man and the weak wave he’d given once on the gurney that had made the crowd cheer for him, face obscured. 

Why hadn’t Buck reached out?  Surely he knew he could?  While Buck had been closer to Freddie, Steve thought they had the type of connection where the kid would know he could depend on Steve if he needed help.  But then again, the kid had always been weird about asking for help given how he’d grown up... Freddie would be livid if he was alive and Steve knew he needed to do something.

Going back to the first news story, Steve re-read it. There was Buck’s name as the person bringing suit against the LAFD and his captain—the man that had talked the bomber down. The news article didn’t reveal much as a lot of it was being kept from the public but the story was about two months old, the bombing just after the first of the year—a span of almost six months between the two articles.  Buck had dropped the suit according to the article. 

What had happened to the kid between the bombing and the lawsuit?  Hondo obviously knew more if he was calling Steve. 

Steve punched Hondo’s number with force into his phone.  

***

Which way will you run

When it’s always all around you

And the feelin’ lost

And found you again

A feelin’ that we have no control

 

Eddie

Pulling twenty four hour shifts were always tough—he’d started at noon and was on until tomorrow. There had been a call earlier for a small house fire but he’d been able to sit down and not have to inhale the casserole that Buck had made for them.  It hadn’t escaped Eddie’s notice that it was his favorite and he’d had a brief moment where he’d almost went to look for Buck before he’d stopped himself.  He wasn’t ready to talk to Buck like they used to—he knew that. His anger hadn’t yet simmered down to a level where he wasn’t going to say something he didn’t mean or, worse yet, shove Buck further away. 

His anger had been out of control lately and he’d been struggling. Buck’s return hadn’t made it any easier as he hadn’t been able to sneak out to any of the fights that Lena had shown him to blow off some steam for several days. This morning, he’d had to hold onto his temper with both hands when Cristopher had asked if Buck was ever going to come for dinner again. 

He needed time.  

Time to figure out how to get over this anger that he barely had control over. That outburst he’d had at the grocery store before Buck came back?  It had made him certain that the best policy was going to be avoiding Buck until he could figure out how to be just a coworker because leaving himself vulnerable again wasn’t an option. 

He’d already said so many things he regretted—that had leaked out in moments of weakness. Barbed comments. Nasty things. Thoughts that he’d normally never give voice to. 

Eddie knew he just couldn’t keep leaving himself vulnerable to people in his life abandoning him or betraying him.  Shannon. Buck. His parents. All of them had emotionally wounded him for a time but he’d gotten his shit together enough to keep his priorities clear.

Cristopher was priority numero uno. 

Always. 

Eddie was on clean up duty and collecting the plates and detritus of the meal when he heard steps on the stairs. Expecting Hen or maybe Chimney, he didn’t turn around as he dumped dishes into the dishwasher, sink running as he’d placed a few things in it to soak. “You came to help?”

The throat clearing made him look.  Two men stood behind him, both with badges on their belts that were visible but in street clothes.  A white man and a black man. The white man was maybe ten years older than Eddie and he had the lazy stance that made the bruises on Eddie’s knuckles hurt—all the deadly grace of a trained fighter who was always ready for a fight.  Something about the man just screamed military but the scruff on his cheeks and hair was too long to be just a regular soldier.  The black man was all contained intensity but his expression was friendly. Both of them had enough muscle to make Eddie feel sized up and found wanting. 

The black man looked vaguely familiar but the white guy didn’t ring any bells. “Can I help you?” He asked as he grabbed a towel to dry his hands. 

“I’m looking for your captain,” the black man spoke, voice even and reasonable. Non-threatening and designed to put whoever he was speaking to at ease. “He around?”

“He’s in his office—probably finishing up the paperwork from the last call,” Eddie told them, wondering who they were but pointing with his chin towards Bobby’s office door that was open just a sliver. Cops looking for Bobby meant something was up or it would just be Athena wanting to talk to her husband. 

The two didn’t say anything and just turned and headed directly for Bobby’s office and entered after a single knock.  The door didn’t close completely as it rarely ever got shut and the hinges probably needed some attention. 

Eddie didn’t mean to overhear but he could clearly hear Bobby greeting the two men and introducing himself when he shut off the water faucet, eyes locked on the mostly closed door. 

“—Bobby Nash. What can I do for you?”

“....Evan Buckley.....” was less clear except for the familiar name. Wasn’t the black man speaking this time—voice was different so had to be the white guy. At Buck’s name, Eddie’s interest was piqued and he carefully set down the casserole pan to soak and began re-drying his hands but taking a few steps closer to Bobby’s office. What did these guys want with Buck?

“...so he’s off duty as of 1900?” The black man asked.

“Yes.  I’m uncertain if he had plans this evening,” Bobby responded. “If you could give me more information I might be able to help.  Buck has been part of this firehouse for almost three years and all of us are as close as family.”

There was a pause before the white guy spoke up. “We’re unable to disclose more information at this point, Captain.  If we have more questions we’ll be in touch.”

“Of course.” 

Bobby sounded neutral but Eddie’s mind was racing.  Questions?  What sort of questions?  From two cops that weren’t familiar? What trouble had Buck landed in?  Eddie’s heart rate picked up and his hands twisted in the towel. 

Belatedly, he realized he needed to look busy and attempted to look like he was wiping down the table that still had a few dirty dishes on it as the door to Bobby’s office swung fully open. They had to pass past Eddie to reach the stairs and the white man paused, looking Eddie up and down. 

“You should tape your hands next time,” he commented before leaving, his boots making hardly any sound.  He walked like some of the special warfare operators Eddie had encountered in Afghanistan. 

Eddie’s eyes dropped to his hands. The bruising on his hands was pretty obvious what it’d come from.  Whoever that dude was he was observant and alarms were going off in the back of Eddie’s head. 

And they’d needed to talk to Buck—about something. Something they couldn’t disclose the details of to Bobby—Buck’s boss. 

The anger he’d been preoccupied with had vanished and been replaced by anxiety. 

Was Buck in trouble?

***

What about is gone 

And it really won’t be so long

Sometimes it feels like a heart is no place

To be singing from at all

 

Buck

Buck’s hands were white knuckled he was gripping the bottle of beer so tightly that he wouldn’t drop it over the edge despite the fine tremor in his hands that he’d been noticing more often as of late when he wasn’t at work. He’d grabbed a six-pack on the way home from shift and immediately headed up to the roof of his apartment building just wanting to be away from everybody—that way he couldn’t be ignored or found easily. 

The loneliness was the worst of the consequences for his actions. It tore at him along with the casual freezing out that his family coworkers had perfected over the last six weeks. Or if they weren’t talking to him they were critiquing his work—which was almost worse but at least then they were speaking to him. 

He’d thought getting his job back and dropping the lawsuit would have smoothed things over.  Healed the hurts on both sides as he was giving up everything to have his job and family back. 

Buck had been so spectacularly and fantastically wrong about that and now he had to deal with the consequences. 

My House, My Rules.

Bobby’s ultimatum sat heavy in his belly, the beer not mixing well with the emptiness within Buck. He’d had next to no appetite and it wasn’t like anyone was happy sharing their meals with him. The number one rule the last six weeks had been to avoid the kitchen when anyone else was there—especially Bobby.  Bobby would let him have a bite but would pointedly leave instead of eating whatever he’d prepared if Buck was there. Or worse—he’d stay, inhale his food and then leave the dishes for Buck to clean up without looking at him other than to give him the order to clean up. 

Growing up, Buck had learned over time which actions would get him backhanded by his father but at least that had been some sort of attention even if had been negative. What was worse was the uncaring, casual ignoring or silence. The way that at times he’d felt like a ghost in his own family home, afraid of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing or just being noticed.  He’d sworn to himself that he’d never do that again—that he was a person too and deserved to have  a real family like everyone else. A real family. A normal one like everyone else. That he wasn’t... that he wasn’t unlovable. Unwanted. 

He had to believe that. Abby had loved him—at least somewhat even if it hadn’t worked out like he’d wanted it to.  Maddie said she did but she was too preoccupied right now and was angry with him too.  And Eddie....

God Eddie. 

Buck took a deep pull off the lukewarm beer, trying not to let loose the sob that felt stuck in his throat. 

Eddie hated him now.  Wouldn’t let him near Christopher. Because Buck had proven that he was just as bad as Shannon in Eddie’s eyes. Buck had chosen his job over Eddie and Christopher. Had told private things to the lawyer that had been used against him.  Painful, private things that had only been shared between them in an intimacy that was more than what Eddie had shared with Shannon. 

Buck had betrayed Eddie in his eyes. 

Retrospectively, Buck should have anticipated this. He knew Eddie—better than almost anyone. They had, after a brief rocky introduction, just clicked into sync with each other so much that Buck had wondered why he hadn’t always been with Eddie by his side—two halves of a whole. The snapping of that link, the falling out of synchrony, the silence between them no longer full of nonverbal communication had been deafening to him.  The way Eddie held himself so they never even casually brushed against one another, the way he didn’t let Buck see what was going on... the withholding of the physical and mental connection made him feel like he was slowly emotionally bleeding out rather than from the blood thinners he was taking. 

The sound of a fire engine’s siren echoed through the night, overpowering the constant sound of LA traffic from the nearby highway. The smell on the air tonight was clean but Buck thought he could still scent the smoke that had covered the team as they’d returned from another call out that he hadn’t been allowed to go on.  He’d spent the end of his shift cleaning out the truck and ambulance while everyone else had showered and sat down for a well deserved meal he’d thrown into the oven while they’d been gone. 

Today had been just like every other day as of late.  The act of cleaning was meditative and metaphorical. Maybe he could scour away his mistakes like he did the dirt and grime that came from doing their jobs. 

A job that used to mean everything to him. A job that he took pride in. That was part of his identity—his core. 

A job that felt like it was killing him now. 

He’d chased every possibility to get back to here but had ended up with only the ashy remains of his former life breaking apart in his hands. His hands that were a liability—he was only allowed out on calls that were almost guaranteed to not be anything other than routine. No danger. No need for his skills. 

He was given the same tasks a probie would get but none of the mentoring or camaraderie. 

After all, Bobby had reminded him—his house, his rules. And it was more than obvious that Bobby still didn’t trust Buck to stay safe or out of trouble.  Buck was only allowed back for the bare minimum so he couldn’t file another lawsuit—even if that went unsaid. Chimney and Hen had, at first, tried to minimally help him out but he had bristled when Eddie made a comment about how they were helping out the traitor and he’d asked them to not interfere. 

Chimney and Hen had backed off and rarely sought him out anymore, avoiding his eyes when he entered rooms, avoiding any possibility of confrontation.  He’d asked for space—not to be ignored completely but that is how they both took it. Choosing to follow Bobby’s example of non-interaction. Buck had debated trying to talk to them but didn’t know how to start the conversation over since things had gone on this long like this. 

But today?  Today had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

He’d overheard Bobby inviting Eddie to bring Cristopher for a family dinner night, saying that everyone else had already accepted. 

Everyone except Buck—who hadn’t been invited. 

He was no longer included in the family and it had hit him all at once, his chest seizing up tight and making it hard to suck air in and out as he mopped the floor just around the truck from where Eddie and Bobby were talking. 

Breathe Buck, he told himself. In and out. 

You would think after six weeks of being shut out that it wouldn’t hurt so much to be excluded from just one more event. One more gathering. One more family meal. But this one? It’d felt like he’d been gutted with one of their saws, the blade dull from use and just slowly tearing him apart. 

Somehow he’d finished the last hour and a half of his shift without having to speak to anyone and, when the time was up, just faded away after changing out of his uniform. He hadn’t bothered to say goodnight to anyone as the rest of the team had been eating the casserole he’d made and he could hear their raucous discussion echoing through the fire house. 

He felt so cold despite the warm air temperatures and the alcohol hitting his blood stream.  Emptying the beer, he opened another one—his third and half of what he’d bought. He wanted to be drunk—to black out. To feel numb. Anything but how he felt right now.  The beer normally wouldn’t have done it but he was feeling distinctly tipsy—he’d lost more weight than he should have. 

But who was there that would care?  It’d been years since he’d had a team that he thought had his back no matter what he’d do...

There was a light noise from someone’s feet stepping on the seam where the roof had been patched—Buck only knew about it since he’d been spending so much time up here. Craning his neck, he was shocked when he saw who it was. 

“Steve?”  Buck would not later admit to how much his voice had cracked in disbelief.  Steve should be a couple thousand of miles away in the land of pineapple and hula. 

“Hey kid,” was the gruff greeting as Steve sat next to him pointedly gesturing to the six pack.  “There one in there for me?”

Nodding dumbly, Buck fumbled and handed one to Steve.  Steve looked good, dressed in civies but moving with the swaggering ease of a long time operator.   “What’re you doing here?”

Giving a twist to remove the cap, Steve took a sip and made a face.  There were more lines from squinting in the sun than there had been the last time Buck saw him—more laugh lines too like life had been kind to his former commander.  The ease in the other man’s body language immediately made Buck want to relax—Steve had his back and was here like an old security blanket. “You need better taste in beer.”

Opening and closing his mouth at the non-answer, Buck’s thoughts were a bit slower than usual. “Sorry—not all of us love longboards.  Plus it’s LA,” he gestured to the city around them.  “We don’t drink a lot of Hawaiian beer here.”

“Good point,” Steve allowed, taking another drink. “Not terrible but not a longboard.”

Picking at the label of his generic, Mexican brand beer that he’d bought because it was cheap and the first thing he’d seen in the beer fridge at the store. Buck dropped his eyes to his hands.  He’d been biting his nails due to his anxiety levels being so high and they were down to almost nothing, his cuticles cracking from the abuse. Steve didn’t elaborate, letting the silence stretch out between them and making Buck feel compelled to try and fill it. “Not that I’m not glad to see you—because I am....but why are you here?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Buck could see that Steve was studying him.  Dark eyes were taking in each inch of Buck and making a detailed assessment—he wasn’t going to be able to hide much of his situation from Steve and Buck idly wondered how many minutes it would take for Steve to get everything out of him.  It’d been years since he’d seen Smooth Dog—his old commander. Four years now?  He’d spent about five or six months bartending around South America between the navy and attending fire school. Buck had been young to make it through BUD/S and he’d not re-upped when it came to committing to the navy.  

He knew his old commander had been supportive of his decision but Buck’d been at loose ends when he got out and hadn’t really kept in close touch after Freddie had died and then Steve had gotten out himself and gone into the Reserves—Buck may be out of the loop but even he had heard about that whole disaster and how Steve’s father had been killed because of a mission. They still sent each other the occasional odd email once or twice a year but that was about it. Buck had left that life behind him and Steve and the others had also seemingly moved on.

Buck could see that he had a pattern developing. Get close to someone and then leave—either them or himself. He hadn’t left the 118 yet but it definitely felt like they had left him emotionally.  It was like they’d broken up with him and he was the ex-boyfriend who wouldn’t get a clue that he was unwanted now.

But what was Steve doing her? And more specifically why now of all times?

“I got notice that you’d been in some trouble—thought I’d check in on you,” Steve said after taking another drink of his beer. 

Buck’s shoulders hunched protectively and he set his beer aside to have his hands free, waving them in denial. “I’m fine.”

The unimpressed look on Steve’s face said that Buck wasn’t really being too convincing. “I heard about the lawsuit—and the whole bomb and ladder thing.  Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m back to work now,” Buck insisted, aware his lower lip was trembling so he bit it to hid the tremor. “Really I’m fine.”

Steve was silent for a few moments. “Are you?  Are you really—because don’t take this wrong but you look terrible Buckaroo.  Freddie would find a way to come back from the dead and kill me if I believed that.”

He wasn’t going to cry in front of his former commander—someone who he’d always respected and years ago would have counted as his older brother who had been closer and more loyal than blood. The use of his nickname coming from Steve... and the mention of Freddie...it felt like one of the last tentative strings holding him together broke and he knew he was crying and burying his face in his hands, trying to hide his weakness. 

The soft swear and noise of beer bottles being set aside were the only warning before Buck was being engulfed in a warm hug and his face tucked into the angle of Steve’s shoulder and neck.  He went willingly and just gave in—between the alcohol, lack of calories and sleep his defenses were severely weakened.

The quiet shushing noises and calls of his name were soothing and he just let loose.  One of Steve’s hands was tangled in his hair as it cupped his head and he took it as permission to hide in the other man’s neck.  The scent of soap, ocean salt and cologne was familiar from years ago and it settled something in him as his own hands twisted in Steve’s shirt to anchor him. The warmth of a man that he trusted, that had never let him down when so many others had. 

“I’ve got you kid. We’re going to get you through all this—whatever it is,” Steve promised him, rocking slightly. Buck didn’t have the energy to reply, just burrowed into Steve like a child—exhausted and defenses down. Instinctively he knew that he could trust his former commander and that nothing had changed since the day Buck had left the seals for a civilian life. 

“I’ve got you Buckaroo.  I’ve got you....”

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Options and Interventions

Summary:

Steve worries and plans. Buck is borrowed. Eddie is distraught. Danny meets Steve’s “nephew”.

Notes:

Warnings this chapter: Eddie is sleep deprived and emotional, more Buck emotional whump.

Chapter Two: Options and Interventions

 

Well I was sitting, waiting, wishing

You believed in superstitions

Then maybe you’d see the signs

But lord knows that this world is cruel

 

Steve

It didn’t take long for Buck to fall asleep in Steve’s arms. 

The younger man that he viewed like a kid brother hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d seen him but the changes that Steve did note were worrying.  The angles of Buck’s face were too razor sharp and through the thin t-shirt Steve could feel spaces between the ribs that shouldn’t be there, the sharp curve of elbow and thinness to the wrists making them appear more delicate than they should be. The dark bruises under the eyes and the chill to the skin spoke to too much stress and too little sleep along with the fine tremor in the muscles as Buck’s body tried to keep him warm in the night air. 

Buck looked like he’d been in country on a mission for months and was on his last legs—not like he’d been living at home with access to all the food and drink he could need.   California wasn’t the sandbox. 

Buck had not been taking care of himself—and Steve had been one of the people responsible for drilling that lesson into the younger man until it stuck.  That sort of lesson only broke down in severe circumstances—circumstances which Steve still needed Buck to fully illuminate for him. Steve had stopped at the firehouse just long enough to ascertain that Buck wasn’t on duty before heading for his home address with a bad taste in his mouth from the brief interaction he’d had with a Captain Robert Nash. 

That other firefighter he’d spoken with had also had marks on his hands from fighting—what exactly was going on at Buck’s work?  Suspicion slowly burned in the back of Steve’s mind but concern pushed it down. 

Buck hadn’t stopped shivering and it began to worry Steve. Managing to stand with a limp Buck in his arms, he slung Buck’s too slight weight over his shoulder and then grabbed the carton of beer with his free hand. Hondo held open the door to the stairs, having just stayed out of sight for Buck’s breakdown. 

“You got him?” he asked Steve quietly, eyes worried.

“I got him.  Get the doors.”

Buck had left his apartment door unlocked with his keys on the kitchen counter.  Steve and Hondo had already briefly looked over the place before Steve had Chin ping Buck’s cell phone location which had led them to the roof. 

Steve made a mental note to thank Chin later as he entered the loft apartment, Hondo following him and locking the door after them so they wouldn’t have any unannounced visitors. Buck’s apartment was spotless and neat, decorations and furniture running on the sparse yet functional side. Noting the bed was in the loft, Steve decided the couch would be better—he didn’t want a drunk Buck falling down the stairs and re-injuring himself. 

Carefully setting Buck down, hand cradling the younger man’s head so it didn’t hit the armrest and then rearranging the long limbs so he appeared comfortable. Hondo had retried the duvet and a pillow from the bed up in the loft and they tucked it around him. The shivering slowed and then stopped, making something release in Steve’s chest as he knelt next to the couch unsure what else to do. 

Hondo’s frown when he met Steve’s eyes was troubled. “I thought firefighter houses were like extended family.  Who’s been watching out for the kid?”

“I don’t know,” Steve muttered as he carded a hand through Buck’s hair making him snuffle down into the blankets he was cocooned in. “But whoever is supposed to be doing it isn’t doing it very well.”

“I’m going to make a few calls,” Hondo told Steve before stepping into the kitchen to give him a semblance of privacy. 

Steve frowned at Buck.  When he’d called Hondo back he’d gotten just a few more details.  Hondo had overheard randomly a mention about a firefighter dropping his lawsuit against the city and LAFD along with Buck’s name. Knowing the kid through a few nights out in LA when they’d been passing through while with the navy, Hondo had done a bit more investigating and asked his SIC to make further inquiries while he was busy with Steve. 

The information was bare bones but it seemed that Buck had won a wrongful termination lawsuit and then turned down the settlement in favor of return to full employment with the LAFD.  Both Hondo and Steve knew what that meant—Buck would have a tough time returning to the same station as most who returned to their jobs after these types of lawsuits ended up regretting it. Hostile work environments were common and there was little recourse for someone wanting to reintegrate when their coworkers were against it. 

The offered monetary settlement had been impressive but it didn’t surprise Steve that Buck had turned them down. Buck—in every email or phone call—had lived and breathed his new career. The excited way he’d talked about the first few rescues when Steve had been checking in on him more regularly had been rapturous. The kid had found his true calling and Steve had relaxed a bit and not followed him as closely.

That had been a mistake, evidently. 

He wouldn’t be repeating it. 

The silence and no updates since Christmas, in retrospect, had rung all the alarm bells in Steve’s mind and he was glad he’d followed his instincts to know he should check up in person instead of simply calling.  Buck had a habit of downplaying any difficulties he encountered and he’d never outgrown the habit. If Steve had just called... Buck would have denied his current situation.  Kid’s pride wouldn’t let him do any different and he was just as mule-headed as Steve when it came to saying that he was “fine”. 

The hollowness to Buck’s cheeks and the paleness of his skin in the dim light from the kitchen made Steve’s hackles rise. Buck shouldn’t look like this.  He let his anger simmer but he didn’t have a direction to force it in yet.  He had suspicions but no confirmation—Buck would have to give the details of what had happened. 

Hearing a soft whimper, Steve checked for the source of discomfort. Buck’s face was slightly scrunched and there was a few jerking movements to his hands as if he were fighting something but trying to hold himself still. Moving closer, Steve resumed running his hands through Buck’s close shorn hair and letting his fingers comb the hair. “Shh... I’ve got you.  Smooth Dog is here and I’ve got your six.  It’s okay and you’re safe kid,” he repeated over and over. 

It seemed to work and Buck quieted down after a minute, face smoothing back into sleep. The kid looked so young like this and made Steve feel old and tired. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket with a text.

Did you find your nephew?

Danno was obviously still miffed about how little Steve had told him—going so far as to keep up the illusion that Buck was his nephew despite knowing it was untrue.  Steve’s vague explanation of going to check on Buck hadn’t gained him any points with Danny nor had his explanation that he was leaving Danny in charge of 5-0 until he got back. Danny had been ready to come with him and hadn’t taken being left behind very well. The memory of the last time he’d left Danny behind and in charge had fouled the air between them when Steve had left—but at least he’d told Danny he was leaving this time. He hadn’t repeated that mistake. 

I did.  He’s okay for the moment but I have some things I need to do, Steve texted back. 

The response was immediate and the dots showed that Danny was typing more. 

For the moment?  What things?

Steve sighed, glancing down at Buck again who was out like a light. The kid needed this sleep.  His phone buzzed with another incoming text.  

Are you sure you don’t need me to come to LA?

Smiling at Danny’s offer, Steve replied that he’d talk to him in the morning and he was looking at getting settled for the night. Hopefully Danny would take that as him checking into a hotel or staying with Hondo.  Steve wasn’t sure how to explain this over text and he didn’t want to call Danny if Buck was asleep—which he desperately was in need of and Steve shouldn’t disrupt it. 

The quiet murmur of Hondo’s voice from the kitchen was intermittent and Steve got the impression that he was getting information from Deacon. Steve was curious as to what the other officer had been able to unearth but he was too tired from the flight and finding Buck to get up at the moment. Sitting down with his feet spread out away from the couch and his back resting against it, he leaned back so he could keep up with stroking Buck’s hair. 

Danny had always told him that from the moment they’d met that he thought Steve was a touch starved Neanderthal with the prevailing theory being that it was something seals were taught.  Given how Buck practically curled up into his touch, Steve thought that Danny might have a point there. 

Buck was such a bright personality and Steve could remember how he’d used to flinch from even casual touches given by Freddie who’d made it a personal mission to mold their newest frogman into a true seal. Freddie had hated how Buck seemed to brace himself for a hit each time he just casually patted him on the back or slung an arm around his shoulders in a congratulatory hug. They’d never outright asked Buck but they’d had their suspicions about his childhood. 

Another symptom had been that he rarely asked for help when he was struggling but usually would pause, reassess and then complete things on his own. Which was good when you’re in the field and help is a long ways away but was a problem when it came to minor things when surrounded by people able and willing to help. It was hard to watch the kid struggle to accept help but he’d been doing well by the time he left Steve’s command. The loss of Freddie had been terrible for Steve but he knew it had been just as tough for Buck. 

Danny had been after Steve for a long time about therapy—which he still didn’t think he needed despite Danny’s remarks to the contrary—but maybe it would benefit Buck. Steve wasn’t sure what was going on but Buck’s mental state seemed to have deteriorated.  He’d seen a lot of good men—and a few woman—broken with things like PTSD and depression. Steve knew that therapy could help and he silently vowed to make sure Buck at least had options. 

Hondo’s steps were audible on purpose as he left the kitchen to join Steve—his calls done.  He didn’t say anything, just looked with concern at Buck. 

“What did you find out?” Steve asked, keeping his voice low so not to wake Buck.

“Not much more.  Deacon talked with the city’s lawyers—said the kid was adamant about wanting his job back and ignored his lawyer’s advice.  When they agreed to re-hire him he turned down the settlement in exchange for returning to active status.  The lawyer said that they had the most trouble getting an agreement with his Captain.  The man was very concerned about putting Buck in the field.”

“Did the lawyer know why?”

Hondo’s gaze was heavy where they rested on Buck. “He didn’t want to tell Deac...”

“But?”

“He implied that the kid was a risk.  His medical status was a risk and the Captain didn’t want him getting hurt again.”

Steve frowned,   Buck was underweight and stressed but that wasn’t a reason—it was an outcome. Kid might have a bad habit of throwing himself into things but that wasn’t a medical problem.  “Did he?”

“He also chatted with Kid’s surgeon who said that he was one of his success stories.  Kid should have a permanent limp but his progress was good and he was back to full activity. Surgeon said he was cleared for duty from his standpoint.”

“So why the holdup?”

Hondo shrugged.  “Deacon’s still looking into things but probably won’t have anything further tonight—I told him to go home to his family and we’d pick things up in the morning.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment. Hondo’s relationship with his second was, in many ways, a lot like his with Danny albeit a lot less argumentative. Deacon Kay was a good man and had been Hondo’s partner for almost a decade now and they often functioned as two parts of a whole. If Deacon hadn’t been able to chase any new information out then there probably wasn’t much more for them to find without legal orders from a judge. “Meet me back here in the morning?”

“I’ll bring breakfast,” Hondo easily agreed. “You going to be okay with him?”

“We’ll be fine.”  Steve would make sure and Danno would help he thought as he continued to card his fingers through the kid’s close shorn blonde hair. He was sure Danno was going to adopt Evan on sight. 

***

Ah, maybe you’ve been through this before

but it’s my first time, so please ignore

The next few lines ‘cause they’re directed at you

 

I can’t always be waiting, waiting on you

I can’t always be playing, playing your fool

 

Buck

He couldn’t remember falling asleep on his couch or getting down off the roof. How much beer had he drunk last night?  He had a mild headache but other than a dry mouth he felt better and more rested than he had in ages. As he shook the cobwebs from his brain and stared at the back of his couch he remembered he’d had this weird ass dream that his old commander—Lt Commander Steve McGarrett—had shown up and been supportive. 

Which made no sense since he hadn’t talked to his old commander in months. 

But maybe the dream of ‘ole Smooth Dog being here for him had made him able to actually sleep instead of waking up every five minutes?  Buck felt a twinge of regret—he did miss his old seal team but it hadn’t been the same since Freddie had died and they’d all dispersed to different corners of the world.  Something had changed in his commander with the loss of Buck’s mentor.  Looking back, he kind of wondered if Steve and Freddie had something like he’d almost had with Eddie...which he wasn’t going to think about. 

This was a weird time to be thinking of his seal days which were done and dusted.  He couldn’t talk about them mostly anyway with civilians and he didn’t particularly want any of of his current coworkers to know what he used to do.  He couldn’t go back and change any of his decisions—Buck knew that.  Oh he’d learned that there were no do overs—the lawsuit and his current situation were great examples of that lesson.  The definition of insanity was doing the same things over and over again and expecting a different outcome—he remembered Freddie telling him that. 

He was going to be so stiff once he tried to move and the thought of how much stretching he’d have to do made him want to just curl up under the blanket and stay here all day.  

However, that wasn’t an option.  He had a late shift today—working 1400 to midnight.

He should get moving—he had stuff he should do. Adult things like grocery shopping and laundry. Housework. Normal, adult things. 

But the warning in his leg of how stiff he was going to be made him pause. 

“Kid?”

Buck startled, arms flailing as he tried to turn over and his feet tangled in the blankets.  He would have fallen off the low slung couch if it wasn’t for the pair of hands that stopped him. “Commander?” He asked, voice pitched embarrassingly high.

Lt Commander Steven McGarrett watched him flail in amusement, his lips quirked up but not outright laughing at Buck’s predicament. There was a touch of grey in Steve’s hair that was new but he was tanned and relaxed, movements smooth as he helped Buck move upright.  It seemed that Buck’s hazy dream from last night was actually here. Trying to push away the helpful hands, Buck coughed to hide his embarrassment. 

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself Buckaroo,” Steve chided gently. 

Plucking at the duvet that belonged on his bed, Buck dropped his eyes.  The flood of shame at Steve’s observation made his shoulders hunch inward. “It’s been a rough year.”

Steve’s touch to his jaw guided Buck to look up.  The worry etched on Steve’s face made Buck’s insides curl but he tried to straighten up.  Steve had been his first work-father and the man had instilled most of Buck’s discipline whereas his birth family hadn’t. He didn’t want to disappoint Steve like he had Bobby. 

“Wanna tell me about it?”  Steve’s voice was soft and cajoling, nonjudgmental. He hadn’t moved his hand which was holding Buck’s face so he couldn’t look away.  Buck was both mortified by being forced to meet Steve’s eyes and wanted to just melt into a touch that was comforting.  It’d been so long since someone had touched him in more than just a clinical, medical way. 

“I’m fine now,” Buck insisted.  Steve would be disappointed if he told him how things had spun so much out of his control. Buck really did have his shit together.  Mentally he told himself he was back to work and he was dealing with it—would deal with it.  He was tough and just had a bad day yesterday. He’d get through this. The motto of “the only easy day was yesterday” had taught him to regroup.  

He could do this.  He just needed to remember that. Put yesterday’s disappointments behind him. Rebuild his walls and take cover. 

The smell of coffee cut through his internal musings and he realized he’d been silent a bit too long.  Steve’s look of amusement as he held out the cup of coffee made Buck duck his head.  He took the proffered cup without comment, the hot scalding liquid with the slight oily edge to it from the added butter—bulletproof coffee, a seal team staple. He hadn’t had his coffee this way in years and the memory of Steve and Freddie introducing him to it caused another sharp pain in his chest. 

He’d missed the camaraderie of his team so much—he’d thought he’d found it at the 118 but it had proven to not be the same. 

“You know it’s okay to not be okay, right?  Danno is always telling me that,” Steve said hesitantly as he took a seat on the edge of the couch cushions next to Buck’s feet. The older man stared into his own coffee cup, giving Buck time to gather his thoughts but was watching him out of the corner of his eye.  This version of his commander being father-like made Buck miss what his relationship used to be with Bobby which, in retrospect, he realized he may have used to replace Steve and Freddie’s presence in his life. 

God—he’d replicated his old seal team at the 118.  Bobby was a mishmash of Steve and Freddie while Athena was definitely more like Freddie in his life. Hen was the male version of their old medic—who’d only ever responded to Doc—and Chim reminded him of  Red who’d been his spotter—always giving him shit about his aim like a big brother and getting into trouble with Buck that Steve claimed was giving him gray hair. 

His Buck 1.0 life had been a response to being cut free from the team and needing the physical affection that he’d gotten used to after his relatively touch-free childhood and the only appropriate thing for a single adult non-military male was to date.  You didn’t crowd in next to one another like you would in a fox hole in enemy territory or curl up for warmth like he’d done in multiple countries he couldn’t tell anyone he’d been in because it was classified forty ways from Sunday. Steve and Freddie had introduced casual familiar touch into his life and he’d been starved for it—no wonder he’d gone off the deep end as Buck 1.0. 

“I know,” he finally answered Steve. “It’s just... life.  Gotta live with your choices, right?”

Steve’s hand settled on his bad ankle, the touch like a hot brand as the fingers curled around it and felt the surgical scars that seemed hypersensitive all of the sudden. “Kid.”

He wasn’t going to cry.  He knew he must have cried last night if it wasn’t a dream—and he still wasn’t clear exactly how much of what he remembered had actually happened. “I made my bed and I’m going to have to lie in it.”  He took a sip of his coffee to avoid looking at Steve.

“Evan.” Shit.  He was in first name territory. Steve never called him by his first name unless he was in deep trouble.  It was always Kid, Buck, Buckaroo, Bucky or any of another half dozen nicknames that Buck got called by but never his given first name. 

“I mean does it suck that I hurt my leg? Yeah it does. But I’m back to work so it’s all better. Just a few bumps in the road like a blood clot and—“ he picked up steam as he talked, trying to steamroll any objection Steve would have.

“Blood clot? What blood clot?” 

Shit shit shit. 

Steve hadn’t known about the PE. 

Buck fiddled with his coffee cup. “I had a pulmonary embolism—a PE.  I’m on blood thinners.”

There was a brief pause and Buck dared to look up at Steve who was looking right at him, concern etched on his face. “Okay... I know enough to know those are bad.  But you were cleared to go back to work?”

“I was.  I just have to be careful—no cuts or anything cause I bleed a lot more than I used to on the meds.”  Buck tried to reassure Steve but he could see the same worries that Bobby had expressed crossing Steve’s mind, displayed freely across his face. Steve was going to see him as a liability—same as Bobby.

Steve tilted his head as he processed the information. “So you just have to be careful?”

Relieved, Buck nodded and let his gaze drop to where Steve’s fingers were still stroking his ankle. “Yes.  Just have to be careful. It’s not really that big of a deal.”

The hand rubbing up and down on his ankle was a huge distraction. It was warm and soothing, the skin underneath the calloused fingers hypersensitive to the touch. He didn’t want Steve to stop. 

He felt pathetic for that thought but he didn’t ask for Steve to stop or pull away. 

“Is the blood thinners a forever thing?”

“I don’t know.  I have to get regular check ups and they decide if they want me to keep on them at each one.”  The doc had been hopeful that eventually he could stop them—that they wouldn’t be for the rest of his life. Truthfully, he had been dreading the answer the last two check ups he’d had.  So far he’d had to keep on them.

He dared another glance at Steve. The muscle in Steve’s jaw jumped as he clenched it in thought. “So you can work—do all the stuff you need to do?”

“Yeah.  I mean,” Buck huffed in frustration and turned so he was looking out at his kitchen to try and calm himself but his eyes darted towards Steve to catch his reaction, “when they let me go on calls I don’t have any restrictions according to my doc.”

Steve looked at him sharply. “When they let you go on calls?”

Shit.  He was slipping and giving Steve more ammunition. Backpedaling, he waved his hands to try and distract Steve and almost spilled hot coffee all over himself. “I mean I go on calls—“

“Just not very many of them.  They’re leaving you behind,” Steve drew an accurate conclusion with a bare minimum of facts and suppositions. Buck knew that Steve would understand how much being left behind hurt. And it wasn’t necessary—Buck was cleared for duty. He just needed to stay away from sharp objects when able. It wasn’t that big of a deal.... really. 

He absolutely hated being left behind. Being excluded. He didn’t feel like part of the team most days anymore. Steve couldn’t learn about how he’d also become a social pariah amongst the members of the 118. That would be one disappointment too many to reveal. 

“I go out on calls,” Buck added, defensively and took a gulp of his coffee that was still on the too hot side of things. Maybe if he just drowned himself in his coffee he’d be able to stop spilling his guts to Steve. He couldn’t look at the other man—the tightness in his chest becoming almost unbearable like something was trying to escape it. 

“Hey,” Steve called, voice pitched comfortingly low. “Evan.”

Fighting the tremble in his lower lip, Buck finally looked back up at Steve as his former commander waited him out patiently. Steve had a look of tender kindness on his face that made a tremor race through Buck. He internally repeated over and over that he wouldn’t cry. He was a strong adult who didn’t....

A few tears escaped the corners of his eyes and his next breath was wet sounding as he couldn’t stop the sniffle.

Steve moved and embraced him, the strong arms encircling him and grounding him.  Buck found himself burying his face in Steve’s neck as he silently cried.  He’d been afraid to let anyone—even Maddie—see how much things had been tearing at him.  Even Eddie... he couldn’t ask Eddie to let. him back in. His best friend was still hurt and he hadn’t been able to make amends enough even to see Christopher since he’d returned to work. It’d been so long without a comforting touch...

Steve made shushing noises that shouldn’t have been so comforting but they seemed to unleash the floodgates. That tight sensation in his chest that seemed to want to crawl out of his throat relaxed as he let his tears get absorbed by Steve’s t-shirt that he only could press into with greater insistence as Steve let him hide from the world for just a few minutes and take shelter. 

Maybe ten or more minutes later, Buck finally felt like he was cried out.  Steve was patient, waiting for him to indicate he was ready—Steve had always been like this. Freddie was the mom of the seal family clucking around him and Red like injured chicks but Steve had been the patient father who would wait them out.  Buck had always found it odd that Steve was actually terrible with kids given how well he was able to handle his team.   But then again what did Buck know about normal families?  His hadn’t been for sure. 

Pulling back, Steve let him go. There was still concern on Steve’s face but he wasn’t pressing in like Bobby probably would have pre-blood clot. Sniffling slightly, Buck looked at his hands in discomfort. “So why are you in LA?”

“Hondo called when he heard about the lawsuit. Was surprised I hadn’t already been by.”

Buck winced, fingers threading together to stop himself from fidgeting. “Yeah.... I didn’t think I needed to tell you.  I was handling it.”

The weight of Steve’s hand on his shoulder was warm and comforting. “I know you were... but that doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you even if you don’t need it.”

Buck bit his lip and sniffled a second time, ignoring the slight sting of unshed tears. Steve would always come—he’d just resisted calling as it felt like he was intruding into his old commander’s life. “Thanks,” he finally settled on neutrally. “Thanks Smooth Dog.”

“Always kid,” Buck finally met Steve’s eyes again. There was a slight smile on Steve’s face that was comforting and reassuring. “How do you feel about breakfast?”

Fidgeting under the hand that hadn’t moved, Buck mentally reviewed what was in his fridge and cupboards. “Um... I might have eggs.”

“You cook?” Steve’s eyebrows lifted.  Yeah... Buck may have been banned from cooking as a seal after managing to set a few MREs on fire. 

“I’ve learned a lot of things since you last saw me,” Buck teased, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. “I can cook a few things.” 

He might even have stuff for pancakes since he hadn’t had Christopher over in a while. 

“Show me,” Steve dared. 

A smile broke out on his face.  He could do this. This wasn’t something he’d screw up.

***

Buck had more stuff in his fridge than he’d remembered. Some bacon, eggs and he’d had tomatoes, onion and spinach left over from another dish that he’d forgotten about that were still good to be used. Steve had followed him to the kitchen after calling and telling someone the few things they’d needed to complete breakfast—orange juice and more coffee. Buck hadn’t reached out to Hondo in ages but Steve assured him that the man was coming to breakfast.  

It made Buck uncomfortable to know that Hondo had been here last night and he hadn’t even noticed.  He knew the SWAT officer and had briefly turned him down for a position on his SWAT team when he’d gotten into the fire academy.  Hondo had laughed at him when Buck had informed him that SWAT could be his backup plan if firefighting hadn’t worked out.  Buck hadn’t thought of the offer in ages and suddenly it reminded him that he had other options if he wanted them....

But he didn't’ need them.  He had his job back.  He just needed to figure out what he was going to do to make things better—to fix things. 

The unexpected loud knock at his door startled him as he’d been cutting up the veggies to make omelets. Steve gave him a knowing look and went to answer the door.  

Staring at the vegetables that he’d been massacring, Buck took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders.  He shouldn’t have startled like that—he thought he was done with that. Steve was going to think that he wasn’t as okay as he was if he didn’t get his act together. 

“Do you always knock like that?” Steve groused at whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Sorry—habit. I may knock down too many doors,” said a familiar voice. 

Daniel ‘Hondo’ Harrelson stepped into his apartment. It had a been a while but Buck found himself grinning as he listened to Steve and Hondo compare bad habits they’d developed working in law enforcement vs their respective military experiences.  Steve’s amused jab about SWAT having destroyed Hondo’s stealth skills had Buck silently laughing as he finished dicing the tomatoes. Hondo purposefully stomped as he entered the kitchen, a bag of groceries in his hands.

“Kid? Where do you want this stuff?” Hondo asked as he gave Buck a clap to the shoulder in greeting. 

“What’d you bring?” Buck nosed into the bag in curiosity. A packet of cheese, fresh herbs and a jar of salsa next to a pineapple that made Buck want to laugh as it had obviously been chosen because of Steve. It also looked like there was a loaf of fresh bread for toast and the fancy butter that came from the organic specialty grocery store that was too far away and expensive for Buck to regularly visit but knew that Steve had gushed over the last time he’d been in LA.  

“A bit of this and that—stuff for the picky eater amongst us,” Hondo teased, his elbow finding Steve’s ribs to nudge.  There was an old joke there about pineapple and Steve that Buck didn’t totally get but found himself smiling at their antics irregardless. 

Pouting in mock outrage, Steve sniffed. “You just don’t appreciate truly fresh food. I’ll take care of the pineapple you heathens.”  

Steve rescued the pineapple and then grabbed a clean knife from the rack to begin preparing it with a confident chop of the blade cutting off the spiky top. Buck eyed the bread and decided he’d toast it in the oven rather than the toaster—he liked it better that way—and started his oven. “What do you want on your omelet or are you okay with a quiche?” He asked Hondo as he thought about possible options, already knowing that Steve would eat whatever was put in front of him and Buck had made a pie crust for quiche yesterday before his shift that he hadn’t used yet.

Taking the order, Buck quickly prepped the eggs and added other ingredients for a quiche.  Steve and Hondo watched him cook, talking about nothing but keeping up a steady stream of chatter that was soothing.  Buck mostly just listened to the sounds rather than participating as he concentrated on making the food.  

Quiche mixed, he carefully poured the batter into the pie crust, shaking it slightly so it settled evenly before popping it in the preheated oven. He then reached for a different knife and deftly sliced the loaf of bread lengthwise before putting it on a cooking sheet after placing parchment paper down as a liner—ignoring the verbal jab of how fancy he was being. He had cooking skills and he wanted to show off and impress them with.  He could be a good host. 

“It makes for easier clean up,” Buck explained as he instructed Hondo to melt some of the butter and add chives to it.  He was going for savory not sweet today and he wasn’t going to make avocado toast and give them more ammunition to tease him with that cliche but he wanted to use his skills and impress them—even if it might be a bit of an odd combination since he didn’t have any fruit spread to put on toast.  

Checking the quiche that was in the oven—he left the bread on top of the stove so it was ready to added for a slow method toasting about halfway through. Taking over the butter that Hondo had been mashing into submission, Buck tried to pay more attention to the chatter between the other two. 

“—Danno was giving me a hard time because of the paperwork,” Steve’s grin implied that he really wasn’t that bothered by whatever his work partner had been complaining about.

Hondo’s answering grin was infectious. “Yeah the paperwork burden is terrible.  Don’t tell me you make him do it all? If I was him I’d have chained you to a desk by now to make you do your own fair share.”

Steve mock pouted but his eyes danced with humor. “Danny’s just better at euphemisms and justifications.  Last time I did the paperwork we had the governor’s aide threatening to withhold funding and Danny called me a ‘menace’.”

“You?  A menace?” Hondo jibed back. 

Steve rolled his eyes, looking at Buck for backup.  “Does being a firefighter have as much paperwork?  Surely they let you just take care of things and someone else can write the report?”

Buck shrugged as he absently dumped the cooking tools in the sink to begin cleanup—Bobby had been adamant that you should keep your area clean as you worked.  “I do some but most of it the captain takes care of.”

“See,” Hondo prodded.  “You’re in charge so you should take care of the paperwork.”

Steve rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “Danny’s just better at it.”

Buck found himself snickering, enjoying the back and forth banter.  He’d missed this so much—it seemed like forever since he’d just been able to listen to a good-natured argument.   The argument was interrupted by Steve’s phone vibrating excitedly and marching across the counter with the force of it.  Steve managed to nab it right before it fell off the edge, answering with a clipped, “McGarrett,” without looking at the screen before his posture relaxed and the sing-song cooing of his partner’s name that made Buck’s heart ache, “Danno!”

Buck couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation but Steve’s face did an impressive  screwing up of his eyebrows and puffing of his cheeks in amused consternation.  as he stood to get some privacy. “Danny,” he tried to interrupt whatever was going on but evidently lost as he let loose a squawk of protest and began to grumble into the phone in aborted attempt at stopping whatever his partner was saying. 

Hondo distracted Buck from trying to listen in.  “So how has it been?”

The deceptively neutral tone and arched eyebrow wasn’t fooling Buck at all.  Hondo likely knew almost as much as Steve about his injury and the lawsuit—given he’d been the one to tip Steve off on it.  “It’s been fine,” Buck tried to shut down the line of questions.

“Really?” Hondo drew out the syllables as he took a sip of his coffee.  “That the answer we’re going with?”

Buck’s shoulders hunched slightly before he reminded himself not to give too much away.  Hondo was a trained investigator and interrogator—he likely wasn’t really hiding much at all but Buck had his pride. “It’s better than it was,” he finally offered, swiping a cloth across the counter he’d already cleaned twice. 

“Hmm,” Hondo hummed into his coffee but didn’t drop his gaze from Buck’s.  “You ever  have second thoughts about that job I offered you?”

Buck shrugged. “Sometimes,” he hedged. He hadn’t really thought about it recently but now he was at the reminder. But wouldn’t he just have the same type of problems at SWAT that he did at the 118?  While he did know Hondo he didn’t KNOW him like he did Steve. Was Hondo just offering the job because of Steve? What happened when Buck did something wrong? He didn’t know if things would be any better than they were now.

“Hey,” Hondo’s brows had lowered in concern, his hand encircling Buck’s wrist to pull him out of his thoughts and made him realize he’d been spacing out.  “Whatever you’re thinking—stop.”

Pulling free of the touch, Buck was at a loss of what to do with his hands. “Well if I don’t think I’m just going to screw up again.” He winced at how defensive that came out. “Sorry.”

Hondo frowned, his coffee abandoned as he folded his hands in front of him. “They’ve really done a number on you kid.”

“No they haven’t,” Buck defended reflexively. “I screwed up.”

Hondo paused, carefully picking his next words.  “You know... in my experience there’s usually screw ups on both sides.”

Buck bit back his instinctive defense of his family. Bobby had been the one holding him back and he hadn’t told Buck.... “Maybe,” he allowed finally.

Tilting his head back, Hondo hadn’t stopped looking at him like a puzzle he was figuring out and it made Buck want to squirm even though he knew he wasn’t in danger.

The awkward standoff was interrupted by Steve returning.  He had a big grin on his face, tucking his phone into the holster on his belt. “What?” Buck asked, instantly suspicious.

Steve tucked himself back into the bar stool he’d abandoned, hands curling around his coffee cup that Buck automatically refilled as a good host. “Danno was just updating me.”

“Updating you about what?” Alarm bells were sounding in Buck’s brain. The last time Steve had looked so self-satisfied he’d ended up on a hundred kilometer mud run up and down mountains carrying almost twice his body weight in a country that ended in ‘Stan dodging bullets, RPGs and a winter storm that had come way too early.  He’d nearly frozen all his toes off on that one. 

“Oh I asked him to push the paper work though,” Steve side-eyed Hondo and added, “I told you he was better at the paperwork stuff than I am.”

Hondo snorted into his coffee, pointedly not looking at Buck.

“What paperwork?”  Yeah those weren’t alarm bells it was an air raid siren.

“The temporary transfer paperwork to borrow you.”

What?  Buck’s brain stumbled to a halt trying to understand that last sentence.

“You’re going to borrow me?” Buck internally winced at the high-pitch his voice hit. “Can you even do that?”

Steve looked smug over the rim of his coffee cup.  “Yes. It’s all taken care of.”

“And did you think to ask me if I was okay with this?”  Buck wasn’t okay with this—was he?  Maybe he was... but Steve should have still asked!  Consent was important as Athena always reminded him. 

Steve’s look quelled whatever further arguments Buck might have made. “Evan.”

Buck dropped his gaze to his countertop, biting the inside of cheek before he could say anything else.  There was a fullness feeling in his throat that made it hard to swallow against. 

So far deep inside his head, he hadn’t noticed that Steve had left his seat until he was engulfed in a firm hug.  Steve’s arms were strong as the wrapped around him and pulled his face to hide in the other man’s neck. This was new—Steve had never been as tactile as Freddie but so many hugs in such a short period of time....maybe Steve just knew he needed them or retirement had changed his former commander.  Buck’s brain was still stuck on that Steve wanted him to come with him. 

Steve wanted him. 

He’d felt so unwanted lately...

“Okay,” Buck said into the damp shirt underneath his face.  “I’m in.  You can ‘borrow’ me.”

Steve’s hand curling around the nape of his neck in acknowledgement made something in Buck’s chest unwind.  He felt lighter than he had in a long time like he could finally take a deep breath—the first one in months. 

***

I keep playing your part

But it’s not my scene

Want this plot to twist

I’ve had enough mystery

Keep building it up

But then you’re shooting me down

But I’m already down

 

Eddie

Bobby hadn’t known what to make of the two cops that had visited last night. He’d tried to calm Eddie’s reactionary panic about Buck by saying that the officers didn’t seem interested in Buck that way.  Only that they needed to talk to Buck—and were very vague about their reasons.  The officers hadn’t seemed worried when Bobby hadn’t known Buck’s exact whereabouts so Bobby thought that implied Buck wasn’t involved in anything too exciting—probably just a potential witness rather than a person of interest. 

Eddie didn’t believe that Bobby believed what he was telling him or was purposefully downplaying it. The furrow between his brows and the way he’d kept glancing at his own phone and texting someone—likely Athena—all night made Eddie’s anxiety worsen. If Athena didn’t know anything about why another set of cops was looking for Buck... 

The urge to pace had made sleep impossible. He’d just rolled in his bunk rather than sleep between calls. Eddie couldn’t leave in the middle of shift to check in on Buck and it tore at him. If he could just lay eyes on Buck and know he was fine.... 

Eddie wasn’t blind.  He knew Buck was struggling but he hadn’t known how to reach across the gulf between them lately. Not without somehow making things worse. He didn’t know how to control his anger, keep things inside. He couldn’t make a mistake like he had at the grocery store—Buck would never let him close again if he did that. Eddie didn’t want to hurt Buck again. 

Maybe he could just try texting? That was more under control.  He’d composed five different text messages and then deleted them all unsent. How do you talk to your best friend who you’ve been at odds with for months? It wasn’t that it was awkward—it was more he didn’t even know where to start. ‘Hey Buck, how’s it going’ just didn’t seem like the right first thing to send to the man that tied Eddie’s guts into gordian knots on a daily basis. The absence of their usual banter, the way Eddie had pulled back out of fear of making just everything worse... 

Just after midnight, a new fear had made his guts churn as it occurred to him.  What if Buck was in trouble and he didn’t know because Buck hadn’t asked for help?  What if Buck didn’t think he could tell Eddie because he had been an angry asshole and cut Buck off rather than fight more?  He hadn’t wanted to hurt Buck more—hadn’t wanted to make the silence between them worse. Eddie had been struggling for his control, trying to keep everything from boiling over that even the fights hadn’t fixed things—were just a bandaid to help him keep things inside rather than boiling over. 

He couldn’t hurt Buck and Eddie was terrified he’d lose control.  Coming home from Afghanistan he’d almost lost control twice and this felt like it had then. He was just barely keeping himself in check.  He couldn’t get in screaming fights with Buck like he had with Shannon.  Eddie wouldn’t do that to Buck—he’d rather get himself beaten to a bloody pulp first in the street fights that didn’t stop him but at least gave temporary relief to his anger. 

He was so unreasonably angry all the time. 

He just wanted it to go away so he could try and fix his relationship with his best friend.

Now fear had replaced the anger and it made him feel frozen inside, the fire of his anger extinguished. 

The slow and steady march of the work clock was torture as several small, non-exciting call outs happened but nothing that required a lot of skill as they were routine.  Eddie left the moment he could after shift, barely waiting for the clock to strike noon before shucking his work clothes and switching to a hoodie and jeans. He even mostly obeyed traffic laws on his way over to Buck’s apartment.  

If Eddie could just see Buck, talk to him.... maybe he’d know what to say. How to bridge the gap between them. Eddie just needed to lay eyes on Buck and know that he was okay. That he wasn’t in trouble.  That he was safe. 

Then maybe he could breathe. 

His mind just kept replaying Buck’s name like a mantra. 

Buck...Buck.... Buck... Buck.....Evan...

Please be okay—Eddie added like a prayer. 

Arriving at the apartment complex, Eddie practically flew up the stairs despite having been awake for going on twenty-eight hours straight. Reaching the top floor, he ducked down the hallway to Buck’s apartment and drew himself up, taking a deep breath.  His heart beat was fast and he couldn’t stop the feeling that each breath was too tight but his hand didn’t shake when he rapped firmly on the door, fingers already playing with the key Buck had given him. 

It wasn’t Buck who answered the door. 

Taller than Eddie, this wasn’t either of the men who’d come looking for Buck last night. Tall and lean, bearded and classically handsome in that distinguished, square jawed, silver fox way with an intensity to his dark eyes that pierced through Eddie. The man was wearing tactical pants and had a badge clipped onto his belt but he also had an emblem over his left chest—Los Angeles Police Department SWAT. 

Dios. What was SWAT doing in Buck’s apartment? 

“Can I help you?” the man asked, cocking one eyebrow but otherwise studying Eddie across the threshold. His tone was measured, assessing and calm.  Business-like. 

“Is Buck home?” Eddie asked, unsure what else he could say and resisting the urge to press past the man into Buck’s home. 

“No.  Should I tell him you stopped by?” Was the mild reply, giving noting away. 

Eddie’s tongue was thick in his mouth. “Yeah.  Tell him Eddie wanted to talk to him.”

“Eddie??” the man prompted, asking for his last name.

“I’m the only Eddie he knows.”  He wasn’t giving this guy his last name.  If the man talked to Buck then Buck would know.  Otherwise there was no reason for the man to pry.  Eddie would try texting Buck—he didn’t like this.  This guy shouldn’t be in Buck’s apartment who hadn’t even given his own name.  “I’m sorry,” Eddie leaned forward, “What’s your name and why are you in my best friend’s apartment?”

The unnamed man leaned forward, putting his arm across the door to purposefully bar Eddie from trying to get past him.  “I didn’t give it.”

“Well yeah?  Who are you?”  Hostility and anger started to leak into his voice. The anger that had been suppressed by anxiety had returned.  Maybe Buck was here and this guy just wasn’t telling Eddie the truth.  “How do I know that Buck isn’t here?  Is he okay?  Buck!”

The man grabbed Eddie before he could try to rush past him, his grip strong as he effectively pinned Eddie in a textbook perfect police maneuver against the opposite wall from the door. This guy was built like a brick shithouse—just like Buck—and had probably two or so inches in height and twenty pounds on Eddie that was mainly muscle. Trying to get out of the hold, the man grunted and then pushed Eddie more firmly into the wall. “How about we try this again, Eddie.  Buck isn’t here and I don’t think he needs anyone yelling at him right now.  So how about you calm down and think for a minute?”

Eddie glared at the man who didn’t have so much as a hair out of place but did have a slight strain to his muscles from holding him still. The grip was firm but the man hadn’t hurt him to pin him. “Buck isn’t here?  He’s safe? Not in trouble?” He finally asked.

The other man cocked his head, studying Eddie for a moment before he slowly nodded and relaxed his grip. “He really isn’t here but he’s safe and not in any trouble.”

Eddie pulled himself fully away from the man to put some space between them.  He briefly looked at the open door and didn’t see anyone else in Buck’s apartment. Bitting his lips, he looked back towards the SWAT officer who hadn’t stepped that far away.  While he could probably make it into Buck’s apartment but it seemed like the guy was telling the truth. “Why are you in his apartment?”

“Buck is going to be gone for a while.  I was asked to clean out the fridge for him,” the man offered after a pause.

“Gone for a while?” Eddie’s eyebrows and voice rose in disbelief. “Where is he going?”  Why would Buck have this guy doing this?  Eddie and Maddie both had keys to Buck’s place and would be the logical persons to ask. And Buck would tell them if he was going somewhere. 

Right?

“It was short notice,” the man answered evasively, crossing his arms over his chest.  “I’m sure you can text or email him and Buck will get back to you when he can.”

None of this was making sense—Eddie wanted to believe that Buck wasn’t in trouble but his heart was jumping in his chest it was beating so fast. Something was wrong with Buck even if this man wasn’t telling him. He needed to talk to, to see Buck for himself. 

“If he comes home tell him to call me,” Eddie bit out finally. 

The grey haired man nodded. “I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

Eddie just turned and left, feet dragging as he took the stairs down. 

Climbing back into his truck, he balled his hands up on the steering wheel and just stared at Buck’s windows that looked out into the parking lot.  He could see someone looking out through the window towards him—the SWAT officer was watching him. 

The steering wheel creaked ominously under his grip, his worry ratcheting up another notch. Prying his fingers away, his hand was surprisingly steady as he pulled up Athena’s contact information on his phone and hit the call button.

“Eddie—to what do I owe the pleasure?” Athena’s voice was smooth, unworried. 

He had the impression that she knew exactly why he was calling. Eddie cut right to the chase, biting out each word so his voice wouldn’t break. “What is SWAT doing at Buck’s apartment?”

Silence. “Could you repeat that?”  Athena’s no-nonsense order was brittle with worry. 

“There’s a guy with a badge wearing a SWAT uniform shirt in Buck’s apartment and Buck’s not here.” Eddie barely was able to get out the last three words.  Buck wasn’t here...

Another long silent pause. 

“Eddie—I’m going to do some checking.  I know you haven’t slept because my husband hasn’t. You’re going to go home and sleep.  I will check into this and get back to you.”

“Buck,” Eddie’s voice broke on his best friend’s name. “We haven’t been talking and he’s gone....”

“I would have heard if he was in trouble. You need to sleep Eddie.”

“But Buck—“

“Eddie,” Athena’s voice had slid back to her confident no-nonsense self. “Sleep.  I will find out what there is to find out.”

He wanted to protest more but he knew that Athena was making more sense than he was at this point. The anxious mess in his chest made it hard to breathe. “I need to know he’s okay....”

“And I will make sure he is,” Athena assured him. “Call me when you wake up.”

His breathing was coming in sharp bursts, chest tight. “I haven’t talked to Buck,” he managed to protest. “I just need to know he’s safe.”

Athena’s pause  was just long enough for Eddie to completely startle when there was a knock on his window that almost made him drop his phone. 

Staring at him through the glass was the gray haired SWAT officer, mouth slightly turned down. He helpfully pointed down to indicate to Eddie to roll down the window. 

Unsure what else to do, Eddie did so.

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the doorframe and brow furrowed. If Eddie knew him better he’d almost say the guy looked worried. “Are you okay?”

Eddie nodded hesitantly.  

This wasn’t as reassuring as Eddie meant it to be as the man’s frown deepened. Athena’s voice in his ear asked what was going on. “Athena the guy he’s—“

The man held out his hand expectantly.  “Let me talk to them.”

Looking back and forth between the man’s hand and his phone, Eddie hesitated. “Eddie?” Athena’s calling of his name and the man’s look made him hand over the phone.

“Hi.  Who am I speaking with?”  The man’s gaze didn’t drop from Eddie’s, eyes dark yet somehow gentle. Eddie’s breathing still wasn’t any easier. “I’m Sergeant Deacon Kay—yes SWAT.  My team leader is Harrelson.”

Eddie had a name—but he didn’t recognize it other than to label the man with it. Sergeant Kay cocked his head as he listened to Athena, eyes still focused on Eddie. “Yes Officer Grant.  I understand that but all I can tell you is that Mr. Buckley has been reassigned by request of a different law enforcement team and that the chief and mayor both signed off on it.”

Even from this distance Eddie could hear that Athena said a lot of something in response to that and he winced in sympathy as Deacon straightened slightly and shoulders rolled back as his spine flexed. “Yes ma’am. I am not allowed to disclose that without further permission from my commanding officer or the Chief of Police.”

Eddie’s ears prickled with each tidbit of information. Buck had been reassigned? Willingly or not?  Who had the ability to reassign a firefighter—and to what kind of unit?  Buck was a firefighter—he’d had a string of other odd jobs like most guys but the only long term job or skill Buck possessed all had to do with their job.  Buck would never give up being a firefighter—hadn’t that been what the lawsuit had been about? 

  “I understand that officer and if I could tell you more I would.  I can tell you that Mr. Buckley was physically in fine shape when I last saw him and understood what was being asked of him and he was willing to do so.”  

Eddie’s hands curled around the steering wheel until his knuckles were white and the bruises across them that had dulled to an ache flared. Sergeant Kay had seen Buck.  Buck had been fine... but was he really?  How would Sergeant Kay know?

Athena evidently had more to say and Sergeant Kay listened patiently to her, making a few humming noises of agreement and occasional ‘yes ma’am’s’.  Sergeant Kay’s dark eyes never left Eddie and it, somehow, was reassuring.  He struck Eddie as being a lot like Bobby in the way that he spoke with Athena, how he carefully worded his responses—respectful but trying to be reassuring. It still didn’t mean that he might not be being completely truthful about Buck but Athena wasn’t showing up with sirens blaring either. 

The phone call wound down and Sergeant Kay handed it back to Eddie. Raising it to his ear, he could hear his name. “Athena?”

“Sergeant Kay is a friend of a friend. If he says Buck is okay I’m going to believe him—for now.”

Athena paused, seemingly waiting for Eddie to reply. “Okay.”

“So Eddie—I need you to go home and get some sleep.  I promised I’ll keep digging and I will. But you need to get some sleep and you’ll be thinking clearer when you wake up. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”  Sergeant Kay was still watching him, gaze patient. “I hear you.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re agreeing to get some sleep,” Athena observed drily. “I mean it Diaz.”

“I was going home,” Eddie half-heartedly protested. 

“Mm-hmm,” Athena’s doubt came through loud and clear.  “Home.  Now. Do not stop anywhere.”

“Yes mom,” Eddie rolled his eyes which made Sergeant Kay’s lips quirk up in amusement. 

“Don’t you sass me,” Athena warned him.  “Home. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yes Athena,” Eddie said goodbye, tone somewhat more apologetic but not much. 

Sergeant Kay hadn’t moved. “Are you okay to drive?” He asked, eyes concerned. He hadn’t moved back and it would be rude of Eddie to roll up his window before he stepped away.

“I’m fine,” Eddie insisted.  He just... he was so tired. He wanted to see Buck but that wasn’t an option and between this guy and Athena he just wanted to curl up on his bed and figure out what to text Buck that might not frighten him away. Christopher was at school and then Carla was going to pick him up for a few hours before bringing him home so Eddie could get a few hours of sleep. His brain and his heart both hurt he was so tired and missing Buck. 

Sergeant Kay didn’t look like he believed Eddie.  “Scoot over.  I’ll drive you home and then get a ride back here. You look like you’re two seconds from falling over.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie tried to protest but he hadn’t locked the door and it opened when Sergeant Kay pulled on the latch and repeated the command for him to move it. In a standoff, Eddie finally gave in with a scowl and scooted over to the passenger seat, bumping his elbow and hissing at the pain that ran up his arm. 

Closing the door with just enough force to not be fully slammed, Sergeant Kay buckled in and started the engine but waited until Eddie had fastened his own seat belt before reversing out of the parking space. He calmly took instructions from Eddie who was slumping further and further into his seat as they drove the ten minutes to his own house.  Sergeant Kay even made sure that Eddie got in the door before handing him his own truck keys and repeating Athena’s orders, “Get some sleep.”

Eddie could only watch in misery as a black SUV pulled up to the curb within a minute to pick up Sergeant Kay. It wasn’t either of the men from the night before that picked him up but a young guy who peeked at Eddie around Sergeant Kay and gave him a jaunty wave before pulling away with a screech of tires as soon as the door shut. 

Closing his front door, Eddie leaned his forehead against the cool wood as he flicked the lock. The fatigue he’d been fighting seemed to make his body feel like it weighed a thousand pounds and his eyes closed against his will. 

Dios, he silently prayed, please watch over Evan wherever he is. Let him be okay.

***

Well, if I was in your position

I’d put down all my ammunition

I’d wonder why it had taken me so long

But Lord knows that I’m not you

And if I was I wouldn’t be so cruel

‘Cause waiting on love ain’t so easy to do

Danny

Danny tried not to pace—it made Kono twitch from where she was lounging against the hood watching him—but he gave in about five minutes before Steve’s flight was landing.  They’d parked in the fire lane and airport security hadn’t even bothered to slow down when they’d seen the plates they were so used to seeing 5-0’s vehicles there and knew there was no use trying to get them to move. 

Danny had taken Steve’s monster truck instead of his camaro given the short text Steve had sent him that told him to prepare for company and Kono had come along after she and Chin had heard that Steve was coming back.  Chin was mysteriously busy and Danny hadn’t pressed—there was only room for about four people in the truck anyways.

Steve hadn’t replied to Danny’s question of what kind of guest—but he assumed it was the mysterious nephew that he’d pushed through paperwork through the governor’s office about. 

Also, Danny had access to Steve’s HPD email since he’d been left in charge and he’d seen the link.  It didn’t take his years of detective experience to guess what was going through Steve’s mind about the kid. 

The news clip had been revelatory. 

He’d watched it over and over.  This nephew.... this kid... he’d had a life-altering injury and then tried to go back to work and he’d had to file a lawsuit to do so.  Danny could appreciate that—he understood what it meant to have a calling that was so much a part of you that it would be like suffocating or losing a limb to have it taken away.  If he couldn’t be a detective anymore?  You might as well put a bullet in him.  

He was both too young and too old to have a second career now.  

His own brief google search on the name and in the background databases hadn’t revealed anything else interesting—kid was clean. Non-interesting Facebook profile that was typical of any twenty-something single male without any red flags and didn’t have a lot of posts the last year to six months or so. No Tinder or Grindr account—which was maybe unusual or suggested the kid had been in a relationship that wasn’t suggested on his Facebook account. The kid’s Instagram account was locked down and set to private so Danny hadn’t been able to peruse it. 

He hadn’t given the name to Chin or Kono though—something stopped him. Maybe it was because this kid was something close to family to Steve and he’d barely mentioned him.  Which bugged the ever living shit out of Danny. 

Who was this kid?  This “nephew”?

Evan Buckley—Buck. Kid.  Not a blood relative. Danny hadn’t pulled his service records as that would have required involving/asking someone else.  Someone Steve had known in his seal days—who had been part of his team. A seal team that had gone on a lot of missions that were so heavily classified (according to Steve) that they couldn’t be talked about or even vaguely referred to.  Even when they were relevant to a case that 5-0 caught Steve would only dole out each nugget of information a bit at a time. 

Sighing, Danny ran his hands through his hair which had been disturbed by the breeze coming off the ocean just on the other side of the runways.  The humidity of late afternoon had wrecked the hold of his careful gelled back look and the wind had done the rest. The smell of jet fuel exhaust and the noise of the airport pulled at him as he paced ten strides north, a turn and then ten strides south, turn and repeat as his mind did the same with the small amount of facts he had. 

He’d felt unsettled the last day since Steve had flown out, unmoored.  He could admit to himself that he didn’t like it when Steve wasn’t on the same island as him—and it wasn’t just because of the whole North Korea thing either. 

Danny hated that if Steve needed backup he was too far away to be there immediately. He should be with Steve.  That’s what partners did. 

The stream of people coming and going, the tourists mostly headed for either the taxi stand, rental cars or bus stop increased.  A few people were being picked up right in front with excited reunions and hugs happening, the traditional leis placed around their neck welcoming them to Hawaii.  Danny continued pacing, his eyes locked on the escalator that came down past the Aloha welcome to Hawaii sign to where they were waiting.  The alert Danny had set to announce that Steve’s plane had landed buzzed on his pocket but he didn’t look at it.  Steve would know where to come and find him. 

Ten minutes later, the stream of people had decreased and Steve finally appeared right when Danny was about ready to abuse his badge to get past security. Steve had a man following in his shadow just a step behind, both of them with large duffle bags slung over their shoulders. 

They walked exactly the same—their gait in sync and bodies turning to keep an eye on their surroundings.  A shiver worked it’s way down Danny’s back—he’d seen this behavior from Steve before and it’d usually been precipitated by people like his mother setting him up for trouble. Steve quickly saw Danny and headed straight for him, his posture relaxing slight as he hiked the bag up higher on his shoulder while beckoning the other man to follow. 

“Danno!” Was the enthusiastic greeting and Danny found himself being engulfed in a bear hug by Steve.  The quick way Steve ducked his head into his neck made Danny’s head spin as their cheeks pressed together tighter than usual for them. Steve’s grip was tight and he didn’t immediately release Danny—which made him internally pause.  Something had to have rattled Steve if he was being this clingy in public.  

Kono’ s greeting of “Bossman” was muted as Danny finally extricated himself from Steve who was just as reluctant to release him. Steve went to greet Kono with a hug leaving Danny to look more closely at Steve’s shadow. 

Blond hair that was cut close on the sides and longer on top with a bit of a curl to the ends over handsome features that were notable for the pair of birthmarks next to and over the left eye. Tall—taller than even Steve, lanky and a solid wall of muscles that didn’t distract Danny from noticing how the shoulders hunched slightly to make himself smaller when the kid noticed Danny’s attention. Bright sea blue eyes were cautious as they met Danny’s, hands fiddling nervously with the straps of the duffle.  The kid’s eyes darted to Kono and gave a nervous smile as Steve proceeded to introduce him.  He reminded Danny of a kicked puppy more than a hardened navy seal but Danny hadn’t forgotten the way he’d walked or fallen into Steve’s blind spot seamlessly to defend it. 

“This is Evan Buckley—Buck.  Buck this is my partner Danny Williams and another member of 5-0 Kono Kalakaua.  The other part of our team is Chin Ho Kelly and he’s out doing something for me so you’ll meet him tomorrow.”

“Hi,” Buck waved his hand awkwardly, feet shuffling where he stood. 

“Welcome to Hawaii,” Danny said at the same time Kono gave a semi-enthusiastic “Aloha.”  

Danny instantly felt bad for not buying one of the overpriced leis to hang around the kid’s neck—he looked like he was unsure of his welcome and Danny could see how Steve’s aneurysm-face made a brief appearance before he hid it behind a fake smile. Kid noticed it too by how he dropped his gaze to the duffle bag in his hands—he could read Steve better than most which was interesting. Even Kono and Chin didn’t always catch Steve’s mood like the kid was zeroing in on it. 

Steve steamrolled right through the awkwardness, slinging his arm around Buck and pushing him towards the truck.  “Throw your bag in the back and we’ll get going. You’re staying with me.”

Buck didn’t protest but snapped forward as ordered, snatching the second duffle from Steve’s hands. Danny met Kono’s eyes and raised an eyebrow, inclining his head towards the kid. Kono’s eyebrows shot up as she watched Buck easily dump his bag in the bed of the truck as Steve relieved Danny of the keys. The bags made impressive thumping noises as they settled, indicating that they were heavy and the kid had just tossed them effortlessly, single handedly. Kono mouthed “wow” at Danny and all he could do was shrug in response. 

Steve slid into the driver’s seat and Danny tried to get Buck to take the passenger seat but the kid shook his head emphatically.  “No.  I can sit in back. You should sit with Co—Steve,”\ he said, eyes flicking to the side and taking in Steve’s reaction as well as Danny’s.  

The kid was really nervous and wanting to please everyone and face darkening slightly as he fidgeted, waiting for a reaction but expecting someone to be unhappy. Steve also caught Buck’s expression and the brief hardening of his eyes clued Danny in that this was new behavior that Steve didn’t like. 

Danny’s heart maybe sort-of broke slight at this.  What had happened in LA since the accident to cause such uncertainty?  

Danny’s imagination ran rampant at that thought given the kid had filed a lawsuit... yeah.  Danny could imagine what kind of reception he’d gotten on returning to work and it probably made his own experiences at HPD when he’d first started look like a cakewalk.  At least Danny had only been a haole—kid had probably been public enemy number one with all his former friends treating him like Chin had been treated by HPD. 

Chin was going to love the kid for that alone. Danny could get behind this if only for Steve’s sake but he had a feeling the kid was going to be reason enough by himself.  Kid reminded him strongly of a younger, more impressionable Steve before the navy had gotten ahold of him (Danny was convinced that Steve had at one point in his life been a golden retriever before being made into a pit bull by the navy).  Kono would adopt the kid on Chin’s behalf too even if he was a mainlander like Danny. 

As he climbed into the truck after Buck, Danny met Steve’s eyes. “Babe,” he said, communicating in one word his concerns.

Steve got it and gave a small nod. “Thanks Danno. Let’s get Buck home and then you can catch me up on what I missed.”

Danny let himself wind up into a nonsensical argument with Steve about nothing in particular.  The patterns of their arguments so well worn into his consciousness that he only had to pay it half attention to keep up the snappy repartee.  In the rear view mirror, he could catch glimpses of Buck staring at them wide-eyed, hands clutching his seatbelt and then the grab bar as Steve took a corner a bit faster than was advised but he wasn’t surprised by Steve’s driving like most people were. 

Kono tried to engage the kid but he was mostly just watching Steve and Danny have one of their infamous ‘carguments’ that Kono had learned to tune out. The one word answers made the discussion in the back seat fall into silence as they neared downtown and the traffic came almost to a standstill.

Letting the argument slow down and then fade, Danny turned in his seat to look at Buck.  The kid tried to hide it but he tensed when he had Danny’s full attention. “So Buck—how long has it been?”

“Been since what?” The kid didn’t take the bait and give Danny anything to go on.

Smart.

“Since you and Steve were last running around together?”

Kid shrugged but he deflected well—just not as good as Steve. A Steve-in-training maybe. “A few years—been almost two years since we last saw each other when he did a layover at LAX.”

Steve’s hands jerked slightly on the wheel making Danny look at him. The small, barely there shake of the head was a warning to back off. 

“So it’s been a while then.  I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

The sadness and slight flinch was just noticeable if you were watching for a reaction. “Yeah.  Hopefully I fit right in.”

Danny didn’t need to see Steve’s response.  He got it—kid needed a place to be safe and fit in.  They could do that for one of Steve’s mini me’s men. “I think you’ll do fine,” Danny told him and he could see it. A sense of protectiveness bloomed in Danny as he realized why Steve was so focused on the kid—he really was like a young Steve. 

“You’ll do fine with us kid.”

Notes:

Song: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing by Jack Johnson.

Chapter 3: Consequences Come Knocking

Summary:

Things escalate quickly emotionally. Eddie’s world is crashing down around him and Buck gives Danny and Steve a glance into just what he’s been dealing with.

Warnings this chapter for heavy emotional angst for Eddie and Buck.

Chapter 3: Consequences Come Knocking

 

Well it’s all... for the sake of arriving with you

We could make this into anything

We could make this into more than words we speak

 

This could make us into anything

It could make us grow and become what we’ll be

 

Danny

They had made a brief stop at the ‘Iolani Palace to drop off Kono who gave an encouraging smile to the kid and extracted a promise of surfing tomorrow based on the wave forecast from Steve who’d given a side-eye to their guest that pinged Danny’s radar before agreeing. Danny didn’t trust that look at all and it seemed the kid had similar suspicions given how he’d blanched slightly at the mention of the swell that was going to hit the north shore just after dawn tomorrow. Kono would spend all day on Pipeline if Steve let her and given that it was going into the weekend and they didn’t have any cases it was likely she’d get to ride waves all day.  

Steve took them back to his house.  The kid was looking out the window in interest but closely following Danny and Steve’s banter. The open window made the kid’s hair ruffle, making him look impossibly young. Kid would do well with some sunshine given how pale he was but the circles under his eyes told Danny he was looking at a fellow insomniac. 

Hopefully the kid did better with the constant sound of ocean waves than Danny did. There was no way Steve was letting the kid out from under his roof looking like he did. “So Kid—you go by Evan right?” Danny asked what he preferred to go by. 

“Buck,” was the soft correction as blue eyes met Danny’s. 

“Buck—so you go by one of those nicknames like the rest of Steve’s army boys.  Steve said that you’d be working with us for a while.  We’ll have to get you checked off on things since you’ve never gone through the academy like this lug here.”

“Navy!” Steve protested which Buck echoed before blushing.  Steve continued,  “Buck’s a good shot and much less impulsive than me.”

Danny shot an unimpressed look at Steve who looked unrepentant. “That does not fill me with confidence.”

“Danno,” Steve began which made a small smile break across Buck’s face. “Danno he’s going to be fine. He’ll fit right in.”

“So I said earlier,” Danny agreed good-naturedly.”As I was saying we’ll have to get you checked off on the gun range and Chin will want to run you through all the stuff we use.  Assuming we don’t get a case, we should get all that done tomorrow.”

“Okay...” 

“So tonight we’ll get you tucked in at Steve’s.  Have you been subjected to his Navy-style hospitality before?”  Danny wasn’t a fan of Steve’s shower rules and flaunted them at every opportunity.  Steve’s acceptance of this was a work in progress. 

Another noise of protest was made by Steve but Buck was firm as he defended him. “Steve’s always been good to me—wherever we’ve been.”  As an afterthought, Buck added, “He at least wasn’t known for setting the MREs on fire.”

“Well lucky for you I am a much better cook than him—while I’m sure you appreciate applying heat to a piece of steak as much as this guy one can not live off protein alone.”  This got a small smile out of Buck that lit up his face. Kid was a looker despite his pale skinniness. 

“What do you make?” Was the shy question. 

“My Nonna taught me to cook everything I know—good Italian that she was,” Danny informed him before casually adding, “I picked up stuff earlier. Steve said you didn’t have any food allergies that he was aware of and he’ll eat whatever I make.”

“No.”

“Good.”

“So you live with Steve?” 

Steve’s eyes locked with Danny’s, expression like he’d been hit in the back of the head by a two-by-four. “No,” was Steve’s semi-strangled reply. 

“Oh,” Buck drew back into himself. “My mistake.”

“It’s an easy one to make,” Danny said magnanimously, eying Steve suspiciously and trying to tell him nonverbally to stop acting like a maniac before he scared the kid off. He wasn’t sure what was up with Steve and he did stay over a lot so it was an easy mistake to make.  “Steve’s is where we all tend to end up for cookouts.  The private beach helps—my children love it.”

It wasn’t Danny’s imagination that Buck did blanch at the mention of the beach. Did the kid not like beaches?  He was a former Navy Seal for god’s sake!  Seals were water based—hence part of the navy not the army. 

“I forgot about the beach,” Buck tried to salvage the conversation. “It was your Dad’s?” He asked Steve.

“Yeah. I bought out Mary’s share a while ago.” Steve’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.  Danny needed to steer this conversation back to something less fraught with land mines. 

“And you have kids?  I love kids,” Buck said with more enthusiasm.  Danny actually believed that was true but he was still suspicious about the beach thing. 

“Yes, two. Grace is going to be twelve next month and Charlie is almost two and a half.”

“Oh.  Will I get to meet them?” Buck lit up in interest.

“Yes.  Gracie lives with me but Charlie lives with his mother.  Grace is with her mom tonight.”

“In Hawaii? They live here on Oahu?”

“Yes.  Charlie’s.... been sick but getting better.”

Concern crossed Buck’s face as well as sadness. “That’s tough.  My fri—coworker Eddie has a son with CP.  Chris is a great kid.”

Steve actually twitched as he turned onto his street.  Buck was downplaying something given how badly Steve was reacting and Danny had noticed the correction.  Buck had been going to say friend.  Which was very interesting given what little Steve had told him about Buck’s situation. “CP’s tough,” Danny agreed. 

“Buck’s great with kids—we always gave him kid duty,” Steve told Danny as he pulled into his driveway.  “We’re home. Come on Buck—we’ll get you settled while Danny cooks.”

Steve practically jumped out of the truck with Buck just on his heels.  Danny followed at a more sedate pace. Buck had grabbed both duffles and slung them easily across his shoulders. The kid had arms like tree trunks.  Steve quickly showed Buck to the downstairs guest room that Danny frequently used but would belong to Buck for however long he needed it while Danny busied himself in the kitchen.

He was going to make his Nonna’s carbonara with the fresh noodles he’d made this afternoon while waiting for their plane to get in. Ingredients out, he set the water to boil after salting it. Steve trailed into the kitchen with Buck following like a lost puppy who instantly brightened upon seeing all the ingredients laid out on the counter. 

“What are you making?”

“Nonna’s carbonara.”

Buck beamed as he noticed the fresh made noodles. “You make your own noodles too?”

Amused, Danny answered in the affirmative which got an offer to help. Unable to say no, Danny began ordering Buck around the kitchen. Steve grabbed a few beers out of the fridge and wandered away as his phone began ringing, sending a look to Danny that told him to keep Buck preoccupied. Whoever was calling, Steve didn’t want Buck to listen in as he left the house and walked towards the beach. 

Distracting Buck by giving him orders to cut up stuff for a salad, Danny tried to pry a bit more out of Buck. Gently. 

“Steve didn’t mention any family of yours—married? kids?”

“No—just my sister Maddie and me.  My parents... they live in Pennsylvania and I don’t see them very often.” 

“Your sister?”

“Yeah.  She’s a 911 dispatcher in LA. We hadn’t seen each other for a few years because of her ex-husband but she moved out to LA to be near me when she left him.  She’s dating one of the guys from my firehouse.”

“That’s either convenient or awkward—I’m not sure which,” Danny said as he began whisking the eggs, pecorino and Parmesan together. 

“Chimney’s a good guy,” Buck allowed. “He makes my sister happy which is what matters.”

“You’re a good brother,” Danny observed how Buck almost glowed at the compliment. Kid responded well to praise—really well. 

“I try,” Buck shrugged. “Are you sure you don’t need me to do anything else?”

“Heat the olive oil in that skillet,” Danny pointed with his elbow towards the stove. “We need to sauté the guanciale.”

“Is this just fancy bacon?” Buck asked, scrunching up his nose as he opened the package that Danny had set to the side and smelled it. 

“That... is sacrilege.  Pay attention while I educate you in the fine art of my Nonna’s recipe.”

***

By the time that Steve rejoined them, Danny had made several observations. Buck was like a younger, more impressionable version of Steve in a lot of ways.  He didn’t have Steve’s seriousness but he had the same reaction when he was praised for doing the right thing—it was very obvious to Danny that Buck had spent a great amount of time with Steve during his most impressionable years. He also worked a knife like Steve did—like it was one of those huge hunting knifes or a K-bar but he’d also had more kitchen training and tried to self-correct when Danny noticed. He’d apologized profusely for not doing it right and Danny wanted to murder whoever had made the kid react like that to a criticism given his interest in learning.

However, what he noticed the most was that the kid was infallibly kind and wouldn’t say much about what was going on to bring him here.  There were a few more aborted mentions of this Eddie and his son Christopher and the sister Maddie as well as Bobby, Athena, Hen and someone named Carla who seemed attached to Eddie and his son. All of Buck’s references to them were how you’d talk about close family members but Danny noticed that nothing was very recent.  

Buck deftly avoided talking about his accident or the lawsuit but it was obvious that the kid had lived and breathed his job. He became sad each time he talked about going back to work but never gave too many details and Danny didn’t pry. 

When Steve returned, there was a tightness to his eyes when they met Danny’s and he shook his head before smoothing his expression to mild amusement as he checked Buck’s work out. Watching Steve gently tease and praise the kid’s work made something warm curl up in Danny’s chest. It really was too bad that Steve didn’t have kids of his own...

“Danny?” Steve called his name, trying to get his attention. The wry twist to his mouth said that this wasn’t the first time he’d tried getting Danny’s attention while he was thinking. 

“Yes?”

“How soon until this is ready?”

Looking at the pan, Danny estimated. “Three minutes.  You set the table.”

“We’ll eat out on the lanai,” Steve decided, gathering together silverware and plates. “Buck, want to help?”

“Sure,” Buck responded easily, grabbing the salad bowl and fruit along with the bread basket. The way he comically stacked everything on top of one another to get it all in one trip had Danny chuckling. Kid was enthusiastic about helping. 

“I’ll be out with this as soon as it’s done,” Danny assured them. 

He had a lot to think about—but he wanted to have a chat with Steve privately too.  Buck was a good kid and Danny wanted to know what he could do for him other than let him shelter at Steve’s.  If someone had purposefully been making it rough for the kid then they’d be in a world of hurt soon.

***

Well I can’t give you everything you want

But I could give you what you thought you need

A map to keep beneath your seat, you read to me in time I’ll get you there

So fold it up so we don’t find our way back soon, nobody knows we are here

 

Eddie

He hadn’t slept near enough. Despite the fatigue and the heaviness in his eyes, he downed a few cups of coffee after only a few disturbed hours of laying in bed hardly sleeping and mostly just rolling around worrying about Buck. Christopher had been his usual cheerful self but seemed to realize his dad wasn’t at his best and had gone to bed with hardly any complaint, his features drooping in tiredness that he seemed to catch from Eddie. 

Cleaning up the kitchen after putting Chris down, the restlessness and worry ate at him.  He’d only picked at his own dinner, tasting none of it and hardly able to swallow the few bites he’d taken to try and convince his son that it was just another weekday night.  Shoving the leftovers into Tupperware, the chill of opening and closing the fridge made his skin pimple at the chill which seemed to cut through him despite the otherwise warm evening air coming in through the open windows. 

He didn’t have a shift until tomorrow night and Christopher would be picked up by Carla after school and spend the night with Pepa.  Christopher was taken care of and sleeping away while his father rambled around the house at loose ends, half heartedly completing the daily chores. 

Wiping down the counter, he finished the last cleaning task. The kitchen was clean but he knew he wouldn’t sleep if he laid down and he was too restless still to try and watch a movie or read something. His phone was charging on the counter, screen dark. 

There’d been no updates from Athena nor messages from Buck.

Which wasn’t a surprise given how they’d hardly exchanged more than a handful of words in the last six weeks.  No texts. No Snapchats. No calls. The constant exchange of touch, of words—both verbal and nonverbal—since he’d first met Buck had been cut off cruelly with the filing of the lawsuit and they’d never recovered. Eddie had said things he didn’t mean that in the moment had been awful. Buck had told secrets that had been private, just between them, to others. Both of them had done things, said things they regretted. 

Eddie hated all of this—what had become of their friendship that had been the closest relationship he’d had... in longer than he’d want to admit. 

The silence. 

The uncomfortable, painful, ongoing silences. 

Not knowing what to say. The fear of more pain. The anger that had burned through him until it’d suddenly gone out only to be replaced by the staggering weight of anxiety that felt like it was burying him alive. 

But he’d still been able to lay eyes on Buck and reassure himself that his best friend was still physically with him even in the deafening silence between them. That breath still stirred in Buck’s chest. That Buck wasn’t bleeding out somewhere. That all Buck’s limbs were still attached and working...

Now, however, Buck.... wasn’t here. The cop had said he was fine—if only physically.  That Buck wasn’t in trouble. 

Eddie just didn’t know if he could believe the other man’s word. 

Rubbing his face with both hands, Eddie spent a moment in the middle of the kitchen trying to pull himself together. 

His phone buzzed with a notification and he dived for it, snatching it off the counter. Maybe Athena had....

No. 

It was from Lena.  There’s one tonight if you’re interested.

Eddie looked guiltily at Christopher’s closed door. He shouldn’t.  Lena’s oblique reference to a fight was tempting. So very, very tempting. His anxiety and the anger he constantly struggled with were suffocating him.

Another message came through. Money’s good tonight. 

The restlessness he’d been feeling earlier made him pace, phone gripped so tightly in his hand that it hurt, case creaking warningly at him. He could do with some relief. Was almost desperate for it.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t. 

But he needed to. 

The call to his aunt was stilted but after a token protest she gave in to come stay overnight with Chris.  The excuse he’d given her was weak but it said a lot about how worried she was that she didn’t protest further. The look she’d given him aged her but she just asked him to be careful. 

Eddie wondered what she thought he was going to do. Maybe she thought he was sleeping around after Shannon’s death. 

Which he wasn’t—for the record. He hadn’t slept with anyone other than Shannon since they’d gotten married years ago.  Not a single woman other than Shannon and he’d only ever slept with three women in his entire life—the other two both in high school. Eddie may have screwed up and failed his marriage in so many ways but he wasn’t unfaithful to Shannon and after their separation he hadn’t... he just couldn’t do that. He didn’t even know where to start with Pepa’s assumption that he was going out looking for a booty call. 

A half hour after he received Lena’s text he was in his truck heading for the fight. 

***

The fight was being held in a rundown part of town that he’d responded to fires in a few times. Nobody seemed to live here other than vagrants and those who were squatting in abandoned buildings with nowhere else to go. Given land prices you would think someone would have bulldozed the entire place and put up houses but it was sandwiched between two industrial parks so it wasn’t really a place you wanted to call home given the smells. 

Lena quickly spotted him as he found the gathering spot which was an open space among concrete half-formed walls.  Someone had strung a series of construction lights in a circle that was spray painted on the loose dirt.  There were maybe twenty or so pairs of fighters scattered around but Lena was one of the few women.  “You came—was thinking you weren’t going to show.”

Clenching his jaw tight enough for his teeth to creak warningly, he just shrugged. “You said the money was good.”

She peered at him, scrutinizing his face and a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. “Yeah.  Buy in is two hundred. You get one chance at buying in on the losers bracket for five if you lose.”

“That won’t be a problem,” he held up the money and handed it over. 

“I’ll get you signed up,” she said as she took it. She turned to go before pausing and looking back at him. “You’re sure you’re up to this?”

“Just get me in.”

Waiting for his turn in the ring, he idly remembered that one guy’s comments about taping his hands.  The bruises were still visible from the last fight.  It was too late to think about taping up now and no one else was doing anything like it.  

When he was waived forward, he took off his shirt and handed it and his cell phone to Lena.  Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. He began to mentally shut down like he craved.  To shut out the anxiety and let the anger out of the box he tried to keep it locked in during the day. 

He didn’t really listen as the rules were listed by the fight organizer.  The rules were simple—no killing. If you were down for a count or got forced out of the ring boundary you lost.  Anything else pretty much went. The other man’s voice sounded really far away as he sized up his opponent. 

The guy opposite him was slightly taller and heavier than him but he didn’t have as much muscle definition—looked like a construction worker given his boots and hands that said he did manual labor on a regular basis. There was a good amount of fat on his body but his reach was longer than Eddie’s. He was also older than Eddie and his unshaven jaw was uneven—looked like it’d been broken more than once as had his crooked nose. 

He looked mean when he gave Eddie a feral, yellow toothed grin. “Come on pretty boy,” he taunted as the fight began. 

Eddie didn’t take the bait and danced out of the way of the overly telegraphed first punch that was thrown at him.  Several more followed it before he saw an opening and lashed out with his own hand.  The connection of fist to the man’s chest made the old bruises hurt. 

The retaliatory hit he took to his shoulder was glancing as he didn’t get out of the way quick enough but he ducked just in time to avoid the haymaker that followed. His next swing did connect and the man grabbed him and tried to throw him out of the ring, using his own momentum against him.

Stumbling, he managed to twist and avoid falling out of the ring but he’d put his back to  his opponent. 

Thick arms wrapped themselves around him in a choke hold. Muscles bulged as they tightened back down and squeezed his neck.  His air supply was cut off and he couldn’t breathe.

Trying not to panic, he kicked back with his heels and rammed his elbow into the man’s ribs. This loosened the hold enough for him to take a breath and try to wriggle free. He tried again and his elbow caught the man in the solar plexus and he was released. 

The next hit that landed was a smack to his face, whipping him around in a spin. Dancing out of reach, Eddie could feel his face swelling around his left eye. He held his hands up in fists in front of his body protectively. 

“Goin’ to ruin your face Pretty Boy.”  He’d angered his opponent. 

“All I’m hearing is noise,” Eddie spat back.  The choke hold had him boiling over. 

The man charged him.  

Trying to get out of the way, he couldn’t avoid the wide swung arm that wrapped around his waist followed by the solid punch to his ribs. Going with it, he began landing punches on the man’s shoulders, chest and ribs but the other man was tenacious in his hold. 

He didn’t see the fist headed for his face until it landed again on the left cheekbone and glanced off, rattling his brain as pain blossomed. 

Eddie had missed it but something going on outside the ring.  He couldn’t divert his attention at the noise but kept trading body blows with his opponent that were starting to wear on both of them. 

It wasn’t until he was being body slammed into the dirt from behind that he realized that the fight was being raided by the police. 

“LAPD! SWAT!” Was bellowed at close range next to his ear.  Whoever was on top of him had put their full weight into pinning him and it took him a moment to process before it hit him. 

Shit. He was so screwed. 

Rather than fight off the cop on top of him, he went limp and pressed his face into the dirt tiredly.  The rage that had been suffusing him through the fight abandoned him and he felt cold. There was a faint ringing in his ears as his arms were wrenched behind him and his wrists cuffed.

“Stay down,” was the firm order in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. “Don’t fight me.”

What was there to say?  There was nowhere he could go. When he was urged by a pair of hands to turn over, he rolled onto his back.

It was harder to say who was more startled to recognize the other. Sergeant Deacon Kay hovered over him, fully decked out in riot gear.  “Eddie....?”

Eddie just let his head fall back and hit the dirt, eyes sliding closed. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment he’d wake up and realize he’d fallen asleep on the sofa like he should have. 

***

The SWAT officer hadn’t let Eddie out of his sight once he’d realized who he’d cuffed. Eddie found himself being shuffled off into the backseat of an unmarked black charger that didn’t have a barrier between him and the driver.  The second surprise of the night had been to see the black guy who’d come looking for Buck appear and talk with Sergeant Kay.  Whatever Sergeant Kay said to him, the other man made a beeline for the car to poke his head in to frown at Eddie.

“Really?”  The man asked in disappointment.

Eddie just looked back in exhaustion and shrugged. 

Breathing out in a huff, the man frowned at him and grumbled something under his breath before pulling back and slamming the car door shut to leave Eddie to contemplate just how screwed he was. 

He was pretty sure he was going to lose his job once he got charged—or at least suspended indefinitely. Bobby was going to kill him if his abuela and Pepa didn’t. The anxiety was back as well as a new emotion—despair.  Shannon had left him.  Buck was gone.  If he lost his job he’d have to go back to El Paso and ask for his parent’s help—there would be no other options.  The sour taste of the idea of letting his parents rule his life again... he’d failed and he’d have to swallow his pride for Christopher and—

His thoughts were interrupted by the black man and Sergeant Kay opening the front doors and getting in.  They seemed to be arguing silently about something but the black man gave another long suffering huff and turned the keys in the ignition while Sergeant Kay turned to look back at Eddie, dark eyes pitying. 

Eddie looked away, swallowing against the tight feeling in his throat.  The others that had been caught were being loaded into several vans.  He wasn’t sure why he was being separated out but he was thankful that at least he got to wallow for a few minutes in private as they sped away.

He was taken to an unfamiliar police precinct before being escorted into what appeared to be a team lounge/kitchenette.  He was pushed down to sit at a table and the cuffs were removed. Sergeant Kay went to the fridge and got a cold pack which he wrapped in a towel before handing it to Eddie. “Put that on your face—it’s already swelling up. Going to be a nasty shiner.”

Taking the proffered cold pack, Eddie hesitantly touched it to his face and hissed. White hot pain shot through him and his body had stiffened up from being restrained. Hunching in on himself, he watched as the other officer grabbed three mugs of coffee.  More silent conversation was passing between the two police officers and the one who’s name he didn’t know had an impressive eyebrow game going on which made Sergeant Kay roll his eyes and puff out his cheeks in exasperation. 

Sergeant Kay liberated one of the coffee cups and sat across the table from Eddie, shoving the spare cup towards him. The other man joining him.  Eddie decided he’d wait them out—he had no idea what was going on but he remembered Athena’s advice had been to always keep his mouth shut and call her before doing anything stupid.  Or more stupid than getting in an illegal street fight. 

“Drink. You look like you need it.  How much sleep did you even get?” Sergeant Kay asked in concern as he leaned forward to get a better look at Eddie’s face. He stopped short of poking his fingers at Eddie’s bruised face but it was almost fatherly in nature. 

“I got a few hours.” Eddie figured he could answer that question as there was nothing inherently incriminating about it. 

“But not nearly enough,” Sergeant Kay observed.

Eddie shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee.  It was extremely hot, almost scalding his tongue but he didn’t complain.  The other men were drinking it like this. 

“What were you doing there tonight?” The other man asked, his hands clenched tight around his cup.  

Eddie looked at Sergeant Kay then back to the guy who’s name he still didn’t know. “I think...  I would like my phone call before I answer any questions.”  He wasn’t sure who he’d call but he wasn’t going to say anything more until he did talk to someone. Maybe Athena. She at least would get him a lawyer. 

“You’re not under arrest,” the black man growled.

Sergeant Kay reached out and gently placed his hand on the other man’s wrist. “Hondo.”

Eddie swallowed another too hot mouthful of coffee. “Still would like that phone call even if I’m not.”

Scowling, Hondo stood and paced back and forth like an agitated big cat.  “Deacon says you’re Buck’s friend,” he stated.

Buck.  Eddie’s eyes teared up and he pushed the ice pack harder into his face, trying to numb it or distract with physical pain. “I am,” he managed, voice rough. “He’s my best friend.”

That got him a disbelieving look. “You’ve been doing a poor job of that lately,” was the sharp rebuke. 

“I know,” Eddie admitted, eyes falling to the table surface. His right hand was turning an impressive purple in color over the knuckles that didn’t want to straighten as he picked at the wood grain. 

His admission got Hondo to pause in his pacing, looming over Eddie with his hands across his chest as he stared at him. Eddie wasn’t sure what he   was looking for but he didn’t flinch away from the searching gaze. He knew he’d done something stupid and he would pay the consequences. 

It was what he deserved—his brain whispered viciously at him before he shut that line of thought down. 

“Hondo,” Sergeant Kay repeated, tone soft before he spoke to Eddie. “How about I reach out to Sergeant Grant?”

Eddie nodded. “That’s who I was going to call anyway,” he muttered.  At least this took the decision out of his hands as to who to call.  Athena was probably the best choice—Bobby would still find out but Athena would.... she’d make sure things ended up as fair as possible. 

Sergeant Kay took his coffee as he left the break room to get in touch with Athena.

Hondo finally sat back down a few minutes later staring at Eddie who stared back, unwilling to back down.  Tensions was thick in the room but Eddie didn’t know what he’d done that had pissed this man off so much.... unless he knew Buck?  But Buck would have mentioned knowing someone in SWAT....

“You say you’re best friends with Buck,” Hondo broke the silence. “For being such good friends I’d say you’ve been doing a poor job of it.”

Eddie debated answering the question.  It wasn’t related to the fight but what was Hondo getting at by digging at him about Buck. “Not that it’s any of your business—“

“Kid is my business,” Hondo bit out.

“Kid?” Eddie was confused. 

Hondo’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “Maybe you don’t know Buck as well as you think.”

Anger reignighted at the implication, Eddie responded without thinking, letting the ice pack fall to the table as he leaned forward. “I know Buck—he’s my best friend. Whatever you think you know is nothing.  We might be having a rough patch but he’s still my best friend.”

Buck was still his friend.  He might have left to go somewhere but he’d always be Eddie’s best friend until the day he died.

“Your best friend who you’ve been shutting out?  That’s cruel.”

“You don’t know anything about me or Buck,” Eddie insisted lowly. “So maybe you shouldn’t judge things you don’t know?”

“But I have eyes,” Hondo spat out.  “Kid’s underweight. Hasn’t been sleeping or eating. Flinches at the slightest noise or if you pass too close to him.  Yeah you’re totally his best friend who has been sitting by and letting him suffer without help.”

Eddie reacted by swiping at Hondo who danced out of his reach, thrusting his chair backwards and standing. Hondo grinned nastily at him. “Got an anger problem don’t you?”

Thoughts racing, Eddie processed what Hondo had said. Was Buck really not eating or sleeping?  He’d noticed that Buck rarely ate with the team anymore but he did more than his fair share of the cooking and he’d always sampled things as he cooked....

But Buck had been looking kind of pale and the circles under his eyes more pronounced. Eddie hadn’t wanted to look too closely, worried that he’d say something worse or they’d fight again.  He’d called Buck exhausting in the grocery store and it’d been a huge lie.  Eddie had been the one so exhausted by not being able to talk to Buck because of the stupid lawsuit and Chris hadn’t been sleeping the night through due to nightmares about Shannon while Eddie was still so very angry at her for leaving them again. Then there were the nightmares that Chris had about the tsunami and he’d wake up desperately looking for Buck...

He’d ignored his best friend for months. Some friend Eddie was....

Eddie’s thoughts flagellated himself and Hondo seemed to realized he’d landed a painful hit.  

Sergeant Kay picked that moment to return, voice sharp.  “Hey—Hondo leave him alone.”

Hondo mulishly shook his head. “We’re just reaching an understanding about what friends do for one another.”

Sergeant Kay looked at Eddie, trying to discern what exactly was going on and frowned. “Leave it Hondo.”

Holding up his hands in surrender, Hondo’s face smoothed out. “I’m done,” he stated before walking out.  

Eddie deflated, burying his face in his hands. He just kept screwing up. Nothing he did was right anymore. Maybe Chris would be better with his parents—no. He knew that he’d made the right decision there. But if he was in trouble maybe...

“Hey,” Sergeant Kay interrupted his thoughts again, pulling his hands away and pressing the cold back to his face. “Don’t.  Whatever Hondo said I’m sure he’s just being overprotective.”

“And if he’s right?” Eddie asked, voice hoarse with emotion.  Hondo had been right. He was right about him and Hondo had taken one look at Buck and knew how badly Eddie had treated him.  Eddie deserved the harsh words. He knew he did. 

Sergeant Kay chose his next words carefully. “There’s always at least two sides to every story... and I’d like to think there’s always time to make things right.”

“Even if I don’t deserve it?”  If he was Buck... he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to see or hear from himself ever again. Buck was too good for him, too kind, too gentle. 

Sadness crossed Sergeant Kay’s face. “The man who asked me if his friend was okay—even if they’d been fighting—is a man who deserves to try and redeem himself I think.”

Eddie laughed brokenly, not sure he could believe the other man’s words.  “I screwed up—am screwed up.  Maybe Buck’s better off wherever he went.”

Sergeant Kay looked like he wanted to say something further but he just shook his head. “Sergeant Grant said she’d be here as quickly as possible.  Drink your coffee and we’ll talk once she’s here.”

***

We could park the van and walk to town

Find the cheapest bottle of wine that we could find

And talk about the road behind

 

Our gettin’ lost is not a waste of time

 

Buck

Meeting all the people whose names he knew from talking with Steve, Buck knew he was being pretty quiet but he didn’t want to make the same mistakes he’d made elsewhere.  Kono was sweet but obviously had an impish nature given the way she’d talked about waves that made Buck’s suppressed dislike of water since the tsunami tingle with regret. He hadn’t been surfing in almost a year since he’d avoided the beach in general after that one day and his injuries had made that a no-go activity for a while but he had enjoyed it occasionally before.  Had even spent some of his days off riding waves when he’d wanted some solitude and time to wrap his brain around things.  Kono was obviously operating on a whole other level, the quick pearly white smile she flashed and the easy way she shifted into Hawaiian surf-speak with Steve before Danny interrupted them was amusing. 

Her enthusiasm and the way she joked with her bosses was encouraging. Family-like. 

It made his guts twist in remembered loss for the easy way he used to have with his own found family or his seal team with Steve. 

Detective Daniel Williams was sharp and hadn’t missed anything. The sharp crystal blue eyes had pinned Buck the moment he’d laid eyes on him and Buck knew—just knew—that Danny had his number and possibly the number of everyone he’d ever met.  Danno—er Danny—was just as... well... he was enthusiastic and bombastic. About everything seemingly.  Buck found himself smiling internally at how the man easily pushed around Steve and how Steve just preened at the attention, mock fighting as he drove. It was subtle and if you didn’t know him you’d miss it but it was there.  

The way that Steve acted around Danny was so similar to how he’d been with Freddie before he’d gotten married and had to tone it down a bit.  Buck had suspected it but now he had it confirmed—his old commander was in love with his partner and maybe wasn’t even aware of it.  Freddie would box Steve’s ears if he was here and watching this..  

Freddie.

The thought of his former teammate and the team XO saddened him. He missed Freddie—he’d been Buck’s first good role model as an adult and made him realize what he really wanted to do with his life.  To help people.  Freddie had been the one who’d talked him through the decision not to re-up his contract and instead pursue something where he could help people.  The six months of wandering around South America between the end of his contract and getting into the fire academy had been at Freddie’s suggestion—readjusting to civilian life and learning how to not be in the navy.  

It had been a rough adjustment.  

Buck had maybe gone a little too wild if you asked Bobby when he’d joined the 118 but Buck hadn’t had a lot to go on for what was civilian normalcy vs military life and he’d maybe swung too far in one direction before leaving his Buck 1.0 phase as he called it behind.  His childhood hadn’t leant itself to knowing how to be normal so he’d had to figure it out himself and he hadn’t felt he could ask anyone a lot of the questions that he’d had at the time and Maddie had been incommunicado at that point. 

Bobby had been his second Freddie. His second Dad if he was being honest and the distance between himself and his second Dad felt almost as bad as the distance between him and his first dad—Freddie.  

Freddie who was dead for almost four years now.  He wouldn’t have to worry about getting the day off this year—he was sure Steve would make sure both of them had time to remember their grief.  Buck usually called Steve and Freddie’s widow on the day to check in and remember the best parts of their shared memories. That was one yearly phone call he made sure he always did. 

But he was too in his head and he needed to pay attention.  Helping Danno out in the kitchen, he tried not to think about the beach that Steve’s house backed up to.  It was the Hawaiian dream—beach front property in a quiet, secluded family-friendly neighborhood. 

Buck hadn’t avoided the beach exactly but he’d not sought it out in the months since he’d taken Christopher that day to the pier. Just thinking about that day made his skin pimple in goosebumps and a shiver to race down his spine in uneasiness. He’d come clean on the airplane ride and he’d been lucky Steve hadn’t been able to yell at him on a plane full of people. 

Steve had exacted a promise from him which Buck intended to keep—next time he got injured requiring medical care he’d let Steve know.  The combination of embarrassment and twisted pleasure that Steve still cared had made him promise his old commander when pressed. 

Someone still cared. Steve cared. 

He was getting misty-eyed over the fruit salad in his memories. 

Shaking his head to clear it, he followed directions and helped Steve set the patio table up for dinner for three. The waves were calm as they lapped at the beach maybe fifty yards away and there was a line of palm trees and foliage between Steve’s yard and the neighbors that gave him privacy. A line of perfect sand edged the water and a pair of Adirondack chairs face the water just at the edge of grass and sand—the perfect place to watch the sun set over the water with a beer in hand. 

Gritting his teeth, he firmly suppressed watching the waves.  No good would come of obsessively watching the waves to make sure the water didn’t receded like it had at the pier. 

There would be no tsunami today and he needed to remember that. 

Attempting to be as normal as possible, he ignored the way Steve looked at the waves and then back at him. 

He’d be fine.  He was fine. He just needed to not fixate on the waves. 

He would not develop a fear of the beach or water. Chris had bravely gone to the aquarium with him the day before the dinner party that had caused so many problems.  Buck had been so proud of Chris and Dory’s infamous saying had become one of their mantras—just keep swimming. 

Buck was a former navy seal.  He was a frogman. He was an expert swimmer who could get dropped out to sea miles from shore and then swim to that shore—although it’d been a while since he’d done that stuff. 

He was fine being this close to the water. 

This too would be just one more thing that he’d face and would be fine about. 

Deep breath in and out. 

“Buck?” Steve’s quiet call of his name made him startle. 

He’d completely zoned out. 

Rearranging the salad and fruit bowls, he shook his head. “I’m fine.  Sorry.”

Steve’s gaze was like a laser beam and he could feel it as he watched Buck fidget. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” he tried to smile to show that he was a-okay, face feeling half frozen as his lips curled up. The worried look Steve gave him said he wasn’t being convincing.  He let the smile drop. 

“Okay,” Danno announced.  “Clear a spot.  Buck prepare to be amazed by one of my Nonna’s special recipes.”

As Danny placed a bowl of pasta in the center of the table, Buck’s mouth watered. It smelled heavenly.  Pasta with the fancy bacon stuff and white sauce. 

He accepted Steve’s shoving him down into a seat and began passing the food around. 

The shared look between Steve and Danny started a long discussion that, at first glance, appeared to be a very spirited argument.  It was obvious that they had a long established pattern, tit for tat, back and forth. If you listened only to the words you’d think that Steve and Danny didn’t get on—but they did.  

There were multiple layers to the conversation going on around him.  While Danny went on about the intricacies of his Nonna’s recipes and how she’d taught him, Steve would butt in with little asides and poke fun at the details provided with smart remarks. The second, more subtle conversation was in small touches and gestures. For instance, Steve plucked the fork out of Danny’s hand to take the first bite. Chewing carefully, he gave feedback on Danny’s cooking and complementing him while urging Buck to eat. 

Buck hesitantly took his first bite.  It smelled delicious and he actually felt hungry for once, his stomach giving a hungry and embarrassing growl that made Danny beam at him as he watched expectantly. The pasta was cooked to perfection with the sauce adding a savory delight of the fancy Italian bacon  

“So?” Danny. arched one eyebrow in question.

Buck let the moan he’d been holding back escape. “Fucking fantastic.  Your Nonna knew what she was about.”

Steve beamed happily at Danny before taking another large bite. “Danno...” he began to praise his cooking. 

Happy that the attention had been diverted off of him, Buck dug in with gusto as he watched the other two.  Danny and Steve managed to have a conversation about food and nothing at all, continuing the same pattern from earlier. There were references to things that they’d obviously argued about in the past as well as random snippets from their cases and lives. For instance, both of them argued that they were Eric Estrada from Chips... which Buck added to his list of things to look up as they’d both looked askance at him when he’d asked who that was. 

Danny’s explanation about Chips and all things Eric Estrada had been confusing to follow since Steve kept interrupting. It seemed to be an old cop show—not Buck’s usual viewing but sounded interesting the way they argued about it and which of them was hotter and therefore Eric Estrada. 

Settling back, Buck just let their conversation roll over him.  This was the happiest he’d been in a while. He was going to enjoy it while he could. The sound of the waves on the beach faded away into the background. 

***

Buck felt like he avoided any awkwardness for the rest of dinner and he jumped to help clean up.  Steve tried to wave him off but he stubbornly ignored it and began washing the dishes—trust his old commander to not have a dishwasher. Danny wandered in and out, bringing the remainders in and packing them away.  

It hadn’t escaped Buck’s notice that Danny knew where everything was in Steve’s kitchen and had to hold back a laugh as Danny began ranting about the quality of olive oil that Steve had bought.  Evidently it was not the Danny-approved brand or quality. Steve protested and flicked Danny’s ass as he passed with the towel he was using to dry the dishes. 

Buck then witnessed his former commander have a fight in the middle of his kitchen that ended up with both of them on the floor tickling each other. He hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time. 

Neither Danny nor Steve seemed to have a problem making him laugh and he lost the self-consciousness to let out a few random chuckles as he remembered the highly offended look Steve had given Danny when Danny had licked the hand covering his mouth to try and shut him up. For the record, it hadn’t worked and as soon as Steve moved his hand in outrage, Danny had continued the constant stream of words that seemed to surround the pair. 

Buck clued in that neither Steve nor Danny saw what was right in front of them both.  He kind of wondered about their detective skills.

Steve was completely gone on Danny—more so than maybe he’d even been on Freddie but Buck had been part of that betting pool and there had never been any payout since Freddie got married with Steve as his best man. Danny, since Buck had never met him before today, had been slightly harder to read but it was obvious that he wore his heart on his sleeve.  Danny practically glowed when Steve’s attention was on him.

They were both oblivious idiots and it warmed Buck’s lonely heart. Maybe Steve would get a second chance with Danny that he’d missed with Freddie. Buck had been there for some of the aftermath of Freddie’s death and it hadn’t been pretty how Steve had thrown himself into his work.  That last mission together had solidified Buck’s reasons for getting out but it’d made him worry for a long time over Steve. 

The phone call he’d gotten after Steve had come home to Hawaii had been odd at the time. Steve had wanted to let Buck know that he was going to actually be reachable for an extended period of time and there had been a soft job offer at the time.  Buck hadn’t taken him up on it because he’d been preparing to apply to the fire academy and Steve had warned him that it was likely temporary that he’d be running the task force. 

Steve had been in Hawaii now for almost five years and Buck would bet money that as long as Danny was here he’d stay. 

The day that Buck had rapidly caught up to him and he found himself yawning into the beer he’d been given by Steve. 

“Tired?” Danny asked. 

“Tired,” Buck confirmed, fingers tearing at the label of his beer. 

“Don’t let us keep you up.  Time differences and all that,” Danny waved his hand. The sky was dark outside, they’d lingered over dinner until the sun had set. It was late. 

Steve bumped his shoulder into Danny’s and nodded. “Yeah. Guest bedroom’s all yours.”

Feeling awkward again, Buck shuffled his feet and took a swallow of beer.  It was a longboard—Steve’s favorite. Steve had told him he needed to drink better beer. “I mean... I’m sure you guys want to...”

“Yeah no.  I need to catch this lug up on some work stuff but you can go get a shower and get settled. Have some time to unwind and then fall asleep.  If you need anything we’ll just be out here,” Danny insisted. 

Buck checked with Steve and he was already shooing him away.  “Yeah.  If you need anything just let us know.”

Momentarily struck by the “us” part of that statement, Buck just nodded and left the kitchen, taking his beer with him since he didn’t know what else to do with it. Wow... they either were both completely clueless or were hiding it for some reason. Probably not hiding it given how much Steve had practically fallen over himself earlier to insist that Danny didn’t live with him. 

Huh. The proof said otherwise. 

The guest room was fairly bare—the queen sized bed took up most of the space but there was an armchair wedged in the corner next to an ancient looking dresser that had clothes in Danny’s size in about half the drawers.  Buck had raised an eyebrow as he started putting his own stuff away in the remainder. There’d also been a bunch of freshly dry cleaned dress shirts still in their plastic wrappers hanging in the closet that were too small to be Steve’s that were right next to Steve’s dress uniform. Buck had checked the sizes to make sure. 

Or maybe they were both still in the negotiation phase of things where they didn’t tell everyone they were together?  Surely they couldn’t both be this oblivious.  Danny had more stuff here than Buck had ever allowed any girlfriend to have at any place he lived. More than he’d even accidentally left at Eddie’s and he stayed over there a lot on nights when he’d had one too many beers to drive home safely. 

Deciding he’d shower the sweat of air travel off before trying to sleep, he gathered his things, drinking the last dregs of his beer.  There’d also been a lot of toiletries in the medicine cabinet that he could never see Steve using—especially the hair gel.  The aftershave had smelled like Danny. 

When he got Steve alone he’d get all the details out of him he decided as he wrapped the towel around his waist. He’d also need to tell Danny that his soap was much better than the bar soap he’d expected to find of Steve’s. 

He could still hear the waves even though the guest bedroom was in the front corner of the house but he was so tired he was sure it wouldn’t be an issue. But first, shower. 

***

Buck had tossed and turned for a bit before the fatigue had pulled him under despite the steady whoosh background of the waves that were both hypnotic and made his instincts prickle in awareness. One moment he’d been awake and staring at the surfboard on the wall and the next he’d been asleep. 

He dreamed of being suspended in the water. The weightlessness of being suspended and the pressure of the air in his lungs begging to be released. Disoriented, all four limbs flailing in the green blue world under the water as debris had tumbled around him.  But something was missing....where was Christopher?

Buck began to panic. Christopher.... where was Christopher?  He’d been carrying him, Christopher’s tiny arms clutching to the back of his shirt as he ran as fast as he could away from the approaching water. 

A flash of Eddie’s eyes and the light going out of them as he realized that Buck didn’t have Christopher. When he’d asked why Buck had Chris’ glasses around his neck. 

Buck woke up crying, pillow clutched tight to his chest. 

There was a light knock on the closed door before it opened. “Buck?  Are you okay?  I thought I heard....” Danny didn’t turn on the overhead light as he entered.

Scrambling to sit up, Buck wiped at his face. “Danny?”

The clock on the dresser said it was almost 2 AM. 

“Buck?”

Danny sounded far away. All he could hear was the waves. The steady slap of water as it contacted the sand. The roar of it overwhelmed everything else and he slapped his hands over his ears, trying to block it out. “Nononononononono”

Hands were pushing at his but he wrenched away, trying to shut out the noise.

He could still hear the water. The waves. 

The water was coming for him.

Where was Christopher?  He had to find Christopher....

The tight band that slipped over his head surprised him, the odd sensation startling him out of the flashback. Hands gently pushed his away from his ears and the cups of the noise cancelling headphones covered them. The hiss of white noise as they were turned on drowned out the waves and all he could hear was his own heartbeat. 

Danny was half on the bed with him, expression concerned and hair sticking up on one side. He said something but it was muffled by the headphones and Buck’s heart was beating too fast to understand. 

“What?”

Telegraphing his move carefully, Danny lifted one headphone. “You back with me?”

Nodding, Buck realized his hands were shaking. Scratch that—his whole body was shivering violently. He was so cold like when he’d been drenched in the tsunami wave. 

“Come on,” Danny pulled him to standing and hustled him into the living room where he pushed Buck to sleep on a nest of blankets that were still warm from Danny’s body heat. “I’m going to get some water.  Stay here,” Danny instructed as he pulled the blankets around Buck. The tv was on low and the waves were less noticeable because of it, providing the only light in the living room other than the moonlight that came in through the patio doors. “Do I need to grab the headphones?”

“No?” Buck looked at Danny, lost. 

Roughly running a hand through his hair that made it stick up even worse, Danny nodded and padded away into the kitchen. The sound of a sink running and something glass clinking followed before Danny reappeared. Danny made him drink, watching closely to make sure that Buck swallowed at least half the glass. 

Stripped down to an undershirt and boxers, Danny sat next to Buck and tucked the blankets around him tighter. He didn’t say anything for several minutes which Buck supposed must be a marker for how worried he’d made Danny. 

“Nightmares?”

Buck shrugged. “Memories.”

“You get these often? Flashbacks?”

He hesitated to answer that. They’d been happening more often as of late.  Buck had blamed it on a combination of not sleeping well and feeling lonely. He hadn’t had any issues immediately after the tsunami—the first one had happened the night after Eddie had called him exhausting in the grocery store. “Sometimes,” he answered Danny. 

“More often lately?” Danny pressed. 

He shrugged, not wanting to confirm.  

Danny watched him, one lock of the blond hair falling into his eyes. “It bothers Steve when I keep the tv on too loud.”

“What?”  Why would Danny be leaving the tv on?

“The sounds of the waves. I have insomnia and sometimes it gets pretty bad.”  Danny didn’t explain why he was sleeping at Steve’s. “The tv is like white noise and it drowns out the waves. Sometimes it helps.”

Buck just stared at the blonde. “Why does it bug Steve?”

“Because he’s hyper vigilant—a lot of you seal-types are. Any noise and you’re up and investigating it ready to ninja chop any burglars.  The tv makes him unable to sleep and a sleep-deprived Steve is grumpy as I’m sure you know.”

“Yeah.”  Steve was a morning person. A natural morning person that made the rest of their former team—who were not natural at being morning people—wanna shoot him for target practice.  Buck may have lived for years getting up at 0400 for PT but he’d never liked it and had gleefully adjusted to a civilian sleep schedule after getting out.  He couldn’t see Steve making the same adjustment. 

Danny continued on as if Buck hadn’t spoken. “But see?  You keep Steve up and he becomes a grumpy morning person who still gets up at o’ dark thirty to go swim with the dolphins like the half fish he is. And then he’s falling asleep before the sun goes down and I hear about it.”

“He does?”

“He totally does. So we compromised when I stay over.  Hence the headphones.”

“Headphones?”

“It doesn’t always work,” Danny confessed. “Sometimes I just need the tv on but I keep it nice and low. Just enough to break up the ocean noises.”

“But it works sometimes?”

“Most of the time,” Danny corrected. “Wanna tell me about it?  I’m told it helps....”

Buck hesitated. Should he tell Danny? Steve trusted him.  But would Danny.... he was trying to help. Buck should try—what did he have to lose anymore?  Steve already knew the worst of it. 

“Thalassophobia. Fear of the ocean,” Buck focused on the random factoid, trying not to tear a hole in the blanket from how tight he was clutching it.  He’d spent a lot of time on Wikipedia after the tsunami chasing down all sorts of information on natural disasters and responses to the trauma of experiencing one. At the time, he’d wanted to be prepared in case Christopher had any issues.  The knowledge hadn’t fixed his own problems and the very thought of the gentle waves outside had memories of that day surfacing and replaying in his mind over and over. I 

“Not to be confused with aquaphobia,” Danny added as an afterthought. “So you?”

“There was a tsunami—you saw the news?”

Danny sighed, gaze pained as he held Buck’s, head ducking slightly to make sure their gazes held as Buck’s attention tried to drift back again to that night he’d spent searching everywhere for Christopher. “I did.  You have terrible luck don’t you?”

Buck shook his head in denial. “If it wasn’t for bad luck....”

“You’d have no luck at all,” Danny finished. “What happened?”

Buck licked his lips, dropping his eyes to his hands. He could explain... why he had so much trouble. Surely if he made Danny understand he’d know to just let Buck have his problems. “Eddie... he asked me to watch Chris....Christopher—his son.  I was... I wasn’t in a good spot mentally and he was trying to pull me out of it.  Get me moving instead of staying in bed all day. Eddie made me get up and watch Christopher for the day and at first I was going to take him to the movies but I thought that maybe we’d have more fun doing something outside rather than sitting in the dark.”

“Sounds like a fun day.”

He twisted his hands tighter in the sheets, the pattern weave of the sheets so tight it was painful against his knuckles. “It was supposed to be.  We’d just reached the end of the pier out towards the water when the sirens went off but it was too late. Water was already going out....”

Buck could hear Christopher asking him where all the water had gone....the sound of the wave rushing at them like a speeding train... his pulse began to hammer in his ears and his breaths were tight in his chest. 

Danny’s hands were gentle as they covered Buck’s and squeezed, breaking the hold of the memory for a moment. “Then what happened?”

“I picked up Chris and ran. He’s got CP and... Eddie said he’s not fast...” a sob escaped his throat and he tried to cut it off before it became a string of them.  He could still remember how small Chris had been in his arms, how his weight had bounced on his shoulder as he’d run with lungs burning and his mind screaming in terror.  Christopher wasn’t fast—Eddie was right. “I picked him up and ran and then the wave hit.”

He could remember trying to put the flimsy barrier of the carnival booth between them and the force of the wave.  It had still hit like a ton of bricks, blasting through and tossing them both into a tumble of water where Buck hadn’t known which way was up.  He could still feel how the water had invaded his nose and his lungs had felt ready to burst when he finally had surfaced, gasping for air. He could smell the saltwater, taste it. 

“Oh god....” Danny’s grip squeezed in reassurance, bringing him back again. “You got caught in the wave.”

Buck nodded, sniffing and swallowing around the tight squeeze in his throat as he refused to let out another sob. “I just barely managed to hold onto him then but I didn’t later when the second wave hit.  I was too busy trying to help someone else—”

“Oh god....” 

Buck chanced a look at Danny’s face and the absolutely devastated look had him correcting his assumption. “Someone else found him the second time.  I... I had to tell Eddie that I lo.. lost Chris.” Eddie got lost in the memory of how Eddie’s face had crumpled, the light in his eyes dying as Buck had told him that he’d lost Chris. 

“Hey—hey!” Danny’s hand was curling around Buck’s shoulder and he was pulled into the smaller man’s chest.  For such a small man, Danny sheltered Buck in his embrace, shushing him and just holding on as Buck cried. 

“I lost him.  I couldn’t hold on I was so tired....” Buck tried to explain. Tried to explain how he’d gone from cry to cry, pulling person after person out of debris and wreckage and just asking if they’d seen a small, eight year old boy with curly hair and a smile that could cut through the cloudiest day. 

Danny just kept murmuring soft words, arms holding Buck. Embarrassment registered but mostly Buck was just too caught up in the terror and overwhelming feeling of letting Eddie down.  He’d lost Christopher and cried into Danny’s soft undershirt in his grief. 

Buck wasn’t sure how long it took him to cry himself out but he was so tired.  He fell asleep a second time to Danny running his hands through his hair and softly shushing him.

***

 

The candle is burning down it’s time to rest

I can’t take back things already gone

But I could give you promises for keeps

 

Now I’d only take them back

If they becomes your own and you give yours to me

 

Steve

He’d heard Buck and Danny up and moving downstairs before the distinctive sound of  Buck crying. Making his way down the stairs, he avoided the spots that would give him away as he sat on the landing, just out of sight from the couch. Listening as Buck told Danny more details about the tsunami that had taken out the Santa Monica pier, Steve’s own hands curled into clenched fists in shared fear.  

Buck had only admitted that he’d been on the pier—he’d omitted the details about having his best friend’s kid with him. 

Eddie Diaz—Steve knew a bit about him from Buck. Probably more than Buck realized and the call he’d gotten from Hondo earlier started to fill in a few blanks that Buck had conveniently forgotten to tell Steve about. Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz’s name had first popped up in Buck’s phone calls almost two years ago. Former army medic and silver star recipient—Steve hadn’t looked up him up before now but his name had been among the ones he’d given to Chin to look into. 

Buck had name dropped Eddie a lot in phone calls. Eddie and his son seemed to be tightly interwoven into Buck’s life just like Danny was in his—Steve had even teased Buck about this but Buck had shut it down quickly and been unwilling to discuss anything further the one time Steve brought it up.  Meeting Eddie at the firehouse had made all sorts of thoughts run through Steve’s head but he’d decided to hear from Buck first before making any snap judgments.  Buck cared for Eddie a lot before now and Steve wasn’t going to break anything further for Buck. 

Hopefully he’d asked Hondo to do the right thing earlier.  Hondo had grudgingly agreed to his suggestions. 

The sound of Buck crying into Danny’s shoulder finally wound down and Steve left his hiding spot.  

Danny was cradling Buck’s larger form that was spread out on the couch, head resting on Danno’s chest.  Danny didn’t stop carding his hand through Buck’s hair as Steve quietly sat on the coffee table, eyes taking in the tear stains on Buck’s asleep face. 

“Did you know?”  Danny asked quietly. 

“Not about the tsunami before our flight... not the details.”

“He’s been through a lot.”

Steve nodded, hands clasped in front of him. Danny was staring at Buck’s face, frowning in thought. 

“I’m glad you brought him here.  He needs us. Needs therapy.”

“I agree.”

Danny looked up at him. “You’re agreeing about therapy,” he stated flatly. 

Steve shrugged. “I’m not always against it.”

“Only for yourself.”

Now that was... unfair. “I’ve talked to counselors a few times but mostly I usually just need time.”

Danny was unimpressed. “I’ve offered to pay for it and you still won’t go.”

Steve could remember the first time Danny had made that offer—it was when he’d used the grenade to open up the pawn shop door.  That hadn’t been his finest moment but it’d gotten the job done and he didn’t regret it.  “We’re not talking about me right now.”

Danny’s gaze dropped back to Buck. “No we’re not.  He’s going to be okay though.”

“Yeah Danno,” Steve agreed, gesturing towards Buck. “Do you need me to?”

Danny shook his head  in the negative at Steve’s offer to move Buck. “No.  Come back down at your usual time. Not the worst way I’ve ever slept.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed reluctantly. 

“Take him swimming with you when you get up,” Danny whispered as he stepped around the couch. 

“What?” 

“He needs to know he can still do things—still get out there. He trusts you to keep him safe.  It’s why he came with you instead of fighting to stay in California.”

Steve stared at Danny dumbly. “How do you know?”

Danny wiggled a bit to get more comfortable, careful not to upset Buck. “Because he’s trusted you for a long time and you came when he needed you to—not when he asked.”

Nodding but not really knowing how Danny knew this about Buck, Steve went back to bed. He’d be back down in an hour and a half for his usual swim. 

He didn’t think he’d sleep but he was out as soon as he laid back down in bed.  Danny had Buck.  Buck was safe with Danny. Everything would work itself out eventually. 

 

 

Notes:

Lyrics: What You Thought You Needed by Jack Johnson from Sleep Through the Static.

 

next chapter: Steve and Danny start putting Buck emotionally back together and he officially joins 5-0. Eddie faces the consequences of his choices.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 4: To Conquer Our Fear We Must First Face the Past

Summary:

Eddie learns the consequences of his actions. Steve and Danny get a better idea of just what has been going on in Buck’s life. Buck gets another cooking lesson—this time in Hawaiian cuisine.

Trouble travels fast when you’re specifically designed 

For crash testin’ or wearin’ wool sunglasses in the afternoon

Come on and tell us what you’re tryin’ to prove

 

‘Cause it’s a battle when you dabble in war

You store it up, unleash it, then you piece it together

Whether the storm drain running rampant just stamp it

And send it to somebody who’s pretending to care

Eddie

It was probably only twenty or thirty minutes but time crawled by for Eddie. He could hear others walking past the doorway but he was left alone other than one brief visit from another SWAT officer who walked into the room, saw Eddie and stopped in his tracks. He was the young guy who had picked Sergeant Kay up yesterday—god was it only yesterday? It seemed like forever ago...

“Deacon?” The man asked.

It took a moment for Eddie to remember that Deacon was Sergeant Kay’s first name. 

“Went to talk to Hondo,” Eddie offered, looking up from where he’d had his face buried in his hands. He was so tired and the coffee wasn’t helping. 

“And he left you here uncuffed?”  The guy’s last name was Street and stenciled above his heart in white Eddie noted. 

“Yes.”

“O—kay.” The man stood there awkwardly for a moment and then hightailed it out of the room. 

That had been the only break in the silence. Eddie was otherwise left to stew in his own thoughts which were anything but quiet. Most of his thoughts centered on how he’d failed Buck, failed Christopher and generally failed as a father.  His anger at Shannon wasn’t gone—she’d left him by himself and then Buck had been taken from him as well. The part of Eddie’s thoughts around Buck were particularly painful so he instead focused on Christopher. 

How was he going to provide for Christopher if he lost his job? His racing thoughts didn’t provide any solace—Pepa and Abuela were going to be so disappointed in him and if his parents didn’t try again to take Christopher from him again...

His next visitor slammed the door open so hard that it bounced off the wall. Athena’s presence was larger than life as she marched into the room dressed in civilian clothes but her badge prominently displayed on her right hip. Hondo and Sergeant Kay trailed her with Bobby bringing up the rear, face pale as he took in Eddie. 

The way that Athena’s eyes bulged at seeing his face wasn’t reassuring. “Oh baby,” she marched to his side and picked up the cold pack, tilting his face with a hand on his chin. Anger and worry chased each other as she pursed her lips, observing the damage he’d done to himself. Her thumb was gentle as it probed the edges of the bruise over his cheek but it still made him wince. Eyes softening with reflected pain as she tilted his face first one way and then the other, the ice pack feather light as she reapplied it with too much kindness. 

“What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” She half whispered to Eddie only. 

Bobby’s own choked off gasp was loud in the silent room as he got a good look at Eddie’s face. “Eddie? Are you sure you want me here?”

He firmly pulled his face out of Athena’s grasp, taking the cold pack and pressing it hard into his face so it hurt more.  Athena’s worry wasn’t warranted—he was going to physically be fine and he’d face whatever consequences that came. He didn’t—couldn’t—look at Bobby to see his reaction. 

“You might as well be,” he muttered.  He was pretty sure that Bobby would be in his corner but he’d have to follow department policy.  If he was going to lose his job it would be better to just have the bandaid ripped off all at once.

Athena turned on her heel to look at the SWAT officers after her hand dropped away at Eddie’s words. “What is he being charged with?”

There was a pause as Hondo and Sergeant Kay both looked at each other and had another one of those silent conversations they seemed so fond of.  The arch of Sergeant Kay’s eyebrow made Hondo roll his eyes. 

“He’s not being charged—yet,” he bit off the last word. Hondo gestured for everyone to sit and waited for them to do so. 

Athena took the seat closed to Eddie, turning to face the two officers and putting herself between him and them. Bobbie fumbled for a moment and then hesitantly took the seat on Eddie’s other side. The part of his brain that was completely inappropriate thought this was the weirdest parody of a parent teacher conference ever. 

He contained the inappropriate laugh that wanted to bubble out. They already had a low opinion of him—no need to make them think he was crazy too. 

Hondo was the one who spoke after a pointed jab from Sergeant Kay’s elbow. “We’re going to offer a deal—and you’re going to take it,” he growled at Eddie.

“We’ll hear this deal first before he makes up his mind,” Athena interjected coldly. She pulled Eddie’s hand and laced it in hers, purposefully putting their conjoined hands on the table where the SWAT officers could see it. 

Sergeant Kay raised both his eyebrows at Hondo before speaking. “It’s a good deal and I think you’ll find it more than generous.”

“Still not hearing what’s in this deal of yours,” Athena’s tone was razor sharp. “Elaborate please.”

Hondo coughed to clear his throat, getting all eyes on him before he spoke. “We won’t be charging him as long as he fulfills a few.... conditions.”

“What conditions?” Athena’s grip tightened around his hand. He didn’t speak. 

“Mr. Diaz will be seek counseling for anger and his other issues—from a licensed therapist. He will authorize regular check ins from either myself or Sergeant Kay—we will be checking that he is attending all scheduled appointments and making progress but we will not be privy to the exact details of anything he chooses to discuss with his therapist.  Any further involvement in street fights will invalidate this offer and he will be charged and his case handed over to the DA.” 

Athena took a deep breath in through her nose, her jaw clenched and she spoke through her teeth. “And?  Anything else? For how long will he have to comply with these conditions?”

“Until it’s no longer necessary,” Hondo leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table as he spoke directly to Eddie. “I’m sure we’ve reached an understanding?”

The reference to their prior conversation wasn’t necessary since it still was running on repeat through his mind along with all the spiraling thoughts about how he’d failed to be there for Buck. How he’d failed to see what was going on right in front of him.  He’d been so blind...

“I understand. What else?”

There had to be more that Hondo thought was necessary.  If the other man knew Buck at all and thought that Eddie deserved more punishment he’d agree in a heartbeat. Eddie was beginning to think he was incapable of knowing what he needed to do for Buck at this point.  Hondo had been right—he’d seen what Eddie couldn’t. He’d follow whatever the man thought was appropriate. 

Athena’s grip on his hand was getting painful but he ignored it. “Eddie—“

“Don’t.”  He turned his head to look at her.  Athena’s eyes were bright and she was bitting her lips to stop from saying anything further.  She wanted to help... and he got that.  But the way she’d help was stopping him from doing any more damage. He needed to get control of things again—to stop being so out of control and hurting people. 

Her eyes were wet but she gave him a small nod. Squeezing his hand once she released her grip until their hands were just resting together. “Okay....”

Hondo and Sergeant Kay were looking at each other.  Sergeant Kay had his arms crossed over his chest and he was eying Hondo expectantly. Hondo grimaced and made a face that Eddie didn’t know how to interpret—it was partly exasperated but it was also mulish. 

Finally, Sergeant Kay spoke as he broke off the nonverbal discussion he’d been having with Hondo.  “If any other problems come up we will address them at that time.”

“Other problems?” Eddie asked which was echoed by Bobby.

“Work issues or if there are any more issues with regards to your friend Buck,” Sergeant Kay clarified. 

The mention of Buck’s name made both Athena and Bobby shift in their seats. “What do you mean issues with Buck?” Bobby asked, his hand seeking Athena’s.

Hondo eyed Bobby, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Mr. Diaz and myself have reached an understanding.”

“What understanding? Bobby and Athena echoed each other,.  Athena’s eyes were darting back and forth between Eddie and Hondo and she continued on while Bobby fell silent. “What does Buck have to do with this?”

“Nothing.  He has nothing to do with tonight,” Eddie interjected firmly. 

“Eddie—“ Bobby tried to talk but Eddie held his hand up to silence his captain. 

“I’ve been assured by these officers that Buck is fine but I did have a chat with Sergeant Kay earlier today at Buck’s apartment... but I repeat. Buck didn’t have anything to do with tonight.”

Bobby looked like he wanted to ask something further but Athena reached over to take his hand and squeezed it, shaking her head when Bobby turned to her. “If you’re okay with this then we’ll make it happen.”

“I am,” Eddie was firm. If Hondo wanted to make this harder then he would and it was reassuring that if he screwed up someone would punish him like he’d deserve. Hondo had no reason to be nice to Eddie and he deserved it. He’d been screwing up for a while and he’d hurt Buck. 

Maybe he’d been hurting more people than he thought.  He’d messed up—was messing up.  It was a relief to hand control to someone else and he wouldn’t fight it. 

Eddie could almost hear Buck telling him to listen to Hondo and Sergeant Kay. He’d follow that inner voice that sounded like his best friend—he didn’t trust his own instincts right now. 

Athena and Hondo proceeded to hammer out the details of what sort of monitoring Hondo and Sergeant Kay would be doing with him but he just sat and listened, not really feeling like arguing it and trusting.  At the end of the negotiation, Eddie would start by checking in with Sergeant Kay—or Deacon as he insisted they call him—daily by telephone and twice weekly in person.  Depending on how Eddie was doing this could be spun out to less frequent but the cops were understandably worried about finding him at an illegal fight.  

The way that Athena’s lips had thinned at that detail told him he was going to get an earful at some point—and he deserved it.  

Bobby had made the recommendation of the department therapist who he’d tried to get Eddie to see before but he’d resisted.  Eddie had... he had seen a therapist before but he’d stopped because of reasons. Reasons that weren’t relevant at the moment but he could agree that he would at least try again.

The old memory of how Buck always shut down when talking about department mandated therapy made him pause in uneasiness for a moment before Bobby vouched for the therapist that he’d be referring Eddie to.  The urge to reach out and ask Buck about why he hadn’t liked the therapist was squashed immediately—he would not put any more of his problems on Buck.  Eddie would... he would figure this out himself for now and then he’d try talking to Buck when he wouldn’t hurt him either by accident or on purpose,

Buck didn’t deserve to put up with the mess he’d become. 

It didn’t surprise Eddie when Bobby mentioned that he’d be suspended at least briefly pending the recommendation of his therapist. While he wasn’t being currently charged with anything, Bobby was going to make it a medical leave instead of a legal one. Eddie wouldn’t be allowed back to work until he’d been evaluated and cleared. 

Which was more than fair. He wasn’t... he deserved worse but he couldn’t find the words to speak up. 

As the negotiations completed, he was released officially into Athena’s and Bobby’s custody—he was being allowed home and they were going to give him a ride. 

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. The real interrogation was about to begin and he was so tired.

***

Climbing into the back seat of Bobby’s SUV, his ribs twinged painfully.  He’d dry swallowed some Tylenol that Athena had in her purse but had declined any further medical assessment.  He knew his ribs were just bruised not broken—he could do his own assessment.  He was bruised and sore but nothing for anyone to do anything about other than give it time and rest. 

Bobby hesitated at the door, his eyes sad as he scanned Eddie. He was careful to close the door after making sure Eddie was securely buckling himself in. The closing of the driver and passenger doors sounded like the slamming shut of a jail cell. Bobby was driving so Athena could turn in her seat to watch Eddie, her eyes cataloguing each mark on his skin. 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” She asked, tone deceptively neutral. 

“Not really.”  He really didn’t. What could he even say?

“Explain,” she stated flatly. “An illegal street fight?  I thought you had more sense. Of all the men in my life I thought you at least had that much sense in your pretty head.”

Sighing, he tried to melt back into the seat cushions as he tilted his head back. “I... don’t have any defense for why.”

“How about you start with the how long.”

His eyes had slid closed and he opened them now to look at her.  Athena’s face was covered by her tough cop mask but her eyes gave it all away. They were sad and full of fear and pain.  He’d done that—hurt her.  He was doing that again and again to people without meaning to, screwing up. Eddie’d tried after Afghanistan to keep everything buttoned down and contained but the relief he’d been finding lately had only been hurting other people. 

He was such an asshole. Why did any of them care if all he was doing was hurting them?

“It’s been.... going on for a few months.”

Bobby stepped on the gas peddle a bit harder than was necessary as he backed out of the parking spot and the abrupt smashing of the brake made Eddie rock in his seat. “Months?”

“Months,” Eddie muttered as he braced himself and Bobby hit the gas again hard enough to rock him, unable to meet Athena’s eyes. “Since... a bit after the tsunami.”

“Why?” Was the hard question from Athena. “You have Christopher. Us. Your Abuela and Aunt, the rest of the 118. Buck. Why Eddie?”

“Because,” his throat was tight and he could barely talk.  He didn’t have Buck anymore and it was his fault because he couldn’t stop being angry. “Because I just needed to stop being angry all the time.  I thought that...I don’t know what I thought....”

“Oh baby,” Athena whispered. “Eddie you know that physical violence isn’t—“

“I know,” he interrupted sharply, his voice hoarse with restrained tears.  He wasn’t going to cry. He deserved them being angry with him. 

“And Christopher—“

“Don’t,” He interrupted, breaths coming quick through his nose as he tried to keep it together.  “Don’t Athena.  I know I screwed up but.... Just don’t.”

She open and closed her mouth, her train of thought momentarily disrupted by his harsh response. “Eddie.... you can’t do this again.”

“I know,” he lowly promised.  Oh he wouldn’t make this mistake again—he’d learned his lesson here. He didn’t know what he’d do in the future but he wouldn’t do this again. Hell, maybe this therapist that Bobby was recommending would actually work where the last one didn’t because he couldn’t....

He just couldn’t keep doing this. 

The remainder of the car ride was mostly silent. Pulling up outside his house, Eddie could see his truck in the driveway.  He hadn’t even thought of what happened to it but he could guess since Lena was sitting on his front step, head hung as she avoided looking at the car and hoping that her hair hid her face from their captain. Bobby jerkily put his car in park and turned halfway around in his seat to meet Eddie’s eyes, arm stretch across to rest on Athena’s headrest and expression constipated. “What is she doing here Eddie?” He asked quietly, authority lacing his words.

“I don’t know,” Eddie deflected. 

Athena arched one eyebrow up at him, unimpressed with his answer. “Want to try that again?”

“No,” Eddie said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Any other questions?”

Bobby clenched his jaw in frustration, muscle jumping as he ground his teeth. “I’ll call you later today with the official notice of leave and with your appointment information.”

“Fine.” He reached for the door.

“We will need to talk about this further,” Bobby insisted.

Opening the door a few inches, Eddie braced himself and managed to actually meet Bobby’s eyes. “Yeah. But not right now.”

He didn’t bother to say goodbye as he levered himself upright and out the door, taking a little stumble with the first step but managing to right himself against the pain in his ribs. Careful not to slam the door shut behind, he waited until Bobby pulled away from the curb to approach Lena.  

The porch light was off so it was only moonlight that lit up Lena’s face.  Her eyes were big in the darkness and she nervously chewed her lip. “How much trouble are you in?” She asked softly. 

“Less than I deserve.  Do you have my keys?”

Lena stood and dug in her pockets before removing his keys and his cell phone. She hesitated a moment before handing them over. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie looked up at the sky.  It was a cloudless night and in the light pollution of LA you could barely make out a few of the brightest stars.  Lena was sorry—well he was too. “It’s... don’t worry about me Lena.  You have a ride home or do you want to crash on the couch?”

“I... I have someone picking me up in a few minutes.”

“Do you want to wait inside?” He asked, trying to be polite.  He was tired and in pain but he wouldn’t kick her to the curb. It wasn’t Lena’s fault he made the decision to participate in the fights—she may have enabled him but he had been the one to say yes.  Hondo had been right to call him out, to take responsibility for his actions. 

“No,” was her quick answer and she inclined her head towards the living room window which had the curtain pulled back at an odd angle.  “Your aunt has been watching me from the window and I don’t think she likes me very much.”

Eddie considered this.  Lena was probably right—he could only guess what Pepa thought of her showing up with his truck but without him. He was probably lucky that she hadn’t called the police on Lena. “It’s up to you....”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he stood there awkwardly, keys and phone in his hand for a moment. “Well goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” Lena agreed, moving aside so he could open the door which was locked. 

Stepping inside, he saw movement in the kitchen. Pepa was awake still.

Rolling his shoulders and wincing at the pull, he locked the door and put his keys on their hook before removing his boots. Bending down made him dizzy and he had to put a hand out to stop himself from toppling over and he bit his tongue to stop from swearing. 

“Eddito?” Pepa called in concern as she left the kitchen, coming towards him. “Who was that with your truck?”

Righting himself, he hissed as she turned on the overhead light in the entryway blinding him momentarily.

Her gasp was loud in the silence. “Eddito?  Wha—“

“I’m fine,” he cut her off before she could ask the obvious question.  

Pepa was wrapped in a sweater that he’d bought her for her birthday with Christopher, her slippered feet silent on the floor as she rushed to his side.  Her hands were up, covering her mouth as she stared at him wide-eyed before holding them out in mid-air as if she wasn’t sure where to touch him for comfort.  “Eddito.... dios.  What did you...”

“It looks worse than it is,” he tried to reassure her.”

Pepa’s mouth closed with a click and her fine eyebrows turned downward in a vee as she pursed her lips in exasperation at his claim. “You need a doctor—did you see one?”

“No I don’t need a doctor,” he tried to push past her into the living room. “I’m a medic and I know what needs a doctor and I don’t.”

Pepa’s hand on his chest was enough to stop him in his tracks even if her sub-zero tone wasn’t. “Edmundo Diaz—stop right there. What happened.”  She added when it didn’t look like he was going to explain, “Start talking.”

Scolded, Eddie longed for the couch to rest his sore body that was only ten feet away. “I got in a fight.”

“Well obviously,” she rolled her eyes. “With who?  Was it over that girl outside?”

“No,” he hastily denied. “Lena... I wasn’t fighting because of Lena.”

One of her eyebrows climbed upwards incredulously as she folded her arms across her breasts.  “Interesting choice of words.”

Damn Pepa for knowing him too well. “It was my fault,” he insisted as he tried to go around her and swayed as his sock clad feet slipped slightly on the flooring. 

Pepa caught him, making him yelp as her hand landed right on the sore point of his ribs and he jumped.  “Dios.  Sit before you fall down you overgrown idiota.” 

With Pepa’s help he made it to the couch which he collapsed on gratefully, slumping to take the weight off his ribs and the impressive bruise he’d managed to miss on his shoulder. Pepa hovered fretfully before getting a pack of frozen peas out of the freezer and handing it to him to put on his face.  The coolness of the frozen vegetables was at first painful then delightfully numbing as the cold penetrated the bruising on his face. 

“Meds?” Pepa asked.

“I already took some,” he waved her away but did take the glass of water she offered. 

Perching herself on the coffee table, Pepa eyed him worriedly. “Eddie.... I’m serious. What happened?”

What had happened indeed. Debating how much to tell her without making her worry even more he was distracted by the noise of Chris’ crutches hitting the wood floor of the hallway. 

“Dad?” Chris called and his breath stuck painfully in. His chest. “Dad?”

Pepa’s startled eyes met his and both of them began moving. Pushing him back into the cushions, Pepa grabbed the Spider-Man blanket and put it over Eddie. “Lay back,” she hissed.

Complying, he was mostly covered by the time that Chris entered the living room. “Dad?” He asked in confusion, staring at Eddie’s face. 

Trying his best to look completely innocent and likely failing, Eddie greeted his son. “Mijo... what are you doing up?”

“I heard you come in and Tia is here and you were gone and...” Chris looked back and forth between the two adults, nose scrunching in confusion. “What happened to your face Dad?  Did you fall and hit something?”

Scrambling mentally, Eddie went with the provided suggestion. “Yes mijo. I wasn’t looking where I was going and took a tumble.”

“Are you okay?” Chris hesitantly approached, trying to climb on the sofa with Eddie. 

Bracing to accept Chris’ slight weight, he let his son curl up on top of him even as it made breathing a lot more difficult. He shook his head when Pepa made the move to lift Chris off him, letting his arm snake out from under the blanket to wrap around Chris and anchor him in a slightly more comfortable place. “Mijo you should be asleep.”

“No.  I missed you and I dreamed about the water again and I just wanted....” Chris trailed off, amber eyes flicking towards Pepa before burying his nose in the fleece blanket between them. 

Carding his hand through Chris’ curls, he kissed the top of his head. “You wanted what, mijo?” He whispered, dropping his voice to give Chris the illusion of privacy even as Pepa stepped back a bit. 

“I want you and... Bucky, Daddy. I haven’t seen him in forever and I miss him and you weren’t home when I woke up earlier.”

He closed his eyes in pain.  Of course Chris missed Buck just like he did and the reminder was just another twist of the knife in his side.  He had so much to make up for. “I’m here now mijo,” he assured Chris. “And it’s nighttime but maybe in the morning we can—“

Eddie stopped.  He was going to suggest they give Buck a call and see if he could come over but that wasn’t an option.  It had been so automatic to begin to offer that, as if time of night or day had ever mattered before to Buck where Christopher was concerned. But Eddie didn’t know where Buck had gone or if he would even accept a phone call or text now if it was associated with him. 

He wouldn’t blame Buck for ignoring him.... but he knew Buck would never ignore Chris just because they had been having problems. The realization of just how cruel he’d been about withdrawing his own son from his best friend hit him like another blow. He, Edmundo Diaz, was a grade A asshole. No wonder Shannon had wanted to divorce him since he evidently hadn’t learned anything from his prior mistakes.

“Dad?” Worry colored his son’s voice and it hurt so much.

Tangling his hands in the curls, he gave a few strokes down the back of head and neck, encouraging Christopher to settle. Laying another kiss on his son’s head, he began murmuring to him softly in Spanish, not sayin much before he made a promise that he’d keep no matter what happened in the morning. “Lo siento mijo. We’ll call him tomorrow and see if he’s able to talk.” 

Chris wriggled in his grip before stilling as he got comfortable. “Okay Daddy,” he said with a yawn.  “I miss Bucky.”

“I know mijo. Me too.”  The hole in his chest had Buck’s name on it and it hurt it was so empty that it almost distracted him from the physical pain of the fight.  

***

Just cash in your blanks for little toy tanks

Learn how to use them  and abuse them and choose them

Over conversations, relationships are overrated

“I hated everyone” said the Sun

 

And so I will cook all your books

You’re too good looking and mistaken

You could watch it instead

From the comfort of your burnin’ beds

Or you can sleep through the static

Steve

He’d gotten another hour’s sleep before his internal alarm clock told him it was time to get up.  Quickly changing into his board shorts, he fastened his watch onto his wrist that doubled as a heart rate monitor and distance tracker.  Steve made a note that he’d need to get Buck one if he joined him on the regular. 

Softly padding down the stairs, he smiled as he saw Danny’s ruffled hair sticking up every which way from how he’d slumped into the arm of the couch, the grey predawn twilight lighting the room through the lanai doors along with the glow of the television.  Buck was curled into his chest, Danny’s hands still tangled in his hair as he slept. Approaching the sofa, Steve let his fingers rest next to Buck’s temple and stroked lightly in the same signal he used on missions to wake him, 

Buck’s blue eyes opened to slits but he didn’t move until he identified Steve standing over him. Old ingrained habits were hard to break. 

“Swim?” Steve whispered and got a minuscule nod after a moment. 

Wiggling this way and that, Buck extracted himself from Danny’s hold—somehow not waking the other man. Curling forward to stand, Danny made a noise in his sleep and rolled over to face the back of the couch as Buck stood. Turning to look at Danny with Steve, they exchanged amused grins. Danno was cute when he was asleep Steve idly thought as he pulled the blankets more firmly around Danny’s smaller form. 

Handing Buck a spare pair of board shorts, Steve waited for him as he changed before they headed to the beach.  Buck’s steps became dragging as they got closer to the water. “Are you okay?” Steve asked patiently.  “You only need to do this if you want to.”

Frowning at the dark water, Buck stretched his arms out in front of him and then towards the sky, eyes focused on the waves that were close to low tide mark  Steve couldn’t tell if he was stalling or if he needed the extra stretching before exercise due to his recent injuries. “Buck?”

“I need to do this,” was the answer and Buck strode into the next wave, yelping as the water splashed on him. “Colder than I thought it was going to be,” he groused back to Steve.

Laughing, Steve hit the start button to record his workout. “We’ll go out to the point and back but you’ll need to let me know if you’re getting too tired since it’s been a while.”

“I’ll be fine,” Buck insisted as he moved slightly deeper and then ducked down into an oncoming wave to get his face and hair wet. “Brrr...”

Walking into the water himself, he didn’t find the water all that cold but it was refreshing. This was the best way to start out the day—Danno didn’t know what he was missing.  “Either way—if you start tiring you let me know. This way.”

Entering the water, he took a few strokes further from shore. Buck followed him and soon they were angling away from his house and out into deeper water. Settling into a regular rhythm, Steve lingered back far enough that Buck was alongside him and closer to shore. Buck did struggle a bit until they got going and he seemed to settle instead of fight the waves like he had with the first few when the water had hit his face. 

The steady rhythm of strokes and the flutter of their kicks propelled them along as they traveled parallel to shore. As they approached the point, the current became slightly more treacherous but Buck shook it off and even pulled ahead a bit to set a fast pace. Buck seemed tireless, putting his face in the water and propelling himself forward at a good clip to remind Steve that Buck had been only a few fractions of a second behind some of the lap records during his time on Steve’s team. 

Reaching the turn back spot, They paused just briefly for Steve to check on Buck before heading back.  Knowing where he was going seemed to spur Buck on and he began to make Steve work to keep up. 

Relishing the burn in his muscles, Steve ducked his head under the oncoming wave and put on a burst of speed. Buck was conquering his fears. 

***

Returning home, Buck headed directly for the outside shower to rinse off. His gait was slightly stilted and Steve made note that it took him a moment before he dunked his head under the stream of water almost as if to brace himself but he did it without prompting. Handing Buck one of the towels he told him to go fully wash up inside—Buck would make do with a Navy shower most likely—old ingrained habits. 

Rinsing off the salt and sand so he wouldn’t bring it inside, when Steve stepped through the lanai door the water was still running in the downstairs bathroom—Buck was taking a bit longer than he would have guessed. The smell of bacon frying told him that Danny was in the kitchen.  

“Babe,” Danny greeted him, swiftly mixing pancake batter. “Coffee’s ready.”

Hopping up on the counter, Steve took the offered cup from Danny and stuck his nose in to take a deep inhale. Fresh Kona with a pat of butter added to make it bulletproof. Danny rolled his eyes on him before going back to pouring a set of pancakes on the griddle and moving the bacon around so it didn’t burn. “How many do you want?”

“Four,” Steve answered, listening as the water continued to run. “Better make at least twice that. Buck worked up an appetite.”

“Hn.  Wanna tell me what that phone call was about last night?”  Danny asked, eyeing the closed bathroom door. 

Wrinkling his nose, he took a sip of his coffee. “One of Buck’s coworkers got in some trouble.”

“Which one?”  Danny turned away from the stove to meet his eyes, brows lowered in concern. “They’re family babe.”

“Eddie Diaz.”

Danny winced. “The one with the kid that he talks about?”

Steve thought of the files that were likely sitting on his desk with the full details of Buck’s entire fire crew’s lives. “Yeah.  He was picked up by Hondo in a sweep of an illegal street fighting ring.”

“What?” Danny was a bit too loud and Steve raised his eyebrows and pointedly inclined his head towards the closed door. 

“Say it a bit louder Danny—I don’t think Buck heard you.”

Danny’s expression became pissy but he dropped his volume. “Alright.  So what happened?  Kid’s going to worry since he’s here and not there given how he talks about him..”

“I asked Hondo to keep him out of jail and get him help.”  Steve swirled his coffee, letting it cool just a bit more before continuing to drink. “Chin’s got all the details.”

“So that’s what Chin was up to,” Danny muttered, flipping the pancakes with an easy flick of the wrist. “Was that it?”

“Yeah... Hondo said that he was at Buck’s apartment yesterday looking for him.”  What Hondo had actually said was that Deacon was concerned about Diaz—that he looked stressed and on his last legs emotionally. Chin better have dug up what exactly was going on at that firehouse or he was going to have to ask Buck and Steve was pretty sure the kid wasn’t going to want to tell him without a lot of wheedling. 

“Who? Eddie?”

Steve nodded. “Also said that he looked distraught—probably hadn’t slept because he had to have gone there straight after his shift ended.”

He could practically see the wheels turning in Danny’s head as he poked at the pancakes.   “Was Eddie working when you did your meet and greet with the captain?”

Steve hadn’t told him about meeting Captain Robert Nash—he’d just assumed, correctly. Danno may know him a bit too well if he was getting this predictable. 

“Yeah,” Steve thought back to his first impression of Eddie Diaz. Buck’s coworker had good instincts and had almost immediately pegged both Steve and Hondo as someone to be wary of—it hadn’t been because they’d had their badges on—and the way he’d held himself and watched them had piqued Steve’s interest at the time.  He’d also noticed the telltale marks on Diaz’s hands that said he’d been punching something without taping. “Buck’s never mentioned that Diaz has a temper....”

Danny took the first two pancakes off and poured another pair. The water cut off and they shared a look.  Steve didn’t think Diaz had been hitting Buck—Buck knew how to hit back and was no victim even run down like he was and Danny obviously agreed with him. They needed more information—either from Buck or Chin. 

“I’m going to shower,” Steve excused himself, turning over the little he knew about Eddie Diaz over like a puzzle. The man was important to Buck or he wouldn’t have bothered asking Hondo for the favor. He needed an hour or two with the information Chin had gathered before trying to tease more details out of Buck.  

Maybe he’d ask Danny to get Buck checked off at the range—it’d give them something more to bond over and Danny could keep an eye on Buck while Steve gathered more information. 

But first pancakes. 

***

Freshly dressed, shaved and showered, he rejoined Danny and Buck for breakfast.  Buck was wolfing down a stack of pancakes and Danny was practically cooing at him as he encouraged Buck’s appetite—Steve recognized that look from experience.  It was the same one that Danny had used on him when he’d hovered over Steve after North Korea.  Danny was going to put some weight back on Buck or else. 

Steve hadn’t needed the five pounds he’d gained from Danny’s cooking then but he hadn’t the heart to deny Danny’s need to take care of him.  It seemed Danny had found another target to focus on for once. 

“—don’t let any of these people tell you that pineapples belong in everything,” Danny gestured emphatically with a piece of syrup drenched pancake on the end fo his fork.  “If you let them they put it on everything. Barbecue. Chicken. Or what I find truly criminal—pizza.”

“Don’t go slandering pineapple Danno,” Steve teased as he sat and pulled the platter of pancakes closer before stabling a stack and transferring them to his own plate. 

Buck tried to talk around a mouth full of pancake but stopped himself from being completely rude and swallowed before speaking. “Pineapple’s not that bad...”

Danny shot a wounded look at Steve. “Have you already corrupted him?  Is this something you do with everyone you meet?”

Buck laughed as he took another bite of pancake leaving Steve to defend himself. 

“What do you have against bromeliads Danno?” Steve smiled as he began to really wind Danny up. “Hawaiian pizza is great.”

The scoffing noise Danny made sounded like it hurt his vocal cords. “How many times do I have to tell you that pizza is moz, sauce and dough. Maybe some pepperoni if you’re feeling fancy—“ and Danny was off on a rant he’d repeated so many times.  

It never failed to amuse Steve though. 

Exchanging a grin with Buck, they both dug into the pancakes that Danny had made that were pure fluffy goodness. The swim had worked up an appetite and he was glad to see Buck seemed lighter this morning as if some of the weight had been removed from his shoulders. 

They made quick work of cleanup before heading out for work, Buck pulled into the passenger seat of Danny’s camaro.  Steve followed in his truck.  

Arriving at headquarters, they were greeted by Kono who had a bunch of equipment pulled out with a gleam in her eyes. “Morning!” 

“Kono,” Steve greeted her with a hug.  “I thought you’d be surfing.”

“Went earlier,” she dismissed his concern as she reached for Danny for a hug and then moved onto a surprised looking Buck who didn’t know what to do with the Hawaiian woman wrapped around his midsection who was giving him a shark-like grin.  “I decided I wanted to be the one to see how your baby seal shoots.”

Buck squawked a bit at being called a baby. “I’m not a baby anything—“  

A throat clearing had them all looking towards the computer table. Chin was watching them all in amusement. “I take it this is our newest recruit?” He asked Steve.

“Buck,” Steve gestured towards Chin. “This is Chin Ho Kelly. Chin this is Evan Buckley but he goes by Buck.”

Chin held out his hand to shake which was taken and he greeted their newest member, “Buck—Aloha.  It’s great to finally meet you.  Welcome to Hawai’i.” 

“It’s good to meet you as well.  I’ve heard great things about his team from Steve.”

Clapping Buck on the back, Steve reassured him. “It’s your team now too.”

So sue him—he was feeling a bit possessive over Buck at the moment.  He wasn’t being properly appreciated by his fire house. 

Kono quickly claimed Buck and had him help carry all the different guns they regularly used down to the shooting range with Danny’s help which left Steve alone in the office with Chin. Steve waited until they had been gone for five minutes before turning to Chin.  “What do you have for me?”

Chin’s fingers danced across the computer table to bring up a set of files.  “This is what I have on the members of Los Angelas fire house 118 as well as the stuff that Hondo sent over after I asked.”

Steve went straight for the folder labeled Edmundo Diaz and opened it. Chin had managed to obtain a significant amount of information—including service records. Two tours in Afghanistan as a medic with an impressive list of duty assignments but the last note gives him pause as a separate report is attached.  

Chin must have had someone over at Pearl pull this. 

Edmundo Diaz had been awarded a silver star—the third highest military award for valor. Scanning the details, it appeared that Diaz’s black hawk had been shot down in one of the most notorious combat zones—the so-called Valley of the Dead. Despite being shot twice with a dislocated shoulder and two broken bones the man had hauled his unit out of the crashed helicopter to safety with the only casualty being attributed to the crash itself. 

Based on the dates listed he’d separated from the army not long after and his discharge was an honorable one. There’s a copy of a newspaper article from El Paso, Texas that talks about local hero’s and the picture of a soldier had the caption underneath noting that it was a returning Sgt. Eddie Diaz.  It’s a picture that Steve’s seen in a thousand faces over the course of his career. Young, tired and haunted but back straight and doing his uniform proud, silver star hanging over the heart from it’s red, white and blue striped ribbon that matched the one Steve had on his own dress uniform. 

Diaz had served with honor.  It was too bad Steve hadn’t met him then—he would have been a good teammate to recruit even if he was army. It was tough separating and a lot of guys struggled with it which Steve guessed might have happened given the employment history following showed multiple jobs—up to three at a time. The guy probably had almost no time to sleep. 

There was a span of several years before his graduation date was noted from the LA fire academy and his employment date for the 118 was almost two years ago. Another date notation jumped off the page and he sucked in a breath—Diaz had been widowed only just over two months before Buck’s accident. 

Chin interrupted his thoughts. “There’s something you should see...” and tapped on a video that had been linked with the date only two weeks before Buck’s accident. It was a news report of an incident that firefighters had been called for a boy stuck down a well. One of the turnout coats had Buckley on the back—that was Buck. As Steve watched it was reported that the well collapsed in the rain and there was frantic movement and Buck threw himself down in the mud and began digging with his bare hands. 

The video had been shot from a safe distance away in terrible weather but Buck screamed and fought as he was pulled away—his captain getting in his face while he was restrained by several other firefighters. There was one shot of Buck’s face that was clear—he looked like a wounded animal. The news anchor interrupted but over her shoulder you could see activity as the rescue resumed and the clip ended and Chin selected a second clip.  

The same news cast showed a firefighter that was drenched in mud approaching those that were still working on trying to rescue whoever was in the collapsed well.  Buck’s wet dark blonde head was visible as he’d lost his helmet somewhere in the time elapsed between the first and second video and it snapped up to look at the newcomer before he was shouting and running towards him to embrace the man who collapsed in his arms. 

The newscaster continued speaking and Steve caught the name of the missing firefighter—it was Diaz.  Diaz had been the one Buck had been trying to dig out with his bare hands and was the man Buck was clinging to like life itself in the final seconds of video, Diaz’s arms draped over Buck but barely standing on his own feet. 

The answer for what had been going on with Buck was right here. The Buck that Steve knew would only react like that if... Surely Buck knew? 

Steve went back over the information a second time and reached the same conclusion.  He wondered if Buck knew but Steve was well aware of how you could lie to yourself that someone was just your best friend.  Steve had only known he was in love with Freddie when it had been too late and standing up as his best man at the wedding had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done.  Freddie’s death would have destroyed him if he hadn’t had his missions to bury himself in and people like Buck in his life that kept Freddie’s memory alive. 

Meeting Danny had also helped a lot.  A lot more than he wanted to admit most days. His feelings for Danny was something that he didn’t really want to examine too closely though at the moment and the way Danny had fallen asleep with Buck that morning... 

The picture that Chin had put on the file was an official LAFD one of him in his current uniform and a few years older than the previous army one.  Diaz had lost most of the haunted look of the earlier picture and the smile on his handsome face seemed genuine. Steve could theoretically see the appeal but wondered what it was about the man that made Buck fall for him—the file couldn’t tell him why. He’d have to find that out from Buck himself. 

“Diaz doesn’t have much of a social media presence,” Chin said thoughtfully, interrupting his thoughts again. “But what I could access is just full of Buck and I’m assuming Diaz’s kid.”

Tapping on another link brought up a bunch of saved pictures of Buck, Diaz and a boy that appeared to be a bit younger than Grace. Buck’s face was open and unguarded, his eyes usually landing on either Diaz or the kid. He always had a smile on his face in pictures with them or was making a silly face. 

Diaz was even looking back at Buck in a few of them. 

Steve met Chin’s gaze. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Chin shrugged. “Bad breakup?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “I think they haven’t gotten there yet and that’s part of the problem.”

“Really?” Chin looked thoughtfully at the pictures. “Maybe.”

“What else do you have on the others?” Steve directed his attention towards the other files. Edmundo—Eddie—Diaz was only part of the picture. 

“Captain of the house is Robert “Bobby” Wade Nash. Formerly of the Saint Paul FD now with the LAFD for the last eight years. Previously widowed and recently remarried to LAPD Sergeant Athena Grant-Nash with two living stepchildren and two biological children who died in an apartment fire along with his first wife.” The official picture of Buck’s captain matched the man that Steve had met—it sounded like he’d had a rough life. The way that Buck had mentioned him previously.... Buck hadn’t said it but Steve knew he really looked up to Captain Nash. 

“Who else?” Steve didn’t go into all the details—he’d read them later. 

“Howard “Chimney” Han and Henrietta Wilson are the primary paramedics that work the same shifts as Buck.”  Two more files joined the others—Steve didn’t recognize the faces but he knew the names. Buck had mentioned on one of his calls that when Chimney had been working as interim captain he’d been a terror to deal with... and then there’d been that huge gap between calls and there’d only been one or two since and Buck hadn’t said much. 

“That footage of Buck’s accident... when was that again?”

Chin gave the date.  That had been roughly a week after that phone call—he remembered because Danny had been having a go around with Rachel and he’d had to step back from that spear fishing murder case. Captain Nash was the man who’d talked the bomber down.... he now recognized him from the video. 

Anger flashed through him. The reason Buck’s truck had been bombed was because of Captain Nash. Steve knew it was unreasonable—he should blame the bomber not the target but Buck had been hurt. His hands curled on the edge of the table. 

Chin picked up that he’d figured something out.  “What is it?”

“The real target of that bomb was Nash—he talked the kid with the suicide vest down.”

Frowning at the picture of Nash, Chin expanded on his file and read a bit. “There’s a gap in employment around when his wife and kids died....but that makes sense....”

“Never mind,” Steve insisted. “Anyone else that works with Buck on the regular?”

“There’s other shifts but these are the core group,” Chin paused, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “Also Han is dating Buck’s sister.”

“I knew that,” Steve muttered. He wasn’t sure what to think about Maddie Buckley.  On one hand he was inclined to like her because she was related to Buck.  On the other she hadn’t  reached out to Buck the entire time he’d been in the Seals. Her reappearance in Buck’s life had triggered several phone calls to Steve and he’d only found out after the fact about the whole ex-husband thing and Buck had downplayed that.  “Look into her husband—there was something about that Buck didn’t want to tell me.”

“Name?”

“Doug Kendall.”  Steve could remember that was the name that Buck had given him as an alternative contact in case something happened. So Steve could reach Maddie the absent but beloved sister. 

“You know... normally I’d say you should talk to our new co-worker....”

Steve stopped him before he could say anything further. “This is different Chin.  They weren’t taking care of him and if I know Buck—he’ll forgive them even if they don’t deserve it.  He’s like a brother to me.”

Chin gave him a wary look. “Just remember that you can’t do anything about this unless Buck asks.”

“Then consider us prepared just in case.  Can you send all of this to my office computer?”

“Sure,” and Chin did so with a flick of his wrist. “Just... let Buck decide Steve.”

Steve turned and waved his hand in dismissal.  “I’ll be in my office.”

***

Stuck between channels, my thoughts all quit

I thought about them too much, allowed them to touch

The feelings rained down on the plains all dried and cracked

Waiting for things that never came

 

Shock and awful things to make somebody think

That they have to choose pushing for peace supporting the troops

And either you’re weak or you’ll use brut force-feed

The truth is we say not as we do

Danny

Watching Kono bully Buck around as they entered the firing range, Danny idly wondered how this was going to go. Kono was confident in her skills and regularly got praise on her marksmanship from Steve but Buck was an unknown.  Danny couldn’t decide if Kono’s excitement was because she finally wasn’t the rookie around anymore or if it was because Buck was closer to her age. 

Setting up, he grabbed hearing protection as Kono loaded the targets and sent them down range—twenty five yards out which was the furthest requirement for sign offs.  While she was preoccupied doing that, Danny watched as Buck handled the guns. He quickly checked the three handguns that Kono had picked out and the full clips before sliding his own hearing protection over his ears and a set of safety glasses on. 

The first gun he’d picked had been one of Steve’s—the Sig Sauer P226. He’d left Kono’s Kel Tec and Danny’s Heckler and Koch to the side.

Kono stepped back out of the booth and gestured towards the target. “Show us what you can do brah.”

Waiting until Kono had taken a few more steps away, Buck settled his weight and squared off before taking three shots in quick succession.  He then fidgeted to resettle before aiming down range and emptying the remainder of the clip at a steady measured rate before relaxing, ejecting the spent clip and setting both gun and clip down on the table. 

Kono was already bringing the target up to see how he’d done.  Danny didn’t need to look—he’d bet it was a nice tight grouping like Steve. Instead he watched Buck who was fidgeting and looked uncertain as Kono made a noise of shocked approval. “Wow—how long has it been since you’ve...”

“It’s been a while,” Buck interrupted her, cheeks pinking as he fidgeted.  “I’m sure if you give me more time I’ll—“

“Wait wait wait a minute.  This is you out of practice?” Kono sounded incredulous but Danny was still watching Buck who gave a minute flinch before he managed to mask it. 

“Yes?” He said, sounding uncertain of what Kono was thinking. 

Her gleeful punch to the shoulder was playful and congratulatory, making Buck rock a bit as he hadn’t expected it, eyes wide as he stared at her in surprise.  “Brah—if this is you rusty you can still outshoot most of HPD.”

Buck’s shoulders relaxed their tense line just a bit and he started to perk up a bit. Danny glanced at Kono out of the corner of his eye and saw that she had a look of encouragement on her face and her eyes danced with delight.  She was going to enjoy her regular play dates meetups with her former classmates that she thought neither he nor Steve knew about and the betting money that changed hands when Kono regularly outshot them. Buck was going to be her dark horse at the next match. 

Danny briefly felt sorry for Buck then realized it might help the kid out—he’d make sure Steve obliquely encouraged... on second though Steve would likely arrange a match wanting to show Buck’s talents off.  Danny wouldn’t need to help this along. 

“Danny—look!”  Kono shoved the sheet into his face which he had to grab from her and hold out a bit further so he could get a proper look—he didn’t need glasses Steve!

The man shaped target had a small grouping of shots right over the heart that made a rough circle that had cut through the paper enough for the center of it they were so evenly spaced about three maybe four inches between the furthest shots. Danny was about to remark on it when he saw where the first three shots had gone. Right where it would be between the eyes on the target were three small holes that had just a bare wisp of paper connecting them that was almost even to make a triangle. 

Buck really was a mini-Steve.

Kono replaced the targeting sheet and ran the new one out, encouraging Buck to try her Kel Tec. Buck wasn’t as familiar with that gun but his grouping was still within acceptable parameters to be checked off. Kona had been gleeful before but she was openly enjoying herself as she talked with Buck about guns.  Buck mostly was listening but the kid was giving her his full attention. He also did fine with the Heckler and Koch.  

Taking the target sheets, Danny folded them up to turn in later after having Buck sign them and then he countersigned them as witness along with Kono. Asking Kono to see about getting Buck kitted out with a vest and all the other equipment, Danny left them to it with Kono talking about going to the outside range to see about Buck’s skills with rifles. 

***

Returning to the office, Chin gave him a look the moment he stepped in the door. Inclining his head towards Steve’s closed office door, Chin made himself scarce. 

Grabbing two cups of coffee, he knocked and then entered Steve’s office without waiting for acknowledgement. Steve was staring at his computer with his hands clenched together in front of his chin, face set in the familiar aneurysm expression that made Danny’s blood pressure rise. 

“Babe?” Danny coaxed as he put one of the cups in front of Steve. 

Steve was silent for a few heartbeats, his eyes sad when they met Danny’s and there was something in his expression that was new. Something Danny hadn’t seen before.. “How’s Buck doing?”

“He’s blowing away the competition.  You taught him good,” Danny sat across from Steve, leaning forward. “Qualified on his first sheet on all three.”

There was a quirk of the lips towards a smile but it didn’t quite make it fully there and the eyes remained murky. “Buck always was a good shot.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed softly. Something was bothering Steve and he didn’t like it. “What’s with this expression Babe? I thought you’d be happy?”

Another twist of the mouth, this time almost sour. “I think I know why... why Buck’s having so much trouble.”

“Oh?”  What could Steve have found out in the short time since he’d last seen him.  Buck had been with Danny so it had to be something else.

Steve’s fingers flexed and the knuckles went white from how tight he was twisting them before they flew apart and he agitatedly gestured at his computer screen. “Watch the video.”

The video showed a rescue in LA in bad weather. He almost asked Steve what he was looking for when behind the reporter something happened to the drilling rig and then it collapsed, falling to the side.  The firefighters scattered except for one who threw himself at the collapsed hole, digging in the mud with bare hands through the flashes of lightning and his helmet was knocked away to show a wet blonde head. “Is that?”

“It’s Buck.” Steve confirmed, biting his thumbnail as he watched the footage with Danny play out and selected a second clip when it finished.  “Keep watching.”

A second clip showed Buck’s crew hard at work then another figure approached them in red, staggering. Buck was the one who caught him and the painful relief naked on his face visible through the flashes of light.  Danny knew that look—he was sure he’d had it on his face more than a few times himself and it made something in him slide away from looking at his own experiences too closely.  He’d made his peace with that and he wasn’t reopening it—Steve was his best friend... and he understood exactly how Buck had felt. “Who is that?  The guy who Buck caught?”

“Edmundo Diaz—Eddie.  Buck’s Eddie.”

The friend with a kid—the one Buck had the painful look in his eyes every time he accidentally brought them up. Danny took a second look at where Steve had frozen the footage. “How many times have you watched this?”

“Enough,” Steve frowned at the picture, expression stormy. “You see what I see right?”

“Yeah—I think I do.” If Steve—who knew Buck better than he did—could see it then Danny’s first instincts were likely true.  Something tasted sour in the back of his mouth as he realized how twisted up Buck was.

Buck was in love with Eddie Diaz—the guy who’s life was falling apart back in LA for reasons they didn’t know but Danny would bet good money that Buck had something to do with it.  The guy who Hondo had to pull out of an illegal fight last night and Steve had asked as a favor for him to be given a break. 

Danny blew out a breath, smoothing his hands over his hair. Well that explained a few things—question was did Eddie Diaz feel the same way? The way they guy was looking at Buck... he’d collapsed only when he’d reached Buck. But maybe it had been just luck?

He would bet not—Danny had personal experience looking at someone like Eddie had looked at Buck. Danny looked at his own partner like that too often and Steve had yet to notice—or acknowledge—it. 

Danny wasn’t that interested in self flagellation to spend time thinking about Steve like that right now. 

Any further discussion was halted by a knock on the door.  

Sticking his head in, Chin got their attention. “We’ve got a case.”

Steve pushed back and brushed against Danny, his hands coming to grip his hips as he moved around him.  The touch was grounding and Danny almost reached out to stop him but didn’t, his eyes landing back on the frozen picture of Buck and Eddie. He vaguely heard Steve asking Chin for details—there’d been a string of smash and grabs at food trucks near the Hilton. Kamekona was involved and he’d asked specifically for 5-0 since they “owed him”. 

Danny reluctantly turned away from the frozen video and followed Steve out. 

***

A case dealing with Kamekona was always good—if for nothing else amusement’s sake and they usually got fed well afterwords and sometimes during.  The Hilton complex in Waikiki was beautiful as always, the large protected lagoon was a place that Danny frequented with Grace and Charlie on a semi-regular basis.  Grace had finally grown out of her expensive habit of swimming with dolphins at the exhibit but the lagoon was a preferred place whenever someone from the mainland came to visit.

Kamekona’s shrimp truck was parked on the far side of the lagoon from the Hilton next to his shave ice truck that hadn’t yet been opened for the day. Several other food trucks were lined up—the only one with a line outside it did açaí bowls and smoothies.  It was early enough that there wasn’t a lunch crowd yet but it was a matter of time before tourists lined up to get their plate lunches.

Instead of getting shrimp and chicken ready to grill on the massive grill set in another parking spot, Kamekona waved them down as they pulled up.  Flippa was pouring fresh charcoal so the grill would be going soon so things would be ready for lunch and gave them a wave before Kamekona approached. “Howzit Danno,” the big man greeted Danny as Steve and he did their customary arm clasp. 

“Shamu,” Danny returned which made Kamekona roll his eyes in bemusement. 

Buck had arrived with Kono and trailed behind them but his eyes bugged out a bit at Danny’s nickname for Kamekona.  “Who’s dis?” The big man asked, eyeing Buck up and down. “You collect another haole?”

“Hah—what?” Buck blinked in confusion, his golden retriever like enthusiasm for his first case dampened by encountering unfamiliar language and the large man.  It was adorable—the kid was so out of his element that it made Danny suppress a small grin. 

Rather than explain what a haole was, Steve introduced Buck. “Kamekona is a friend of 5-0. Kamekona this is our newest member Evan Buckley—but he goes by Buck.”

Buck held out his hand and it was dwarfed by Kamekona’s hand as the big man pulled Buck to do a fist bump and pound on his back in a half-embrace like he did with Steve. Buck just looked poleaxed, engulfed by the big man and tentatively giving back a half-enthusiastic back slap before being released to sway slightly as if he wasn’t sure what had just happened. 

Kamekona then gave Kono a much more delicate but no less enthusiastic hug of greeting, “Sistah!” Was followed by a string of the gobbledegook pidgin language that Danny still didn’t understand despite years of living on the island. 

Kono’s reply was muffled as she said it right into Kamekona’s ear but his eyes crinkled as he laughed and released her. 

“So.... “ Danny drawled, “What happened?”

Kamekona’s shoulders hunched, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s bad Danno.  It like dis,” and the big man proceeded to explain in a long roundabout way how there’d been a series of smash and grabs at all of the food trucks.  The shrimp truck was usually left parked here for the majority of the day—to preserve dibs on the spot as it was prime food truck real estate. While Kamekona was explaining, Danny could see out of the corner of his eye as Buck wandered away and into the back of the shrimp truck.

What was the kid up to?

***

But who needs sleep when we’ve got love?

Who needs keys when we’ve got clubs?

Who needs “please” when we’ve got guns?

Who needs peace when we’ve gone above?

But beyond where we should’ve gone

We went beyond where we should’ve gone

 

Buck

He was feeling off-kilter today. That was the best way he could think of describing it.

Waking up in the middle of the night to be comforted by Danny followed by a morning swim with Steve had gotten him moving again but it’d been difficult to take those first few steps into the waves.  The way the salt coated his skin had made him want to puke but he’d pushed forward and swam until his lungs and his muscled burned.  

Just keep swimming.  He’d used Dory’s words with Christopher so he figured they’d work for him just as well. Buck had been able to keep up with Steve—even if he didn’t use swimming as a regular part of his workout routine he was still in good shape from running and all the weight lifting he did. There was a reason he’d passed all his recertifications with flying colors and, while he wasn’t in peak condition, he wasn’t far off it. 

It was gratifying to know he could still keep pace with Steve.  Still keep swimming.  That the tsunami and the flashback nightmare he’d experienced hadn’t taken it from him. 

He could still just keep on swimming like he’d told Christopher he would. 

Buck may have lingered a bit long in the shower afterwards but he’d needed to make sure the salt was off his skin and it’d helped warm him up.  The pancakes afterwards had been the best pancakes he’d had in ages—even Bobby’s didn’t compare. They were just so good and melted in the mouth after becoming heavy with thick syrup and the butter....

They might not compare to Bobby’s because he’d not had an appetite like this in months but they were damn good pancakes either way. 

Headquarters was interesting and Chin Ho Kelly was the last part of the team that he’d heard of for years that was introduced to him. The man had that Cheshire Cat kind of look—like he could see straight though you but he’d still smile and hold all your secrets safe. Buck liked him instantly. 

The brief introduction had been followed by a trip to the gun range and he was trying not to internally wince too much at his performance.  He was out of practice and there’d been more space in his groupings than there used to be. Buck promised himself that if he had to shoot to protect his new team he’d spend the time practicing as soon as possible. Kono’s enthusiastic support had been flattering but he knew he still needed to work on it.   The gun on his belt was an odd weight and he found himself trying not to constantly adjust it. 

It had been a very long time since he’d carried a gun.

They’d been about to go to the outdoor range so Kono could see how rusty he was with rifles when the call came through that they had his first case.  Kono’s sly smile as she told him they were going to “Kamekona’s” didn’t tell him anything. 

Who or what was Kamekona’s?  

Kono had given him a badge though to clip to his belt and it felt even heavier than the gun on his hip.  He’d done nothing to earn it and the feeling of being an imposter followed him as he trailed behind Kono to his possibly first crime scene as a member of 5-0.

They were on the Ala Moana side of the Hilton in Waikiki.  He remembered Steve pointing out the Rainbow tower as their plane had landed yesterday and he lagoon that was next to it. There had been a comment about a bar called the Tropics that Steve said they’d take him to at some point. Across the water was Diamond Head that was hazy in the early morning heat from it’s position overlooking all of Waikiki.  The water was crystalline blue and the waves gentle as they lapped against the shore. Tourist families were already out—kids enjoying the water as their parents watched or chased after them. Farther down the shore he could see a surfing lesson taking place, a sunburnt couple learning how to pop up on their board on the sand. 

He’d always meant to visit Steve but doing the tourist thing on the beach made him shiver at the thought. Shaking himself, he kept up with Kono as Chin arrived with a loud purr of a motorcycle engine. 

Danny and Steve had beat them there and were talking with a rather large man that was wearing a t-shirt in an alarming shade of neon green that had his own face on it. Buck overheard Danny call the man Shamu—which while maybe accurate seemed mean.  The man seemed used to Danny and rolled his eyes before they focused on Buck.

“Who’s dis? You collect another haole?” Was the thick Hawaiian accented question the man shot at Danny. 

Stepping forward to try and make a good impression despite having no idea what a hah ole lei was and why he was one, Buck held his hand out as Steve introduced him as being the mysterious Kamekona.  A grin split the man’s face and he grabbed Buck’s hand, large hand wrapping around Buck’s own easily and yanking him forward so he stumbled into the man’s chest.  

Ack!

Suddenly embraced in a one armed hug, his breath was knocked out of him by the hefty slap to the back that made him stagger off balance into the man’s solid presence. 

Just as quickly, he was released and he almost tripped as he found himself standing on his own two feet. Kamekona had already moved on to Kona and greeted her with even more enthusiasm. 

Overwhelmed by the unexpected physical contact, Buck shrank away a bit, arms wrapping around himself.  He listened as the big man started to tell a story about a string of burglaries at the food trucks—the third one this week.  They’d made complaints to the police but now that Kamekona’s truck had been hit he was putting pressure on Steve to do something—they seemed to have some sort of relationship.

Realizing he had the gist of the situation, Buck was curious about the open door of the food truck.  Nobody was approaching it—Kamekona had called 5-0 as soon as he found out about the burglary.  As the rest of the team seemed busy, he went to investigate the scene of the crime.  

Entering the food truck, he could smell the mess before he saw it. The spice rack was in disarray and several of the containers had spilled open in a fine, colorful powder that had coated the padded mats that covered the floor.  Buck grinned at the cushiness of the mats underneath his boots--he’d gotten one similar for Bobby last Christmas as they were designed if you spent a lot of time on your feet to make it easier on your joints. Kamekona was a big guy so the extra padding probably went a long way on the long days he worked. 

Bending down, Buck picked up the containers that still had their lids on and carefully placed them on the counter. The one that was labeled ‘special recipe’ caught his attention and he twisted the lid off, bringing it to his nose to take a sniff. There was a bit of heat in this stuff, the color a grainy mix of orange, tan and red with some black flecks that were definitely pepper. Taking another sniff, he wetted his pinky and stuck it in the mix before putting it on his tongue.  

Flavor exploded and he closed his eyes to try and analyze it like a spice-sommelier. He’d seen that fancy chef do this at the one cooking class he’d taken on that Groupon date from hell. There was a lot of heat and he rolled the spices around his tongue. 

“Sweet paprika and a bit of the smoky stuff,” he muttered to himself. “Cayenne.... and onion and garlic powders.”

“What else?” Was the gravely inquiry from behind him that made him jump, almost dropping the open container. Kamekona had somehow snuck up behind him, leaning against the counter with a calculating look on his face as he watched Buck.  “What else do you get from it?”

Nervously closing the lid, Buck licked his lips and the sting of the spicy dip he’d taken made him blush. “Mustard powder and.... chipotle?”

“And?” One of the bushy, caterpillar eyebrows inched upward. “What gives it the sweetness?”

“Brown sugar,” Buck said confidently, rolling his eyes. “It adds texture too. And of course salt and pepper.”

A grin split the big man’s face. “Yo Steve—your puppy’s pretty good.”

The bitten off swear was the only warning before Danny tried to force his way past Kamekona who was blocking the door. “Move it—we got a case to investigate and the kid needs to come with us.”

“He stays—I like this mainlander,” Kamekona insisted, not moving so Buck could ext. “‘Sides.  You said you wanted to keep an eye on things and I could use a sous chef.”

“Sous chef?” Buck’s voice was embarrassingly high pitched as his cheeks heated. He felt like somehow he was being passed off to a babysitter. 

Kamekona turned just his head, the bushy caterpillar eyebrow inching upwards at Buck. “Yeah puppy.  You’ll do.”

Buck opened and closed his mouth, looking at Danny over Kamekona’s shoulder. Danny had a calculating look on his face.  Danny gave a decisive nod. “No.”

“Yes.  It’ll work.  You’re not half bad as a sous chef.  Just don’t let Shamu here try any of his more outrageous new flavors on you.  If he asks about the Smokey paprika shave ice say no.”

Buck wasn’t exactly sure what shave ice was but he’d take Danny’s advice on flavor profiles. 

Kamekona obviously knew that he was winning and his smile stretched from ear to ear. “Grab my spare apron my young padawan.  Let Kamekona teach you the delights of traditional Polynesian cooking,” he paused and then gave Danny a side eye and his smile became teasing. “You could hardly do worse than this haole.”

There was that word again. Hah-oh-lei. Buck was willing to bet it wasn’t a nice name to call someone. He needed to find a Hawaiian to English dictionary. 

Danny wagged a finger in Kamekona’s face which just made the big man grin more. “Don’t you haole me.”

“What does hay oh lei mean?” Buck asked, completely lost. Maybe if they asked nicely they’d stick to plain english. Or at least explain. 

“Haole,” Danny corrected then shook his head,  wagging a finger at Kamekona. “Play nice.  I want him back in one piece. Buck—keep your eyes and ears open.”

“Okay,” he agreed weakly. 

“Apron—we’re going to make grinds like you’ve never tasted!”

“Grinds?”  What kind of dish was called grinds?

Kamekona laughed, a full bellied sound that eased a bit of Buck’s nerves. “Grinds is food—you know plate lunches?  My shrimp is the greatest to be had on the islands!”

Taking the apron that was given to him, Buck found himself reluctantly putting it on.  Predictably it was a bright safety orange in color and had Kamekona’s face on a shrimp over the chest but it was clean. Together they made short work of cleaning up the truck so that their workspace was clean and Buck found himself being ordered about just like any other normal workday. 

Soon, it was time to start cooking food and their first customers came to the window with orders.  Kamekona took the orders and then set to teaching Buck how to make the order. A shrimp plate special with Kamekona’s secret recipe as the sauce

Buck carefully watched the big Hawaiian as he mixed the sauces and then added them to the hot wok. The rhythmic motion the man gave to get the shrimp evenly coated was well practiced—no movement wasted.  The impatient gesture for Buck to get the mound of rice situated just so in the to-go container before handing it over was just in time for Kamekona to place the hot steaming protein on top. 

“If you do it this way the rice acts as a buffer—each mouthful should be just a bit of rice and a shrimp. You get it brudha?” The patient look on Kamekona’s face as he waited for Buck to take the completed order reminded him oddly of Bobby.  He wasn’t sure who would be more amused by the comparison—Bobby or Kamekona. The sudden mental image of Bobby in an oversized, neon colored t-shirt with Kamekona’s face on a shrimp made Buck want to giggle. 

Bobby’s color wasn’t neon anything. 

Shaking his head to clear it, Buck took the order to the window and gave it to the waiting girls. Soon he was taking orders and helping make them.  It was hard to move the wok just right (his wrist was aching from the repetitive motion) and he really appreciated it when someone ordered the hulihuli chicken because that meant he got to step out of the hot kitchen to grab the order from the barbecue that was being run by Kamekona’s cousin Flippa. 

As ordered, Buck kept his eyes and ears open and listened to the chatter of everyone he went past.  He quickly identified the other food truck workers but there was a steady stream of customers that made it difficult to remember all the faces. They were so close to the Hilton that there was a big rush over the lunch hour and more people started laying out on the white sands or playing in the water. 

Danny stopped by briefly to check on him but it was mainly to grab the lunch order for the rest of the team.  Trying not to be discouraged by his assignment, Buck kept a smile on his face but he knew Danny had seen through it.  

“What have you learned?” Danny asked.

Buck shrugged. “A lot about Hawaiian cooking.  And that I have no idea what Kamekona is saying half the time as it’s not in English.”

Danny laughed. “You’ll learn.”

Buck gave him a side eye. “Yeah—like you obviously do.”

Danny flailed a bit, trying to juggle all the food. “You’re younger than me,” he protested.

“Stop,” Buck ordered, taking back half the food.  “Let me help you at least carry it to the car.”

“Thanks,” Danny offered. “Or I guess you’d say mahalo in Hawaiian.”

“Mah- Ha-Lo,” Buck tried out the foreign word, rolling it around in his head. So that was how to say thank you.  He vaguely remembered Steve using the word at some point. Kamekona hadn’t been willing to explain what haole meant but he’d stopped using it in Buck’s hearing so it probably was rude. 

They’d almost made it to the camaro when both of them startled when a scream ripped through the air, making them turn back towards the line of food trucks. 

Someone had smashed their hand through the window of the smoothie truck and grabbed the cash box after smacking the person working the register. It figured—they’d done the most business so far today so they probably were the richest target to rob. 

Shoving the food into Danny’s unprepared hands, Buck was off running across the sand and after the thief. The man had a head start but they were running awkwardly with the weight of the heavy cash box in his arms as he rounded the shoreline of the lagoon towards the other end of the parking lot near the marina. 

Putting on a burst of speed, Buck flew through the air to tackle the man, tumbling them both into the lagoon where they landed with a large splash. Rolling like an alligator, Buck took a sharp elbow to the ribs but he didn’t let go—trapping the thief but unable to control his movement. They were in just deep enough water that they both kept getting dunked under as they wrestled. Getting a better grip, Buck almost went under again when Danny arrived. 

“Hey! 5-0!” Danny splashed Buck and the thief with water which was just enough of a distraction that Buck was finally able to pin him, face down in the sand but mouth just out of the water to allow breathing.  Danny had his gun out and pointed at them. 

Seemingly realizing he was outnumbered, the man in Buck’s grip went lax. “Stay still,” Buck growled as he stood over the man and grabbed him by the shirt collar to drag him out of the lagoon, hands held up so Danny could see them. 

The amused look on Danny’s face made Buck look down at himself.  His clothes were a mess of salt water and sand. Wiping the water away from his eyes, he pulled at the apron.  Yeah he was going to need a shower and a new set of clothes. 

When his feet squelched as he stepped out of the water he mentally added dry shoes to his list of needs. 

Danny had been busy cuffing the man who Buck finally got a better look at.  Nondescript dark hair, the type of tan you got after a sunburn coloring his skin, clothing that was fashionable but touristy, not a native if he had to guess. The guy was really unremarkable from half the people on the beach.   Retrieving the lock box, Buck shook it just enough to get most of the water out of it. 

“You’re going to need to count that so we know which charge,” Danny informed him after reading the guy his Miranda rights. 

Looking at the lock box, Buck popped the hinge keeping it closed.  There was a lot of money in it. “Huh.”

“Yeah—you’d be surprised how profitable these trucks are,” Danny commented as he made the man start walking. 

Closing the lid back up, Buck followed Danny back towards the car.  Danny had his phone out and was calling for HPD backup to help take witness statements and to take custody of their thief.  

Taking off the apron, Buck wrung it out to remove excess water before doing the same with his shirt, aware that they had an audience he purposefully didn’t meet any eyes before pulling it back on.  Feeling for his pockets, he swore when he felt his phone—it was probably ruined. When he took it out, the screen still lit up when he swiped a finger across it to wipe away the water droplets that clung to it. 

He had a message per his lock screen notification. 

From Eddie. 

Suddenly his fingers were numb and his stomach bottomed out in nervousness. Why would Eddie reach out to him after so long?  Was it Christopher? Something else? Anxiety rising, it took three tries to get the message to open. 

Reading the message, Buck chewed at his lip before taking a deep stuttering breath and re-reading the short message. 

Nobody was dead. Nobody was hurt. 

It seemed he’d been missed. 

By both Diaz boys—Christopher and Eddie. 

He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about being missed. 

He’d wanted to... he’d been so lonely...

He was missed.

 

Notes:

Song lyrics: Sleep through the Static by Jack Johnson

I apologize for any errors—I am not that familiar with gun ranges or police procedures (or hawaiian cooking). Also my Spanish is at the Duolingo/google level so please forgive any translation errors.

Chapter 5: They Say the Only Easy Day Was Yesterday

Summary:

Buck and Eddie connect briefly but Eddie is still struggling after a tough first therapy session. 5-0 starts investigating and an old problem resurfaces.

Notes:

Specific warnings this chapter for Eddie spiraling a bit and unrealistic description of a therapy session. Eddie emotional whump ahead. We’re also playing with timelines a bit as the POVs overlap.

Chapter 5:

It’s such a tired game

Will it ever stop?

How will this all play out?

Of sight, out of mind now

 

By now we should know how to communicate

Instead of coming to blows, we’re on a roll

And there ain’t no stopping us now

We’re burning under control

Isn’t it strange how we’re all 

Burning under the same sun?

 

Buck

 

Buck stared at his phone, aware there was a slight shake to his hand he was griping it so hard. He re-read the message again.

Buck, I know that I owe you an apology—more than just one at this point. I wanted to say it in person but I’ve been told that you aren’t going to be home for a while. I hope you’re happy and safe wherever you are but Chris asked for you this morning. If you’re able could you please let me know when I could have him call or FaceTime you?

His thoughts stumbled from one thing to the next. Chris asking for him was their personal shorthand for Chris having nightmares about the tsunami.  There hadn’t been any… Eddie hadn’t told him… Chris was still having nightmares?  Buck had thought they were getting better with that therapist Eddie had found since he hadn’t been calling like he had been… but then again Eddie and he had been barely talking and why would Eddie… 

Eddie said he owed Buck an apology. An apology for what? For being angry that Buck had closed him out? Angry about Buck leaving him to deal with Chris’ nightmares by himself? That Buck had told Chase about Shanon? Eddie should be angry at him for those things and Buck didn’t blame him for that. He knew he’d hurt Eddie deeply by his actions—that confrontation in the grocery store had shattered his denial about being the only one affected by his being benched. While the 118 was very up in each other’s business in general, Eddie only generally talked really to Buck before… before things had gone wrong. 

Buck knew he’d deeply hurt his best friend. 

And while he would like to try and get back to being friends he wasn’t sure exactly what Eddie was going to be apologizing for. For having emotions? For being hurt? For needing space? 

Buck understood why Eddie had needed space… even if he’d been a little hurtful that one time at the grocery store. Buck knew he was exhausting—even Maddie got tired of him when she was living with him. Eddie… may have been harsh but he’d never lied to Buck.  

He knew he was exhausting to deal with—him and his problems. As Eddie had pointed out there was a lot of “I” in his explanations and little thought of what it meant to others at the time. 

Given how much trouble he’d caused for Eddie over the two years they’d known each other, Buck figured some days it was a miracle that Eddie would even look at him given what he’d put Chris through.  And Eddie had forgiven him that… and Buck hoped he would eventually forgive him for telling people things Eddie didn’t want told. 

He didn’t blame Eddie for being hurt and needing time even if it hurt Buck right back. It was Buck’s fault.  All of it had been his fault—it’d been his reaction that had caused all the problems and he’d been working on getting trust back even if Bobby…  

Well that was when Steve had shown up—wasn’t it?  

Buck wondered if it had been the right move to come with Steve. If Chris was having trouble and Eddie needed him… he’d be on a plane back in a heartbeat. 

But why an apology?  If anything… Buck owed Eddie one. One that Eddie might actually listen to if he gave Buck time to explain himself rather than leaving the room every time he entered it. Eddie had previously forgiven him so quickly after the tsunami and trusted him to watch Chris just days later.  

He’d ruined that forgiveness by filing that stupid lawsuit and giving Chase all the ammunition he needed to completely tear Eddie apart. Buck could remember the heavy despair in Eddie’s voice when he’d told him about Shannon—how she’d asked him for a divorce the night before she died in Eddie’s arms. The broken way Eddie confessed that he wanted to be angry with her but how could he? How could he be angry that she’d left permanently when it was his fault that he’d let her back in and had the stupidity to think that maybe this time it’d work out and they could be a family. 

That night was one of the few times he’d ever seen Eddie cry and he hadn’t pulled away when Buck had pulled him in and hugged him. Eddie’d just buried his face in Buck’s neck and he’d felt the wetness of his best friend’s tears soak his shirt as he silently cried. They’d been drinking and Eddie had been an emotional mess between arranging Shannon’s funeral and his parents had been coming into town the next day. Buck had stayed over because Chris had been waking up multiple times each night and asking for him. 

The way Eddie had completely shut down everything external had scared Buck the next day until he realized that the only way Eddie wasn’t a slobbering crying mess was because he was determined not to show it to anyone except Buck. The offhand comment about his father not liking him being weak had angered and saddened Buck but then he’d realized just how much trust Eddie placed with him. 

It had been a humbling realization how Eddie had let him behind those seemingly impenetrable walls that he kept around himself like armor. 

Which is why it made sense to Buck that he’d been frozen out.  He didn’t like it but he knew he’d deeply hurt Eddie and he’d been pushed outside those walls. He’d hoped… that maybe, given enough time, that Eddie would forgive him like he had before. 

But why did Eddie need to apologize?  Buck had done the hurt this time. He’d screwed up. 

Realizing he wouldn’t work out any answers, he refocused on the other part of the message. Chris was asking for him and Eddie—the self-sacrificing best Dad that Buck had ever had the privilege of meeting—was putting aside his own pain to ask Buck for help. Help he’d not asked for in months. 

Fumbling, Buck started to text a reply and just focused on answering the asked question as he didn’t know where to start on the rest of it. He should be free tonight…. Or maybe he could borrow Steve’s office for a call this afternoon so it wouldn’t be too late for Chris. 

What time works for you guys?

He left it simple—not sure what else to say. 

Almost instantly the dots appeared to show that Eddie was typing. Nervously, Buck licked his lips and waited. 

The dots disappeared but no new message. Danny said something to him and he looked away from the screen briefly but Danny was talking to a pair of police officers and was handing off the guy to them, his eyes not on Buck.

Looking back at his phone, the dots were back to indicate more typing.

Chris should be home from school by four.  We can make any time after that work for you.

Any time?  Buck calculated the time difference—three hours between Honolulu and LA. On one hand his first instinct was to go for as soon as possible. On the other hand…. Chris might sleep better if he did it around his bedtime. Or it might wind him up more right before bed. There was a three hour time difference… and that gave him a little over two hours if he wanted to talk to Chris right after school. 

The soft noise of Danny’s approach went unnoticed he was thinking so hard and when Danny’s hand clapped down on his shoulder, Buck jumped almost a foot in the air he startled so badly, heart thumping rapidly in his chest and air punching in and out in sharp pants as he stared at Danny wide-eyed. “Danno?”

Danny’s brows rose even as his eyes narrowed but his fingers wrapped more firmly into the muscle under his hand before sighing and rolling his eyes. “Can we at least stick to Danny while we’re at work?  I know Steve probably has already conditioned you to call me Danno but it really is what my kids call me.”

Buck’s heart did a funky twist in his chest that hurt. “If you don’t want me to call you—“

Danny’s grip tightened and he shook his head in a curt negative. “No.  I’m… okay with you calling me it.  I’d just prefer not while we’re at work.”

Just as Buck’s breathing was beginning to settle he turned what Danny said around in his mind and his breath caught in his throat. Danny let Steve and his kids call him Danno… did that mean… was he including Buck in with his family? He did joke about Steve being the older brother he never had but to have Danny group him in with what seemed like a very small and exclusive group was… touching and warmed Buck right back up despite the chill of the wind on his wet clothes. 

He really should find a towel he grumbled under his breath as he let his gaze fall away from Danny, unable to look and try to determine whether his assumption was true or not.  Buck was slightly cold despite the tropical temperature—the wind had picked up and was blowing sand and surf around now, coming right over the waves at them. 

Danny had only known him for less than a day.  There was no way he’d included Buck because of Buck—it had to be because of Steve. It was like being nice to your spouse’s family was all it was. 

Buck’s brain then made a sound like a record scratching as it was disrupted and his eyes snapped up to meet Danny’s, mouth open in a gape. He’d… yeah. Buck had thought that. 

“What?” Danny asked, suspicion replaced by confusion. 

Telling Danny that he basically considered him married to Steve who was his almost-older-brother wasn’t high on Buck’s list of things to do.  He was pretty sure Danny would take him for a psych evaluation if he said that after only knowing him for a day. Then Danny would tell Steve and Steve would kill Buck for implying to Danny that they were married when they were most definitely not married even though Steve totally was into Danny that way. 

Buck might have only been physically in Steve’s presence for a bit over thirty six hours but he knew his former CO. Also he would have to be blind not to see how the two of them touched each other and just lit up in the other’s presence. 

Steve was so fucking gone on Danny it would be funny if it didn’t also make Buck a bit sad that they hadn’t gotten their shit together. 

He refused to look at why he felt another twist in his chest at that thought that covered a suspiciously shaped hole that seemed to have grown over the last few months. 

“Hey space cadet! Earth to Buck!” 

Danny had evidently been trying to get his attention while he’d spaced out. Blinking, Buck shook himself a bit. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Face scrunched up in worry, Danny paused for a moment before speaking. “You didn’t hit your head during all that rolling around with that low life did you?  You’d tell me if you were injured right?”

“Of course,” Buck tried to reassure him but suspected he’d not been successful as the wrinkles on Danny’s forehead multiplied and his frown deepened. “I just… I just got a message that I wasn’t expecting.”

Danny’s eyes glinted in the sunlight as they sharpened. “What sort of message? Bad? Good?”

Buck shrugged. “Neither. Just…” he waved his hand trying to find words to describe the awkward situation he’d created for himself with Eddie and how he felt compelled to be there for Christopher. 

One of Danny’s eyebrows climbed upwards before he caught Buck’s wayward hand in a firm grip before letting it fall when Buck relaxed. “Settle down kid. Let’s get you some dry clothes and then we’ll talk about your message.”

Buck docilely followed along behind the shorter blonde.  Danny made a bee line for Kamekona and the big man seemed appeased that Buck had gotten rid of their current problem, thanking Danny in a round-about way that also contained a lot of teasing. There might have also been that haole word again that Buck still didn’t know what it meant. 

He was pretty sure it wasn’t usually an endearment but Kamekona seemed to use it as one for Danny.  

“You’ll be back later,” the man said as he gave a hefty thump to the back of Buck’s ribs. “I have more to teach you—it’s been a while since I had someone to teach.”

Perking up a bit, Buck nodded. “I like cooking,” he admitted, blushing slightly at the way Danny swiveled to watch him when he spoke. 

“You really do,” Danny observed wryly. “Let’s get moving.  This is one case down for the day—time to see what else Steve has gotten into in the meantime.”

“I’m sure he’s… busy doing paperwork?” Buck tried. 

Danny snorted and wagged a finger at Buck. “Don’t.  You know Steve so don’t even try to excuse whatever hair brained mess he’s gotten into without us.”

***

Returning to the office, Buck was shuffled off to the locker room for his second shower of the day with Steve’s extra set of clothes—which was really just a gym bag—although luckily there was more than just a pair of board shorts in there as Steve told him “We end up in the ocean more than you’d think,” with a wry grin.  The cargo pants were tight in the thigh but actually loose at the waist and the seal t-shirt was old and faded, soft with use.  He also had a bit of ankle showing but nobody’s boots were big enough to borrow so he was walking around the office in Steve’s flip flops—or slippahs as Kono called them. 

It was weird wearing someone else’s clothes.  Buck had felt like it was crossing a line to wear Steve’s extra set of boxer briefs so he was going commando but nobody needed to know that but him although he was pretty sure Danny had guessed it given he commented, “I see you’re not ruining those pants with underwear lines,” which had made them both blush beet red when Danny had realized what he’d said while distracted by the latest case that had been brought up on the monitor. 

Kono had almost died of laughter at the both of them but she mercifully didn’t tease Buck further. 

While Buck had been gone, the team had caught a string of assaults that HPD was asking for assistance with.  This was code for the last shopkeeper that was targeted was a known political fundraiser for the governor’s party and had asked why there had been no progress. The others had just returned from following up on grabbing the evidence and logs from HPD when Danny and Buck had arrived with lunch so they were sitting around the monitor going through everything as a group first. 

“So given that they’re targeting shops and businesses all in this area….” Kono trailed off, giving a significant look at first Chin and then Steve, she slumped further in her chair that she was all twisted up on with her feet resting barefoot on the wooden desk support as she  raised her shrimp plate higher as if to hide behind it.

“It could be the yakuza,” Steve said finally after nobody else spoke. “Has Adam—“

“No.” Kono was firm, waving with her chopsticks as she shook her head. “No Steve.”

Steve swallowed the bite of food he’d taken, not looking away from Kono.  “You know I have to ask,” he said apologetically. 

Kono stabbed at her fried rice, avoiding meeting Steve’s gaze. “I know,” she bit out. 

He was missing something obvious. “Who’s Adam?” Buck asked tentatively. 

The rest of the team exchanged a set of looks but Kono just waggled her left hand, light catching on the ring on her ring finger as she sighed. “Adam’s my husband…. He’s,” she bit her lip, eyes clouded. “His family is yakuza—his father was Oyabun.”

“Oi ya bun? Yakuza—I know that’s Japanese… gangsters?” Buck was very confused. 

“Right,” Danny’s voice was artificially light as he moved white rice around on his plate.  “Oyabun think of it like the head boss of the the gang.”

Buck tried not to stare at Kono. “So he’s like a mafia prince?”

“Kinda,” Kono allowed, obviously uncomfortable but willing to explain.  She was still just looking at her food, shoulders hunched protectively as she jabbed her chopsticks into a mound of rice. “He—Adam struggled a lot but he’s gotten away from that.  It’s just hard when he still has family that… well we don’t really speak with them if we can help it.”

“Ah,” Buck shoveled food into his mouth rather than say something else that could upset Kono further. It was obvious that if she’d married Adam they’d had a lot of trouble.  Buck could just imagine being a cop and marrying a mafia prince had been problematic and Kono had likely had a lot of uncomfortable scrutiny.  The whole bank heist disaster thing that had happened before Bobby was suspended had been hugely uncomfortable. Buck had not really appreciated how the police had torn apart everything in his apartment and the interrogation had made his head spin.  He could cringe in sympathy for what Kono had gone through. 

“Anyways,” Danny tried to pull them back to focus. “So we have a string of assaults all on business owners in Waikiki in an area where there’s been issues in the past with protection rackets. Is there anyone else we can talk to—see if there’s been issues recently?”

There was an awkward silence. It occurred to Buck that Kamekona might…. He’d gotten the impression that the big man had maybe not always been on the right side of the law given the stories he’d been telling Buck. However the string of robberies of the food trucks… that was at the far end of Waikiki right?  “Would Kamekona know?” Buck asked aloud. “I mean… he owns his business. Surely he’d know if there was a protection racket going on?  Right?”

Danny and Steve both cocked their heads—Steve towards Danny and Danny towards Steve. It was like they were mirror images of each other it was so in sync. “That’s a good point,” Steve said aloud. 

“Also… not to be obvious here but the string of robberies at the food trucks…. Could they be related?”  Buck got that high end businesses weren’t the same but the guy he’d tackled earlier had been handed off to HPD.  They hadn’t interrogated him. 

“They’re really not the same…” Danny trailed off, face scrunching up.  “We’d have to find a link.”

“Do you think we should be questioning the guy I tackled?” Buck asked, chasing a bit of teriyaki coated chicken around his own dish.

Steve beamed at him, visibly pleased at Buck’s suggestion.  The little cock of his head as he nodded towards Buck with a smug and prideful smile was aimed at Danny who just rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

“You just want to—“ Danny began, an air of long suffering patience surrounding him. 

“It’d be good practice,” Steve interrupted Danny.  

Rubbing his forehead, Danny’s blue eyes were still calculating as they landed on Buck’s.  “Kid’s first interrogation.  No way this can’t go wrong,” he stated blandly. 

“That’s the spirit Danno,” Chin chimed in, the barest hint of an entertained smile crossing the Asian man’s face as his eyes crinkled, the purposeful emphasis on the nickname that they’d all been using heavily since Danny had given Steve grief earlier about conditioning Buck to use it.   

Danny sighed and waved his agreement before wagging one finger right under Steve’s nose making him go crosseyed as he followed the motion. “You’ll help him.  Teach him.  No dangling the suspect over a ledge or throwing them in a shark cage,” he instructed Steve.

“Yes Danno,” Steve dully agreed, biting his lip to try and hide a smile that wasn’t wholly successful. 

Amused, Buck just watched the two of them have a mini-argument that was seemingly about teaching him how to interrogate a suspect but there was a secondary, non-verbal discussion going on that he couldn’t quite read.  There was a lot of affection there as well as gruff amusement and they obviously cared a lot about each other.  Going over what Danny had said, his mind stuttered a bit on one of the parts of the instructions. “Wait—did you actually put someone in a shark cage?”

***

Evidently there had been a shark cage involved early in Steve and Danny’s partnership and Steve merely pulled Buck out of the room in a strategic retreat as Danny really got wound up into a full blown real rant. It wasn’t until they were in the truck that Buck pointedly asked the other question.  “Why didn’t you tell Danny that I’ve worked interrogations with you before?”

It’d been a while but Buck had helped run some interrogations while they’d been tracking terrorists across the globe.  He’d never really loved it or anything but he’d backed up the rest of their team when needed. 

Spinning the wheel as they pulled out of the parking lot, Steve had his neck craned to look for opposing traffic as he answered. “Because these types of interrogations are a lot more….civilian.  I wasn’t lying when I said it would be good practice.”

“More civilian how?”  It didn’t seem from Buck’s experiences that other than no threats of bodily harm it was similar—find out who, what and where. Preferably as quick as possible given they were usually running on the clock to prevent further possibly attacks. 

“More rules about what is and isn’t allowed. I’m going to let you be good cop,” Steve assured him as he turned back to face forward as they sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic with ease and gaining a few angrily honks of a horn when he cut off someone with rental car plates who had been just a second too slow. 

Snorting, Buck melted into his seat but keeping his grip on the grab handle—he knew Steve liked to take corners fast. “So play nice is what you’re saying.”

“Play nice and dumb,” Steve corrected.  “Danny’s going to work the protection racket angle with the others.”

“I have been part of police interrogations before,” Buck protested halfheartedly, tucking the protection racket question into the back of his mind.  He just had to act like the detectives had with that whole diamond heist thing. Only he got to be on the other side of the interrogation table this time.  It had been very strange to be interrogated about the whole bank job—mostly because he’d been really surprised at the convoluted logic involved and somewhat offended that they thought that he and his team would have stolen stuff. He’d been completely innocent and thrown off at the time by the whole situation.  

Having his apartment get tossed by LAPD had also not been really a fun time. That one guy had made some snide comments about the contents of his nightstand that had made him blush.  Thank god none of his friends had been present for that. 

There was also the fact that he got interrogated on a regular basis by Athena just for doing regular dumbass things but it’d been less frequent the last six months or so. 

He could do this interrogation… he’d just need to be like the cops. 

***

Walking through HPD, Buck trailed after Steve who went right up to a Sgt Duke Lukela and made inquiries about the guy Buck had tackled.  Lukela seemed to know Steve well and they quietly put their heads together while Buck stood behind them, idly looking around. There were a lot of surreptitious stares from uniformed patrol officers and people in civilian clothes that Buck pegged as probably detectives given they were lounging on a grouping of desks over on the far corner of the bull pen. 

Steve’s and his appearance was evidently interesting enough to cause some gossiping from the looks of it. 

Soon they were walking back to the interrogation rooms.  Buck was handed a manilla file that when he opened it he saw the paperwork that someone else had filled out on the guy with a copy of a California Driver’s license that gave the name as Jacob Kanazawa.

Also attached with a paper clip was a fresh mug shot which had been taken with the guy’s dark hair still wet and sticking every which way, the stark white and black background with the height lines behind him making him look older than the birthdate on his license suggested. Kanazawa was wearing a puka shell necklace around his neck which was just this side of tannish red from a fading sunburn.  The damp sky blue shirt looked like tourist wear given it said Hawaii USA with a hand holding the shaka sign below it and appeared new-ish.   Kanazawa was of regular build, not much muscle to suggest that he worked out or anything, 5 foot eight and maybe hundred and fifty pounds, of East Asian descent looking but if Buck had met him on the street without the name Kanazawa he wouldn’t have immediately guessed Japanese.

Kanazawa was a Japanese name. Steve had been asking about Japanese gangsters….

Taking a seat at the table while Steve purposefully lounged against the one way mirrored window with his arms and legs crossed to pop his hip and prominently display his badge.  They waited for Kanazawa to be brought to them. 

Less than five minutes later, Buck had the guy’s limited information memorized and he was brought into the room by two uniforms.  Kanazawa was sullen and hadn’t said anything after being picked up according to the paperwork. There was also a notice that the license was likely a fake—a query with the California DMV was pending and he’d been fingerprinted to see if he popped up in the federal database. The man drug his feet as he entered interrogation, his hands cuffed in front of him and he stumbled slightly as he was pushed into the seat opposite Buck.

“You can take the cuffs off,” Buck told the officers before they could leave. Running would be stupid and counterproductive at this point, he might as well try and score some friendliness points with Kanazawa. 

Dark eyes watched from underneath long bangs as the man held out his hands for them to be uncuffed. Buck could see the moment that Kanazawa recognized him as his lips turned down in a sneer before he remembered where he was and tried to smooth his expression into bored indifference. 

Shifting through the sparse paperwork, Buck watched through his eyelashes, letting Kanazawa slump slightly after a few minutes when he didn’t say anything but just appeared to be reading the file at a snail’s pace. He waited another minute before letting the page he was holding drop and closing the file. “So what can you tell us about what happened earlier today?” He asked simply, starting with an open ended question.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kanazawa snorted dismissively. “You were there. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Buck put his most approachable face on, leaning back casually and keeping his body language open. “I know that you grabbed the money but I don’t know why.  Don’t you want to explain why? You must have done it for a reason.”

When Kanazawa didn’t immediately reply, Steve let out a loud snort and Buck knew he was rolling his eyes and doing his best unimpressed expression. “I don’t know why we’re bothering Buckley.  He’s going to be charged with felony theft either way—there was almost four grand in that lockbox.” 

The noise of Steve’s boots on the tiled floor was loud in the silent room as he circled the table and then he stopped and leaned into the table, almost looming over Kanazawa who cranked his head to keep an eye on Steve and he shrank slightly into the chair.  Steve’s smirk was intimidating  “Second degree theft is five years in Halawa.” 

Kanazawa’s gaze flicked to Buck, looking for help.  Buck reached out to push Steve back, seeming to provide help. “McGarret,” Buck put extra pleading into his voice, hamming things up before refocusing on Kanazawa. “Surely there were reasons—maybe extenuating ones.  If you tell us why and if anyone else was involved maybe we can help you out,” Buck cajoled. 

The man across from him paused for a moment, thinking about things before clenching his jaw and looking away, his words were accented but clear when he finally spoke—not an American accent but Buck didn’t know enough Japanese people to say for sure it was Japanese. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Steve didn’t let up.  He began adding on the other robberies, adding up the money that had been taken and property damage done to the food trucks which was more significant than Buck had realized.  The team had linked this robbery to robberies going on for almost a month and one of the food trucks had a small fire that had caused significant damage and caused a shut down which is when the problem had first been reported to HPD.  Buck wondered if there was a reason the food trucks hadn’t complained with the first one—maybe that was the protection racket?  

Pointing out that unless Kanazawa helped them out they’d be looking to tie him to the other robberies—which easily elevated the charge to first degree theft and more years in Halawa. Buck intermittently would interject, pausing Steve’s hard nose approach to make him appear the more sympathetic party but letting Steve work around the room. 

Kanazawa didn’t ask for a lawyer. 

Not once. 

Which Buck really wondered about—he’d been read his Miranda rights.  The man obviously didn’t like Steve walking around behind him and irregularly crowding over him to try and physically intimidate without touching. Not once did he take the bait or ask for help verbally but he also didn’t start talking more other than to occasionally give a snapping retort that wasn’t revelatory. 

But he also wasn’t antagonistic either. 

“Surely you can help yourself out,” Buck tried again. “If there’s more to the story maybe we can work out a deal.”

Kanazawa leaned over the table, looking Buck directly in his eye.  “Charge me with whatever you want. I got nothing to say.”

They tried for another half hour and the answer didn’t change. Frustrated, Steve indicated they were done and they called for the uniforms to take Kanazawa back to his cell. 

***

His mind kept turning over every response on the way back to their office. Kanazawa seemed to be a dead end and it disappointed him that his idea hadn’t panned out.  Steve clapped him on the shoulder as they walked into the office, sending a silent look of support. 

Steve immediately started talking to Chin and Kono—catching them up on the outcome of their questioning.  At first, Buck didn’t notice Danny but when the man handed him a cup of coffee it made him startle slightly. 

“Sounds like you guys got nothing?”  Danny asked. 

Shaking his head as he took a sip of the piping hot coffee, Buck hunched his shoulders slightly before he could correct himself.  Danny hadn’t given any indication that he was disappointed—he needed to stop assuming things. “No,” he said as his eyes caught the time.  Chris would be home from school by now as it was after two making it after supper time in LA. “Hey?  Do you think I could borrow your office? I need to make a call.”

“Is this about that message from earlier?” Danny asked.

“Yeah,” Buck didn’t give more details. 

Danny looked like he wanted to ask more questions for a moment and then nodded. “Sure.  Feel free to use it for as long as you need.”

“Thanks.”  

Without saying anything further, Buck slipped away to the private office next to Steve’s, closing the door to give himself some privacy even as the glass wall still let him see out into the main area where the rest of the team was talking and looking at something Chin had pulled up.  Sitting in the pleather office chair, it sank underneath him making his knees go upwards making him have to adjust it closer to his height than Danny’s as he texted Eddie to ask if now was a good time. 

Less than a minute later, he got confirmation that now would work. 

Buck’s thumb hesitated just briefly over the FaceTime button—just long enough to take two deep breaths in and try to settle himself a bit before jabbing the button to connect. While it was dialing, he put the phone against the computer monitor so he wouldn’t have to hold it. The first thing he saw as the call connected was Eddie’s face, teeth chewing at the bottom lip as he focused on answering the call but hadn’t realized the connection had gone through yet. 

Before Eddie could say anything or hand the phone to Chris, Buck’s eyes zeroed in on the side of his face.  The side of his best friend’s face that was swollen and had an impressive looking motley of colors crossing the cheekbone and the deep purple around the eye socket that made Buck’s own face hurt in sympathy. 

Their eyes met for just a moment and then Eddie looked away, paling under his natural tan and emphasizing how tired he looked. “Christopher—Here’s Buck,” he said as he handed off the phone and Chris’ face appeared instead. “I’ll leave you two to chat,” Buck heard in the background and all he could do was stare at Chris’ wan face that looked much too serious for his nine years. 

“Hey buddy,” Buck greeted him, trying to be as cheerful as possible while his thoughts spun in circles while going nowhere. What had happened to Eddie?

***

Buy now and save, it’s a war for peace

It’s the same old game

But do we really want to play?

We could close our eyes, it’s still there

We could say it’s us against them

We could try but nobody wins

Gravity has got a hold on us all

 

Steve

Instructing Buck in how to do a legal police interrogation had left a smile on his face.  The way that Buck had fallen into the back and forth pattern and followed his lead reminded Steve of their prior time as teammates. It was strange to have someone work as well with him as Danny did—while Chin and Kono were part of the team they weren’t running on quite the same wavelength that he and Danny had from that first case.  Buck was almost as good and it reinforced the idea that he’d done the right thing by bringing Buck home instead of leaving him in LA. 

While he understood why Buck had become a fireman, Steve wasn’t going to ignore that some of Buck’s old skills were more easily applied to police work.  Buck was a quick study—Steve knew he’d pick it all up just as fast as he had. 

The look Danny had shot him when he brought a soaked Buck back to the office had said a thousand things in one glance—annoyance, pride in Buck’s performance, amusement, a lingering touch of hangry for lunch just to begin with. 

Danny’s check in with him had been a brush against his side, shoulder briefly checking with a gentle nudge into Steve’s side as he joined him at the computer conference table. It was steadying, reassuring. Just a light touch and go but enough to settle the little bit of restlessness that lingered in his muscles from running the interrogation. The team had been discussing the case which they still didn’t have much to go on with.  Steve was acutely aware of Danny shifting his weight so he kept contact with Steve’s side as he listened.  

Shifting just slightly, Steve idly let his own arm wrap around Danny’s shoulders to make it more comfortable for both of them as they combed through the reports and data. His people had been busy while Buck and he’d been trying to shake information out of Kanazawa. 

Chin had a map up on the screen with the locations in Waikiki that had so far reported being targeted. Almost all the targets were high end but local—not international chains. There was no consistency as to type of services—several jewelry stores, a pair of high end clothing stores, a custom surf shop, an aloha shirt company that tailored their clothing for each client, and then a few restaurants. “Chin—can you mark out local businesses that haven’t filed a claim with HPD or the governor?”

Chin tilted his head, one eyebrow inching upwards. “High-end only?”

“Yeah.  Limit it to the makai side of the Ala Wai Canal.” There were no reported complaints outside of the high density tourist areas of Waikiki—or at least none that they were aware of. 

More than twenty new flags popped up. 

“What do you think the odds are that some of these places have been keeping their problems quiet?” Danny asked aloud.

“Better than average.  I want us to go have a chat with all of them.”

“You go ahead with Kono, Babe,” Danny said before he could hand out assignments. 

Surprised, Steve looked at Danny. Danny’s eyes met his and then purposefully flicked towards his office.  Steve could see Buck talking to someone on FaceTime. The slight wrinkling to Danny’s forehead triggered Steve’s worry.

Silently, he asked Danny if he needed to stay close and got an almost imperceptible shake of the head. 

“Okay.  Kono you’re with me.  We’ll start at the International Marketplace.  Danny you can wait for Buck.”

Danny just waved them on and Kono fell into step with him. When they were alone, he tried to apologize. “I’m sorry for implying that Adam—“

“No,” Kono interrupted, her lip caught between her bottom teeth as she chewed on it with eyes deep in thought. “You’re right to be suspicious.  You have to ask.”

“But I don’t need to imply that he’s behind things every time we have so much of a hint of yakuza,” he tried again.

Kono shook her head, hair falling in waves around her face to provide a curtain across her eyes and her shoulders hunched just slightly. “Adam’s been taking a lot of calls lately. Calls he doesn’t want me to hear.”

They’d reached his truck. “What?”

Kono’s eyes were grim, jaw clenched so hard the muscle in her cheek was jumping. “He told me he was out.”

“But?” He asked, leaning on the door as she climbed in. 

“I don’t like the phone calls,” she said with finality as she shut her door with a little too much force, slamming it. 

Steve thought for a moment. “Well your anniversary is coming up…”

Kono’s eyes sharpened into a glare. “I’m pretty sure it’s not that.”

Backpedaling, Steve tried to find words to de-escalate as he turned the key in the ignition. “He loves you Kono.  I’m sure it’s… it’s not that.”

“But you don’t know for sure,” she snapped. “And with his history?  I’d be a poor cop if I wasn’t suspicious of my own husband.”

They were both silent as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Do you want me to talk to him?  Or do you want to do it yourself?”

Kono had been looking out the window. “Someone has to ask him.”

“Yeah?”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’ll ask him first.  If I need you to… I’ll let you know.”

“Okay.”

***

They did start at International Marketplace and so far they’d turned up nothing of note.  The open air mall was moderately busy for midday during the week, people wandering from store to store. From Burberry to the ABC store to a local artist gallery there wasn’t anything overtly suspicious going on. 

The two places that had reported incidents to HPD both seemed to have no new information that hadn’t been in the original reports.  The managers reported that there’d been a shakedown for protection money—neither of them admitted to paying it but the second one had looked very squirrelly as he’d made the denial. Because of the robberies, their financial records had been already subpoenaed as part of the investigative process and for insurance reasons so he sent a quick message to Chin to start looking into it. 

Chin would find anything irregular in the finances so he’d wait until he had more information.  

Leaving the second store—a high end pearl jewelry shop—Steve almost ran into Kono who was watching another store across from them. “Kono?”

Kono was still, her head cocked as she watched the other shop—another high end jeweler.  “That one’s not on our list is it?”

“No.  Why?”

“If I were going to be targeting a specific type of shop…. For protection…”

“I’d target all of them,” Steve agreed. “And if they’re not paying you make an example.”

“Yeah.  But there’s…” she inclined her head up and to the right—straight at a security camera that had an active blinking light. There was another one across the way that was aimed at the Maui Diver’s Jewelry shop.

Frowning, Steve dialed Chin. “Steve?”

  “Chin—We’re outside Maui Diver’s Jewelry.  Can you see if they sent over the security footage from around the burglary?”

“Let me check.”  There was a pause of maybe thirty seconds. “I don’t have those logs.”

“They’re missing?”

“Yeah.  I have the eight hours before and after but not during.”

Steve already knew from the manager that the store’s internal recordings had all been damaged during the robbery. Which was a very interesting coincidence. “Thanks Chin.”

“Let me guess,” Kono drawled, one perfect thin eyebrow arched upwards, “they’re missing?”

“Yeah.  Why don’t you see if you can find someone in security who might have access to the feeds—I’m going to go have a chat with that store.”

Splitting up, Steve entered the shop as Kono marched off in search of an unsuspecting security guard to get her the tapes. Unlike the Maui Diver’s shop, there was a security guard posted at the door and he asked to see Steve’s ID when he noted the gun on his hip. “McGarret. 5-0,” Steve said as he held up his ID. 

The security guard was bigger than him and could easily have been one of Kamekona’s cousins by his build. The big Polynesian carefully read his ID before handing it back, his suit jacket pulling over his mountainous shoulders. “Here you go sir.”

“Thanks.  Hey—have you seen anything suspicious going on across at the Maui Diver’s shop?”

The big man shook his head, slipping into island slang as he watched someone come a bit closer to the shop and answered Steve distractedly. “No brah.  I’ve only been working here a few days since they hired us.”

“A few days?”  It’d been a bit over a week since the other shop had been robbed. 

“Yes sir,” the man said, straightening up and looking back at Steve and becoming more formal as the tourist moved off.

“Who do you work for?”

“Oahu Security.  Kevin Lee.”

“Which branch?”

“The Waikiki one,” the man said, eyes now curious as he watched Steve.  “We’re all vetted by HPD and licensed.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Steve agreed conversationally. “The manager in?”

“That’d be Brady—guy standing behind all the watches.”  There was several employees working within—one behind the wedding bands talking to a young woman and older man, another working on untangling a chain with a pair of spectacles perched on the tip of his nose, and a third that was watching everything from his perch behind an impressive selection of Rolexes. 

“Thanks,” Steve headed directly for the watch display. The man behind the display had his hands loosely folded over his expensive charcoal suit, a matching tie and silk handkerchief that had been folded with origami-like precision sticking out of his pocket were ruby red. Everything about him screamed expensive from his haircut to the carefully manicured hands. 

“You’re the manager?”  Steve asked.

Tilting his chin up to look down his narrow nose at him, the man didn’t sneer but his eyes were cold as they took in Steve before he offered a hand to shake. “I am—Alex Brady, general manager.  Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“Commander Steve McGarrett, 5-0.”

The man’s grip became more firm as he gave Steve’s hand a shake and his smile was crocodile-like and oily. “I’ve heard of you Commander. What can I do for you today? Are you in the market to upgrade to a watch befitting of your status? May I suggest the submariner that is the same model that was used by the Apollo astronauts—“

“Uh no.  I’m actually here to ask you about a case.”  He was perfectly fine with the same watch he’d been using that he’d gotten while on lib with Freddie that one time in Switzerland. 

“Oh? Is this about the unfortunate events last week?  I told sweet Keiko that she needed to be more careful,” he said with a small sniff as he dropped Steve’s hand. 

“Keiko?”

“Keiko ‘Aukai.  She owns and manages the pearl shop.”  There was the implication that either the shop or Ms. ‘Aukai wasn’t up to Brady’s standards. 

Keiko hadn’t been who he’d spoken with earlier—Steve had spoken with the manager who had given her name as Sara. He’d have to look into it or have one of the others do so.   “Why did you tell her to be more careful?”

Pulling at his cuff links, Brady fidgeted. “Well… since you’re here. There’s been some… suggestions made about security concerns.”

“What kind of suggestions.”

Brady’s pale green eyes fastened on Steve. “The ones easily put off by money.”

Ah! Finally he was getting somewhere. “And who was it that was making these suggestions?”

“At first it was just this one man—terrible taste in fashion. Very gaudy—he had no taste unlike yourself I’m sure.  I suggested that he might want to consider getting a stylist—some styles should never come back.”

“Like what?  What styles?” Steve asked, puzzled where the man was going with this.  “Is this the man?” He held up a picture of Kanazawa. 

Looking at the phone, Brady shook his head. “No—not this man although he needs to take better care of his skin or he’s going to have terrible wrinkles when he gets older.  The first time this man came around asking for money he had a mullet and was wearing a royal purple suit that didn’t fit him.”

A feeling of dread bloomed in Steve’s gut.  Mullet. Terrible fashion choices. “Did he give you a name?”

Brady shook his head. “No. Or at least not one that was his.  He said that if I didn’t authorize payment then he couldn’t guarantee my store’s continued profitability.”

“He was shaking you down for protection money?”

The manager shrugged, a look of disgust on his face. “It’s against company policy.  In this day and age—can you imagine? I hired our security consultants the next day.”

Steve looked back over his shoulder at Kevin who was still watching everyone who came within a certain distance of the store very carefully. He wasn’t visibly armed but his size alone would be intimidating to most.  It wouldn’t stop Yakuza enforcers if that was what they were dealing with. “You said he’s been back more than once?”

“Yes.  I saw him talking to Keiko the day before the robbery.  She was upset.”  Brady did at least look a little sad about this.  “She should have listened to me,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Should have listened to you?”

“We could have gotten a better rate if we’d gone in together—security is quite expensive,” he complained. “However I think after the robbery that they are paying for themselves.”

“Yeah.  I don’t suppose you have security feeds of that visit?”  Steve tried not to get his hopes up but he could see some discrete cameras in the store focused on the display cases. 

“No.   He approached me at lunch.”

Damnit. “Where was that?”

“I had a meeting at Duke’s Barefoot Bar.  He approached me there.”

Steve knew they had some cameras in the bar.  “What day and do you remember what time?”

“Two Thursday’s ago.  It was a late lunch—after 2. So it would be after then.”

He asked a few more details but Brady didn’t offer much more that was useful. Brady did take his card and promised he’d call if he had any further problems. 

Steve was just walking out when his phone rang with Danny’s ringtone. “What’s up Danno?”

***

We could try to put it out

But it’s a glowing flame

Using fear as fuel

Burning down our name

And it won’t take too long

‘Cause words all burn the same

And who are we going to blame now?

 

Danny

 

Danny couldn’t help but let his gaze keep sliding towards his office. Buck had closed the door but hadn’t closed the blinds so from the computer table he had a pretty good view of the kid’s face.  Whoever Buck was talking to, he was animated and trying to put on a cheerful front but there was a line of tension in his shoulders that seemed genetically identical to Steve’s own body language.

Kid was upset about something. Not about whoever he was talking to that he appeared to be trying to cheer up but there was definitely something he was hiding. The back of Danny’s brain itched, wondering who exactly was on the other side of that call. 

Chin, his own poker face firmly in place, waited until Steve and Kono had headed out before inclining his head towards Buck. “Something we need to worry about?”

“No,” Danny replied, firm.  Whatever was going on with Buck it wasn’t a problem for 5-0.  At the unimpressed look his answer got, he felt compelled to explain just a bit. “It’s a personal problem—probably.”

“Probably?”  One of those fine pencil thin eyebrows twitched and the corner of the mouth turned up in a half-smile that showed he’d amused Chin. 

Rolling his eyes, Danny waved his hands. “Family drama—I think.”

“Is this family drama going to follow him here?” Chin asked carefully.

“This isn’t a Doris problem.” Danny insisted, realizing that Chin was probably assuming that Buck had the type of family problems that Steve had instead of different—more normal—ones.  Not everyone’s mother pretended to be dead for almost two decades and had been a maybe or maybe not so ex- CIA agent. 

Then again, Danny was just assuming that Buck didn’t.  He might need to double check that at some point. 

Chin frowned but his eyes danced in amusement as he looked towards the office and then back at Danny. “Just promise you’ll let us know if we need to be ready for a Doris shaped problem.”

“Don’t say her name like that.  If you keep saying it she’s going to appear suddenly and before you know it someone’s getting shot again.”

“You mean like Beetlejuice?” Chin was just trolling him.  

Probably.  

Better not to tempt fate. 

“More like Bloody Mary,” Danny muttered under his breath. 

Chin laughed at him before sobering. “You’re right.  I think Steve still hasn’t settled from the last time she was here.”

“No he hasn’t.”  Danny, on his best days, was disinclined to be charitable towards Doris McGarett. The emotional wringer she put Steve through each time she got in contact or wandered her way through the islands left a lot of destruction in her wake. The only person Danny liked less from Steve’s navy days was Joe White. Between Joe and Doris it was no wonder that Steve had so many issues that he should be in therapy for. 

So sue him—he was protective of his partner. He didn’t have to like Doris or Joe.  Danny just had to deal with the aftermath and hope that neither of them finally managed to kill Steve with their disregard for his health and safety. 

The last time they’d seen Doris she’d been boarding a plane for somewhere in Asia. Danny hadn’t cared about the details as he assumed she’d disappear quickly from wherever she got off the plane and it wasn’t worth knowing.  Wo Fat had irritatingly managed to somehow wriggle his way out of Halawa and hadn’t been seen since that day either—presumably chasing after Doris. 

Good riddance to both of them, Danny thought. May they hop, skip and jump all over the world as long as it didn’t take them back here to Hawaii.

He knew that Steve still regularly chatted with Joe at least every other week or so.  It occurred to Danny that if Joe had trained Steve, Buck might know him. The thought of the kid looking up to Joe like Steve did turned something in his stomach sour. Buck was, at least to Danny’s observation, still much more impressionable than Steve. 

Danny would have to inquire if Buck knew Joe.  Then he would know whether or not to be prepared to shelter the kid if Joe decided to randomly show up asking for favors.  Buck would have no ability to say no just like Steve and Danny would have to shut that down before it started. 

He just needed to know if he needed to be prepared or not. 

Chin quietly returned to his work, reading reports and making connections that may or may not be worth checking out.  Danny was nominally also scrolling through some of the police reports but mainly he was watching Buck.

Buck was so expressive—he still had the tension in his shoulders but his face was softer and a smile curled his lips as he used his hands to talk. He was obviously talking about something to do with swimming or fish based on that hand wiggle that Danny had seen Steve do when talking about fishing with Grace. 

Gradually, the conversation appeared to draw down. Buck’s eyes dimmed a bit but the smile remained determinedly pasted on his face as if he was trying to cheer someone else up. 

When the call ended, Buck let his head drop to the desk and hid his face in his arms. The shudder that shook his body was big before he stilled, taking a moment to gather himself and hide his face from the world. 

The tired rub of his face as it resurfaced made him look older—another expression Danny had seen on Steve before too. 

Taking that as a sign that it would be okay to interrupt, Danny silently opened his door.  When Buck didn’t look up he knocked one knuckle against the doorframe. “Everything okay?”

Buck looked up, face pale and eyes red. He looked tired and like he’d aged five years in the two minutes since the call had ended. “No.”

“Want to talk about it?” Danny offered, resisting the urge to press the kid. 

Buck thought for a moment, his hands tightening where they were wrapped around his arms. As his blue eyes flicked up to meet Danny’s he shrugged. “Maybe later?  We’re at work.”

“Sure,” Danny replied easily. “You up to doing some canvassing with me?”

Looking relieved at the suggestion of something to do, Buck sprang from the chair. “Yeah.  Where we going?”

“Waikiki.”

“Cool.  I’ve never actually been there.”

“Haven’t you visited Steve before?” Danny asked as they exited the office with a wave to Chin. 

“Not here on Oahu.  We were stationed out of Coronado when I was in and then he had an apartment in Virginia Beach when I visited after graduating from the fire academy. Never had the chance before now to see Hawaii.”

“Well I suppose we should give you a tour then.  If nothing else you’re going to be good at playing undercover tourist.”

“Is that what a haole is?”

“Ah—no.  Maybe avoid calling anybody that.”

“So it is an insult?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“You know I’m just going to ask Steve right?”

“I’m going to enjoy your innocence for just a little bit longer.”  At least that made Buck laugh as they got in the camaro. Danny didn’t wait for the kid to get his belt fashioned before he gunned the engine into reverse making him yelp. 

***

Driving down Kalākaua Avenue got the predictable question. “Is Kono’s family famous?”

Smiling as he waited at the stoplight for the stream of tourists lugging beach paraphernalia back and forth across the street, Danny tried not to laugh.  He’d been given a lecture by Steve on the important parts of Hawaiian history often enough that he actually knew the answer to this one.  “It’s not that uncommon of a last name… but the street is named after a relative of hers.”

“Who was that?”

“King Kalākaua.”

Buck had been looking out the window trying to take it all in but his neck swiveled to look at Danny with an incredulous expression. “Kono’s royalty?”

Laughing, he shook his head. “No.  But please feel free to call her a princess. She’ll find that funny.”

Giving Danny a suspicious look, Buck slowly looked back out the window.  “I’m pretty sure I should not call her that.”

Shrugging, Danny turned into one of the parking garages. “Well Kono is a strong independent woman—ergo the princess of 5-0.”

Buck snorted. “Still think it’s a 50/50 chance she’d drop kick me for implying that she’s delicate or something.”

“She thinks you’re pretty. She’d probably just find it funny.”

The smile that twisted Buck’s lips made him look younger than his age and Danny found himself relaxing a bit. Making a game plan as they parked, Danny sent Buck off to play tourist in the bars—he’d listen and float around to see if he heard anything questionable. The way Buck had perked up with being given instructions reminded Danny of a golden retriever.

Steve was sometimes too much of a german shepherd but his protege was all golden retriever. 

Splitting up with strict instructions for Buck to call him if he saw anything weird, Danny wandered into shop after shop, talking to those who worked there and showing Kanazawa’s photo.  He was coming up empty handed for the most part but there had been a few telling pauses when he’d asked about shakedowns. Something was going on in Waikiki but people were hiding it—which didn’t tell him who or why. 

Dodging tourists that walked too slow on the sidewalk, Danny entered a surf wear shop that was right across from Duke’s statue. The shop sold high end surf wear but also had beautiful, custom surfboards that Danny knew his coworkers would all ooh and ah over.  The koa wood one was mostly decorative rather than functional but it was a work of art.  The native woman who greeted him as he entered had a beautiful deep purple plumeria blossom behind her pierced left ear with a silver honu and Maui’s fishhook earrings that decorated the lobe and her smile was pearly white against her deeply tanned skin. “Aloha—can I help you?”

Danny flashed his badge. “I’m with 5-0.  I was wondering if your manager is in?”

Her smile didn’t dim and the toss of her long dark hair was flirtatious—even if she was way too young for him to really be interested in her. “I’ll get Kai for you,” she slipped away towards the back leaving him surrounded by racks of surf wear. 

Left to his own devices, he took one look at a price tag on a simple island company branded t-shirt and blanched at it—that was a highway robbery!  Who would pay that for a t-shirt?  Thank god Grace wasn’t into this stuff. 

Kai—the supposed manager—was also a native and he wore a brilliant sky blue billabong t-shirt and contrasting navy board shorts, flip flops on his feet and braided shell necklace around this throat with a fishhook hanging in the dip between his clavicles, his bone structure enough to make models weep in jealousy.  Danny was never going to get used to the casual approach the island took to business wear but supposed that given the man was managing a surf shop he at least fit in with the merchandise. 

“Lani said you needed to speak with me?” Kai asked, tone pleasant. 

“Detective Danny Williams, 5-0.  We’re following up on a string of reported issues.  Do you have an office we can talk in?”  

“Sure,” Kai gestured towards the back and took Danny to a small cramped office that had a desk wedged in the corner with one small chair opposite. Kai took the desk while Danny took the chair. “What can we do for 5-0?”

Bringing up Kanazawa’s photo, Danny held out his phone to Kai.  “There’s been a string of intimidation attempts for money as well as robberies.  Does this man look familiar?”

Kai took Danny’s phone and expertly turned up the brightness, taking a good look at Kanazawa’s photo.  His face was carefully blank, but his fingers tightened briefly on the phone before he handed it back. “Who is he?”

“He was arrested earlier today robbing a food truck.”

Kai made a “hnng” noise in the back of his throat, eyes returning to the photo. “He native?”

Danny shook his head. “No—or at least we don’t believe so.  Do you know him?” He repeated. 

Kai shrugged his shoulders, arms crossing over his chest making a tattoo peak out from under his right shirtsleeve—the brushstrokes a Japanese characters visible but Danny couldn’t read them. “I may have seen him on the street but I have never seen him in this shop,” Kai insisted. “What is his name?”

“Jacob Kanazawa.”

Looking thoughtful for a moment, the Hawaiian again shook his head. “I do not know anyone by that name that looks like that. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Danny wasn’t sure he believed Kai—there was something there when he’d looked at the photo. “Have you been having any trouble from locals trying to get protection money out of you?”

That got a brisk reply, Kai’s mouth flattening in distaste. “No.  Not recently.  We would have reported it to HPD if we had—or the Kapu would have taken care of it.”

“You know Kawika?” Danny’s eyebrow rose.  He hadn’t expected to hear mention of the Kapu here in Waikiki. 

Looking unimpressed, Kai shrugged again. “Kawika is not the only Kapu.  Many of them teach surf lessons across the road and are friends.”

Kai sure was using Kawika’s name with familiarity.  Danny would need to make sure Steve checked in with Kawika.  The Kapu usually were more easily found on the North Shore or on the other side of the Ko’olau mountains in the countryside outside of Honolulu. “You know a lot of Kapu?”

The manager’s eyes became shuttered, wary. “I do. Is that a problem?”  Kai was still polite but Danny sensed that the man had just barely resisted calling him a haole—his eyes had swept up and down looking pointedly at his necktie. 

“It’s not a problem—my partner is good friends with Kawika,” Danny tried to soothe. “I’m only asking because we’re trying to make sure that your shop isn’t being affected.”

“We’ve had no problems,” Kai said dismissively. “Anything else?”

“No—but let me give you my card.  If you think of anything or see anything that might help please do no hesitate to get in touch.”  Handing the man his card, Danny stood to leave. 

“I will let you know if I see something worrying, Detective.”

“Appreciate it.” 

Lani gave him a friendly wave and soft, “Aloha” as he left the shop. 

Standing outside on the sidewalk, Danny checked his phone for messages to see if Buck had found anything.  There was something about Kai that was bugging Danny but he figured he’d have to leave it for now and see what happened. He had several more businesses to check in with.

He did have a message from Buck and it included a couple of photos that had been sent maybe five minutes ago.

Do you know this guy?  Looks like money changing hands. 

Making the photos bigger, Danny swore under his breath as he recognized the man on the other side of the pineapple bedecked cocktail that Buck had been faking taking a picture of.  He’d cut his mullet off but the man was easily recognizable—shark-like smile and terrible fashion sense still intact as he accepted an envelope that looked the right size to be filled with a fat wad of cash.  It was Sang Min and Danny’s shoulder ached in remembrance of being shot by the asshole. 

Sang Min had been in the wind for months and they’d assumed he’d crawled back under a rock somewhere outside of Hawai’i to lay low after he’d skipped bail for his re-trial that he’d been granted for helping them out with Wo Fat. 

Where are you at? Danny typed out, heart rate rising. Buck wouldn’t know—couldn’t know—who it was he’d caught a picture of. 

Duke’s Barefoot Bar.  Table by the water.

Don’t leave there—stay out in public.  Act natural. I’m on my way. 

***

But now it’s beginning to show

A number of people are numbers that ain’t coming home

I could close my eyes, it’s still there

Close my mind, be alone

I could close my heart and not care

But gravity has got a hold on us all

 

It’s a terrific price to pay

But in the true sense of the word

Are we using what we’ve learned?

In the true sense of the word

Are we losing what we were?

 

Eddie

Getting Christopher off to school had been a process.  

His son had been clingy—the way he kept watching Eddie was a reminder that Christopher had lost his mom and was afraid of losing his sole remaining parent. Eddie had scared his son and he’d had to be extra persuasive to get long enough to shower with Chris sitting on the toilet in his pajamas, needing the reassurance of him keeping up a stream of small talk and refusing to be more than five feet away at all times. 

He’d fucked up—big time. How could he have done this to Chris?  How could he have been so stupid, so reckless? He was failing again and again. A disappointment. He never stopped failing his son.

He tried his best to ignore the repetitive mantra in the back of his mind that kept reminding him just how much of a screw up he was. Eddie couldn’t silence it—how do you stop yourself from knowing how much you’d failed?  He was raised to take accountability for his actions and… he would have to. 

There was a message from a number he didn’t recognize when he’d woken up with Chris snuggled into him on the couch.  Gingerly reaching across Chris’ sleeping form, he’d pulled it up, tilting the screen away so it wouldn’t wake his son.  It was from Deacon Kay telling him that he’d be picking up Eddie around nine to take him to his first therapy appointment. 

This was followed by a short message from Bobby that had the contact information for a therapist without any further details. 

Eddie assumed this was the therapist that Kay was taking him to see. 

There was a brief flare of irritation at their managing of him but he suppressed it immediately.  This was about taking accountability for his actions.  He couldn’t screw this up. 

Getting ready for the day had been slower than normal, Eddie moving like a man three times his age.  Everything hurt and was stiff from sleeping on the couch instead of in bed. 

The shower with Chris hovering made him feel a bit more human instead of a collection of aches and pains. He’d hardly been able to eat any of his bowl of cereal as just lifting the almost full milk jug had informed him that he’d done something to his elbow last night that he’d somehow missed. He’d pulled on a long sleeved shirt to hide the blossoming bruises but he couldn’t really hide the ones on the side of his face that were beginning to turn purple as they blossomed fully. 

Christopher had seen the bruises and he’d looked scared before Eddie could hide them underneath his shirt. 

They hadn’t talked about them. 

Both of them had mostly just moved their cereal around in the bowl rather than eating any of it. Neither of them had an appetite this morning. 

The drive to school was silent on Christopher’s side—responding to none of Eddie’s attempts to cheer him up. When he’d pulled up to the curb at the drop off point, Christopher had moved slower than molasses getting out so Eddie had moved to help him.  

Which is how they ended up this way, hugging each other like they never wanted to let each other go ever again.

Christopher had tightly wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist in front of his school, face buried in Eddie’s stomach as he wrapped his own arms around his son, eyes dropped to the wild curls that were extra tight in the early morning humidity that promised the day was going to be scorching hot later.  Other students and their parents streamed past them on their way into the school but Chris was reluctant to let him go.  His ribs twinged in protest but Eddie ignored them, focusing on his son’s thin arms wrapped around him. 

This was his why. This was his reason.  He’d do anything for Chris—even fix himself. Or at least keep trying. Reluctantly separating when the warning bell rang, Eddie felt like his feet were rooted to the pavement as he watched Chris enter school.  There was one last look from him as he went through the door and Eddie waved helplessly. Chris must have seen him because he gave a small wave back before disappearing into the school. 

Only about eight hours until Chris would be done and coming home. 

Eddie’s stomach fell out as he remembered his upcoming appointment that he was going to be escorted to. 

It’d been years since he’d last willingly talked to a psychiatrist or any sort of therapist outside of encountering them during a call. He hadn’t… the last time he’d withdrawn from therapy as it hadn’t been mandatory. Closing his eyes to brace himself, he rubbed his face with both hands. He should get home so Kay didn’t go looking for him.

***

Deacon Kay was punctual—Eddie’d have to give him that. Driving a black SUV with government plates, Deacon had simply asked Eddie how he was before falling silent and not pressing for more conversation. Eddie stewed in the silence, trying to figure out if he should be trying to fill it or not. He didn’t know what to say.  Deacon was here to make sure he went to his appointment as he said he would. This was in line with what Eddie had expected after the discussion last night. 

Had it just been last night?

Time had seemed to both crawl by and fly past him. 

Deacon took him to a Spanish colonial style building that had multiple entrances with signs outside of them advertising various medical specialties.  The second one on the right was where they were headed into a small modern style lobby that had a receptionist sitting behind a desk.  It was very… serene. The sound of falling water over the speakers and the light misting of an essential oil diffuser made the entire place smell like cinnamon and vanilla sugar cookies making Eddie almost hungry as it coated the back of his tongue. 

The young man behind the desk had a shock of bright red hair styled expertly with gel and he smiled at Deacon to reveal perfect, even blazingly white teeth. Eddie instantly pegged him as one of the many who came to LA to work in the film industry as his skin was just a bit too perfect as were his clothes but he seemed nice enough as he greeted them. 

The receptionist and Deacon quietly talked and Eddie heard his name given as Deacon pointed at him and a clipboard was handed over with a pen and a small smile.  Turning, Deacon gave him the clipboard. “They’re asking for your medical history.”

Eddie didn’t say anything but took the clipboard and retreated to one of the chairs to fill it out.  Deacon didn’t press but took the seat next to him, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it, giving Eddie space again. 

Taking a deep breath, Eddie tried to focus on the forms. He filled out his medical data trying his best to make his writing legible in the cramped spaces left for him to write but he hesitated when he got to the emergency contact. He’d updated his stuff at the hospital after the well incident to have Buck as his first contact followed by Pepa. 

Pressing so hard into the paper, the pen left a big black splotch of ink and he mentally swore to himself as he got some on his fingers as he tried to stop it from obscuring the entire line. Buck wasn’t around and… he didn’t necessarily want to burden Buck further with being contacted by his shrink—this was already humiliating enough that he had to be here. He put down Pepa’s name and contact information first followed by Abuela’s. He’d get pestered by them but they wouldn’t… they wouldn’t be like his parents about it.

Finishing the form, he handed it in to the receptionist and then retook his seat. 

Staring at his hands, time crawled by.  He felt like all his nerves were keyed up to the max, each little noise or movement magnified as his anxiety made him want to fidget but he ruthlessly suppressed it, squeezing his hands together and making the knuckles blanch under the bruising, the pain making him able to focus. The noise of the air conditioning fan kicking on was a loud buzz in his ears but he was sure it wasn’t actually really noticeable to anyone else but he’d jumped just slightly when it started, unable to suppress the reaction.  He knew Kay had noticed as he’d looked up from his phone to briefly glance at Eddie but hadn’t said anything. 

Eddie didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. 

It seemed forever but it really was only about fifteen minutes when the door next to the receptionist opened and a middle aged woman with short hair exited. She held herself rigidly, her body language tense but her voice was calm when she spoke to arrange her next appointment—evidently there was a time conflict with it and she needed to reschedule.  She finished her business and left, never glancing Eddie’s way. 

A minute later a man exited the door and called Eddie’s name.  He was using crutches, his left pant leg rolled up and neatly pinned to reveal that he was missing his leg from above the knee.  Eddie couldn’t help but stare.  “Edmundo Diaz?”

Popping to his feet, Eddie crossed the room rapidly and took the man’s hand when he held it out to shake, conscious not to pull too hard and make the man overbalance like he would with Chris. “It’s Eddie.”

“Eddie,” the man corrected, grip firm as he gave Eddie’s a pump. “I’m Frank.  Let’s go to my office.”

Eddie followed Frank into the office, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that Bobby had sent him to a therapist that was… he tried not to think that Bobby was trying to emotionally manipulate him this way.  It was likely a coincidence but the vague memory of Buck saying something about Bobby and being frustrated about something he’d done…no.  This had to be a coincidence that his therapist used crutches. Like his son.

His eye caught a display case on the bookcase behind the desk.  It had service medals displayed in a glass case as well as the USMC logo in the center.  The Afghanistan Campaign Medal stood out in particular—Eddie had the same one. Nodding towards the case, Eddie asked, “Those yours?”

Lifting one eyebrow, Frank nodded in ascent. “Yes.”

“You’re a veteran?” Eddie found himself dumbly repeating the question.

“Yes.  You were in the army I believe?”

“Yeah.”  Eddie just stood and stared, uncertain what to do. 

Frank gestured for him to take a seat in one of the armchairs that were on opposite sides of a coffee table that was clear of any magazines or other things you’d normally find there. Off to the side there was a desk with a computer on it but Frank took the other armchair n the other side of the table, taking out a clipboard that looked familiar—it was the one with all the paperwork that Eddie had filled out attached along with a few more sheets of paper from the look of it. 

The nervous thought of just what kind of other papers were there was worrying. What had Frank been told about him to get an emergency appointment this early in the morning with no notice?  Trying not to hunch in on himself, Eddie crossed his knees and buried his hands in his jeans, scrunching the fabric to give him something to hold onto that wasn’t readily visible by the therapist due to the angle. 

The sharp look in Frank’s eyes made Eddie think that he hadn’t not noticed Eddie’s actions.  Frank was older than Eddie given the faint traces of silver in his wavy hair but his expression was kind and calm despite the sharpness with which he observed him from under lowered brows as he glanced down at the paperwork before looking fully at Eddie. “So Eddie, what brings you here?”

The innocuousness of the question wasn’t what Eddie expected somehow. Surely Frank was aware of why Eddie was here?  

“I was… it’s part of an agreement so I don’t get charged with assault,” Eddie admitted after a moment.

“So I’ve been informed by Sergeant Kay and Robert Nash,” Frank agreed, head tilting slightly as he rested his chin on one hand. “But why did you chose to come here?”

“To stay out of jail?  So I could go home?” Eddie stared at Frank, unsure what the man was getting at. 

Frank pursed his lips slightly before they smoothed out. “What lead to you getting in trouble?”

Eddie swallowed. This… therapist was blunt—how much had he been told? “It’s been a tough couple of months,” he ground out. 

This got him a nod.  “Why don’t you tell me about what’s been going on then?”

Eddie proceeded to tell Frank about himself—not giving too many details but outlining moving from Texas for better opportunities for Chris, getting a job at the 118, reuniting with Shannon and her dying and then getting in fights when Chris wouldn’t sleep.  He ended with getting caught at the fight the night before and the terms that had been outlined as conditions for him staying out of jail. 

Frank listened attentively, not asking questions or interjecting as Eddie outlined the basic details. As Eddie trailed off, unsure what else to say he was silent for a few beats. “Why do you think you were fighting? What were you getting out of it?”

Eddie thought for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully.  He’d almost forgotten how shrinks liked to needle their way into things he didn’t want to share. “I was angry. I’ve been angry for a while. When Lena took me to the first fight it was about blowing off some steam.”

“Did it help?”  The question was almost too innocent.

“For a while. Then I got angry again.”  That had been after the arbitration meeting.  Buck telling that lawyer all those personal things, having to sit across from Buck and unable to talk to him for liability reasons had been so isolating and then Chris had another nightmare that night. He’d sought out another fight the next night without Lena’s help. 

The bruises and pain from the hits he’d taken had lingered longer than the relief had. 

“Why are you angry?  What are you angry about?” Frank asked. “What makes it better or worse?”

“I’m angry about a lot of things—“. His first thought was Shannon but that was unfair. She was gone and being angry at her wasn’t… fair. Being angry at a dead person, the mother of his child wasn’t what you were supposed to do.  This was his.. his fault. His fault for fucking up and making the wrong choices. His fault. He failed so much—too much.  He couldn’t stop failing Chris. He’d failed Buck too and Shannon.  He just wanted, for once, to not fail.  “Fighting makes it go away for a while. Gives me control to let loose but it comes back.  Fighting is a… relief.”

Fighting wasn’t failing it was being in control… but then again it was a whole different type of failure given the consequences he was facing. 

Frank gave a slow nod, noting something on the paperwork. “Would you say that fighting is a coping mechanism?”

Eddie wrinkled his nose.  Coping mechanism?  The idea of fighting being that… well it probably was. “Maybe,” he finally allowed.

“Do you think it’s working?” Was the quick question. 

That made him pause. Was it working?  Yeah it worked but just for a while and he couldn’t keep doing it or he would lose his job or worse. 

When he didn’t answer, Frank did. “I can see from your expression that you don’t think it’s something you can keep doing even if it works at least for a bit.”

“No.”

“What else have you tried in the past?” Was the next question.  “As coping mechanisms when you’re stressed or angry?”

Rubbing his face with both hands, Eddie did hunch into himself as he thought of how to answer. He didn’t want to admit that when Shannon and he used to argue it usually led to sex but that hadn’t solved any problems for them—just delayed the blow up until he screwed up again or Shannon couldn’t take it anymore. Usually when he was having trouble with something over the last year he’d talk to Buck but that obviously wasn’t an option right now—was it?

Frank kept on with his probing questions, slowly teasing more and more details out of Eddie that he gave up in small chunks. It was exhausting trying to keep back just a little bit, to not tell everything to the therapist but Eddie didn’t want to give up everything.  The last time he’d been in therapy after coming back from Afghanistan he’d actually tried and told them everything and it had backfired. Shannon had left, his parents and he’d fought over Chris and he’d had to leave Texas in the end.  

He hadn’t been retreating—he’d been looking for somewhere where both Chris and he could have a life apart from his parents and the lingering pain of Shannon leaving. It hadn’t been chasing after her—it’d been the best option at the time.

He didn’t want to leave LA and disrupt Chris’ life again.  

His brain traitorously also pointed out that Buck would have to come home eventually and he had a lot of groveling to do there. He wasn’t thinking of Buck as his coping mechanism but he was at the edge of his thoughts but Eddie instinctively shielded Buck from Frank’s searching questions. Not because he didn’t want to think of Buck but more because he didn’t think Buck was any of Frank’s business. 

He wasn’t going to tell Frank everything. He’d tell him just enough to work on getting a better handle on his anger. That’s what he was here for. 

It was an exhausting hour. Once Frank was mostly satisfied with the anger line of questioning he’d moved on to covering Eddie’s life history.  Eddie got the impression Frank was letting him gloss over details today and he’d note them for later discussion which made him inwardly frustrated but he kept that in. He knew what he was here for. 

When Frank finally stopped his never ending questions, he asked one last question that felt like a repeat—but slightly re-worded. “What do you want to get out of being here?”

The question felt like it cut through his brain. What did he want?  He wanted to not be here in the first place. He wanted… he had his reasons for why he was here. Unconsciously, his hand sought out the medal around his neck, fingers wrapping around the oval charm and tugging on it so the metal bit into his skin. “Why am I here?”

Frank nodded but didn’t repeat himself, waiting Eddie out. 

The words caught in his throat and he had to clear it twice before speaking. 

“I’m here because I need to get myself straightened out—for my son.”

Nodding thoughtfully and didn’t challenge his statement. “Today’s Monday—I was told you are signed off work for two weeks according to Mr. Nash which means I’d like to see you more frequently at least to start. We’ll plan on meeting again Friday. In the meantime I want to give you some homework.”

“Homework?” Eddie frowned. 

“Homework. I want you to identify when you’re getting angry or stressed—triggers.  I want you to write them down. We call this a thought diary.”

“A diary?” He asked, skepticism bleeding into his tone. 

“Or if you prefer the term journal we can use that. But I want you to try and identify your thoughts several times a day at least but especially if you have something that upsets you or is stressful. 

Eddie tried to focus on the small booklet that Frank handed him.  He listened quietly as Frank explained the sections and how to do what equaled a mood diary. Frank then went over a few details with him—emergency contact information, when to use it, and what to expect from future sessions. Eddie was still stuck back on the two weeks off part—there was an implication there that he’d have to be cleared to go back to work. 

The realization that this was how Buck had felt… that he was dependent on someone else saying if he could go back to work…

Shit.  He owed Buck so many apologies. Buck had tried to tell him how frustrated he’d been and Eddie’d blown him off, saying that he’d get there when he was ready. Even though Buck had already felt ready to go back.

Nodding and making the appropriate noises, Eddie tried to focus on the last few minutes of the appointment. 

When the session was finally over, Eddie shuffled out to the receptionist’s desk and made an appointment for Friday. Deacon had waited until he was done speaking with the receptionist before getting up and joining him. 

They were almost back to the car before the other man said anything. “Are you okay?”

Eddie looked at him sharply.  Deacon was watching him back, face neutral but eyes were—worried?  Deacon hardly knew him but the man seemed to actually care. 

“I’m just tired,” he deflected. “Didn’t get much sleep.”

Deacon just nodded. “If you ever need to talk to someone who isn’t your boss to talk to… I just wanted you to know that I’m happy to listen.  I didn’t get the whole story of what’s been going on in your life but I know that your best friend isn’t here right now.”

“Yeah and that’s partially my fault,” Eddie interrupted him, looking away and staring straight ahead through the windshield. 

“It’s not just yours though,” Deacon insisted, the light touch to Eddie’s shoulder.  “If your work team is anything like mine it’s also like a family and part of yours isn’t here right now. I just want you to know that I’m willing to listen if you need to talk.”

“Isn’t that why I’m going to a therapist?” Eddie shot back, still not sure what else to say. 

Deacon’s mouth twisted in a wry smile.  “I know you’re doing this because you have to—but it never hurts to have another option for support.”

“Whatever,” Eddie slumped into the seat, determinedly looking away.

When they pulled up in front of his house, Deacon didn’t get out of the car.  Feeling ashamed for biting the man’s head off, Eddie lingered with his hand on the car door. “Look—I…”

“I get it,” Deacon tried to reassure him. 

“No,” Eddie made a cutting motion with his free hand and it made him wince as his ribs twinged in pain.  He needed to start now making changes—atoning for his failures.  Being an asshole to Deacon Kay just because he was giving Eddie a second chance that not everyone got wasn’t who he was. “I’m sorry for being a jerk about this.”

“You’re going through a lot.  I can see that.”  

The man was being too understanding.  Eddie wished he’d be less.  He didn’t deserve understanding. 

“Yeah.  And that best friend of mine whose apartment you were in? I’m the reason he’s not here anymore.”

“You sure about that? Because I thought it was about more than just you.”

Eddie paused, trying to figure out what Deacon was saying.  “You know where Buck went.”

Deacon shrugged. “I have a pretty good idea.”

Eddie thought for a moment, unsure if he asked if he’d get the truth.  Deacon hadn’t wanted to tell him previously—he was pretty sure that hadn’t changed.  “You said he’s… safe? That he’s okay?”

“The people he’s with are people my partner knows, has worked with before. He’s in good hands.”

Eddie let his gaze drop, chewing on his cheek.  Deacon was SWAT.  Whatever they’d ‘borrowed’ Buck for hadn’t been for his usual work and the anxiety Eddie felt at that thought made his chest feel tight. “I… I told Buck that he could always have my back and that I’d always have his. And now I don’t because he’s not here… and part of the reason he’s not where I can back him up, watch his back is because I failed him.”

“I’m sure Buck doesn’t see it that way,” Deacon insisted. 

Eddie shook his head in denial. “No.  You can’t know that.  You weren’t there when I told him… I told him he was exhausting.”

“I’m sure that there were extenuating circumstances and that you didn’t mean that—”

Eddie interrupted before Deacon could say anything else. “I was so focused on my son that I forgot my best friend had been crushed in a truck and struggling too. I accused him of being so focused on himself that… that he forgot about others.  But you know what?  Buck is the most selfless person I know. He became a firefighter because he wanted to help other people. He gave me Carla!”

“Carla?” Deacon asked in confusion.

“My son’s healthcare aide,” he explained, agitated now. “Buck is… his sister is the only family he really has and she was gone for years. He got left behind a lot.  Maddie. Abby. He never talks about his parents either.  I…”

“You what?”

“I wasn’t there for him when he needed me to be.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way.”

“You don’t know Buck like I do.  He thinks…. He thinks everyone leaves him—that he’s not worth staying for and it makes him… it makes him overcompensate and he’s the kindest person I know.  The worst part though?  I did leave him alone.  I listened when I was told not to talk to him by my union rep.  I didn’t have his back. I was so angry because he wasn’t talking to me that I forgot…”

“You forgot what?”

“I told him that he forgot to think about how his actions affected everyone else… but I forgot to do the same.  I’m the biggest hypocrite and asshole.”

Deacon visibly didn’t know what to say to that. “Get some rest.  I’m serious though.  If you feel like you need to talk and you don’t want it to be your therapist let me know.”

“You mean you won’t be checking in on me anyways?” Sarcasm bled into his voice and he internally winced. He just needed to shut up. He was screwing up every time he opened his mouth lately. 

“I will… but I also think you could use a friend. Do you want a ride on Friday?”

“I… “ the question knocked the wind out of Eddie’s sails and derailed his thoughts. He didn’t know how to answer. “Can I let you know?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll let you know,” Eddie said lamely, letting the door fall shut. 

Deacon didn’t wait and did pull away from the curb with a small wave, leaving Eddie in his front yard. 

Eventually he went in and just collapsed back on his couch, ribs protesting the way his muscles just went out from under him. Rubbing his face tiredly, he double checked if there was any response from his message to Buck.  

No answer.

***

He’d finally gotten up and got moving, and began stress cleaning the entire house despite how sore he was.

Which is how he almost missed it when his phone buzzed with an incoming message from Buck.

When he saw that it was from Buck, there was this brief moment where he almost dropped his phone. After this morning, he hadn’t… he though that maybe where Buck was that Deacon wouldn’t just tell him where he was.. he wasn’t sure what he’d thought now. 

But Buck had replied. 

Opening his messages, he saw the reply. 

What time works for you guys?

Eddie paced back and forth in his kitchen, the rag he’d been using to wipe down the cabinets thrown over his shoulder and fluttering behind him like a small cape. What time worked for them?  If anything he should be working around what time worked for Buck. Quickly he typed in the usual Monday schedule that Buck should already know. The thought that Buck didn’t remember the usual schedule made him fret all over again. 

The read receipt said that his message had been read. 

And he waited. 

Waited for a reply.

Buck didn’t immediately reply. The little letters underneath his message said that it had been read at 13:52.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

At fifteen minutes he moved his phone charger to the kitchen counter and made sure the sound was turned all the way up so he wouldn’t miss a notification or call.  He couldn’t just stare at his phone.  

The stress was eating him alive. 

The small house had never been so clean since they’d first moved in—maybe even ever. 

He’d wiped down the entire kitchen, taken out the trash and recycling. Hand scrubbed the floor. Four loads of laundry done with a fifth in the dryer. Vacuumed the living room. Febreezed the couch within an inch of it’s life so it no longer smelled of sweat and the triple antibiotic ointment Pepa had slathered on the few nicks and cuts on his hands before she’d left last night. All the shelves and pictures were dusted off and he’d even wiped down the insides of the windows by the time he’d have to leave to go pick up Christopher. 

Christopher took one look at him and knew. 

He tried to be upbeat.  “Buck is going to try and call tonight,” he said as he helped Chris into the truck.

Chris’ eyebrows lowered, expression skeptical. “What time?”

“I’m not sure Mijo—Buck didn’t know for sure when he was going to be able to.”  That wasn’t a lie exactly. Buck just hadn’t said exactly when but he now knew their schedule. 

“He never has time for me anymore,” Chris muttered, eyes downcast. 

“Hey,” Eddie curled his finger’s under Chris’ chin, tickling lightly so that Chris looked up at him. “Part of that was… was my fault.”

His son’s lips parted in a pout. “Why would it be your fault?”

The moment of truth.  How to tell Chris that he’d… that he’d been the one keeping Buck out. “I forgot to think about what he was going through. I wasn’t there for him like I should have been.”

“Did you say you’re sorry?” Chris asked hesitantly, eyes big and worried.

Eddie sniffled a bit, eyes suddenly watering in the bright sunlight. “I want to—need to say that to him.  But just because he and I—that I made a mistake doesn’t mean that he still doesn’t want to talk to you or spend time with you.”

Chris reached out his arms and wrapped them around Eddie.  The feeling of his son’s small spindly arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace like he never wanted to let go.  Hugging Christopher back, Eddie let himself bury his nose in his son’s curls, eyes falling closed as he fought against crying. He’d been so emotional since last night and the therapy session along with the worry about Buck and everything else was just so much.  

He had to hold it together. Keep it in. 

Despite his bet efforts, twin tear tracts started running down the sides of his face to dampen Chris’ hair. “Daddy?”

“I’m sorry Buddy,” he whispered.

“Bucky will understand.  I’ll talk to him for you.”

“You don’t have to do that mijo.”

Chris pushed away just enough so he could look at him, his cheek smushed into the fabric of his cream colored henley. “But you’re sad and Bucky always helps us and we help him.  He’ll help.”

Somehow he managed to pull himself together enough to get Chris buckled in and drive home.  Letting Chris work on his homework on the couch, he tried to figure out what to make for dinner but was mostly puttering around.  He had some water on the stove that was heating for pasta but the mere thought of how scandalized Buck would be that he was going to use sauce from a jar had him almost crying again so he’d had to busy himself pulling silverware out to set the table. 

His phone chirped—signaling a message. 

Now is a good time. Does it work for you?

Replying yes, he grabbed Chris’ school tablet and transferred the the call to it, letting it dial Buck’s number as he walked the short distance between kitchen and living room. 

It connected before he could hand it to Chris, showing Buck’s beautiful impossibly blue eyes that immediately met his. He managed to untwist his tongue enough to say that he’d get Chris, the longing for his best friend clogging his throat and making his speech clumsy. 

Buck looked good on the small screen—not quite as pale as he’d been looking lately and he’d finally gotten some sleep as the dark circles had begun to fade.  The ocean blue eyes had been hopeful as the connection went through and a small smile curling on his lips in the special smile that seemed to just be for Eddie and his son. The special smile that was theirs. 

He thought he’d lost that. 

That it was gone.  

He hadn’t seen it in months. 

Seeing that smile, his hands shook a little as he held out the screen to Chris who enthusiastically reached for it. “Buck!”

He didn’t miss how that smile had fallen just for a moment as he handed off the tablet. Buck’s own enthusiastic greeting to Christopher was normal. 

Eddie caught a glimpse of his own face in the hallway mirror. 

The bruises had really blossomed over the day. The side of his face was almost all colors of the rainbow. Brown, blue, purple and even some green and red. It looked worse than it felt as long as he didn’t touch it. 

He’d screwed up. Buck was observant—it was one of the things he lo-liked best about him. Which meant that of course Buck had immediately zeroed in on the bruising on the side of his face that he’d forgotten about because his ribs hurt worse and he hadn’t slept and he was pretty sure most of his headache was due to fatigue rather than the hits he’d taken. 

The slight widening of those azure eyes and the way his smile had faded told him that Buck had noticed. 

Also—Buck wasn’t stupid.  He added two and two together and came up with Eddie taking a hit to the face. Buck being Buck he was also worried about Eddie despite Eddie not deserving any of it. It was his bad choices that had led to this and he didn’t deserve Buck being worried about him. 

He didn’t. 

Even though it made something unwind in his chest just slightly and his anxiety to fade just a tiny bit. 

He listened as Chris spoke to Buck from just around the corner in the hall, out of sight but not earshot. 

“I’ve missed you Bucky,” Chris confessed guilelessly. 

“I’ve really missed you too Buddy.”  Buck’s voice was tinny but clear through the speakers. 

“Daddy misses you too.  He said you’d had to go away.” Eddie bit his lip and let his eyes close, pressing both of his hands into his face.  He’d hoped that Chris wouldn’t go giving away all his secrets but his kid was too honest sometimes. He hadn’t meant it like when Shannon had left but he was sure Buck would take it that way. 

“I miss him too,” Buck’s confession was immediate and tears again threatened to fall from Eddie’s burning eyes. They’d seen each other less than thirty six hours ago but they’d… they hadn’t talked in months now. Maybe it was like Shannon—he’d run Buck off too. 

“Where did you go Bucky?”

Yes—where had he gone?  Was he ever coming back? When?

Buck was silent a moment.  “A old friend came and asked me if I wanted to visit him.  I said yes.”

“But where?” Chris was whining now—pout likely in full force. “You’re not here.”

Buck caved like wet sugar.  Eddie hadn’t put Chris up to this—his son genuinely wanted to know where his Bucky was. “I’m in Hawaii.”

“Hawaii?” Chris asked, curious.  Eddie wondered how the hell Buck had ended up in Hawaii.  He’d never mentioned anyone there before or having been there. 

“Yep.  The islands in the pacific.  You’d love it here. There’s beaches everywhere and people are nice and friendly. And the food—“ Buck rambled on for a few minutes and Eddie just let the sound of his voice wash over him.  Buck was putting on a good show for Christopher, talking about the tropical fish you could go snorkeling to see and surfing but Eddie was almost sure that Buck had actually done none of those things yet. Instead he listened to the cadence of Buck’s voice that reminded him of one of Buck’s research information dumps that he’d become dependent on to soothe him when they were on shift. 

He hadn’t realized he’d missed them so much until Buck had been on sick leave and he’d tried to wind down late at night between calls without it. Chimney and Hen had ruthlessly ribbed him for being co-dependent on Buck when they’d caught him browsing wikipedia when he couldn’t sleep. 

He wondered how Buck was sleeping being so close to the ocean.  Buck had said that he was still having nightmares about the truck and tsunami… 

His attention was pulled back to the conversation when Chris changed the topic. 

“I asked Daddy if I could talk to you because I had a bad dream last night.”

“Oh?  What kind of dream?” 

Eddie tasted blood—he’d bit his lip.  This is why he’d reached out. 

“I dreamed of the water again.”

“Did you keep swimming?”

Chris was quiet for a moment. 

“It wasn’t me in the water.”

“Aww Buddy. Who was it?”

Listening to Chris sniffle and not immediately go scoop him up to comfort him was hard.  Chris had asked for Buck and Eddie’d gotten a call for him. Maybe Chris’d tell Buck what he wouldn’t tell him. 

“It was Mommy.  I couldn’t reach her.  It was like the wave that took you away.  I swimmed and swimmed but I couldn’t get her… and then I woke up and she wasn’t here and I left her there. “. The way Chris’ voice broke on the last word had him biting his knuckles and he almost stepped out but Buck’s words stopped him.

“You miss her don’t you? Your mom?” Buck finally said, voice soft and understanding. 

“I miss her so much.  Why’d she have to go away? Are you going to go away like her?”

“No. No I’m not… I had to… I’m just visiting here Buddy. I’ll be home soon.”

“When?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Buck hedged. “It depends on how long my friend needs me.”

“Are you helping your friend like you help me and daddy?”

“Kind of.  You know that no one can replace you and your dad right? You guys are my Diaz boys, my best friends.”

“You’re our Bucky. Ours not theirs.”  Eddie could hear the possessiveness in Chris’ voice and he agreed with it.  Buck was theirs not… 

Frank’s comments about identifying triggers and coping mechanisms….

He’d…

Talking with Buck was his coping mechanism. So much so that his son also dealt with stress the same way—talking with Buck. Before they’d had him in their lives Eddie had been constantly stressed.  He’d originally thought it was just coming to LA and leaving Texas that had made all the difference but it hadn’t.  Eddie had forgotten how he’d struggled to make sure he was at the top of his class and how much he’d constantly been worried about Chris and Abuela and making sure he kept all the balls that he was juggling up in the air—that he didn’t drop something important in the constant rush from school to pick up Chris on time from school. 

Buck had changed all that.  

He’d had Eddie’s back from that first shift. 

Buck had become his outlet—the person that Eddie could talk to, could depend on to have his back and be his partner both at work and at home. Buck had given him Carla. Given him a family in the 118–Eddie knew he wouldn’t have let himself get so wrapped up in the found family he’d made thru work if it hadn’t been for the immediate and deep bond that he’d developed with Buck.  While Bobby, Hen, Chim and everyone else were important to him… they weren’t Buck to him. 

Even with all the stress of Shannon coming back and then leaving again… he’d only really felt like he was losing it completely when he’d been told he couldn’t talk to Buck. 

The only thing holding him up was the wall as he listened to his son and Buck talk. He couldn’t focus on what they were saying, just the tone of their voices over the ringing in his ears. Chris said something that made Buck laugh.  Buck said something back teasingly and then Chris also laughed, still sniffling but not crying. 

Knees giving out, Eddie slid to the floor. 

Buck may be thousands of miles away but listening to him talk and cheer up Chris… it was what Eddie needed to hear today. 

The two most important people in his life. 

 

It’s such a tired game

Will it ever stop?

It’s not for me to say

And is it in our blood

Or is it just our fate?

And how will this all play out

Upside out of my mouth

Who are we going to blame all in all

 

It’s such a crying, crying, crying shame

 

Lyrics: Crying Shame by Jack Johnson

Notes:

Whew. So yeah. I wanted this chapter to finish on Buck and Christopher’s FaceTime call instead of pushing it off to the next chapter but Eddie just wanted to suffer.
I’m still not fully satisfied with this but we’re going to push it out and maybe come back later for a second look.

Thank you to everyone who’s commented. Hopefully have more McDanno development in the next chapter.

Chapter 6: Bursts of Static

Summary:

Buck keeps getting caught in spirals but there might be some way of escaping them. Eddie feels like he can breathe after having a long needed talk. An old adversary causes problems for H50.

Ch 6: Bursts of Static

 

Well, how many subplots you got runnin’ around your mind?

The Gordian Knot must be cut through

Give me a red pen, I will simplify your story

Which part of yourself can you afford to lose?

And if you show me your list, then I will show you mine

Let’s kill off a character or two

 

Steve

He may have broken speed records making his way to Duke’s.  Running through the hotel to get to the bar, the hostess at the entrance waved him on, eyes wide when he held up his badge and just kept going.  The bar was moderately busy for late afternoon, tourists enjoying drinks and appetizers mostly rather than eating full meals.  Buck had managed to hide himself by obtaining a baseball cap that he’d put on backwards to hide his blonde hair, wedged into the far corner of the bar by the railing where he had a good vantage point to watch the entire place, a cup of what appeared to be fruit juice in front of him with an obnoxiously large wedge of pineapple sticking out of it.  

Steve didn’t head directly for him, instead moving slightly to the side of the entrance so he could quickly do a sweep of the occupants of the bar.   He briefly met Buck’s eyes and as Steve watched he tilted his head right towards the water where there was a line of tables that were half occupied. 

Two tables held your garden variety pairs of tourists—honeymooners most likely given the amount of makeup and effort put into those hairstyles.  The third, however, held a Hawaiian woman in a light dress that had an orchid print on it in various shades of purple and pink that matched the beadwork of her intricate necklace on her slender neck as well as her lipstick.  That necklace looked a lot like one of the necklaces Steve had noticed in the pearl shop. She was facing Steve and her heart shaped face had a business-like pinch to it as if her dining companion had said something distasteful. 

From the back, Steve couldn’t be sure but the chartreuse color of the suit jacket was almost enough by itself.

Sang Min always had terrible taste in the suits he wore to his court dates—the showy bastard had to be color blind or it was all some sort of weird joke to him.   Danny had made a comment about how the purple one he’d picked to testify for a sentence reduction had looked like something the Joker from Batman would wear—which hadn’t been inaccurate once Kono had shown Steve a picture of the cartoon Danny had been referencing. 

Thank god the man hadn’t gone for green hair for the full effect.  Or the clown makeup but Steve could see him being crazy enough to do that—he’d thrown that fit about needing eyeliner the last time they’d tried to get Sang Min to testify. 

The dark hair was shorn short at the back like it’d been hacked off—not like a professional haircut which was unusual for the criminal.  Even without the mullet Steve was pretty sure it was Sang Min so he headed right for him.  Sang Min had an active warrant out for his arrest after escaping from Halawa. 

Steve would put him back there with pleasure. 

Motioning for Buck to stay put, Steve marched directly at his target. 

The woman was so focused on Sang Min that she didn’t look up until he was right behind the other man then her eyes widened as they landed on the gun he’d pulled. 

“Sang Min—it’s been a while,” Steve growled.  “Put your hands up where I can see them.”

The man turned around, a wide smirk on his face. “McGarrett!  It’s been a while.”

Steve lifted his gun to point right in the bastard’s smug face. “Hands up.  Now.”

Turning more fully in his seat, Sang Min was unbothered by the gun. Crossing his legs, he laced his fingers over his knee. “Wouldn’t you like to join us?  First drink is on me.”

“Stand. Up.”  Steve didn’t know what he was playing at but he wasn’t participating in any crazy games this time. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Buck had circled around and was covering his back, his own gun in his hands but still pointed down at the floor rather than at any specific target—kid was nervous about the civilians which was understandable.  

Sang Min didn’t move. 

There was noise behind Steve and Danny appeared at his side, gun also drawn.

Smirk widening, Sang Min greeted the rest of his team with his usual combination of snark and false pleasantness. “And you brought everyone.  Howzit Danno? And Kono—looking good sistah!”

Steve’s patience had already run out the moment he’d entered Duke’s, Danny’s grumble of ‘don’t call me that’ ignored. “Cuff him Danno,” Steve ordered as he pressed his gun closer, making Sang Min’s eyes cross comically as he stared at the gun barrel even as Danny moved to follow the order.

There was more protesting from Sang Min but he didn’t fight Danny as he snapped the cuffs on him.  The woman who had been sharing the table with Sang Min looked like she wanted to hightail it out of there, her shoulders hunched as she tried to make herself smaller and eyes darting around looking for an opening. Inclining his head towards her, be pointed with his jaw and made eye contact with Buck who’d holstered his gun. 

Taking the hint, Buck stepped forward to grip her elbow and pull her away from the still protesting Sang Min. “Ma’am,” Buck insisted, “If you’d come with me please we have a few questions for you.”

Startled at the touch to her elbow, her eyes flew to Buck’s and she nodded hesitantly and didn’t resist as he pulled her to standing other than to grab her purse. 

The movement had drawn Sang Min’s attention and he focused on Buck.  “McGarrett—who’s the new puppy?”

Buck, annoyed at being called a puppy, straightened to his full height and rolled his shoulders back to meet Sang Min’s curious look head on.  Before Buck could speak, Danny yanked on the cuffs to pull Sang Min around, hand going to between the shoulders to maintain control. “You can get introduced later. For now you have bigger worries.”

“Ah Danno,” Sang Min continued to playfully bait him, “you worry about me.”

“You’re like an ulcer that won’t go away,” Danny snarked back. “And don’t call me Danno.  How about we stick with Detective Williams okay?  And I’ll refrain from calling you what you deserve to be called.”

Whatever further protest was cut off as Danny frogmarched the taller man out of the bar, Kono trailing him. Turning back towards Buck, Steve motioned for Buck to escort the woman out.  The bar manager who’d been hovering in the background stepped forward. “Sir? What just happened?”

Sighing, Steve realized he was going to be the one to soothe the ruffled feathers.  He’d just made an arrest in one of the most visible tourist spots in Waikiki. “I’m sorry—Steve McGarrett with H50….”

***

Making the executive decision since it was late in the day to have Sang Min cool his heels at lockup overnight, Steve allowed Danny and Kono to take over the questioning of the woman who was actually Keiko ‘Aukai of the Maui Diver’s shop—the pearl jewelry shop that Kono had managed to finally get the security footage sent to Chin for which did show masked robbers smashing apart display cases and generally threatening the employees. 

Hopefully Chin could get something useful from the footage. 

Meanwhile, Steve noticed that Buck was starting to look more than tired. Jet lag was catching up with him along with the early morning swim and he was flagging. He’d had an exciting first day so Steve ordered him to grab his things. Danny was too preoccupied with talking with Ms. ‘Aukai and just waved Steve off saying that he’d see him tomorrow. 

Steve was absolutely refusing to think on how pretty Ms. ‘Aukai was or how she was totally Danny’s type from the brief conversation he overheard.   The text message he got once he was in his truck said that Danny was going to head home tonight to spend some time with Grace and Charlie. 

Gathering Buck, he headed home after asking what Buck wanted for dinner.   Buck was okay with whatever so he stopped for some ono and fresh pineapple so he could grill. 

Buck was quiet but it was the thinking kind of quiet. He followed Steve’s directions to make a salad while Steve made the marinade for the fish and prepped the grill. Grabbing a pair of longboards, Steve encouraged Buck to go enjoy the beach while he grilled—it’d only be maybe fifteen or twenty minutes and the sun was beginning to set painting the water that deep blue green that was only found in Hawaii as the sky bloomed in red, gold, pink and purple that lit the gauze-like clouds in a glorious show at the end of a long day. 

From the grill, Steve could see Buck with his phone in hand, flicking through it rather than watching the sunset as he sipped at his beer. The line of his shoulders was relaxed but somehow sad. 

Steve had hoped that phone call earlier had settled his brother but it evidently hadn’t.  He really wondered who Buck had been talking to. 

Quickly searing the fish that he’d let marinate, he tossed a fresh pineapple salsa together. Buck didn’t move from where he’d dug his feet into the sand, phone still in hand. 

Deciding they’d eat on the beach, Steve turned off the grill and juggled the salad, salsa, grilled fish in his arms after he stuck two fresh beers into the pockets of his cargo pants along with the cutlery before joining Buck. 

Buck seemed startled when Steve joined him, scrambling to his feet to take the salad from him. “I decided we’d eat out here,” Steve explained before fishing out a fresh beer and offering it to him. 

“Thanks—I meant to help,” he said under his breath before retaking his seat on the sand. 

“No—you came here to rest and recuperate,” Steve insisted. “Besides I’ve been meaning to have you visit.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Buck asked, draining the last bit of his first beer before opening the second.  He took one of the plates Steve had under his arm and the knife and fork. 

Pushing a serving of fish onto Buck’s plate before sitting, Steve shrugged. “Well… I did call it borrowing but it’s mostly just giving you a break.”

“A break from life?” Buck asked, one eyebrow climbing upwards, fork raised to poke at the fish but not yet touching it. 

“If you need it. I know this isn’t going to be what you do forever,” Steve insisted as he took his own portion of the fish and added salsa and a hefty serving of salad to his plate.  “Eat—it’s going to get cold.”

Taking Steve’s urging, Buck speared a bit of fish and bit into it, face screwing up in pleasure. “This is good.”

“Thanks,” Steve said simply, digging into his own food. He took a few bites before asking his next question. “How’d your phone call go earlier?”

Buck’s shoulders hunched a bit more and he avoided Steve’s gaze or answering by taking another bite of salad. “It went fine.”

“Fine?” Steve didn’t get the impression it went fine.  Buck obviously was bothered by something and it was new from this morning. 

Buck took another bite before answering. “It was with Eddie and Christopher.”

“The guy you work with?” Steve prodded.

Buck shot him an exasperated look. “I know you’ve probably got dossiers written already on everyone I work with.”

Steve shrugged.  Buck understood how he worked.  “So?  Tell me about the phone call.”

Buck pushed the remains of his salad around his plate for a moment. “It was good to talk to Christopher.”

“He’s the kid right?”

“Yeah.  He’s the best kid.  You’d love him too if you met him.  Has the best attitude.”

“You sound close.”

Another unamused glance from Buck said he was onto Steve but he willingly answered. “I am—or was?  No I still am.”

Steve didn’t have to ask, Buck kept on talking. “It’s been rough since my accident and the lawsuit messed things up.  I wasn’t… I wasn’t talking to them and just seeing Christopher and even Eddie briefly…I’m missing stuff I should be there for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Eddie’s got a lot going on…”

Steve hesitated knowing that Buck wanted to explain but not wanting to break the moment, listening with both his eyes and ears to what Buck was saying. Buck’s eyes were sad and focused out on the water, his hands curled around fork and plate tightly to show how worried he was. The phone call hadn’t made things better but maybe it had started to break lose the logjam.  Steve was so focused on Buck’s body language that he missed a bit of what Buck said.  

“—And it’s obvious that something happened.  He had these bruises on his face.  It was like… he’d been hit and he knew that if he stayed on the call with me I would have asked so he handed me off to Chris as quick as he could.”  Buck stared pensively out at the water, longboard hanging loosely from his hand as if he’d forgotten it, having placed his food to the side.  The hunch to Buck’s shoulders and the way his spine curled was pure worry and distress which made Steve want to fix it but he wasn’t sure if he would make things better or worse by telling Buck what he’d heard from Hondo about Diaz and the street fight.

Buck kept on talking, eyes sparkling with unshed tears and voice thick. “The worst thing?  He said he owed me an apology—like I hadn’t screwed up.”

“What did you screw up?” Steve asked, wanting to know what was going through the kid’s head so he could understand more. 

Buck was silent for a few heartbeats before he took a swig of his beer then wiped his mouth.  He turned just enough so he was facing Steve, eyes the same color of the ocean at sunset when the light hit it at that low, perfect angle to turn it almost aqua blue. “How much did you look into the lawsuit?  I know you talked to people but how much do you really know about it?”

Steve shrugged. “I know that you were suing your captain and the department—you’d passed all your recerts and the docs had cleared you for full duties. That you turned down the money you would have gotten because your case had merits—they should have let you back to work without suing.”

Buck’s mouth twisted unhappily, gaze becoming flinty as they stared through Steve unseeingly. “Bobby’s… he’s been like my dad since I joined the LAFD.  Sorta like a more father-like version of you but he’s got… baggage.  HIs family died and I think… I almost died twice right in front of him and he was scared because he cares about me.  Still is which is why it’s been so hard.”  Buck looked away back out over the water, lip trembling just a bit before he bit it. 

“He wants to keep you safe?”  Steve prodded gently. He could get where Nash was coming from.  It was difficult as the team leader to send your men—brothers really—into danger but Steve had been doing it most of his adult life.  If he couldn’t do it then he should do everyone a favor and get out of the way because him having feelings about his men didn’t mean there still weren’t going to be terrorist attacks or major crimes in Hawaii.  Innocent lives were at stake and while it was difficult to put the people he knew at risk he still had to trust them to do their duties. 

Steve really, really could understand where Captain Robert Nash had been coming from withholding Buck’s reinstatement. However understanding him didn’t mean he agreed with how he’d handled Buck. 

“I think… I think that’s why?  He recommended that they not reinstate me—it was his recommendation that held me back. The whole reason I sued was because he didn’t tell me it was him.  Like how am I supposed to take that?”  Buck waved his hand with the beer in it at the waves, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “How am I supposed to take that Steve?  Bobby’s like family and he… he did that!”

Steve didn’t know what to tell him. “He shouldn’t have done that,” he finally said. “If you’re responsible for someone like he is you have to pull your personal feelings out of it.”

“I know,” Buck agitatedly took another swig of his beer before repeating himself plaintively. “I know.  Why couldn’t he just have talked to me?  Being told I was going to be on light duty for god knows how long…. It was like I was being cast out as not good enough.”

“I’m sure that’s not what he was doing,” Steve reached out and pulled Buck to him, the younger man slumping into his side despite being bigger and turning his face into Steve’s shoulder, eyes sad as they met Steve’s. 

“Really?”

Steve sighed, tightening his hold on Buck. Danny was so much better at this stuff than him. “I struggled you know—giving you guys orders sometimes when I knew it was going to be bad. Like that time in…. It’s hard. I know I’m putting you in danger and that you’re capable and strong but you—all of you—are my brothers.  We eat together. Sleep together. Keep watch over each other. The navy became my family and you’re my kid brother.”

Buck was silent, pressing more into Steve’s side for comfort. He had to pick the right words to make Buck understand what it was like being the one who made decisions.  Buck had never had to do that—he’d just thrown himself into whatever needed doing but he’d never had to send someone else in.  

“It’s hard to feel like that and not try to stand between you and whatever harm is coming your way.  If I could predict it I’d try to make it as safe as possible but I know that’s not always what I should do.  You’re capable. You’re a badass motherfuckin’ seal as Hondo would put it,” Steve smiled at the memory of Hondo calling them all that the last time they’d had a mission together. 

“I had forgotten about Hondo,” Buck said softly.  “It was good to see him.”

Another squeeze. “I get why your captain wrote the recommendation—that doesn’t mean I agree with him.  And you should look up people you know—Hondo told me he’s always got an open door for you.”

“I know,” Buck looked away. 

“You said that you screwed up—with Eddie?” Steve prodded after a moment. 

Buck pulled away, sitting with his arms draped over bent knees looking so young it made Steve’s heart hurt. “Eddie and I… we’re…. He’s my best friend and I’ve never had one like him—either in the Seals, after I got out or before I joined.  We’re there for each other always and after the accident he was trying to pull me out of the funk I was in.”

“Sounds like a good man.”  The longing in Buck’s voice was palpable and Steve realized that Buck probably didn’t know what he sounded like when he mentioned Eddie. 

“He is—one of the best.  Eddie trusts me and he gave me Christopher to watch because he knows that I won’t—that I can’t let Christopher see me be like I was.  He trusted me with Christopher and that kid is Eddie’s entire world and I… I took him to the pier and then the tsunami hit.”

Steve’s inhale was sharp. He knew this but having Buck tell him all over again made his chest hurt at the sudden tightness.  Steve could have lost Buck and it wasn’t luck that he was still here but some sort of guardian angel must have been watching over him that day. “Danny told me,” he tried to stop Buck from having to repeat the whole story.

“He did?  Of course he did… but you have to understand—Chris is Eddie’s life.  I know my father was shit and everything but Eddie’s not one. He lives and breathes for that kid and I’d do the same. He trusted me with him and I lost him and then the next day….”

“What happened?”  Buck hadn’t told this part of the story.  Steve knew there was something important here that was key to the snarl of problems he’d been caught up in. 

“The next day he brought Christopher back.  He trusted me to watch him again knowing… knowing that I’d lost him in the tsunami. He said…” Buck stumbled on the words before gaining steam, “He said that Christopher didn’t remember it that way. That I’d saved him and that there was nobody else he trusted more with his son than me.”

Steve frowned. “I think I’m missing a few details…”

Buck waved his beer again, this time less agitated this time and more smooth. “You are but the big thing is that Eddie still let me watch Chris again and I needed that. I needed him to trust me and he still did which… I still can’t believe he did.”

“You’re a good man too—Buck.”  Steve needed Buck to believe that.

Buck ignored his comment. “My point is… is that Eddie is a good man and my best friend.  He’s had a bad year—his estranged wife Shannon came back into his and Christopher’s life and then she died right in front of him, Eddie almost died in this well rescue that went bad and then I almost got Christopher killed in a tsunami.”

“That does sound like bad luck…” Steve knew there were details Buck was glossing over but the emotion in his voice was wrecked. Both Eddie and Buck had had a rough year. 

“It’s terrible luck but… but Eddie was the only one who really kept reaching out to me through the whole leg injury. Maddie…”

“Your sister?  What does she have to do with this?”

“She doesn’t really,” Buck deflected. “She’s had a tough year too with leaving Doug and Chimney getting stabbed and—“

“Yeah but what was she doing when you were struggling?  She’s your sister.”  Just what had been happening in LA?  If Buck ever went home again Steve was going to have to keep a much closer eye on him.  Stabbings?  Tsunamis?  The hell.. Chin better have that report on Doug Kendall tomorrow. 

Buck shrugged, eyes dimming. “She was supportive but I don’t think she really understands how I’m feeling.  She’s been gone for so long and she wants it to be like we were when we were younger and I try to—“

“Okay stop.  So Maddie was—is—slightly helpful but Eddie was the one there for you?”

“Yeah.”

“So what happened? You keep saying that he doesn’t owe you an apology but you owe him one?”

“Kinda?  I mean…after the tsunami Christopher had been having all these nightmares of being stuck in the water.  At first I was like… he’d ask for me and Eddie would call me. He was always so worried waking me up in the middle of the night but it wasn’t like I was sleeping good anyways so—“

“Wait. Back up.  You weren’t sleeping?  Did you see anyone after all of this?”

“Well no.  The last time I went to therapy it didn’t… I don’t want to do that again.”  Buck wouldn’t meet his eyes, jaw clenched and his fingers flexed across his knees. 

The bottom of Steve’s stomach dropped out on him—what else could have happened to Buck to make him look so painfully uncomfortable?  “Do what again?”  The agonizing look Buck gave him set off alarms in Steve’s head as he watched Buck almost fold himself into half as he tried to make himself smaller. “Buck—what happened at therapy?”

“I slept with my therapist,” he whispered, eyes downcast as his chin dug into his chest, fingers tightening around the beer bottle as his arms tightened around his knees. 

“What?”  Steve was outraged. What kind of therapist would…

“She said that she would clear me to go back to work if I did.  She’d looked me up on social media and—“

“No.  Whatever she did was wrong.  You know that right?”  Steve was about to fly to LA, find this therapist and give her a piece of his mind and maybe put the fear of god into her. Buck didn’t say yes or nod.  “Buck—Evan.  Did you tell anyone about this?  That your therapist made you sleep with her?”

“I just wanted to go back to work,” he said in a small voice.  “She was pretty and she wanted me so I did it.  I just wanted to go ba-back to wo-work.”

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the right thing but he pulled Buck back to him, fully wrapping himself around him. Buck was shaking and kept repeating, “I just wanted to go back to work,” and it was breaking Steve’s heart. He no longer wanted to just talk to this therapist—shooting her would be too kind and Steve had been trained in other methods of information gathering that were painful and would be more satisfying.  “I’ve got you,” he kept repeating, trying to soothe Buck who now was crying, hands running up and down his spine in a soothing motion. 

It took a while for Buck to cry himself out and Steve could do nothing except hold him.  The entire time he mentally was making a plan for how he was going to take care of this.  Danny had said Buck needed therapy but Steve didn’t think Buck would trust a traditional therapist after what had happened with his last one. 

Telling Buck to get over it or some such stupid thing wasn’t what he was going to do but how did you help your kid brother who’d had his choices taken away from him?  Vengeance would be easy but how did you put Buck back together again?

“Steve?” Buck’s voice was hoarse from crying. 

“Yeah?”  

“I just want to talk to Eddie again.  Like we used to. I want my… partner back.”

Steve swallowed.  He still didn’t have the details about what exactly had happened but he knew what it would feel like if he couldn’t talk to Danno and Eddie was Buck’s Danno.  There had been so much that had happened to Buck and been done to him that to unravel it all in one conversation wasn’t going to be possible. “Do you want me to…”

“No,” Buck interrupted, voice calm. “I think… I think Eddie and I need to figure this out between us.  He’s… he messaged me asking for Chris.”

“I thought you looked better after talking to his son.”  Which was true but then he’d sat on the beach and Steve’s worry had him picking at Buck’s scabs making them bleed all over again. 

Buck frowned. “It’s always good to talk to Christopher. He’s… he said that he tried to feel sorry for himself one day and it didn’t fix anything so he doesn’t do it any more. I wish I could do that…”

Steve smiled sadly at Buck.  “Sounds like he’s a great kid.”

“He is.  He’s the best—him and his Dad.  They’re…. The lawsuit made me not talk to them because I was suing the department and the lawyers got involved and then it was just silence between us.”

There it was—the reason Eddie Diaz had stopped talking to Buck. Steve’s immediate reaction was to blame Buck’s captain for this whole mess but he knew that he was being uncharitable—both Buck and Eddie could have ignored the lawyers’ advice. “And after the lawsuit?”

Buck’s lower lip trembled.  “After I think we’d forgotten how to talk to each other.  I wanted… I wanted to just go back to how it was but I…I left Eddie alone.  Just like Shannon did and I know how much that hurt him.  I hurt him and I knew I had and I tried to just ignore it like we could just go back to being Eddie and Buck…”

“Eddie and Buck?”

The shrug was barely there. “Something the rest of the 118 says—that we’re a pair.  BuckandEddie or EddieandBuck.  Attached at the hip since the first day.  Something happened when we weren’t talking and I… I think Eddie blames me for it.”

“Are you sure?”

Buck sniffled. “No.  I mean… I think I want it to be that but he probably doesn’t. Eddie forgives people better than anyone I know.  I mean he forgave Shannon for leaving him and I… I don’t know that I did.”

“You didn’t forgive—Shannon’s his estranged wife right?  Why would you need to forgive her?”  Steve tried to recall who Shannon was then felt terrible when he remembered that she’d died. 

Buck, however, was oblivious to Steve’s mistake and kept on talking. “She… she twisted Eddie up so much. He wanted to do the right thing for Christopher and what kid should be without their mom?  Eddie wanted to let her back in but he was worried that she’d leave again and then she did—permanently.   She died just weeks before my accident and Eddie was so stressed with funeral plans and everything and… he was hurting.  She hurt him again despite him forgiving her.”

Eddie’s situation was hitting a bit too close to home for Steve.  His own relationship with his mother was fraught with pain and abandonment.  His father had never been the same after his mom had faked her death—had thought she’d been dead and sent Steve and his sister Mary away to protect them after thinking that it’d been his fault that Doris had died in a car bombing.  There were some days Steve wondered why his Mom had never tried to let Dad know she was still alive. It’d been twenty years that John McGarrett had lived with the pain of thinking he’d caused his wife’s death. 

Steve would have given anything for a long time to have his mom still alive and finding out she’d been in hiding for so many years hadn’t done good things to his psyche. He was still struggling with his father’s death and it’d been almost five years and that death had happened because of Steve’s mission. If he hadn’t let Anton die maybe…

For Eddie to forgive as Buck said… maybe Steve could learn something from Buck’s Eddie. “If you say Eddie has the capacity to forgive his wife for leaving him… perhaps he has the ability to also forgive you Evan… and maybe he seeks the same forgiveness from you.”

Buck stilled as if frozen, his eyes icy blue in the twilight since the sun had fully set. “He would do that.  Eddie would.”

“Forgiveness—real forgiveness is hard in my experience.  It’s even harder to ask for when you don’t think you deserve it.”

Buck’s forehead wrinkled in thought.  “I… I’ll message him. He seemed much more comfortable with that then talking to me over FaceTime.”

“It’s a start,” Steve encouraged knowing Buck needed it.  

The small smile that Buck sent him in response was sad but Steve liked to think it had some strength to it.  Buck was going to be okay—Danny would help Steve with it and he’d figure out someone Buck could talk to about the whole therapist thing tomorrow. Maybe Mamo would have some suggestions. 

They sat out on the beach until late, long after the beers had been drank. When Buck’s head began to nod, Steve guided him up and back to the house, tucking him into bed after Buck had sent his message to Eddie that he didn’t reveal to Steve.

Steve left the door open so he could hear if Buck needed him in the night before retreating to his own room. 

He wished Danny had stayed over tonight instead of heading home with his kids, afraid he’d overwhelmed Buck with their talk.  Steve had the feeling that Buck would appreciate having Grace and Charlie around… and he wanted desperately to talk to Danny but it’d have to wait.  It was too late and… 

Well he’d just keep an ear out for Buck.  

He could do that tonight at least. Stand guard against his little brother’s nightmares. 

***

The next morning—really only about four hours later given the sun was still over an hour away from rising, Buck stumbled into the kitchen bleary eyed as Steve made scrambled eggs. “Mornin’,” Steve greeted him.

“You didn’t get me up for our swim,” Buck hiked himself up on the counter exactly like Danny was wont to do and Steve found himself smiling. 

“You needed the sleep.”

Buck was silent a moment, eyes focused firmly on the floor. “Do you think less of me?”

Turning the burner off, Steve began plating the eggs. “No.”

“You said that… that you understood why Bobby benched me.”

“Understand it yes.”

“But?”

Steve sighed, dumping the now empty pan in the sink. “I’ve lost men before.”

“Freddie,” Buck interjected with a nod, face sad.

“Yes Freddie.  And I had to let others go work with other team leaders or commands that weren’t me and I struggled with it every time one of you so much as bumped your head or scraped a knee and I wasn’t there.”

“I sense there’s another but here…”

“But I know I have to let you do it.  All joking aside you are like my kid brother.  Freddie was my best friend and he’d come back and haunt me if I ever let something happen to you and I could have prevented it.”

“Again—but?”

“The key word there is prevented it. I get why your captain-who you refer to as almost like a father to you and I’m assuming he feels the same—did it. I get it but I hope I’d never do it to you but if you almost died in front of me and then I thought by keeping you on light duties for a few more weeks or month might be best?  I might have done it.”

“So Bobby was right.”

“No.  That’s not what I’m saying.”  It wasn’t at all what he was saying. 

“Then what are you saying?”

“He should have sat down and talked with you before making that recommendation.  I don’t like that he kept it from you—knowing you as I do.”

Buck’s frown deepened into a scowl. “I was so angry—why wouldn’t he have just told me?  Instead I felt like I’d been thrown away. Unworthy.”

“You’re not.  Not any of those things,” Steve interrupted before Buck could gain steam. 

“I’m not.” Buck said it like he was trying the words out—not as if he fully believed them quite yet. 

“Anger is fine.  Be angry all you want….”

“But?”

“What do you want to do now?”

Buck’s expression melted into slack neutrality, gaze inward. “What do I want?”

“Do you want to go back?  Do you want to stay here?  Do you want Eddie?”

Buck’s head went up sharply at the last question. “What do you mean?  Do I want Eddie?”

“It seems to me that answering what you want to do with Eddie will answer the other questions.”  Steve winced as he said it. Danny was going to have a field day with him going on about having the emotional intelligence of a rock. 

While he’d been internally berating himself for asking the question, Buck was in thought and he surprisingly answered Steve—rather quickly even. “You’re right.  If… if I can go back to working with my best friend that’s what I want.”

“Did Eddie reply to your message?”

“He read it.  No reply.”

“He will,” Steve promised, putting Buck’s plate in front of him and handing him a fork. 

Eddie would respond or he’d send Hondo out to shake the man until he did. 

Buck’s phone dinged with a text alert.  Maybe Steve wouldn’t need to do anything to get Eddie and Buck talking.  

***

And how many subplots you got swimmin’ through that mind?

Scream for sympathy or sing the blues

Run from your shadows or relax in their shade

Which road you gonna choose?

We’ve all got places to be

We’ve all got things to do

We’ve all got this moment, it’s ours to lose

 

Eddie

Waking up the next morning, Eddie had a headache from mostly not sleeping—he’d finally managed a few interrupted hours but it hadn’t been restful.  He couldn’t stop going over and over the expression on Buck’s face when he’d seen his or stop hearing in Buck’s voice the text message he’d received in the middle of the night:  Are you okay?

The answer was no—Eddie wasn’t okay. 

He missed Buck so much it felt like he was missing a limb. That conversation with Frank and then listening to Buck talk to Chris… it was just so much. Frank asking about his methods of coping had just ripped off the bandaid and made him realize what his actual problem was—he was missing his best friend and partner.  

Part of it was Eddie’s fault. 

He should have ignored it when they’d been advised not to contact Buck through the whole lawsuit fiasco.  If he’d listened to his gut instead of following instructions maybe they wouldn’t have… he wouldn’t have gotten so angry and pushed Buck away when they finally were officially allowed to talk.  He’d been a coward and he’d let others make him leave Buck alone when he’d been hurting. Eddie had hurt him and the realization that he’d done so stung sharply. 

No wonder Shannon had left him.  He hadn’t ever missed her this much even on deployments when he’d gone months without any sort of affectionate touch and he’d begun wondering if touch starvation was an actual thing. 

Eddie’d been a terrible husband and just as bad of a friend to Buck.  He couldn’t blame Buck for needing some time away…

He hadn’t wanted to look to closely at it before but last night it was all he could think of instead of sleeping. Somehow he’d started thinking of Buck a lot like how he’d once thought of Shannon and he didn’t quite know what to do with that. 

Buck was his best friend.  The best friend he’d ever had.  Buck was so selfless and giving and despite the slightly rocky first day they’d just clicked into each other’s lives like they’d been there the entire time. Eddie’d never had someone like this before—not even with Shannon. Buck was his partner… which yeah. His brain had made some connections that he hadn’t even realized were there beneath the surface. 

There was also the unwelcome realization that his thoughts about Buck were not wholly platonic best-friend thoughts.  Buck was built and it wasn’t competitive or friendly teasing that made Eddie look at him.  The stirring in his gut was arousal—he found Buck sexually attractive. 

Eddie didn’t have time for a sexuality crisis on top of everything else.  

He really, really didn’t.

However hard he tried to purge those thoughts from his brain they unfortunately kept sneaking back in.  Like how Buck’s hands helped coil the hoses and the way his entire hand could cup around Eddie’s bicep when they hugged or even just the casual touches as they moved past one another, firm bodies brushing against each other like a cat to mark their territory and making Eddie’s body shiver in want. The way Buck’s lips were just so pink and plump from his habit of biting the lower one when he was thinking and Eddie knew that they’d taste so good and how they’d look when…

Okay he had to stop this. This was not happening. He couldn’t start thinking of Buck that way—about how Buck might look post orgasm in Eddie’s bed or how mussed he looked when first waking in the morning at the station when they’d actually gotten a few hours of sleep and how that would translate to being in Eddie’s bed after having slept all night wrapped around each other... 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

Fuck. 

He was truly fucked. 

Buck was his friend. Only his friend and work partner—and Eddie hadn’t been doing too well with even that as of late. 

Eddie was a terrible friend and partner. Work partner. His mental self-correction didn’t want to stick and his thoughts kept turning over the word partner. 

He should reply to Buck’s text. Not replying was a dick move. He needed to communicate better—that was something that was mentally healthier right?  Not talking had caused all these problems. 

Answering Buck truthfully though was a problem.  

If he told Buck he wasn’t okay then Buck would do what he always did.  He’d worry. He’d try to fix it and make Eddie feel better. Because that was the kind of person Buck was. Giving. Generous. So loving that it didn’t matter if it hurt him as long as Eddie or Abby or whoever had hurt him was okay. 

Which Eddie wanted but wasn’t sure he should let Buck do for him.  Especially if helping Eddie hurt him which wasn’t what Eddie wanted. He’d already hurt Buck and he wasn’t going to make it worse or do it again now that he thought about how much he’d hurt his best friend. 

Eddie was a shitty friend.  

He had to do better. He’d have to box up these thoughts and forget about them for Buck’s sake.  Figure out how to be the friend that Buck deserved and be that for him. They needed to regain that equilibrium, that back and forth that was just them. He couldn’t hurt Buck again on purpose because Buck didn’t deserve that. 

He’d be a good friend. The best friend. Eddie could be there for Buck—would be there for him. 

Picking up his phone he took a deep breath as he opened up his text messages and selected Buck’s name. 

What to say?

He typed in ‘I’m okay’ but didn’t hit send. 

Eddie wasn’t okay.  He wasn’t okay and he didn’t—hadn’t—lied to Buck before and he just… 

He couldn’t lie to Buck… but he didn’t want to worry him.

Eddie deleted the unsent message and took a deep breath. I messed up but I’m going to be okay. He hit send before he could rethink it. Truthful and taking responsibility for the mess he’d made while attempting to temper the worry he’d caused when Buck had laid eyes on him.  The little ‘delivered’ notification showed up and as he was watching it changed to ‘read’.

Three little dots immediately followed to indicate that Buck was typing something. They disappeared and then reappeared like Buck had typed something then deleted it then was retyping. 

Eddie couldn’t sit on the edge of his bed—he was too anxious. It did occur to him that it was still the middle of the night if Buck was in Hawai’i…. Which a quick glance at his phone told him there was a three hour time difference. 

Buck should be asleep. 

Eddie had woken him up and he knew Buck hadn’t been sleeping well because he’d…

The silent vibration notification of a new text message made his thoughts stumble to a halt.

What happened?

Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Eddie watched as the three dots appeared and disappeared again before another message came through. 

I know you don’t have to tell me but I’m

I hope you are okay now. Sorry—don’t mean to be pushy,

Buck must have sent the first message by accident instead of editing it. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he began hesitantly typing out a response.  The house was quiet around him—he had another fifteen or so minutes before getting Chris up for school as it was a late start today.  He’d let Chris sleep in after he’d woken up twice last night. 

You’re not being pushy. I got in a fight—which was stupid of me. I’ll be okay. 

A fight?  At work? 

Eddie sighed, shoulders slumping. No.  

The dots appeared and disappeared—Buck was probably trying to think if he should ask or not.  

Eddie kind of wanted him to ask. Wanted Buck physically here so they could talk but then again Buck wasn’t here and Eddie was part of the reason for that. 

I got introduced to a fight club.  The money was good and I was stupid.  Nothing really more to say.   Staring at the text, he hit send and curled forward over his knees. Now Buck knew how stupid he’d been and, while he was ashamed, he felt relief at coming clean about it. 

That’s why you got the new truck.  I thought it was weird since you don’t spend money like that.

Eddie snorted. Yeah. I suppose things are going to be tight for a bit but I’ll figure it out. 

There was no immediate reply from Buck—which Eddie supposed was fair.  After a minute the dots reappeared.

How badly hurt are you?

His hands tightened around his phone and he could only stare at the purple and red marks over his bruised and swollen hands that hurt at the action. That guy that had come to the 118 was right—he should have taped his hands. He contemplated for a brief second downplaying his injuries but immediately shook his head at the idea. Eddie would tell Buck the truth—communicate. 

It mostly just looks bad. Bruised up but nothing’s broken.  I’ll be fine in a few days. 

Buck must have been very worried. Did you get checked out by a doctor? X-rayed?  It really didn’t look good on my screen the brief look I got of you. 

Pursing his lips, Eddie tried not to be offended. Buck I took care of much worse injuries than this and I know what I’m talking about.  I’m fine.

The phone rang in his hand, displaying the contact picture for Buck.  It was a picture he’d taken of Buck and Christopher at the zoo pretending to be monkeys in front of the chimp exhibit. They both had such huge smiles on their faces… it’d been a great day that day. 

So lost in the memory of the zoo trip, he’d almost let the call go through to voicemail.  Fumbling slightly, he hit accept. “Buck?”

“Are you really okay?”  Buck’s voice cracked a bit across the distance. 

Sighing, Eddie closed his eyes.  He could pretend Buck was here if he couldn’t see him.  “I’ll be okay Buck.  I promise.”

“Okay,” Buck said, the sound of his breathing coming across the distance. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure—really Buck.”  He tried to put as much certainty into his voice as possible.  Dios Eddie missed Buck like a limb. 

There was a pause. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?  I think I’m the one who owes you an apology.”  Buck didn’t have anything to apologize for in his mind.  He’d been the one to screw up and not support his best friend when he’d been struggling with being injured. 

“Why?”  Buck’s voice went a bit high in disbelief before he began speaking rapidly, almost tripping over his words. “Don’t Eddie. I told Mackey about Shannon and—“

Eddie cut him off before Buck could really get going. “Buck I get it. I… if you need to hear me say it then I forgive you.  I was… I was angry but I’m not anymore.”

“You’re not?”  The smallness to Buck’s voice made Eddie want to wrap his arms around Buck.  Buck’s sense of self worth could be terrible at any given moment and Eddie had just made it even worse by not talking to him.  He’d screwed up so much and he’d accused Buck of not thinking of anyone else—Buck who always put everyone else before his own needs to the point that he often got hurt because of it. 

Being angry at Buck, in retrospect, had been a terrible thing to do to Buck. Eddie knew how much it had hurt Buck and the regret he felt swamped him.  He needed to fix this. 

“I was angry because I couldn’t talk to you,” Eddie confessed, voice going soft. “I just… I reacted badly and took it out on you which… wasn’t the right thing to do.  I should have… I should have talked to you and ignored what the union rep told us.”

“I wasn’t there for you or Christopher.”  

Buck’s voice was rough, the transmission across the distance making it sound like he might be crying and Eddie bit his lip.  He was making Buck cry and that wasn’t what he wanted. He was such a screw up. Find your words he angrily told himself.  “That… I could have ignored the advice and I didn’t. I cut you off Buck before any of that happened.  I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me for what I did.”

That was definitely a sniffle he heard and it sounded like someone else in the background asked Buck a question that Eddie couldn’t understand.  

A male voice. 

At this time of day?  It was so early in Hawai’i… who was Buck with?

Eddie’s hackles began rising along with his jealousy but it was cut off when Buck spoke. 

“There’s nothing for me to forgive you for if you forgive me in exchange.”

“So we both forgive each other?” Eddie asked, chewing on his inner lip and trying not to desperately ask who Buck was with, imagination still running wild. 

“Yeah.”  The roughness of Buck’s voice soothed his nerves, calming him. 

“I miss you,” the confession slipped out before he could stop it. “I’ve missed my best friend—you—every day.  I’m sorry I… I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“No—I miss you too,” Buck was quick to agree. “I should have said something but I forgot to think about—“

“No.  I forgive you Evan.  It doesn’t matter.  We both… we both screwed up.”

“So we start over?”  Buck asked, hesitant.

Eddie paused.  Start over?  No.  That wasn’t quite right.  “I think we go back to being us—partners.”

He’d used that word again. Partners. Buck was his partner. Using another term just wasn’t right. Best friend—yes of course but he was Eddie’s partner.

“Partners?”  Buck sounded like he was trying out the word, rolling it around his tongue. 

“Partners,” Eddie repeated, putting emphasis into it.  “You’re my partner Buck.  I’ll always have your back if you’ll have mine.”

Buck let loose a sharp bark of laughter. “Yeah… you can always have my back Eds.  I’ll always have yours.”

Eddie found himself smiling into his phone, a weight lifted off his shoulders. Whatever else he’d screwed up he should have remembered that Buck would always have his back if he let him. He wouldn’t’ shut him out again.

For a moment, they both just listened to each other breathe, connected despite the physical distance. 

“Are you okay?” finally Eddie asked.

Buck’s laugh was a bit lighter this time. “I’m… I think I’m getting there.”

“I know what you mean,” he said.  “It’s been… it’s been a while.”

“Yeah.  Do you ever… ever wish you’d done things different?”

“All the time… but I know that all I need is to know you’ve got my back and I’ll keep on trying.  Trying for you and Christopher.”  Eddie almost bit his tongue as the truth slipped out of him.  The silence over the line was terrifying as his heart started to thunder in his ears.  Had he screwed up again?

“Me too,” Buck said softly and Eddie could start breathing again. 

“But you’re safe wherever you are?”  Eddie asked again, not daring to say Hawai’i as that had been said to Christopher not him.

“I’m in Hawai’i,” Buck admitted, saying Hawai’i like it was something private to be shared only between them as he continued, “I’m with an old friend.  I just… needed space to get my head back on straight.”

Eddie made a noise of agreement. “I get it.  You getting enough sleep?  It’s early there.”

Buck’s laugh was light. “Everyone thinks I’m not sleeping enough,” he grumbled. 

Looking at the clock, Christopher’s alarm was going to go off in two minutes. “What’s the time difference there?” He asked as if he didn’t already know. 

“Three hours… but it’s an old navy friend and he still keeps navy hours.  If anything I slept in today.”

“Slept in? Eddie asked incredulously. 

“Yeah.  Nothing like predawn swims in the pacific. Takes me right back to BUDS.”

Eddie’s ears perked up at the mention of the seal training course—he remembered Chimney mentioning that Buck had washed out of it… but had Buck actually said it or was he just remembering what Chimney had told him? “I thought… you said you quit before you finished.  Wouldn’t think you’d like the reminder.”  Especially after the tsunami—Buck had been shy about anything involving a beach ever since. 

Buck was silent for a few heartbeats. “I didn’t… I didn’t ring the bell Eddie.  I did my whole contract as a member of a seal team.”

“Wow…” Eddie paced, trying not to imagine Buck as an SF operator but his imagination gave him very vivid mental pictures of a thinner, much younger Buck armed for bear wearing desert camo.  There’d been a lot of seals deployed to Afghanistan with him and he’d treated a bunch of them for everything from a minor injuries up to major traumas—the thought of having crossed paths with Buck and not having noticed his best friend bothered him.  He’d like to think he’d never have not noticed Buck. “Does… do the rest of the 118 know?”

“No—I… I was trying to be a normal civilian when I joined the fire academy so I just don’t mention it or make it sound like I quit during training.”

“I get it,” Eddie muttered.  He did get it.  He didn’t like the attention his own silver star brought.  Being a navy seal was an order of magnitude more exciting to gossip about rather than just being an army medic.  He got why Buck didn’t talk about it—Buck may appear to be all proud peacock about things but he really hid more than he revealed if you really knew him.  Eddie knew what it was like to want to hide the parts of yourself that were maybe less than perfect or that hurt. “So this old friend?”

“My old CO.  He’s… he is a good friend.”

“He showing you around?”  Maybe that was the voice Eddie had heard in the background. 

Buck snorted. “He’s making me work.”

“Work?” Eddie asked just as the alarm went off and he swiftly silenced it. 

“Yeah work—is that Chris’ alarm?” 

“Yeah.  Time to get him up,” Eddie admitted. He didn’t want to stop talking to Buck but he did need to get Chris up for school. 

“He sleep all night? No nightmares?”

“For once.  Thank you for talking to him yesterday.”

“Anytime,” Buck insisted. “I’m serious Eddie. No matter where I am or what time of day if Chris needs me you call me.”

“I will,” he promised—and meant it. “Doesn’t mean I can’t say thank you for helping take care of him.”

“Always—now go get Superman up.”

“Sure squid.”

“Aw… now don’t go calling me that Soldier,” Buck protested but Eddie could hear the smile in his voice along with the tease. it was telling that Buck didn’t have any derogatory nickname to call him out on for being army. 

“Fine.  Call me tonight?”  Eddie asked before he could stop himself. 

“You want me to?”  

“Yeah.”

“Call early enough so I can talk to Chris too? FaceTime?”

“I’ll text you when we’re home and available.”  He was smiling so hard his face hurt from the stretch of his bruises. 

“Later,” Buck said, not hanging up.

“Later,” Eddie had to bite his tongue not to add on something he would regret later. “Stay safe,” he whispered.

“Always.  You too.”

Reluctantly, Eddie hung up and sighed.  His chest felt lighter, not as tight despite his sore ribs. Just talking with Buck… he’d needed it so bad. 

He wouldn’t screw this up he promised himself as he headed into Chris’ room to wake him for the day.

***

The rest of the day he spent catching up on little chores and things that had been on his to-do list for seemingly forever including fixing that loose hinge on the door between the kitchen and living room so it actually would fully close now.  He’d also caught a nap during the afternoon and he’d slept peacefully for once without any dark thoughts filtering in.  His body needed time to heal but he wasn’t one who did well just sitting around. 

Mostly he tried to keep himself from just spinning his wheels with all the unexpected down time. 

There was a un unexpected knock on the door just after he’d gotten home from picking up Chris, Eddie was surprised to see Deacon on his doorstep.  He was out of uniform in just jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt that had the logo for the LAPD Run to Remember half-marathon on it. “Did I forget something? Eddie asked with a frown, reaching for his phone to check it. 

“No,” Deacon looked a bit sheepish.  “I know you’re off work for a bit but I was wondering if you and your son wanted to have dinner with my family tonight.”

“And you drove all the way over here to ask?”  Eddie’s eyebrows rose. 

“I wanted to check on how you were doing in person anyways and I don’t live too far away,” Deacon rubbed the back of his head before crossing his arms over his chest. “You can say no but I promised that I’d check in on you.”

“Who’d you promise?” Eddie was curious just who was Deacon having to report on him to. He was also curious if the other man would tell him or not. 

“Hondo.  Your captain—Bobby. And Commander McGarrett wanted to be kept updated on you.  I want you to know who’s asking,” Deacon added.  “I don’t believe in keeping people in the dark about things.”

“McGarrett?”  Eddie was already filing the name away as someone he didn’t recognize. “He’s your friend’s former CO.”  

Eddie paused.  That was Buck’s former CO’s name?  He still had a few friends that he could see if they knew a navy McGarrett.   Looking at Deacon, he tried to figure out what the police Sargent knew about Buck.  He decided to play dumb for a bit to see what other details he could get—he was curious about the man Buck was hanging out with. 

“Bobby’s our captain.  Buck hasn’t been a firefighter that much longer than me.  The only other CO I know about is Chimney and that was just temporary.”

“His CO from the Seals,” Deacon clarified reluctantly.  Well at least he now had a name to google later and pass around his old unit contacts.  He was sure there wouldn’t be much—seals were notoriously picky about keeping their names out of things like the news. 

“Buck told me he washed out of the Seals.”  Eddie repeated the false information he’d had corrected by Buck this morning. 

Deacon’s eyebrows had both risen, mouth slightly open before he closed it.  “Ah no.  Your friend was in the Seals for a few years.  Did some joint exercises with Hondo to my understanding.”  Eddie just stared at Deacon, processing the information before Deacon added, “Hondo was a marine.  Got out fully about three years ago but was a reservist for almost a decade and active duty before that.”

“Buck was a Seal. For a few years?”

“You didn’t know?” Deacon prodded perhaps sensing that Eddie knew more than he was giving away. 

“I knew he’d been in training… not how long he’d been in.  He doesn’t talk about it.”  It occurred to Eddie that he’d probably met McGarrett..that guy who’d been with Hondo at the 118... “McGarrett… about my height—older than me with tattoos on both arms?  Was he here before Buck left?”

Deacon nodded.  “That’s him. You met?”

“Briefly.”  McGarrett had the swagger.  He moved like a SOF operator and he’d made that comment about his hands… He was Buck’s old CO?  “Did… Did Buck go with him?”

Shifting his weight, Deacon let his arms fall and his mouth twisted at the corners unhappily. “I’ve been told that unless Buck contacts you I can’t share those details.”

“I know Buck’s in Hawai’i.  He told Chris—my son—last night.”

Deacon’s head cocked to the side. “You’ve talked to Buck?”

Realizing they were having this conversation in view of his neighbors, Eddie opened the door fully and gestured for Deacon to come inside. “Yeah.  Last night and this morning.”

“That’s good, right?”

Eddie shrugged as he led Deacon through the living room and into the kitchen, ignoring the question. He wasn’t sure if it qualified as good but he had felt better since talking to Buck.  Christopher looked up from his homework which he’d opened at the table so Eddie leaned over and pressed a kiss to his head while giving him a hug before walking to the fridge.  “Deacon Kay—this is my son Christopher. Do you want something to drink?”

“Hi Christopher,” Deacon said with a smile.  Chris peaked up over his glasses at Deacon, taking him all in but did say hi back. “I’ll take something—what do you have?”

Eddie opened his fridge and ran down the options before handing Deacon a glass of water when he opted for it. Deacon leaned back against the counter, looking between Eddie and Chris with a raised eyebrow. 

“Chris, how do you feel about meeting Deacon’s family for supper tonight?”

Looking at Deacon, Chris did the same head tilt that Buck liked to do when he was trying to figure out what Eddie wanted. Seeing Chris do it made his chest tight just for a moment and his bruised ribs protested. “How do you know my Dad?”

“I’m a police officer,” Deacon said gently. 

“You work with Aunt Athena?  Dad?”

“Sometimes,” Deacon glossed over things. “I work with SWAT.  Do you know what that is?”

Chris’ face screwed up in thought, again looking like Buck when he was really trying to remember some random thought to win an argument. “No?”

“It’s a special type of police officer.  My team goes in when things get dangerous.”

“Like Dad?”

“I sometimes work with firefighters.  We back each other up.”

“Like Dad and Buck do each other?”

“Yes.  Just like that.”

Chris looked down at his homework for a moment before looking back at Deacon.  “What are you making for dinner?” He asked as if this was the most important question.

“My wife Annie is cooking—she’s making her famous fried chicken.”

“Is it any good?” Chris asked, very seriously. 

Laughing, Deacon ducked his head.  “I think it’s pretty good and so do my kids.”

“You have kids?”

“Four.  Lila is a year or two older than you but Matt is about your age.  Sam is five and Victoria is nine months.”  This was all new information to Eddie and he mentally adjusted his image of Deacon a bit. The man was at ease talking with Chris and it showed he had kids of his own and liked kids. 

Chris looked at Eddie, seemingly looking for input from him. “Sounds like fun right?” 

Nodding with seriousness, Chris began pushing his homework away.  “Even though it’s a school night?”

“Even though it’s a school night.  We just won’t stay out too late.  I have something for you later. “

Both Chris and Deacon looked at him in curiosity. “What kind of surprise?” Deacon asked.

“Just a nice little way to end the day,” Eddie demurred. For some reason he just didn’t want Deacon scrutinizing his talking with Buck.  He’d promised Buck he’d text when they were available and it was still too early in Hawai’i for Eddie to call him. He’d aim for right before Chris’ bedtime—that way Buck could help with story time and then maybe they’d have time to talk again after Chris was asleep. 

Taking his response in stride, Deacon asked him if he wanted to follow him in his truck but also gave Eddie his address.  It took longer than it really should have to get Chris ready to go but fifteen minutes later they were in the truck and headed for the SWAT officer’s house.   

Deacon lived in a nice subdivision actually not too far from Athena and Bobby.  It was a two story house with a decent sized backyard and a small pool.  Parking in the driveway, Eddie freed Christopher from the backseat and was ushered inside by Deacon. 

Noise instantly hit them as they crossed the threshold. “Hey!” Deacon called out and there was the thunder of multiple sets of small feet coming down the hallway to jump on him as his kids greeted his return. “We’ve got guests,” Deacon tried to calm down his offspring but it was futile and Eddie could feel the corners of his mouth twitching upward.  Chris, meanwhile, leaned into him for support as he was unsure of the new kids. 

“Everyone,” Deacon said loudly, “this is Christopher and his dad Eddie. Guys this is Lila, Matt and Sam.  Victoria is probably with Annie.”

Chris shyly greeted the other three kids who released their grip on their father to look awkwardly at them. 

They were in a standoff until Deacon visibly nudged Matt who stumbled slightly but took the hint.  “Want to play legos before supper?” He asked Chris.

“What kind?” Chris asked, voice soft.

This was the right question to ask because Matt lit up with excitement.  Soon he was babbling at Chris about different sets he had and pulling Chris towards the back of the house with Sam in tow. Lila followed them after quietly greeting Eddie. 

Smiling after his kids, Deacon shrugged. “She’s my quiet one.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Eddie insisted.  He’d been the quiet one in the family and sometimes it was just so loud. 

Deacon showed him to the kitchen where a lovely light haired woman was preoccupied cooking, her long hair pulled back in a low knot, she accepted a brief kiss from Deacon before smiling at Eddie.  The movement of her head revealed a curved scar that cut through her hair which was shorn shorter around the still pink scar that showed it was a recent acquisition “You must be Eddie.”

“I am.  Annie right?” He held out his hand to shake but she ignored it and instead pulled him into a hug, tucking at just the right height to give the best kind of hug that was comforting as well as welcoming. 

“Sorry I’m a hugger,” she apologized before letting him go with a light squeeze.  “David said you need a night off.”

“Off?” Eddie asked, looking to Deacon to explain. He was also confused by who David was.

Seeing Eddie’s confusion, Deacon explained. “My full name is David.  Here at home I’m David but it’s Deacon at work.”

“Ah.”

“Where’s Victoria?” Deacon asked his wife.

Gesturing towards the far side of the kitchen island, Eddie saw a car carrier for infants.  “She’s been out for an hour.  She’ll probably sleep through us eating,” Annie said as she opened the oven to take a peek. The smell of cooking chicken wafted from the open door.  

“I thought you said fried chicken,” Eddie joked with Deacon.

Annie rolled her eyes at her husband.  “Baked tonight.”

“Do you need any help?” Eddie offered, unsure what else to do and not wanting to be awkward or in the way.

“No.  Why don’t you let David show you the house?”

Knowing he was being dismissed so she wouldn’t be tripping over him, Eddie followed Deacon as he gave him a brief tour of their home.  It was nice and comfortable—a true family home that appeared lived in with discarded shoes by the door and a pile of book bags dumped on the mud room bench. Somehow it was reassuring to see how normal Deacon’s house was.  

Retreating to the backyard so they could watch the kids play, Eddie took the beer Deacon offered him.  “Do you always do that?” Eddie asked.

“Do what?” Deacon twisted the cap off his own beer. 

“Separate work and home.”

Deacon was silent for a minute and the only noise was of the kids noisily chasing each other in the backyard. Hopefully Christopher wouldn’t be too tired to talk to Buck. 

“I think sometimes it’s an illusion—one that helps but… everything is still here with me.”  Deacon was watching the kids but not really, looking past them to something only he could see. “The job has good days and bad.  Most days I get to stop the bad guys and the good guys win.”

“Other days?” Eddie prompted, sensing there was more. 

“Other days I’m not sure we’re winning.”

“Ah.”

“But Annie wants me to be here when I’m here—to be me.  That’s why she calls me David.”  Deacon took a drink, gaze still far away and a bitter smile on his face. “I’m just not sure I am.”

“What?  Here?”

Deacon turned his head to look at Eddie. “There’s a lot of days when I feel like I’m really more Deacon than David.  That David she married is… I don’t know.  He’s the parts of me that I’ve left for her and for them and I’ve closed away the parts of me that are the job.  Feels like I’m only half here at times.”

“So how do you put it away?  How do you be with your family?” Eddie was curious how he did it.  So much of his life was intertwined helplessly in a tangled knot.  It was why losing Buck as a confidant had been so upsetting. It was why he had to work to get it back. 

“I made a promise to her the day I married her… and I try.  It’s hard work but… kids?” he gestured with the beer to where Lila and Matt were sitting in the grass with Christopher.  They were playing with something quietly—possibly just weaving grass chains like Buck had taught Christopher that one time. .”I do it for them. At work I’m Hondo’s Deacon but here I’m her David.”

After that, Deacon changed the conversation to focusing on Christopher.  Eddie could talk for days about Christopher without having to put any effort into it and he could tell that’s why Deacon had chosen it. Shortly, Annie was calling them for dinner which was wholesome and delicious.  Christopher had made good friends in both Matt and Lila—they were almost as thick as thieves by the time that Eddie decided to call it a night. 

“Dad,” Christopher pouted as he was put back into his car seat. “Why couldn’t we stay?”

Clicking the seatbelt with a sigh, Eddie debated for a moment whether or not to spill the beans. “You know that something I mentioned?”

Brows lowered, Christopher studied him. “What something?”

“I talked to Buck,” Eddie confessed. 

“Buck?” Was the excited reply. “Bucky?”

“Yeah Buddy. He’s expecting another call before bed.”

“We need to get home!” Chris all but pushed him away to close the door. “Faster Dad!”

“Yes Mijo,” he said, laughing. 

Eddie felt almost normal as he drove home, the anticipation of another phone call with Buck perhaps spurring him to drive slightly over the speed limit but always safely as he had the most precious cargo in the world with him. 

***

Still gonna shine on this world

Past it, too

It won’t stop

It don’t shine just for you

Birds don’t sing

Trees don’t lose

Leaves don’t change

Fall just for you

Shine just for you

 

Danny

Cuffing Sang Min was always a bit therapeutic but it also was unfortunately accompanied by having to actually talk to the slippery asshole. Kono always put on a brave face around him but Danny knew she really hated all the slimy things he said to her.  That first meeting between the two when he’d practically stripped her naked still rankled a bit with Danny—they should have protected her better. Not that Kono needed protecting—she was her own woman—but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have her back. 

“Hey hey Danno—watch the goods,” Sang Min protested with a sing song smile across his face as Danny frogmarched him out of Duke’s.  The lanky Asian man tried to tug out of his hold but he may have applied a bit of force to yank him back under control.  

Muttering under his breath about the insanity of his job, Danny shoved him into the back of a squad car and instructed the patrolmen to take him to lockup at HPD.  Steve and he made eye contact over the roof of the car and Steve inclined his head towards Buck with a questioning look. 

Danny sighed, eying Steve’s young protege.  He was quietly talking to the woman who had been sitting with Sang Min.  She was fluttering her eyelashes at Buck who was being professional about it and not letting her leave.  They needed to question her too since she’d been having lunch with Sang Min.  

Steve made another face that was asking Danny if they should interrupt and he shrugged in response.  This made Steve’s facial muscles  do a brief ‘aneurysm’ expression before it smoothed out into a mask of professionalism.

“Take the kid and get out of here,” Danny told him quietly. 

“You sure?”  Steve had the decency to look torn for a few seconds.

“Yeah.  I’m sure,” Danny urged.  “He’s had a long day already.”

Steve nodded decisively and Danny trailed in his wake as he approached Buck.  Buck gave a nod of acknowledgement, his back straightening into parade rest.  This didn’t go unnoticed by the woman.  “Sir.  This is Ms. Keiko ‘Aukai.”

“Ms. ‘Aukai,” Danny smoothly interrupted before Steve could talk.  “If you would come with me I have some additional questions.” 

Putting his hand on the woman’s low back, he escorted her to another patrol car. “Where are you taking me?  Am I under arrest?”  She was concerned, her pretty face screwing up in anxiety as she eyed the patrol car. 

“You’re not under arrest but because you were speaking with a person of interest we do have a formal interview to do.”  

“Should I have a lawyer?”  She balked moving any further. 

“We just need some information from you and time to verify where you were during the robberies.  Once we’ve verified that information you will be free to go.”

“But am I under arrest?”  She was intent and seemed disinclined to get in the car. 

“Ma’am,” Danny tried again.  “We have a few questions.  If you would like a lawyer I am happy to have them called for you down at HPD but you are going to need to come with us.  You are not currently under arrest.”

“But you’re not giving me a choice,” she observed.

“No I’m not.”

She glared at him but finally climbed into the car which he closed the door after her.  The patrol officer was instructed to take her to HPD holding.

Kono approached Danny as the patrol car pulled away from the curb. “Do you think she’s in on it?”

“She’s unhappy for sure,” Danny said with a shrug.  

“Yeah.  But why’s she with him?”

Danny looked at the patrol car that Sang Min was still sitting in the back of.  He noticed them looking and gave a jaunty wave that made Danny’s blood pressure rise. The man was up to something—he was sure of it. 

“Let’s see what Chin can dig up.  She can cool her heels for a few.”

Kono’s delicate snort was ignored. 

***

At headquarters, they’d sent the woman’s name ahead and Chin had delivered as promised.  With Steve and Buck out of his hair, Danny focused on the information Chin was relaying.  Ms. ‘Aukai had just inherited her shop from her late uncle who had for the most part paid his taxes and stayed off of anyone’s radar but there were hints in the financials that there was money being diverted.  For what Chin was unsure at the moment but given a few more hours to dig they might have something.  

Ms. ‘Aukai lived in an apartment that was a big step up from her previous digs just six months ago and she paid in cash per her landlord every month.  The dress that she was wearing was a local designer that had an expensive price tag but the jewels around her neck and on her ears were likely from the shop—she could have borrowed them as free advertising. 

She was a lovely young woman after all—Danny would make no assumptions about how at twenty six she was doing quite well from herself.  Maybe it had just been luck that her uncle had left things to her instead of his own three biological children who had all moved to the mainland for college and never returned. 

If nothing else they were going to have a forensic accountant look at the tax receipts. Something wasn’t adding up.

Staring through the one way glass into the interrogation room with Kono and Chin, Danny tried to get into her headspace.  Why would a woman like her be meeting with Sang Min? Protection money? Maybe.  Or was it something else.  He’d gotten that feel in that surf shop that there was something else going on and Sang Min wasn’t known to be big into protection rackets. 

There was something here.  Something hidden. 

“Do you want to talk to Sang Min tonight?” Chin asked. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Danny debated with himself before shaking his head in the negative.  Normally it would be a tag team job by him and Steve but he’d told Steve to take Buck home. One dunking in the pacific a day was enough for the kid—he was supposed to be recuperating in Danny’s book not running all over with Steve as his mini-me. 

Danny was also pretending that Buck would actually rest up. He knew this was probably just a pipe dream but he was going to hang onto it for at least a few more days before he gave up on it. 

Kid reminded him so much of Steve at times that it was painful. Both of them had that lost toy soldier look that made him want to put his fist through their respective parents faces and then shake them for not hugging them every once in a blue moon.   

Kono and Chin were both bent over the computer table while he was daydreaming, sorting through information and muttering to each other.  “Thoughts?” Danny interrupted them.

Chin spoke first.  “There’s a lot of money going in and out of the Maui Diver’s shop.  More than there should be.”

“Money laundering?” Danny asked, leaning back and putting his arms over his chest.

“Possibly,” Chin allowed, tapping on a few documents to bring them up.  “Traffic really picked up a year ago—before Ms ‘Aukai inherited.”

“So it started with the uncle?”

“That’s where it gets weird,” Kono broke in. “Eighteen months ago is the first documented payment to Keiko.”

“Was she working for her uncle?”  Danny was trying to map a timeline out in his head. 

“We have pay stubs.  Looks like she was a sales associate.  Didn’t make too much in commissions—must have not been that good.”  Chim pulled a W-2 which didn’t have that impressive of a number on the bottom line for wages earned. 

“That’s not enough to be affording that dress,” Danny observed.

“No,” Kono agreed before pulling up social media—Keiko’s.  “But look who’s here.”

There were pictures of what looked like some sort of high end party—cocktail dresses and men in loud Aloha shirts that looked like some of the ones that Danny had thought were overpriced earlier. As Kono went through the photos two familiar faces stood out. “Is that?”

Kono’s smile was viciously sharp.  “Sang Min… and Wo Fat.”

“Where were these photos taken? When?”  

“They were posted three months ago.  The logo in the background,” Chin zoomed in on a sign in the background of a picture of Keiko with three other women that was in Chinese.  “It’s for a casino in Macau.”

Scowling, Danny tapped his fingers against his chin.  “How are they getting in and out of the islands?”

Chin shrugged. “My guess?  Sang Min’s contacts for human smuggling. We knew about those Chinese freighters from our first case.  Probably making drops off the coast into smaller fishing vessels or speed boats and then it’s just a short ride back home.”

“Or the old tried and true measure—as freight,” Kono added darkly.  “But it doesn’t matter. They’re obviously coming and going as they please but Keiko is spending time with them.”

“And suddenly has a lot of money.  Sloppy,” Danny observed.

“I think we should let her sit overnight,” Chin offered.  “I want to look more into her.”

“You’ve got something?”  Danny pressed.

Chin shrugged, his face enigmatically blank. “Maybe.  I just want to dig more.”

“We can’t hold her forever unless we have charges.”

“Aiding and abetting?”

“Won’t stick,” Danny argued. “We have no proof and any lawyer will have her walking in hours—the photo isn’t enough.”

“Then let me talk to her,” Kono volunteered. 

“Woman to woman?” Chin asked, a small smile crinkling his eyes. 

Kono rolled her eyes at her cousin before the vicious smile reappeared. “That leaves Sang Min for you two.”

Wrinkling his nose, Danny huffed. “I suppose but he can wait.  I want to watch.”

Smile becoming lavicious, Kono put some mocking sway into her hips and jokingly twirled her hair around one finger. “Why Danno—“

Wagging a finger at her, Danny blustered in protest. “No—we’ve been over this.  It’s Danny.  Detective Williams. Hell I’d even take Daniel—“

Pouting, Kono rolled her eyes again. “Whatever you say boss.”

“Hey!” Danny grumbled just to keep up appearances as he followed her towards the interrogation rooms. “You know Steve heard that.”

Chin’s quiet “Like Steve would mind” was just barely heard and Danny elected to ignore whatever it was that Chin was trying to imply. 

It took about five minutes for Ms. ‘Aukai to be brought to the interrogation room.  She had a bored look on her face that appeared forced but she kept wringing her hands betraying her nervousness.  They’d removed the table from the interrogation room so there was no hiding her fidgeting.  Danny watched silently behind the one-way glass. 

“Ms. ‘Aukai—Keiko right?” Kono opened with.  Her voice was friendly, unassuming.  She was going with nice cop. 

“That’s correct. Keiko please.”  The pressing together of the lips was interesting.  Frustration there and a bit of worry.  Ms. ‘Aukai wasn’t happy to be here.

“I just need to clarify a few things,” Kono held up a picture of Sang Min.  “Is this the man you were having a late lunch with?”

Keiko’s dark eyes flickered to the picture and then back to Kono’s face. “Yes. Are you going to tell me what I was doing wrong?  I was just debating hiring him to provide security for my jewelry store.  Last I checked, given the police’s lack of concern, it wasn’t against the law to have private security.”

Kono ignored the bait.  “What name do you know him by?”

Keiko’s left eyebrow twitched. “His name is Danny.”

“Danny what?” 

“Danny Kalakaua.” 

Danny bit his lip.  Sang Min thought he was being cute.  Or Keiko was. 

“How long have you known Mr. Kalakaua?” 

“A week.  He stopped by after the robbery and gave me his card.  Explained that sometimes insurance would cover his fees.”

“Do you still have his card?”

“No.  Maybe?  It’s likely on my desk.  I have his phone number in my phone after I agreed to a lunch meeting.”

“When did you agree to meet with him?”

“Yesterday.”

“Did you do any research on security companies before agreeing to meet with Mr. Kalakaua?”

Keiko’s pretty mouth turned down in a scowl and her tone turned nasty. “What does it matter if I did any research?  I agreed to meet with him as getting information and why is that a big deal?  Maybe you could work on getting my inventory back and then I wouldn’t need to hire security.”

“So you did no research?  Make any calls?  Check with the other owners of stores in the Marketplace?”

“No,” Keiko crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed as she stared down her nose at Kono.  “Is that a problem.”

Kono changed tactics.  “Did Mr. Kalakaua suggest Duke’s or did you.”

“He did.”  

“Time?”

“His suggestion,” Keiko said with a flip of her hair and smile that was anything but friendly.  “I ordered my own drink though.”

“Do you always talk business over drinks?”

Keiko was silent. Kono waited her out. “No.  This was a first.”

Nodding, Kono held up the photo again. “The man you know as Danny Kalakaua is Sang Min.  He’s been convicted of human trafficking, gun smuggling among other things and had escaped from prison where he was serving thirty to life.”

Noticeably, this didn’t seem to faze Ms. ‘Aukai. “And?  Seems like you didn’t do a very good job keeping him in prison if he’s meeting me for lunch.  Is there anything else you want to know?”

Kono stared at her for a minute.  “No.  We’ll need your contact information and would ask that you remain on Oahu for the next few days until the case is closed.”

“Well if that’s all,” Keiko mocked, “can I go?”

“Let me show you out,” Kono said, waving her hand behind her back to indicate Danny should make himself scarce which he did.  He’d just made it around the corner to appear as if he was coming to talk with Kono when Keiko almost barged right into him in her rush to get out of the interrogation room. 

“Ms. ‘Aukai,” Danny greeted her to slow her down.  The way her face fell in disappointment before she masked it was impressive.  She wanted out of the station—desperately. 

“Detective…?”

“Detective Williams,” he offered.  

“I was told I’m free to go,” she snapped. 

Danny motioned down the hall towards the front. “That way then.  We’ll be in touch.”

The “Aloha!” She threw over her shoulder was a bit aggressive and insincere. 

Waiting until she was stopped by the desk Sargent at the front, Danny turned back to Kono who’d joined him.  “What do you think?”

“I think she knows a lot more than she’s saying.”

“You want to follow her.”

“I do,” Kono agreed. “I want to see where she takes us.”

“I’m sure it’ll be someplace interesting.”

***

Kono was out and following Keiko leaving Danny to stare at the security feed of Sang Min’s cell.  The man had immediately stretched out and was taking a nap.  It was both impressive as well as irritating how the man adapted so quickly to being locked up again.  Danny was pretty sure he was just biding his time. 

Sang Min could bide his time until tomorrow.  Danny wanted to be fresh when dealing with him instead of dead tired on his feet. 

it was getting late.  Chin had already headed out, checking in with Kono every hour or so which meant Danny was the last one in the office.  He should head home—he’d told Steve he was going to spend time with Grace and Charlie but Rachel had texted earlier asking if she could keep them tonight as there had been some sort of thing going on with Grace’s friends. 

He was at loose ends but didn’t feel he could bother Steve. 

Turning off his computer, he was on his way out when he noticed there was an alert active on the tabletop computer. Tapping on it, it woke the screen.  The identification request that Chin had sent out on their smash and grab from earlier had come back on Kanazawa.  Surprise, surprise—Kanazawa wasn’t his real name and he wasn’t from California. Or at least originally.

Jacob Kanazawa was legally Jiro Watanabe who was born in Japan to a Chinese mother and Japanese father and emigrated to the USA when he was four after his father had gotten in some sort of trouble. Jiro himself had been in and out of trouble it seemed ever since according to his file following in his father’s footsteps.  There was notes about multiple robberies, assaults and gun violations but he always seemed to disappear or get pled out to a lesser charge. 

Either Jiro had excellent luck or a really good lawyer—maybe both. 

Known associations included link to both the Triads as well as the yakuza.  

Danny supposed he wasn’t that good if he kept getting caught and the man hadn’t struck him as a criminal mastermind. He didn’t have Sang Min’s flare and that tourist shirt had been uninspired as well as cheap. 

There was nothing however in the file that needed his attention tonight.  Locking the computer, he wandered out.  He wasn’t sure where he was going but he couldn’t stay here all night. 

Danny didn’t sleep well.  His dreams were fragmented and he kept mixing up kid and Steve.  He’d see Buck falling out of the back of that truck in Korea and by the time Danny got to him it was Steve again.  Flashes of some of Steve’s best hits of terrible ideas scrambled up with their newest recruit. 

Getting up and pacing the length of his house didn’t help so he returned to his bed for more nonsensical messed up dreams. Waking up in the morning at what he considered a more decent hour than Steve’s rise before the sun habits, he’d just made up a cup of coffee when his phone rang with the caller ID showing HPD.  “Detective Williams.”

“Danny we’ve got a problem,” Duke said, voice stressed.

“Problem?”  Danny was already rekeying the entry code to his gun safe. 

“Sang Min’s disappeared.  His cell is empty.”

“What?”

***

All the light under the sun

And all the light above it, too

Is gonna rise and shine 

And all the light under the sun

And all the light above it too,

It don’t shine for you

 

Like the joy and the tear in your eye

Like the little start that could

Could you remember every mistake that you’ve made

At least all the ones you should

Have made

If you take it your wish, then I will make it mine

Try to make sense of who is who

 

Buck

Getting off the phone with Eddie, he was pretty sure his vision was blurred because he was so relieved. He felt like something that had been lodged underneath his breast bone had been shaken loose and his breathing was easier.  Eddie forgave him—forgave him!

Steve had cooked breakfast and Buck wolfed down his own portion of the eggs—appetite having returned full force.  He was more than ready to face the day now and felt energized. 

“You have a good talk?”  Steve’s tone was neutral as was his body language but Buck wasn’t fooled. His old CO was laser focused on him but trying to be casual about it.

“I did.”

“And?”  Steve fidgeted slightly, fork scraping the bowl and moving bits of scrambled egg around but not eating it. 

“Eddie’s… he got in some trouble but he’s going to be okay.” Steve’s hands went still just for a millisecond and Buck’s eyes narrowed. “But you already knew that.  What did you do?”

Blanching, Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I may have called in a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”  Buck’s brain connected the bits of information and who Steve knew.  “Hondo.”

“Yeah,” Steve confessed, looking a bit hesitant. “I asked him to take care of him because he was your friend.”

“When did you do this?”

“A few days ago.”

An evasion—Steve was allowing Buck to make his own assumptions. “This happened right after?”

“Yeah.”

Buck paused. Had his leaving….no.  Eddie said he’d not been doing well and Buck had been so preoccupied with fitting back in and the distance between them he’d managed to completely miss something wrong with Eddie as he was too busy spinning in his own mental circles. The flash of guilt was crushing. “I didn’t notice.”

“Didn’t notice what?”

“That Eddie… I missed…” The grocery store.  Eddie had said he’d been selfish. That he’d missed the effect his absence had on others. He hadn’t thought about that as he’d been too preoccupied with getting back to work that he’d cut himself off from Eddie everyone as part of the lawsuit. “I wasn’t there.”

Buck wanted to pace but Steve’s hands on his shoulders had him stopping before he started. “Stop.  You are not responsible for anyone but yourself.”

“But I—“

“Evan.  I get it.  Eddie is important to you but he’s also an adult.”  Steve was holding him now by both upper arms, making Buck look at him and his expression was dead serious. “You were hurting too.  Eddie could have helped.”

“He was helping!  Until I….”  Buck internally flagellated himself.  Eddie had been doing nothing but helping him.  He’d given him Chris even after the tsunami. Given Buck his trust—his heart outside his body as he’d called it—and Buck had pushed it away.  He’d… Eddie’d needed him and he hadn’t been there. “I left.”

“But you needed to for you—I’m sure Eddie understands that.”

“Does he?”  Buck’s voice broke.  “He said he forgave me but… does he?”

“Have you ever known Eddie to say something he didn’t mean?”  

Steve didn’t blink, causing Buck to think.  Eddie was a big believer in show not tell—he was quiet that way through physical affection and hugs—but he made efforts to make sure he was understood and he’d never not told Buck the truth.  Eddie had told him that Christopher hadn’t seen it as Buck losing him in the tsunami. That Buck had saved him.  Eddie had found the words to tell him that but he hadn’t… 

Buck had pushed him away and Eddie had… shit Buck was an asshole. He’d left Eddie like Shannon had and Eddie had forgiven him just like he had Shannon but did Buck deserve it?  He didn’t feel like he deserved it right now.  He’d left Eddie alone with Christopher who was having nightmares and—

“Buck.”  Steve had been calling his name a few times now. “Focus kid.  Breathe!”

Buck had been hyperventilating and he felt dizzy, spots dancing in front of his eyes and he would have probably fallen on his ass if Steve wasn’t holding him upright. “Eddie forgave me,” he managed to wheeze out. 

“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes were concerned as he guided Buck to half sit, half collapse on a kitchen chair. “What did he forgive you for?”

“For leaving.”  His throat felt tight and it hurt to admit what he’d done. Steve was going to be so disappointed in him.

“How’d you leave?”

Buck looked away from Steve’s hazel eyes that almost appeared steel grey in the early morning light. “I… we didn’t talk after I filed the lawsuit and I told… I told my lawyer private things.  Things I shouldn’t have. Eddie said… he said he forgave me if I forgave him.”

“And do you think he meant it?”

That was the million dollar question. Did Buck believe Eddie?

Yes.  Yes he did.  He’d witnessed Eddie’s forgiveness with Shannon.  How he’d shoved aside any feelings he might have to try and do what was best for Christopher which was two parents. How Eddie had tried to redo things with here—Buck had been there when he’d gone ring shopping as Eddie had needed some best friend support.  

Buck had also been there when Shannon had died and Eddie had told him he’d returned the ring after he’d asked if Eddie thought the ring should be on her finger when they buried her.  The way that Eddie’s eyes had shuttered in pain when he told Buck that Shannon had asked for a divorce instead had made Buck want to wrap Eddie in bubble wrap and protect him as he’d been just moments away from shattering like glass.  

Witnessing Eddie pull everything back in, tighten down his shields against the outside world which included his own parents and sisters had been surprising to Buck.  Even more surprising was how he seemed to be let behind those shields when no one else was.  Eddie had reached for him and Buck had been so willing to help.  Bobby’s words of advice regarding Abby had guided him—he’d stepped in to share the pain with Eddie. 

Until he’d run away and left Eddie alone again. 

Buck’s thoughts skittered away from further comparisons between himself and Shannon or Eddie and Abby. 

“Do you think he meant it?”  Steve repeated the question again. 

“I think he does.  Eddie’s forgiven me.”  Just saying it aloud again felt like Buck was flying apart, the crushing weight on his shoulders falling away just as quickly as it’d come. “He said he’d forgive me if I forgave him.”

“And do you forgive him?” Steve asked, mouth turning down like he wasn’t exactly sure what he was asking.

“I already did.”

“That’s good right?” Steve asked, unsure. 

Buck could only nod, still surprised by the way his thoughts kept turning over the way Eddie had said he’d forgiven him. “How much trouble is Eddie in?  He said he wasn’t.”

Steve hesitated but Buck knew he was being truthful when he spoke. “He got in a fight that got busted.  He’s not being charged.”

“Because of Hondo?”

“Because I asked Hondo to help.  He made Eddie a deal.”

“A deal?”  Buck frowned. “What kind of deal?”

“That he gets the help he needs.  As long as he does that he’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

The frown deepened into a scowl. “Help?  Eddie’s—“

“Both of you need therapy Buck.”  

Buck mulishly wanted to disagree. “I’ve been doing fine.” Steve’s disbelieving look had him pausing before he could argue further.  “Mostly fine.  And it didn’t do me any good the last time I went.”

“You aren’t fine and I… how would you feel about talking to someone a bit less traditional?”

“Non-traditional?” Buck was confused.  He would not go back to that therapist that Bobby had sent him to.  He wasn’t… he wasn’t doing that again. His skin still felt like he needed to scrub at it when he thought about his first and only experience with an actual civilian therapist—he wasn’t going to think of the military head shrinks he’d had to see for routine clearance as this was something completely different. He thought Steve had understood his feelings about therapists after what he’d told him last night. 

“A kahuna.  Someone I’ve known since I was a kid.”

“A kahuna?  Like a big kahuna?  I thought that was a surfing or a ninja turtles thing?”  Buck remembered Eddie saying no more teenage mutant ninja turtles a while back because Chris had been picking up some bad habits from the turtles. 

Steve let out a short amused laugh, shaking his head. “Kahuna like Mamo are shamans here in Hawai’i.  I’ve known him since I was a kid and he’s someone you can talk to.”

“Someone not you.”

“Someone not me,” Steve agreed, waiting Buck out. “He’s not a therapist but he’s a spiritual leader.  An elder.”

“Someone you would talk to?  If you had to?”  Steve had had the same military head shrink mandatory appointments as Buck and their entire unit had tolerated them as part of normal operating procedure  Nobody liked talking to the shrinks even if they were supposed to not be stigmatized anymore it still was a big part of seal culture to think of yourself as mentally tough and not needing their help. 

“I’ve talked to Mamo in the past.”

“Did he help?”

“He did.” 

Buck thought on it. If Steve had talked to this Mamo and found him helpful… he couldn’t keep going round and round in these circles. He felt trapped. He wanted to believe Eddie forgave him.  He wanted to figure out how to fix everything. 

He needed to move forward. 

“I’ll meet with Mamo if you think… if you think it’ll help.”

The way that Steve’s shoulders relaxed instantly at his agreement told Buck he’d made the right decision in Steve’s eyes. “I’ll set it up. You’ll see.”

“Okay.”

***

Going into work felt a bit different today. He felt both lighter as well as more weighted after talking to Eddie and then his conversation with Steve. Lately he’d felt trapped in this never ending spiral of doubt and worry.  Eddie’s forgiveness and Steve’s gentle advice had him hoping he could escape that circle. Maybe this Mamo would help.  Maybe he could figure out how to talk to Eddie like normal.  

There were a lot of maybes but he felt like he had hope again.  Hope that had been missing for too long. 

Chin greeted them with a soft aloha, a cup of coffee clutched in his hands like a lifeline.  “Did you talk to Danny?” He asked Steve, his hands flickering over the smart screen as he sifted through information.

“No?”  Steve was right behind Buck, his own cup of Kona in his hand. 

Chin’s frown was severe. “Oh.”

“Oh what?” Steve asked just as Danny barreled through the with the energy of a small tornado. 

“We’ve got a mole,” he snarled before clarifying as they all looked at him, “in HPD.”

“What happened?” Steve’s sharp command had Danny stepping over to the computer table. Chin seemed to be aware of whatever Danny was about to say as he snapped up the booking photos of the guy they’d cuffed yesterday that the entire team seemed to know. 

“Sang Min disappeared from his holding cell between 5 and 6 AM.”

“What?  How?”  Steve’s sharp bark along with the way he suddenly became taut like a strung wire had Buck on high alert. 

Chin was fiddling with something and then the screen was filled with closed circuit camera of the HPD holding cells.  The time stamp said 0544 and a familiar looking female figure wearing a uniform showed up, her face turned away from the camera and just far enough out to only be partially in frame, a cell phone glued to her ear.  The desk sergeant was relieved at 0545–early per Chin. Usual shift change happened at 0600. The overnight sergeant was gone by 0547 and yawning as he disappeared off screen.

The moment the night sergeant left, the woman walked up to the desk and flashed her badge.  It was a gold detective shield but the footage was too grainy to get a number. She continued to have her head tilted down and away from the camera like she knew exactly where it was. 

The sergeant nodded at whatever she was saying—something about prisoner transport.   The sergeant wrote down the badge number on a post it and then grabbed a set of keys.  Chin briskly followed them down the row of holding cells until they stopped in front of the cell that must have had Sang Min in it.  In a separate window, Chin had pulled up the camera from Sang Min’s cell. They still couldn’t get a clear shot of the female officer’s face. 

Buck realized why she looked so familiar as Sang Min seemed delighted to see who had come to pick him up, holding his hands out like it was a joke. 

It was Kono. 

Kono slapped a pair of cuffs on Sang Min and roughly pushed him out into the hallway.  Not once did she look at the camera, her hair falling in a cascade over her face to hide it as she muscled Sang Min out, the thrust of her jaw showing it was clenched and she was speaking through gritted teeth.  The only clear word picked up by the mic was “—behave!”

Sang Min—the asshole—purposefully looked straight up into the camera and gave it a toothy grin before blowing a kiss to it as he was led out the front door to a waiting unmarked van.  Kono and Sang Min climbed in the back, a arm clad in a black shirt and gloves closing the door after them. 

“Why would Kono do that?” Buck asked the silent room.

“Someone’s making her,” Steve growled. “Chin make sure your family is all accounted for. I’m going to call Adam—“

“No need,” a raspy voice spoke up.  

An Asian male listed to the side in the doorway that was keeping him upright like something was wrong with his ribs.  He looked rough, his face bruised and one eye almost swollen shut. He started to say Kono’s name when he started to fall forward. 

He would have face planted on the floor if it wasn’t for Buck catching him at the last second. “I take it this guy’s the Adam?”

The guy was out cold.  He’d passed out. 

“He’s Adam Noshimuri.  Kono’s husband.”

“Well this can’t be good,” Buck muttered as he began checking the guy over out of habit. 

 

And all the light under the sun

All the light above it, too

(summer don’t turn to fall)

All the light under the sun

(It’s not just for you)

 

Lyrics: Subplots by Jack Johnson

Notes:

It’s been a while? I’m still working away at this….work has just been a tad bit busy over the winter.

Anyways, thanks for reading as always.

Chapter 7: You Can’t Believe Everything You See and Hear

Summary:

Eddie and Buck have established regular communication but they’ve not yet worked through everything—they’ve both got work to do on themselves. Eddie finds out a few details that had eluded him and it throws him for a loop. 5-0 searches for their missing member and a demon from Steve’s past reappears as the potential reason for Kono’s disappearance. Steve makes a promise that he might not be able to keep.

Notes:

Warning this chapter for discussions about therapist/Buck from 911 season one.

 

Chapter 7: You Can’t Believe Everything You See and Hear

 

After we spoke I had a dream that I broke

The teeth from a mouth of a snake

That I choked on the teeth

They were mine all along

 

Buck

The heart monitor’s intermittent alarms still made him want to jump out of his skin even though he’d been trading in and out with a few HPD members that Steve trusted for days and should be used to them by now.  Buck had stubbornly insisted on taking the night watch tonight, thinking he could grab a few hours at Noshimuri’s bedside.  He was used to sleeping light anyways—every time the nurses came in he woke instantly and was alert.  Buck would watch them adjust something on the IV pole or swap out a medication bag that was almost empty at the last moment, asking them what they were hanging and verifying the labels said the same and ask them to explain it’s function.

Google and him were best friends about medication names at this point.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust the nurses—it was that Adam Noshimuri hadn’t woken up yet and he’d been pretty badly banged up.  Buck’d had a few moments where he’d mentally debated calling Maddie but he’d decided that was a terrible idea as she’d start asking too many questions about why he needed to know about ICU medications.  Hen and Chimney were also nonstarters as he didn’t want to tell them where he was.  Eddie had confessed that most of the medications weren’t his specialty but he’d helped answer a few of Buck’s questions the first day and asked how Noshimuri was every time they talked which was almost daily now.

Buck’s day revolved around those calls if he was being honest. 

In a few hours, he’d call Eddie to say good morning—the time difference working in his favor so he could check in with Eddie before the day really got going and was about the time that he was relieved so he could go have a swim with Steve.  Eddie didn’t have much to say the last week other than he’d been off and Buck got the impression he’d been stuck in his head too much. 

Eddie had insisted he was fine but when pressed he’d finally admitted he was working on being fine but talking to Buck was helping.  

That small confession meant that Buck had to make time to talk to Eddie every day.  

It was helping him too. 

Even if they weren’t talking about the things they really needed to.  

By mutual agreement they seemed to have put off talking about their prior arguments.  Buck was waiting until he was physically with Eddie—there were some things he just couldn’t talk to him over the phone about.  He needed to see Eddie’s reaction, be able to… he didn’t know. Touch Eddie?  The urge to wrap himself around Eddie was something he’d been denying himself from about two days after meeting the man seemed to always be at the forefront of his mind every time they talked. 

And it was only talking. 

Mostly.  

He was FaceTiming with them at night so he could help put Christopher to bed. Eddie usually looked like he needed to sleep so Buck just told him he’d talk to him in the morning. that would get him that little curve at the corners of Eddie’s mouth that was a smile he liked to think of just his. 

Having Eddie back in his life—even just scraps like this—was what he’d been needing for months. Buck had agreed to talk to Mamo, a Hawaiian kahuna, at Steve’s insistence.  Was actually supposed to talk with the man later today he realized as he looked at the clock above Noshimuri’s bed.  Red digital numbers blinked at him showing 0030–zero dark thirty. 

Today was Eddie’s first shift back after having been put on leave.  The fact that Buck wasn’t there made him uneasy.  He wanted to have Eddie’s back like always but being a couple thousand miles away meant he couldn’t.  Eddie had told him it was okay—that he needed to take time too. All the time he’d needed had been the exact words he’d used. 

The time he needed…

Buck wasn’t sure what that meant. 

He kinda hated that phrase.  He’d said that to Abby and then Eddie had said it to him.  It sounded like… it sounded like a breakup but that wasn’t what he and Eddie were. They weren’t like that. Couldn’t be like that because of Shannon and…

What was he thinking?  

Tiredly, Buck rubbed at his face.  The almost a week worth of stubble was starting to look like a patchy beard and he was at the itchy point where he either needed to commit to growing a beard or shave it all off. 

He’d been clean shaven for years as it was required for his respirator mask to fit.  It’d become part of just how he was… 

When he’d been in the seals there had often been a relaxation of grooming standards when they were deployed which was more often than not.  When you were in what was colloquially called an ‘austere environment’ you didn’t really prioritize shaving. 

Shaving had been part of what separated Buck from his seal days. 

Now he was all but standing guard and his jaw was covered in scruff. 

He didn’t feel much like himself today. The old parts of his life and the newer parts like Eddie both needing his attention was weird. Not bad—just weird. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

Buck had blocked out a lot of his seal days. Boxed those parts of himself up and remade himself into a firefighter. He’d told Freddie that he’d needed to help people not shoot them.  

Now he was carrying a gun at his hip and a badge.  He’d come full circle and was back to carrying that gun he thought he’d put down permanently. 

His life had taken a few turns lately. 

He wasn’t sure where he was going. It didn’t feel like he was in control anymore given the whole situation with Bobby and the lawsuit and just… everything. Which had been scary to feel like his whole identity that he’d built had been taken away from him.  What was he if he wasn’t Evan Buckley, firefighter, partner to Eddie, teammate to Bobby, Hen and Chimney. Buck wasn’t Petty Officer Second Class Buckley anymore.  Hadn’t been in years and he didn’t want to go back to being him.  

He felt like he needed to reclaim the parts of his identity that had broken off and put them back together.  He was still Buck. 

Talking with Steve helped. Talking with Eddie helped even more.  Possibly because there was actual distance between them that made it easier to talk to the voice over the phone.   

Sighing, he rubbed his face tiredly.  He should shave. He’d put it on his to do list. 

Meanwhile, the almost silent hum of the iv pump was the only noise in the room. The electric green tracing of the heart rate monitor and the blue oxygen wave steady with the numbers all in good ranges. 

Wake up dude, Buck thought silently at Noshimuri.  

The team was tearing up the island looking for Kono but she’d vanished with only Noshimuri’s blood staining the floor of her living room carpet.  Buck had been all over Oahu from the North Shore and Haleiwa to Kaneohe, Diamond Head and Pearl City. Danny had cracked a joke that he was getting a tour of the less desirable side of Hawaii and that was true to a certain extent.  

He had seen a lot of alleys and dumpsters in the last few days. 

Buck had been introduced to everyone from CIs to low level gangsters as well as the Kapu.  Kawika was an intimidating Hawaiian man and he’d taken one look at him and immediately given Steve grief for collecting another haole to which Steve had rolled his eyes and then pointedly gotten back to grilling him about Kono’s whereabouts and how he could help. 

Haole.  That word that Danny hadn’t wanted to define for him. Chin had taken pity upon him and explained what it meant.  A non-native Hawaiian and usually meant in a derogatory sense and it was worse than being called a mainlander which was also not a good thing to be called. Buck had tried to protest that A) he wasn’t Hawaiian so calling him A) non-native was accurate yet not a personal failing or character quality that mattered and neither was Danny and also B) was there any other term for a foreigner other than the equally derogatory mainlander they could try?

He hadn’t meant to but he’d made Chin laugh so it’d been worth it.  Chin’s response was that maybe Buck should talk to Danny about reclaiming the term.  He’d also explained the name kama’aina which meant someone not of Hawaiian heritage that lived in Hawaii as well as the term kanaka which was a description for a native Hawaiian of Hawaiian heritage. 

In Buck’s limited experience, Hawaiian had too many k’s, h’s the occasional w thrown in for variety and so many vowels. He was trying to keep all the new terms straight but it was a bit of a juggling act and he kept having his tongue get tangled on the longer names. He’d also met too many men with K names to keep track of them all at this point other than Kawika and Kamekona. 

At least the big Hawaiian had been keeping them well fed.  Buck might be addicted to the man’s shrimp plate at this point.  

The clock ticked over to 0200, Kailani—tonight’s nurse—almost silently slipped into the room. Seeing Buck was awake, she game him a small smile. “Any change?”

“No.  Nothing.”

She gave a small disappointed sigh. “He’ll wake up.”

“It’s been days.  Isn’t the longer he goes without waking up the more likely he won’t?”  Buck had maybe been googling too much which he’d always been told by Maddie was a bad idea with medical things unless you knew what you were looking for. The one thing Buck had found was the longer comas went the worse the prognosis—that seemed to be consistent. He’d come across stories of people waking up after years in comas but that was rare. 

“We’ve been weaning his medication that keeps him sedated now that all the surgeries are done,” she dropped her gaze briefly to the gauze that covered Noshimuri’s belly. There’d been four surgeries done to fix the mess his guts had been due to the injury to the intestines.

Gut wounds were a terrible way to die—the infections were usually what got you.  Buck knew this from his training in the Seals. Luckily they weren’t deployed and Noshimuri had had the best of medical care. 

The knife wound wasn’t the only thing the surgeons had been worried about—Noshimuri had taken a bunch of blows to the head and he’d had some minor bleeding on the brain.  This had made the neurosurgeons hover the first day or so but they hadn’t intervened. Then there was the ribs—a lot of them on the left were broke and the lung had collapsed.  

Noshimuri had a frightening number of tubes and machines connected to him still. The ventilator’s stead hiss in and out as it delivered each breath. The intermittent beeps of the heart monitor and all it’s squiggly waveforms that Buck verified constantly were in a ‘good range’ for Noshimuri.  At least they’d removed the probe from Kono’s husband’s skull and now there was just a clean white bandage wrapped around the shaved head. 

Adam Noshimuri looked terrible and lifeless in the bed, eyes closed as if simply asleep.  

“How do you know?” Buck asked Kailani.

“He’s young and strong,” she muttered as she checked each bag of medicine and traced it through the IV pumps and back to the patient. “And he has you all watching over him.  He’s important to people.”

“That doesn’t,” Buck was exasperated. “That doesn’t mean he’s going to be fine.”

“He’s got a tough recovery ahead but he’ll make it,” she said with confidence as she finished.  “You’ll see.”

Buck wished he could have the same confidence as the nurse.  He supposed she’d seen stuff like this before so he’d trust her judgement and try to be hopeful.  Kailani left him alone, her work done for the moment and she had another patient she was in charge of tonight. 

He’d call Eddie in an hour. Setting his alarm, he tried to get comfortable in the recliner that wasn’t built for someone of his size. 

***

Awakening to silent vibration of his alarm, Buck blinked back awake. Nothing in the room had changed. The monitor was the only light in the room with neon green, blue and red lines contain inducing their rhythmic march across the screen. Rubbing his eyes to wipe away the grit at the corners, he yawned as he fished out his headphones and inserted them in his ears as he tapped on Eddie’s name to call him. 

Eddie answered on the second ring, his voice sleep rough. “Mornin’ Buck.”

“Good morning.”  Today was Eddie’s first day back at work. Eddie would have about thirty minutes to himself before he’d have to get Christopher up then forty five minutes until Carla would arrive and Eddie would head out the door to drive to work. 

Today was a big day. 

Eddie’s silence down the line was comfortable, both of them still half asleep.

“You ready for today?”

There was a small pause. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“Wish I could be there,” slipped out before Buck could yank back the thought.  He did wish he was there with Eddie but he wasn’t. They hadn’t talked about this. Had been carefully avoiding it actually. 

After a moment, Eddie spoke but his voice was much more alert and all traces of sleep gone. “You’re always with me at work.”

“No I’m not,” Buck protested as he sat up straight and pushed the foot rest back with a snap of chair almost catapulting him out. Kailani must have snuck in because there was a blanket covering him that he hadn’t pulled up. The nurse was sneaky when she needed to be. 

He was so tangled in the blanket he almost missed what Eddie said next.  “You are Buck.  I know,” there was the sound of a deep inhale through the crackly connection, “I’m the firefighter I am because I’ve been your partner for so long so even if you’re not physically here with me you’re always here.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Buck grumbled, trying not to let his voice break. “I’m sorry I’m not there.”

“No.  Don’t be sorry. You need…you need time. I understand.”

Sitting forward, bent over his knees, Buck stared at the floor. Eddie understood?  They’d talked around this—avoided it after that first phone call.  He stood up and began pacing in the small cramped space between wall and hospital bed.  “When you say that what do you mean?  That I need time?”

The connection between LA and Oahu crackled for a few seconds before Eddie spoke. “I… I push the people I love the most away Buck.   I pushed Shannon away too. She said… she told me she needed time just like I did when I said that to her.  I didn’t mean…. I didn’t mean it like she took it but I think… I think I understand why she needed to get away from me.”

“I don’t need to get away from you,” Buck denied.  He didn’t.  The problem was he never wanted to be away from Eddie which wasn’t… wasn’t appropriate for best friends.  He was too needy and—

“Evan.”  The whisper of his name made his tumbling thoughts grind to a stumbling halt from the spiral they’d started to fall into as well as his feet that now felt glued to the linoleum. “You still there?”

“Yeah.”  His voice sounded like his vocal cords were two seconds away from giving out. 

“I know that I wasn’t giving you what you need from me.”

“No!  Eddie,” it felt hard to speak around the tight knot in his throat. “Eddie… the problem was they wouldn’t let me… they said I couldn’t be your partner.  They kept me from… from having your back and then the tsunami happened and I lost Christopher and…”

“Evan.”  Again Eddie said his name so softly and insistently that Buck lost the words to continue explaining why he’d done what he’d done. This is why he’d wanted to wait until—

“Evan.  I meant it when I said you are always there with me.  You saved Christopher.  If it had been anyone else—Carla, Shannon, or even Me—I don’t think we’d still have him.”

“It was my fault he was on the pier.  It was my decision—“

“You needed to get out and have some fresh air.  I,” Eddie paused for just a second before continuing, “I wanted you to watch Christopher so you’d have each other.  He… he was having nightmares but when he spent the day with you he slept better those nights and I thought… I thought it was helping you too.”

Buck wiped away the tears he hadn’t realized that were escaping the corner of his eyes. He was crying in a hospital room of a guy he barely knew a thousand miles away from where he should be. “It was helping,” he admitted. It had been—until he’d had brand new things to have nightmares about.  The combination of losing Chris, drowning, being pinned under the ladder truck and being left alone again  by himself were the nightly features of his dreams the last six months. 

His leg ached with phantom pain at the memory of being stuck under the truck. 

“I know.”  Eddie’s voice echoed that pain but it was emotional instead of physical. 

They both were silent, letting the words they’d both said sink in. 

“I meant it when I said that there’s nobody else I trust more with Chris than you.”  Eddie repeated the same words he’d said that time when he’d shown up without notice to drop Christopher with him.  Those same words he’d used to cajole Buck into agreeing to watch his son that sometimes Buck would just repeat over and over in his brain when he was missing his Diaz boys in the middle of the night in his cold and lonely bed. 

“But why?” Buck asked the burning question.  He’d asked Eddie before but he’d not believed the answer he’d been given then and he didn’t know if he would now.  Why did Eddie trust him so much before when it was obvious that he shouldn’t have. 

“Because you saved him Evan.”

“Why’re you… you’re calling me Evan?”  The way Eddie said his voice was soft with something at the edge of it that made it different than when anyone else used it. It felt private and special, doing something to make his stomach flip in his belly and his breath catch. 

Eddie sighed, the noise crackling down the long distance line even though his voice was strong and clear as he spoke. “Because this is important… and I like calling you Evan—occasionally.”

Buck didn’t know what to make of that and he sniffled noisily. “Does that mean I get to call you Edmundo?”

Eddie groaned. “I’d rather not.  I don’t think of myself as an Edmundo.  Not even Abuela calls me that.”

“Yeah well only Maddie—“

“And your old commander.”

“Well… yeah?  Only they call me Evan—and Steve only calls me that when I’m in trouble.”  Specifically Steve called him by his full formal name and it made Buck straighten up to parade rest and try not to wince. 

“I won’t call you Evan all the time then—but this is important so I’m using it now.”

“Okay Edmundo,” Buck might have put a bit of fake sarcasm on Eddie’s full name in defense.  This conversation had already gotten way deeper than he meant it to be and he was feeling unsteady. He wasn’t prepared to talk about this but if Eddie wanted to he would listen. 

“You’re important to me and to Christopher.  I want… I want to be able to give you the time you need to do whatever you need to do next. Whether that’s…. I want you to be back here but I know you might not want to be here.”

“Eddie—“

“Let me finish. I told Shannon I needed time when I first got back after… after I got out of the army. I had too many things coming at me all at once and I wasn’t… I couldn’t give her what she needed from me.  You’re… you’re my best friend.  It doesn’t matter if you’re here or in Hawaii.  You’re it.  And I screwed up with Shannon but I’m not… I don’t want to screw up with you.”

“Eddie—you’re not screwing up with me.”

“I was.  I wasn’t talking to you.”

“That was my fault,” Buck’s tongue was tripping over itself as he tried to speak. “I was the one who filed the lawsuit.  I’m the one who… I messed up.”

“We both did.”

Buck wasn’t sure he agreed wholly with that.  It was more his fault but he needed Eddie to understand how important he was in his life.  How he needed both Eddie and Christopher—possibly more than anyone else including even Maddie. “I missed you.  I missed you so much Eds.”

There was a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “I missed you too Ev.  I can’t… I… the more I talk to Frank the more I realize I can’t… I can’t do things without you.”

Buck was ready to jump on the first plane back to LA at the confession that he was needed.  Eddie needed him.  He should be there not here. “Eds—let me figure out a plane and I’ll—“

“No.” 

The soft negative made Buck sway and almost collapse, his legs suddenly feeling like jelly and his back struck the wall as he slumped into it. “No?”

“I…,” there was a definite sniffle, “I want you to do what you need to do.”

“Well what I need is to be there for my best friend!”

“Is it?”  

How could Eddie think that he wouldn’t be there for him.  How could Eddie say that when he’d just—

“I need you back when you’re ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Are you?”  The vocalization of doubt felt like he was being stabbed right in the heart. “You said you were talking to that Hawaiian holy guy later today yesterday.  That you… I want you to take time for yourself Evan. I need you back when you’re ready.  I can… I can make do.”

“Make do?  Eds—“

“I’m serious Ev.  I know I need to work on myself to be your friend again.”

“You’ve never stopped being my friend.”

“I screwed up.  You say you made a mistake but I screwed up too.”

“But if you need me—“

“I can wait.  I can wait as long as you need me to Evan. I will wait for you.”

What was Eddie saying?  Buck didn’t understand. “But you said you need me.  Why won’t you let me be there for you?”

“I said I can’t do it without you and I… I mean that.  But I can make do with phone calls. What I can’t do… I can’t go not talking to you. I can’t do that again.”

“You never will have to.  You can always talk to me Eds.”  He meant the words more than anything he’d ever meant in his life. No matter what happened he’d never—couldn’t—shut Eddie out again. “I won’t… I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

Eddie snorted. “Next time you want to sue… just make sure we talk first. I don’t care what it takes but we talk first.”

“Talk first.  Always.”

“Always.”

They both fell silent, the sounds of their breathing the only thing in their ears. 

“Are you ready for today?”  Buck finally asked. 

Eddie huffed. “I was born ready.”

Buck gave a short laugh which made Eddie chuckle down the line, the soft sound soothing Buck’s nerves that still jangled from what they’d just said to one another. Eddie said he’d wait for him… did that mean… He couldn’t mean it like Buck had meant it when he’d said it to Abby.  “You sure?  I could be there in like a day,” he couldn’t help asking again.

“I’m sure.  It… I won’t have you as my partner but I’ll be okay.  I,” Eddie gave a sigh that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul, “I want you back when you’re ready.  Really ready.”

“You sound like Bobby,” Buck couldn’t help adding.  He didn’t mean to sound so cynical but it came through clearly. 

“What do you mean?”  Eddie’s voice rose in puzzlement. 

“Bobby said i wasn’t ready.  Didn’t you know?”

“He said that?  When?” 

Straightening, Buck looked at the comatose Noshimuri who hadn’t moved an inch.  He’d thought Eddie’d known.  That they all knew.  Wasn’t that why… “Bobby was the reason I wasn’t back—why I had to work as a Fire Marshall.”

“What?  When was this?”  Eddie sounded angry now, demanding and indignant on Buck’s behalf. 

“You know I cleared all my recerts and the docs had signed off on me?”

“Well yeah.  Chris and I took you out for ice cream after.”  

That had been a great day.  Buck and Christopher had both gotten three scoops on cones while Eddie had been stuck in his old man ways and gotten fro-yo in a cup as it was less messy.  Christopher had ended up with chocolate and strawberry all over his face and pressed it right into Buck’s new white t-shirt to make a stain he hadn’t been able to wash out (no matter what he’d tried) while Eddie had clucked over them both with wet wipes trying to clean up.  That was the moment when the notification had come through via email on his phone that he’d passed all the tests and even set a few new records. 

Eddie had afterwards sprung for dinner that night at their favorite Mexican hole in the wall taqueria.  They’d all gorged themselves on tacos, chips and salsa in celebration until they’d all had to loosen their belts. 

Licking his lips, Buck tried to find the words to explain.  “Bobby wrote a letter recommending against my return to full duty because of the blood thinners.  It’s…. It’s why the chief was keeping me on desk duty.”

“What?”  Eddie’s shock was clear—he hadn’t known.  How had he not known.  “He did what?”

“I couldn’t go back to work because of Bobby’s recommendation… and I only found out later by accident.” Eddie was swearing in Spanish too quickly and softly for Buck to translate. “Eds—“

“That’s why you sued isn’t it?  That’s why it was both Bobby and the department.”

“Yeah,” he confessed softly.  “I didn’t… I just… I just wanted to come back to my family and he wouldn’t let me…”

“And even now he wasn’t—I wasn’t… fuck. I’m an asshole Buck.”

“Back to Buck are we?”

“Don’t.  I…. “ more muffled swearing before Eddie’s voice came back clear.  “I’m sorry.  I’m an asshole and I’m sorry and I… Jesus Ev.”

Ev was new.  He liked it more than he should coming from Eddie. “I forgive you.”  

“You shouldn’t… I was… fuck.  I’m just as bad as him.”

“I’m going to forgive you anyways and you’re not.  You’re not Bobby.  You’re…” Buck struggled to find the right label. “You’re my best friend Eds.  I’ve never had one before you or like you.”

“I’ve been so stuck on my own crap that I forgot about yours.” 

That was unfair.  Buck had been too caught up in his own problems first—he couldn’t blame Eddie for doing the same.  He had Christopher to think of… but that had sounded like a confession—an unnecessary one.  Eddie didn’t need to be sorry for taking care of himself and Christopher. Buck had been exhausting.  That’s what Eddie had called him and it’d been painfully accurate. 

“I know.  I forgot you had problems too and that.. I’m trying to be less.. exha—selfish,” he corrected at the last minute to not try and throw Eddie’s words back at him.  That encounter in the grocery store when Eddie had called him out had been the shock he’d needed to realize how blind he’d been and self-centered.  Eddie had been right and he’d needed to get his head out of his ass at the time. 

“You’re not exhausting.  I’m sorry I ever said that to you.  And you’re not selfish either.  You’re one of the most giving and selfless people I know.”

Buck fell silent.  What was there to say?  He wanted to hear Eddie say those things but he wasn’t sure he could believe him. Eddie had been right that day. Buck had been so focused on getting his job back that he’d ignored the collateral damage he’d been creating. 

“You’re not exhausting Evan.  You’re… you’re my partner that watches my back and if Bobby was stopping you from being right next to me then I get why you sued.  I wish I’d known but… well I get why you didn’t.”

“I thought you agreed with him.  All of you stopped talking to me and the next thing I knew we were sitting at that table with Mackey and I—“

“Stop.  Did that ambulance chasing lawyer ever tell you we weren’t supposed to talk to you?”

“No?” Buck felt stupid all the sudden.  “I didn’t…”

“The first thing the union rep did was pull us all aside and tell us that we weren’t to contact you or say anything to you or we’d be potentially liable… they implied that because Bobby was named we were all in danger of being added to the lawsuit instead of just being witnesses.”

“I didn’t know Eds.  I… you never answered my text.”  Buck had sent a text the day after he’d signed the paperwork to file the lawsuit.  It’d been how he couldn’t watch Chris on Wednesday because something came up.  The something had been a new medical clearance appointment with a different doctor as a second opinion.  He hadn’t wanted to put it in a text message after Mackey had given him instructions to be careful what he said to anyone about the lawsuit. He’d just assumed Eddie had taken Bobbie’s side because nobody had ever chosen him first before. 

He’d assumed instead of talking to Eddie. 

Oh god….

No wonder Eddie had broken off contact. Buck had been the biggest idiot…

“Evan—are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t just tell the rep to go stick it.  I’m sorry I listened to them.”

“I didn’t know—I just… I just wanted to come home and Bobby told me I couldn’t.”

“And then when you finally got home we were all assholes to you.”

“You weren’t.  I.. I broke your trust.  I left you.”

“You didn’t really.  We both did things—said things—we didn’t mean.  Can we,” Eddie’s voice broke just a tiny bit, “can we just agree that it’s in the past and that what matters is we both talk going forward? I can’t… I can’t lose talking to you Ev.  Not again.”

“I can promise that. No matter what we talk. You and me—we’ve got each other’s backs always right?”

“Always.  I will always have your back Ev.  You tell me when and where and I’ll be there—but I want to give you the time you need to heal.  I… “

“You what?”

“I think I need to work on myself for a bit. I messed up without you when I couldn’t talk to you. I don’t want you to get dragged into this mess with me.”

“But that’s why we have each other’s backs Eddie.  If you need me there I’m there.  I can hop a flight and I’ll be there—just give me a few hours to figure out which one.”

“I want you to… but I don’t… I need to prove to both of us that I can do this Ev.”

“Without me?”  

“Frank said I’m like a grenade. I… need to figure out… I don’t… I’ve been bottling things up and they got out of control. I don’t want you punished for my mistakes.  I don’t want that happening again.”

“But i wouldn’t be.”

“Maybe,” Eddie allowed. “But I want you back only when you’re ready. I’ll be ready then too and maybe it’ll give me enough time to get my head back on straight.”

“If you need me,” Buck tried to argue again but was cut off.

“I will always need you Ev.  Always.  But I also know you needed a break from being here—partly because of me and how I was to you.  And I will wait for you for however long you need me to wait.”

“What if I don’t want to come back?”  As soon as he asked the question he knew it was a lie. He desperately wanted to come back.  Hawaii and 5-0 were great but they weren’t home.  They weren’t Eddie and Christopher.  They weren’t Maddie and Chim.  They weren’t the rest of his extended 118 family.   He wanted to ask Steve if he could transplant himself to LA—maybe Hondo could talk SWAT into hiring Steve but that would mean Danny would be here because of his kids and he couldn’t ask that of Steve.  

Eddie had inhaled sharply at the question but he was careful when he answered, his response interrupting Buck’s thought process. “If that’s… if you figure out that this isn’t where… that the 118 isn’t… we will figure out what to do then.”

“We will?”  Buck’s heart skipped a beat.  We?

“We’ll figure it out.”  Eddie was firm but didn’t explain further sending Buck’s thoughts spiraling in all new directions.  We??  What did Eddie mean by using we?  Would he follow—that was ridiculous.  Eddie had Abuela and Pepa in addition to the 118.  He’d only been in LA for less than two years including the academy but he’d been settling down. 

What did Eddie mean by using we??  And what did he mean he would wait?  Did he mean it like he had when he’d… no.  

Eddie couldn’t—right?  There was no way…

“Eds,” He called Eddie’s name roughly, his voice hoarse. He needed to know what he meant.

“I just need to be able to talk and I’ll be okay here until you are ready.”

Ready for what? What did Eddie mean?  He was so confused but not sure how to ask for clarification.  He’d wanted to wait to have this conversation and now they were talking and he just didn’t know what to do so he wouldn’t screw them up again. 

The sound of Eddie’s alarm going off was audible through the phone and Buck glanced at the time on the heart monitor.  He was exhausted and they’d been talking the whole half hour of Eddie’s early morning free time. “You have to get Chris up.”

The sigh was softer this time, reluctant. “Yeah.  FaceTime tomorrow night?”

“Yeah,” he couldn’t help but agree. Maybe by then he’d figure out how to ask his questions once Chris was asleep. 

“You good?”  Eddie hadn’t gone—he was still on the line. “Ev?”

“I’m… I’m going to be okay.”  He would be.  Eddie wanted to give him time for himself—even if he wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that.  He didn’t want to make a mistake like he had before with Shannon.  Buck could do this for Eddie because Eddie needed him to. 

“Going to be?”

“Will be. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“I’m only a phone call away if you need me.  I’ll have my phone on me all day.”

“Bobby won’t like it on calls,” Buck habitually warned him. 

“Tough.  If he asks I’ll say Frank said I needed to have an open line of communication with you.”

“Did he actually say that?”

“It was implied.”

Snorting, Buck pulled himself back. “Be careful out there without me.”

“Didn’t you hear me?  You’re always with me.”

“Still.  Eds—please be careful without me physically there to watch your back?”

“Always. I’m probably going to be man behind anyways.”

They both fell silent.  Eddie was now also on Bobby’s shit list. Today was unlikely to be fun for Eddie after a two week suspension. 

“You be careful as well,” Eddie finally said, reluctant to hang up. 

“I will.  Always.”

“Talk tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow,” Buck promised before he hit the button to hang up. 

He had approximately a day and a half to figure out how to ask Eddie to explain what he’d said. 

Scratch that—he’d have to think about it later.  Noshimuri’s eyes were open and they were both focused on Buck, his mouth trying to move around the tube.  Fumbling for his phone, he managed to hit dial. 

“Steve?  He’s awake.”

***

I picked up the pieces when I woke

Put them in a boat made of things I don’t wanna see

I blew on the sail

Watched it drift out to sea

The further it drifted the closer it came to me

I can’t explain

 

Danny

It’d taken everything in him the last few days to hold onto his fraying temper.

Danny felt like he’d aged years in the last week with Kono missing.  Buck had taken to standing guard over Adam like he felt it was his personal penance to make sure nothing further happened, the bags under his eyes getting more pronounced from sleeping in a hospital chair. Chin was silent as ever but now it was colder than the arctic and his attention focused solely on combing through every camera on Oahu trying to glean where she’d been taken, movements precise other than the slight tremor to his fingers that showed how he was barely holding on. 

And Steve…. Steve was worse than he’d ever been. 

Danny would have expected some rough handling of their usual informants.  Would have before this.  Now that Steve knew someone in HPD had helped Sang Min wander away and Kono was missing?  

The gloves had truly and fully come off. 

Danny knew his efforts to keep Steve in check were starting to become perfunctory at best.  He wanted Kono back home just as bad and his own patience was shot. Grace knew her auntie Kono wasn’t on vacation and his darling daughter had stuck her own knife in when she’d made him promise to find her, Charlie crying and wanting his favorite auntie in the background. 

She’d also done it right in front of Steve on purpose. Sometimes his daughter was too much his daughter and her instincts on how to get what she wanted were getting sharper as she edged closer to being a full fledged teenager. 

That had been the night Steve had disappeared into the darkness and hadn’t come home until morning with bruised knuckles and a scrape on his face that looked like it came from a close encounter with concrete. 

Danny may have played dumb when Duke reported a suspicious string of shakedowns on Oahu’s less than legal businesses the night prior. He’d patched Steve up with only a few grumbles about being more careful next time. Where was he going to get another partner at his age?  He didn’t want to break someone new in. 

That had at least cracked through the facade Steve had created around himself to try and keep the hurt at bay.  His fingers had curled in Danny’s shirt to tug him closer and he’d let himself wrap his arms around Steve, feeling the trembling muscles under his hands still as Steve nuzzled into his neck to hide for just a minute from the hunt. 

Danny’s habit of worrying was working overtime this week. 

Despite shaking down what felt like the entire island, they still had had no good leads. 

Kono had vanished without a trace. 

Danny hoped Adam would wake up soon and be able to tell them what had happened.  HIs dramatic fainting in front of them all had been an attention grabber but it hadn’t told them anything about where Kono had gone. 

Making an executive decision, he stopped at Liliha for coco puffs as well as a to go box of Kona coffee. He’d make an offering of carbs, sugar and caffeine to try and keep them all functional.  

It’d been over a week and they were all running on fumes. 

Buck was already in the office when Danny arrived, staring intently at the footage for the HPD short term lock up. It took Danny a moment but he realized the kid was back tracking every person who’d come in and out of the cell block through the maze that was HPD.   It would be difficult enough if you knew the place well but Buck had a blueprint schematic up on another screen so he could follow each person.

The circles under the kid’s eyes were a bit more bruised looking today but he had showered—his hair still was damp even if he hadn’t bothered shaving. The t-shirt he was wearing was a generic HPD one they kept in the locker room and Danny could recognize that he’d also borrowed a pair of Steve’s cargo pants as they were a few inches short giving a good view of a scarred ankle. 

“Coco puffs?” He offered roughly, disturbing Buck’s focus. 

It said a lot about how deeply focused Buck was that it took him a moment of looking at the proper open box of puff pastries for him to realize what he was looking at.  Danny shook the box for emphasis, encouraging Buck to take one. “C’mon.  You need the calories.  When was the last time you ate something?”

“I had a pop tart out of the vending machine,” Buck grumbled as he took one.  

“Take two.  And don’t think I’m not making sure you actually eat lunch later. Both you and Steve don’t eat when you’re stressed.”

Rolling his eyes, Buck stuffed one of the puffs in his mouth in one go, cheeks bulging obnoxiously as he chewed. 

“Neanderthals. Both you and Steve.”

“We are not,” Steve protested from behind him, the touch of his hand at Danny’s hip stopping him from fully startling and jumping.  Steve’s ninja habits meant that he liked to approach silently from behind before his other arm snuck around to grab one of the pastries.  You would think that Danny would be used to being snuck up on multiple times a day but it still made him jump a little and his heart rate skyrocket for just a few seconds before tripping back down to a normalish rate. 

Steve made a point of shoving the entire coco puff in like Buck had and obnoxiously chewing right next to Danny’s ear, eyes laser focused on Danny as he did so. 

He still hadn’t released his hold on Danny’s hip though. 

When he’d first met Steve, he’d been constantly flinching when Danny would reach out and touch him—being naturally a more touchy feely man than the Navy.  That was just the way Danny was with everyone and Steve had taken the invasion of his personal space with confusion and there’d been a few moments where Danny was pretty sure he’d been a millisecond away from being face down and pinned.  It was very obvious to Danny that Steve had a long term case of touch starvation as he was pretty sure that once Doris McGarrett faked her death and Steve was sent to the mainland the only touching Steve got was when he got laid or the occasional pat on the back from a teammate. 

Which was sad and infuriated Danny to no end when he thought of if. 

However, over time, Steve had stopped flinching every time Danny touched him (and then leaning into it which had never escaped Danny’s notice) and started initiating it more and more. But only with Danny.  Sure Steve would hug Kono and occasionally Chin or shoulder bump them but the hand on the hip to guide or the arm draped across the back of the chair?  That was a move he only did with Danny.

Hell—when Danny stayed over and they watched late night tv or sat out on the Adirondack chairs with a few beers they all but cuddled especially if they had more than just one or two beers.  

There were times Danny thought that maybe he was misinterpreting things.  That Steve wasn’t still hung up on Catherine moving on or Freddie’s death (and wasn’t that an unresolved unrequited mess) but Steve would be oblivious when he tried to signal that maybe he was interested in more or he misinterpreted Danny’s interest as being directed at any female around them if they happened to be in public.

If Danny wasn’t so sure Steve didn’t know he was doing it half the time he’d be infuriated. Mostly he was frustrated and sad. Luckily he did have his own hand to keep himself company when it’d been a long day. 

There was also every other Tuesday when he wanted to find whatever safe house Doris McGarrett was holed up in and have a very stern conversation with her about how her parenting techniques and how much she’d fucked up Steve (and John and Mary) by faking her death and leaving them. She hadn’t done Steve any favors either now that she intermittently came back into his life when it was convenient for her and dragging trouble in her wake. 

Doris McGarrett was never going to be one of Danny’s favorite people and he had a strict suspicious-and-on-high-alert policy for whenever she dropped in any more.  It probably didn’t help that he hated how she dragged Steve into trouble and left him emotionally distraught every time. 

Danny hated seeing Steve after a Doris episode. 

Buck might not be genetically related to Steve but he was a lot like him in so many ways.  Genetics be damned the navy liked to collect damaged boys and turn them into even more damaged adults. 

A few days ago, Danny had managed to surreptitiously watch Buck talk on the phone with his Eddie and Steve’s reaction to it made him want to wack both of them upside the head and then maybe explain how they both were being obtuse idiots who were both in desperate need of better parental figures in their life if this is how they went about things. 

Buck was in love with Eddie Diaz—full-stop.  Do not pass go head over heals pining in love with him.  Danny got that circumstances and life were maybe less than ideal but he’d gotten a sneak peak from an angle on how Diaz looked at Buck through FaceTime and it was definitely mutual.  The amount of soft Bambi heart eyes that man threw at Buck was telling as was the way he let his kid and Buck talk.  

A nighttime call to the ‘Diaz boys’ as Buck called them made the kid’s shoulders a little bit less rigid for at least a few hours. Kinda like how Steve was when he spent time with Danny and his kids. 

Anyways, Steve hadn’t released his hold on his hip and Danny was a bit distracted by it.  The way the fingertips found the small grove where bone and muscle met and curled in to latch on that even through the fabric of his pants made him want to press into it pathetically but that wasn’t something he was allowed to do. 

“—Chin is watching over him until he wakes back up but they took the breathing tube out.”

“What?”  Danny had missed something. 

“Adam’s awake,” Steve said, finally releasing Danny to move around the table toward Buck as he snagged the coffee out of his hands and headed towards the coffee mugs they kept to the side printed with an HPD badge with 5-0 and their names on each one.  Buck’s mug had just arrived from the printers yesterday and Steve began pouring everyone a cup. 

“When did he wake up?”  How had Danny missed this news?

“This morning when I was on the phone with Eddie,” Buck muttered as he accepted his coffee cup from Steve.  The small smile as he saw it was his with his name on it was cute.  

“Is he talking?”

“The docs felt good enough to pull the breathing tube,” Buck said with a shrug. “He was pretty out of it after.  The nurses said it’ll take a bit for the sedation to wear off but he was following commands and asking for water when he was awake.”

“They give you an idea how long?” Steve asked, handing Danny his own mug. 

Buck shrugged. “A few hours?  Chin showed up and said he’d stand watch.  I figured…”. Buck gave Steve an expectant look.

“Yeah. Chin’s going to want to hear what he has to say as soon as possible.”

“Which means he’s going to stare at Adam until he’s fully awake,” Danny surmised aloud. 

Both seals shrugged in agreement. “Did you find anything?” Steve asked Buck, changing topics. 

“Maybe?”  Buck said as he turned back to the computer table. “I was looking for anyone in the cell block that didn’t have a good reason to.  I’ve traced back every person in and out of there as well as any phone calls made from either landlines or cell phone tower data that could be localized to HPD.”

“And what did you find?” Danny prodded. Buck was just as much a sponge of random information as Steve was—they really were two peas in a pod he’d learned since Buck had arrived. 

The two officers who have desks here,” Buck pointed on the schematics to a corner of the detective’s bullpen, “and here both made texts to the same unlisted number. One an hour after we dropped off Sang Min and another about fifteen minutes before he went missing with Kono.”

“That’s Mahoe’s desk,” Danny recognized the first one as Detective Kai Mahoe.  He worked mostly robbery cases so he didn’t usually have much to do with 5-0.  The other one he was less familiar with.  “I thought that other one was empty?”

“No—it’s Iona’s desk.  He was on leave for a while.”

“Leave for what?” Buck asked. 

Steve shrugged. “Never asked when Duke mentioned it.”

“Iona’s what?  He’s the liaison with the DEA?  Narcotics?”

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed. “I had to go through my Navy contacts on that smuggling case Duke caught because Iona was out.”

“So we got a narcotic’s guy who basically rides a desk and Mahoe who does robbery/homicide emphasis on the robbery… both texting an unknown number individually at suspicious times,” Danny summarized.

“Yeah.  I’ve sent a request for the text messages to the phone company.  Should be back in an hour.”

“So while we wait… what other moves did Iona and Mahoe make while on shift?” Danny asked Buck. 

Swiping the screen caused two tracings to overlay the blueprint with lines going back and forth across the corridors and into the bullpen.  The yellow one made several trips past the guard station at the front of the cell block but didn’t go in. The Green one went in once then doubled back before reaching the cell that Sang Min had been in but close enough that from Danny’s recollection you would be able to see in to identify whoever was in that cell.  “Yellow is Iona.  Green is Mahoe.  They overlap their routes but I can’t find them talking to each other.  If anything… they’re avoiding each other.  Both of them were at work late and Iona came in early—just before the jailbreak but he’s sitting at his desk when it happens not anywhere near Kono and is in the copy room when she left according to the cameras.”

“Interesting,” Steve observed. “It’s almost like he knew where not to be but was available to help if someone caused trouble.”

Danny studied the information. The part of him that liked rules and following regulations said they should be flagging this for IA and handing it over.  The louder part of him who hated IA with a passion didn’t want to share but knew if they started requesting things like financials on members of HPD they’d be getting a visit from them sooner or later. 

“We need financials,” he finally said.  “Looking for payoffs.”

“But is this enough?” Buck’s eyes were really bright blue Danny noted. 

“It’s enough for us,” Steve interjected. “Put the request in.”

“What about the girl?”  Buck asked.

“The jewelry shop one?”

“Yeah her.  Kono was following her right?  When whatever happened to Adam to make her get Sang Min out.”

They’d had someone tailing Keiko ‘Aukai ever since.  There’d been noting noteworthy other than the woman had expensive tastes but otherwise wasn’t exciting or even that far outside of normal.  They’d had to enlist a few of Kono’s old academy friends who’d been willing to help out off the clock as they were short manpower and hadn’t wanted Duke’s official help.  Duke was running his own query in the background but he was keeping things low key until they had more on Kono’s whereabouts as they didn’t want to spook anyone into running.  “We keep having her tailed for now but we follow these other leads first.  If she does anything unusual we’ll be watching.”

Steve looked like he might disagree with him for a split second then nodded in agreement. “Keep digging and get the financials—start looking for payoffs.  Chin will let us know as soon as Adam’s able to talk.”

“What are you going to do?” Danny asked rhetorically as Buck leaned back into the table to go back to his tracing. 

“I’m going to make a few phone calls,” Steve tossed over his shoulder as he headed for his office and closed the door. 

Looking between Buck’s ducked head and Steve’s closed door, Danny sighed and went to his own office to put in the request for the warrant for financial records.  He needed to figure out how to get both seals through this.

***

Encountering more than the usual red tape, it took him about twenty phone calls to finally get his hands on the bank records for both of the detectives as well as personnel files and background checks. Mahoe had been a detective for only a few years and his closure rate was less than stellar but he’d been hired because of family ties from what Danny could see after Steve had Shanghai’d him into 5-0.  He was married and had two kids—both in their mid teens but they both went to the Kamehameha school instead of one of the public schools and would be looking at college in a few years.  Wife worked hospitality of some sort for one of the big chain hotels and made less than Mahoe.

Kamehameha was expensive—and exclusive—but not evidence of wrongdoing. Tuition payments for the last several years had been steady for both children with a minor adjustment each year except for the last year. 

The last year the amount had gone up significantly but there were deposits of cash made before each deduction. Somehow Mahoe was coming up with almost all of the cost of tuition where before his family had qualified for student aid. 

That was a possible stress point. Danny had known cops who’d done things for worse reasons than their children’s education.  If it wasn’t for Stan’s greater income making Rachel’s income higher he would have likely had to pull Grace out of her fancy private school and put her in public—which he didn’t have a problem with other than she’d have had to leave all her friends and he hadn’t wanted to do that.  

He might be finally learning what arguments not to pick with Rachel. They had other, more important things to fight about other than Grace’s academics. Lucky for him she currently was giving him a small grace period (hah!) because she knew Kono was missing. 

Other than the increases in tuition payments Danny couldn’t find anything immediately out of line on Mahoe’s records. 

Iona on the other hand… was much more suspicious. 

The time away had been a suspension for gambling—illegal gambling.  Iona had a habit of making bad sport bets and choosing slow ponies. He’d been in to the bookies for a good twenty grand before his lieutenant had caught on and suspended him, making him get help.

Which was all fine and dandy—Danny believed that it was possible to change and all. He just had a hefty amount of skepticism about success rates. 

Iona had spent some time in a therapy program during his suspension and received clearance to return back to work but he’d had to make significant repayments to get out of debt that had been consolidated into a bank loan that his lieutenant had vouched for him to get. He didn’t own his home and he drove a HPD unmarked instead of having his own car. Retirement savings had been cleaned out five years ago in a divorce and the paperwork from that cited his ex-wife had gotten tired of the gambling and wanted out. 

Iona worked narcotics—infamous for busts with money and drugs that officers and detectives handled. Back in Jersey some of the narcotic squads had been infamous for taking tips from their busts to pad their own lifestyles.  After Chin’s experience with IA Danny had kept a wary eye on them anytime they showed up but he hadn’t heard the same about HPD and money. 

So where was Iona getting the money?  He lived in a crummy apartment complex whose rent was almost half his paycheck.  He spent the remainder eating takeout and on bar tabs. 

When Danny did his math he was coming up short against Iona’s monthly paycheck. 

He was getting cash somewhere if he was still making those loan payments—which there was no default or missed payment notice on his credit history so he’d sent a query to the loan servicer to see how the payments were being made. 

Danny’s money was on cashier’s checks that could be gotten by exchanging cash.  The payments were just big enough to be spread over five years but not small enough to not be a reach with Iona’s current lifestyle. 

It wasn’t that much money… but it was enough that it could probably be covered by being an informant if you were cheap. 

And Iona—from the looks of his records—was cheap. 

A soft knock on the doorframe had him looking up.  Steve was watching him calmly. 

“Find something?”

“Yeah.  There’s a money trail.  Not definitive but it’s there.  Both of them are getting money from somewhere that I can’t account for.”

“Cash?”

“Probably. No electronic records so it’s a good bet.”

“Smart,” Steve allowed.

“But still leaves a trace these days by it’s absence.  How’d the phone calls go?”

Aneurysm face made an unexpected appearance and Steve’s eyes looked blankly into the distance. “If you know who to contact there’s contacts out there for tips and informing.”

“And did you find anything to link our two suspects?”

A twist of the mouth in dissatisfaction. “Yes and no.  I might have found more officers on the take. Or it might be a false lead. Kawika wasn’t happy to talk about it.”

“I’m surprised he talked to you at all, babe.”

“He likes me better than you,” Steve teased.  

“Not that much,” Danny argued. 

Steve dropped the subject in favor of lunch. “You hungry?  I sent Buck out to Kamekona’s.”

On cue, Danny’s stomach gurgled. “You tell him to get my usual?”

“Yeah. I told him to make sure he got double for all of us.  You’re looking a bit thin and so is he.”

“None of us are sleeping or eating well.  Not while Kono’s out there.”

Steve was silent for a moment. “I talked to Chin.  Adam woke up for a brief while then was out again twice but it was longer the second time but he had a lot of pain so the pain meds knocked him out.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Just kept repeating Kono’s name.”

That was terrible.  Despite his own family origins Adam truly did adore and love Kono—and she him.  They’d had a rough start but Danny had thought they were in the clear after the whole yakuza thing.  Kono would do anything for any one of them but the thought of Adam being used against her… 

“Who do you think did this?” Danny asked Steve.

Steve sat on the corner of Danny’s desk. “I don’t know.  Sang Min isn’t this organized and…”

“He does have a weird sense of honor but he has it.  And he likes Kono.  He wouldn’t have done that to Adam.”

“No.” Steve’s frown deepened. “Do you remember what got him to cooperate the first time?”

“Yeah.  You threatened his wife and son.”  Danny did remember that.  Steve had been relentless then but surprisingly it had made Sang Min seem to respect him for leaving his family out of things once he’d cooperated—or at least cooperated until the next time he had the opportunity to skip out on them.  Whoever he was working for now was more violent and less restrained.  “Do you think…” he trailed off.

“He moved his son and wife to the mainland before he skipped out of his trial last year.”

“Ah.  I was going to say are we watching them?”

“I have Hondo’s team keeping an eye out.  They’re in LA.  He said there’s been nothing since he started watching.”

“Another one of your calls?”

“Yeah.  And checking up on Buck’s Eddie.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Deacon says he’s working on things, doing the therapy he’s required to do.”

Danny eyed the computer table—Buck was still out.  “You listen in on the night calls?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No… or at least not on purpose. Buck takes them in the kitchen a lot which I know you know.”

This was true. That’d been how he’d noticed how Eddie looked at Buck. “He talk about them after?”

“Sometimes.  He misses them.”

“You think he’ll choose to go home eventually?”

A grimace and a shrug. “Buck’s got options.  He’s always welcome here.  I think he’s fitting in well.”

“He’s a good man,” Danny agreed. “Not sure he loves police work like he does being a firefighter though.”  When asked, Buck was always ready with a story about some impossible rescue or stunt he’d pulled.  The names of his coworkers were becoming so familiar to Danny that he felt he knew them personally. 

That didn’t mean he still wasn’t on Buck’s side though.  How anyone could have pushed the kid away… 

“I know.  I just… I’m taking him to talk to Mamo after we eat.”

“You could just set him up with a normal therapist…”

“No,” Steve’s negative reply was a bit abrupt and he colored slightly, twitching when Danny looked at him for an explanation. “Buck had a bad experience with a therapist in LA.”

“Explain.”

“She wouldn’t sign off on him going back to work unless he slept with her.”

Danny goggled at Steve. “Babe that’s…”

“Sexual assault? Rape?” Steve snapped. “I mean… he seems like that’s not… that’s not what he’s really struggling with but Mamo is safe.  I trust Mamo.”

“Do we know who it was?”

The dark look Steve gave him was like a gathering storm. “I asked Hondo to look into it when I talked to him today.”

“Did you tell Buck?  Ask him?”

“No.” Steve jutted out his chin mulishly. “Hondo promised they’d keep Buck out of it.  If she did it to him she probably did it to more than just him.”

“You need to tell him Babe.  He trusts you but you need to tell him you’re having Hondo look into it.”

“Hondo’ll keep him out of it.”

“These things have a tendency to leak out—people talk Babe.” Steve wouldn’t look at him. “Babe.”

“How did I not notice he was doing so bad?” Steve asked, voice thick with restraint. “How did no one notice?”

“He didn’t want you to know Babe.  He was taking care of it he thought until he was over his head. That’s part of what you do as an adult.”

“But we—I would have been there.  Hondo. Me.  He has people.”  Steve stood abruptly and began pacing in the small space between door and desk. 

“Yeah—and some of those people are the ones who weren’t talking to him.  You can’t blame him for being worried you’d do the same.”  Buck’s LA family had been on the outs with him.  It made sense to Danny that he hadn’t reached out to anyone more distant. 

Steve stopped and turned to face Danny. “He was one of my team.  He’s… he’s the closest thing I have to… Freddie called him our kid brother. That’s how he got stuck being called Kid.  I would have been there if I knew.  Freddie would have…”

“Would have what?”

“He’d haunt me forever if I didn’t.”

Danny’s stomach twisted a bit at the mention of Freddie.  He sometimes forgot that Steve had had Freddie before them.  Had lost him too.  “Babe… remember how you were when we first met?  You never called for backup.”

“You were my backup.  I had you.  I didn’t need anyone else.”

“Well as flattering as that is… I still think waiting for SWAT or at least leaving a trail to follow is good policy.”

His joke fell flat between them, Steve was hurting because Buck had been hurt. He’d been hiding it but it seemed to be opening up old wounds again. Combine that with Kono missing and Adam in the hospital… 

“Steve—we’re here for him now.  That’s what matters.  He’s getting support.. and so is Eddie.”

Steve’s jaw clenched at Eddie’s name but he was listening. “You think that…?”

“That Buck and Eddie are,” Danny waved his hand trying to pick the right term, “you can see it right?  I mean the way Eddie looks at him?  The way Buck talks about him?”

Chewing on his lip, Steve gave a small nod. “They’re not there yet.”

“No.  But they will be if it’s meant to be.”

“Right.”  

Buck must have forgotten his ninja training or he’d been better adapted to the civilian world as the sound of his shoes on the floor announced his arrival. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Danny made him promise.

“Lunch is here!”

***

So I took it apart in a billion boxes

There was only one thing

You might think I’m your enemy

But that don’t make you mine

And all I have now is above thee

I wish that you’d stop trying

Oh, please stop lying

Stop la la la la la la la la la

La ta ta ta

 

Eddie

Today was his first day back at work and he hadn’t been this nervous on his actual first day.  The last few sessions he’d had with Frank had been hard.  The amount of self-examination he’d done in the last two weeks was enormous and he still felt off-kilter but he was damned if he was going to let that show.  Frank’s words about how he couldn’t just contain everything and keep shoving it into a box was bound to eventually explode and do damage. 

Like a grenade.

Like the grenade he’d pulled out of that retired teacher’s leg that time with Buck when he’d realized he could trust him to have his back.  

Like how they’d both just managed to get out of the ambulance before it exploded but they’d been far enough away that they hadn’t been injured by it. 

Eddie’s life felt like a grenade—under pressure and rotating again and again until he would lose control again. 

Tick tock. Tick tock. 

Frank had told him he had to find safer ways of releasing that pressure that he’d built up.  That if he didn’t that timer was ticking down and Eddie’s life exploded again.  Did he want to get hurt again?  Did he want to hurt others?

No.  No Eddie did not want that.  He hated part of what he’d become lately. He wanted to just stop being angry. 

Frank’s question had been, “So how do you stop?”

How do you stop?

The question circled in his brain as he did housework. Scrubbing at the stubborn soap scum in the corner of the shower with the brush the slight rasp of bristles on grout repeating it endlessly

How do you stop?

It was there when Deacon stopped by to check on him and had bullied him into going running with the man to burn some energy.  Each rhythmic thump of his shoes on the concrete repeating it again and again. 

How do you stop?

How do you stop?

How do you stop?

It was there at night when Christopher was asleep and he couldn’t sleep. The white of his ceiling blank and offering no answers to the question. 

How do you stop?

He called Buck.  

Calling Buck stopped the looping feedback of thought he’d been stuck in. 

Talking to Buck was his lifeline. Frank had been right about support people.  Buck was his person. He’d become so emotionally dependent on being able to talk to Buck that the removal of it had caused him to spiral until he found an alternative and less effective outlet in the street fights. 

Frank was also right that talking to Buck was a lot healthier in many ways than getting into illegal street fights.  Eddie’s ribs had finally stopped trying to murder him each time he coughed or took a deep breath sometime in the last few days. 

Then there had been the bombshell that had exploded while talking with Buck this morning.

He’d been without Buck because Bobby had blocked him from returning. 

Eddie didn’t know what to make with that piece of information.

Buck thought he’d known… had thought he’d turned his back on him because he’d agreed with Bobby.   Which he hadn’t—had he made that clear to Buck?  He’d been so knocked off balance by that tidbit that he wasn’t sure he’d made it clear to Buck he would never have stopped talking to him if it hadn’t been for the instructions from the union rep. 

Afterwards… well that had been his fault hadn’t it?

He hadn’t learned anything from his mistakes with Shannon.  

Eddie hadn’t listened.  

He couldn’t believe he’d done that to Buck. 

Hurting Buck was the last thing he’d meant to do but he’d been so caught up in his own cycle of misery and keeping it together that he had. 

Shannon had asked for space to figure things out—he’d give Buck that.  Just a little bit.  Not too much that he’d feel abandoned again.  He’d promised to keep talking hadn’t he?  

Buck had left so he could work things out—figure out what he wanted.  Eddie would give him that but be waiting for when Buck was ready for him again.  He wouldn’t overwhelm him, chase him away further. 

Eddie would be there for Buck whenever he needed him.  He made a silent promise to never stop talking to Buck again no matter what happened. 

Christopher was subdued this morning with him going back to work.  The small wrinkle between his eyes and the scrunch of his nose said he was worrying about Eddie going back to work.  He’d been clingier this week, constantly checking Eddie’s breathing once he realized he’d hurt his ribs. 

Bobby had authorized him being a bit late so he could personally drop Christopher off at school. 

“Ready Mijo?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his own work bag along with Chris’ backpack.

“Yes Dad,” was the soft spoken reply.

Herding Christopher out to the truck, neither of them said anything until they were almost to school.

“Is Bucky coming back?”  Chris asked, fiddling with the end of his seatbelt. 

“He’ll be back when he’s ready,” Eddie managed as he pulled into the half circle drop off area. “He just needs time.”

“Like mom?” Christopher was full on frowning now with a bit of a tremble to his lower lip. 

“Not exactly.  He…” searching for words he didn’t have, Eddie tried his best. “He’s had a lot happen to him this year and sometimes you just need a break before you can get back to everything.”

Chewing on his lip, Christopher made no move to get out of the truck. “How long? When is he going to be back?  I miss him.”

“I miss him too,” Eddie admitted. “Talking helps though and Buck will be back when he’s ready.”

There was a small nod from Chris’ small frame before he fumbled to get the door latch open. Eddie barely stopped himself from running around to open the door, keeping his pace more moderate so he was there to help close it behind Christopher. A brief hug later, his son was off towards the school entrance and greeting his classmates. 

Taking a deep breath, Eddie didn’t move until Christopher was through the door. 

Work.  He had to get through work and then he could think about what Buck had told him. 

***

His first shift back was moderately busy and he was able to shut off his brain for a bit.  He was still held back from the heavy lifting he’d normally do but he was allowed to help especially on medical calls.  

He couldn’t help contrasting every little thing he’d done all day with Buck’s experience and how he’d been left as the man behind more than not.  Eddie was only left behind once all day despite still having bruised ribs that he was barely able to hide by gritting his teeth and powering through working with the jaws that vibrated a lot as he struggled to use them. 

Bobby never would have let Buck do what he was doing. 

Which was the point wasn’t it?

The lawsuit had been over unequal treatment and discrimination—which was still going on.  If Buck had been here today he’d have been held back while Eddie was being given close to his normal workload if not quite everything. 

Hen and Chim had both tried to corner him and ask him what was going on that he’d been suspended for two weeks but it was obvious that Hen had at least an inkling.  Chim had flat out used a fight club reference that had him flinching. 

So his coworkers knew at least a little bit why he hadn’t been around… but did they know the whole truth or an edited version?  

He was afraid to ask. 

Instead he just focused on what was in front of him—doing exactly what Frank had told him not to do.  He contained and boxed off those thoughts and just worked.  He’d volunteered for every crappy chore that was usually shared.  Waxing the engine and the ladder truck?  Done.  Sharpening all the blades they used? Done. Scrubbed the grout lines of the entire shower area and locker rooms?  Done. 

If nothing else the army had taught him about the value of mindless busy work. 

It occurred to him in the third stall—the one furthest from the door—that he’d never ever been called probie except for once on his first day. Never been made to feel like he didn’t belong. Never been isolated by his coworkers. 

No wonder Buck had run away from him them.

He’d never treat Buck like he had ever again.  He’d made a promise to always talk—communicate—from now on. 

Eddie just hoped Buck would give him the chance to prove that. 

He had to…because Eddie didn’t know what he’d do if this was going to be permanent. That comment about not being sure if he could come back hung in the back of his brain worrying him. 

It was late and they’d just come back from a call out to a crash when he got a text he wasn’t expecting from Maddie as he restocked the ambulance. 

Have you talked to Buck lately?  He’s been ignoring my messages.

Eyebrows raised, Eddie didn’t want to touch that one with a hundred foot pole.  He rarely talked to Maddie directly even if he was her brother’s best friend and worked with Chimney. They had each other’s numbers but it was rare for her to reach out and Buck had mentioned that he wasn’t exactly talking to her right now a few days ago because she’d been encouraging him to find something other than being a firefighter and had been disappointed when he’d gone back to work.

Eddie was pretty sure that working for a special task force for a former Seal buddy wasn’t going to be what Maddie had in mind for her brother. He wasn’t going to be the one to spill the beans if she didn’t already know. 

Looking around to see if anyone else was around, he heard more than saw Bobby puttering around the kitchen but Hen and Chim must have both retired to the bunks after that last call.

Unsure what to say, he simply told her the truth—with perhaps a slight cop out. He was okay when I talked to him last but he’s been busy. 

Three dots immediately appeared showing Maddie was typing that came and went for over thirty seconds so it was a surprise when only a single word came through. When?

Huffing, Eddie glared at his phone.   If Buck didn’t want to talk to Maddie he wasn’t going to make him.  On the other hand… he understood she was just worried about him. This morning.  He’s been really busy helping out his old CO.

Eddie was really beginning to hate those three dots as he watched them cycle. 

CO?  Who?  Do you know them?

Nope.  He answered that one truthfully. Buck’s been keeping some long hours.

That was the truth.  He knew Buck had been sleeping at the hospital given the questions he’d kept sending about various medications and other things Eddie had even had to look up to answer questions about.  He hadn’t asked but he knew Buck was avoiding asking his sister the nurse those questions because he hadn’t wanted to argue with her about work. 

Is he okay?

Biting his lip, Eddie held back the automatic response of maybe she could call Buck and ask him.  Buck had mentioned he really only was talking with Eddie and Eddie was going to respect that.  He’d told Buck he’d give him time and space—and part of that would mean keeping Maddie off her brother’s back about work.  

When I talked to him he was doing okay.  Just busy. True yet unrevealing.  

Okay. Thanks for telling me.  If you talk to him… can you ask him to call me?

Sure.  He would pass along the request but he wasn’t going to pressure Buck into doing so. 

***

He was just about done when he heard a pair of footsteps that were too heavy to be his coworkers coming from the open bay doors. Gathering the few extras he needed to put back in the storage cabinet, Eddie poked his head around the door. Deacon and his partner Hondo greeted him.

“Eddie,” Deacon held out his hand to grasp in a friendly shake so Eddie did.  Hondo did the same. 

“Checking up on me?” He asked in confusion. 

“Unfortunately no,” Deacon said even as Hondo went past them to start climbing the stairs towards Bobby’s office. “We need to see the Captain’s files.”

Dropping his voice and looking to see if Hen or Chim had come out of the bunks, Eddie asked, “Why?  Is there something wrong with…um what you did for me?”

“No.” Deacon appeared to internally debate something as they could hear Hondo greeting Bobby, his head cocked as he listened to his partner. “We need to know who in this house has been referred to a counselor and who they’ve seen.”

Eddie frowned.  “Why?”

“There’s been allegations regarding one of the therapists—not Frank,” Deacon assured him. 

“What kind of allegations?”

“Professional misconduct and sexual assault of a patient,” Deacon admitted when Eddie repeated his question. 

“What?”  Eddie was stunned.  Who had… Buck.  It had to be Buck if Deacon and Hondo were here about it—this wasn’t their usual line of business. The anger he’d been trying to bottle down rose swiftly and his vision actually swam as adrenalin flooded his system.  Who was it?  Who’d done that to Buck?  How dare they!

“Eddie.  We’re going to take care of it,” Deacon’s grip on his wrist kept him from moving as he tried to think. “Buck is safe.  Hondo and I are going to take care of this.”

“Yeah but who’s taking care of Buck?”  He asked bitterly. 

“You know he’s getting the time and attention he needs,” Deacon soothed. “This happened a while ago and we just found out about it but we’re going to make sure that it never happens again to anyone.”

There had been this joke Chimney had made a while ago that suddenly made sense. Something about how Buck needed therapy and maybe he shouldn’t sleep with his therapist this time.  Buck had been quiet after the joke for a few minutes while Chim and Hen had teased him about his 1.0 days before he’d forcibly changed the subject.   Eddie had thought it was just more of their ‘little brother Buck’ teasing but now it felt like his heart had been scooped out with a dull knife his chest hurt so much. 

Had Buck… Buck had been… 

Sometimes the teasing—while meant to be lighthearted—could be vicious.  He knew that Hen and Chimney hadn’t meant to be mean but how could they… did they know?  Did Bobby know?

No wonder Buck had thoughts about not coming back. He’d fought so hard to come back to them—his found family since other than Maddie he had no one else to Eddie’s knowledge—and they’d… 

Eddie didn’t blame him at all. He wanted to wrap himself around Buck and protect him from everything.  Buck didn’t deserve… 

“Eddie?” Deacon’s voice cut through his circular thoughts, warm brown eyes worried. “You with me?”

“Yeah.”  It came out hoarse.  “I’m with you.  You… you’re going to make sure you get this… therapist?  That they never do it again?  That they pay?”

“Yes.”  Deacon’s calm assuredness cooled his anger just as quick as it came. 

“You’ll make sure… “

“This therapist will never have a patient again.”

Looking away, Eddie realized he’d balled his hands into fists and he purposefully relaxed them to wrap around himself in a hug. Deacon’s grip on his wrist was transferred to his bicep. “How could they?  Buck’s….how could they?”

“I know,” Deacon simply said before pulling Eddie to him in a hug. It was so unexpected that Eddie simply went with it. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged by anyone else other than Buck, Abuela or Christopher. Maybe Bobby when he’d allowed Christopher to stay after Abuela broke her hip?  Hugs from Buck usually tended to be after one of them did something stupid… he so rarely allowed himself this comfort even if he freely gave them to Christopher.  Hell he hadn’t had sex other than with Shannon in close to a decade. 

Frank was going to have to add touch starved to his list of problems.

Carefully, Eddie let himself sink into Deacon’s hold for just a minute. The way the other man’s muscles engaged to take some of his weight was telling but he didn’t say anything, just kept hugging Eddie. 

“We’ll get them Eddie.  You have my word on that.”

Pulling back just slightly, Eddie looked Deacon in the eyes. “Don’t tell me her name.  I don’t want to know.”

Deacon nodded. “I get it.  Buck’s getting what he needs and so are you.  Let Hondo and me take care of this.”

“Yeah.” 

“You’re off early tomorrow right?  Breakfast on me.”

Eddie snorted and pulled away, Deacon’s arms falling away. He couldn’t decide if Deacon was doing this as a friend or as his parole officer. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything but I think you need a friend.”

Eddie thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Sure. I’m off at 8.”

“Get some sleep then if you can,” Deacon urged as they both heard heavy boots on the stairs.  Hondo was coming back down them, a stack of file folders in his hands. “Text me when you’re leaving.”

“Yeah.”

Hondo gave him a nod of acknowledgement before they both left as quickly as they’d come, no one noticing except for Eddie and Bobby.  The slight noise from above gave away Bobby who was watching Eddie quietly but his expression looked like he was debating saying something.

Eddie didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say.  He needed to think. Bobby’s well meaning intervention wasn’t what he needed to hear right now. 

Picking up the few rolls of gauze and the IV kit he’d dropped, he headed for the storage cupboard. 

***

Having managed to stave off Bobby cornering him for a chat, Eddie practically ran away from work the moment the clock hit 0800.  Before he could text Deacon as he got to his truck he realized the man was already there. 

“Hey—you got your workout clothes with you?”  Deacon asked, leaning against his truck studying Eddie carefully.

“Yeah?”  Eddie did have his kit in his bag.  He’d already done a bit of light lifting since they hadn’t had a call out since 0300. LA for once being relatively quiet was a small mercy. 

“Put them on.  We’re going for a run.”

“I thought we were doing breakfast?”

“Run first.  You look like you need it.”

Eddie didn’t argue. 

Later after he’d been run into the ground by Deacon, he felt steadier as the man plied him with eggs, bacon, toast and hashbrowns with a side of orange juice. The physical exertion had helped and this was the most appetite he’d had in days. 

“You always run when you’re stressed?”

“I figure it’s a healthier reaction,” Deacon allowed as he drank his coffee.  Eddie was sticking with the orange juice in hopes of getting a nap in before having to pick up Christopher from school this afternoon. He hadn’t slept much last night as his brain had wanted to just think and rethink what Deacon had told him while thinking over every joke and reference he’d heard about Buck 1.0.  “And it’s good for the body.”

Eddie figured that made sense. 

“You can ask—I’m not sure how much I can answer but you can ask,” Deacon offered. 

He thought for a moment before answering. “I’m not sure I want to know but on the other hand it’s pretty obvious isn’t it?  I know Buck had sex with a therapist—there’s been enough jokes made that I’ve heard about it… and Buck never wants to talk about it which means he’s either embarrassed by it or…” Eddie took a deep breath, “or ashamed.  I’m not sure which one is better.”

“Does it change your relationship with Buck?”  Deacon asked calmly. 

“No.  He’s my best friend Deacon—I’ve never had anyone else like him. No one comes close.  It… I… don’t ever tell me her name.”  The urge to find out so he could go… he didn’t know… scream at her? Shake her?  How could she do that to Buck?

“Are you worried you’d hurt her?”

“No.” The answer was immediate.  “I just don’t… I don’t hit people who aren’t…”

“Didn’t you get bailed out after a punch in the parking lot?”

Eddie swallowed against the rock that made a sudden appearance in his throat. “Those charges were dropped.”

“Yeah—lucky for you the guy had a habit of picking fights on purpose and they were dropped. How are you sure you won’t hit someone else?  Like this therapist?”

“Because I am never going to do that again.”  He wasn’t.  While the temptation was there he wasn’t going to be that kind of man who used his fists.  The shame of having given in even temporarily to the release of the fight club still threatened to overwhelm him at times but it was getting slightly better with talking to Frank but mostly it was talking again with Buck.  “If I don’t know their name then I don’t have even the temptation.”

“Smart.” Deacon drained his coffee cup and held it out for the waitress to refill. He waited until she had left their table to ask his next question. “So what are you going to do now that you know?”

“Nothing.  I’m going to let you do your cop thing.”

“And Buck?”

“What about him?”

“Does this change anything about your relationship with him?”

“No.  If Buck ever wants to talk about it then I’ll listen. “

Deacon hummed as he took another drink.  The way he was looking at Eddie over the rim of his coffee cup made him want to squirm but he held still. “If you ever need to talk know that I’m available.”

“Frank’s going to think you’re gunning for his job,” Eddie tried to joke. 

Deacon shrugged. “Sometimes you need a friend instead of a therapist.”

“A friend who’s a cop? My pseudo parole officer?”

Another shrug. “If nothing else I’ll remind you to keep things legal.”

“Yeah right,” Eddie grumbled which made Deacon laugh. “Let’s talk about something else.  How’s the kids?”

Deacon allowed the change of topic and they fell into a normal conversation. It was nice having someone who wasn’t in the 118 to talk to who was neutral about things in the firehouse. Deacon was nonjudgmental and had his own crazy stories as a SWAT officer.  Eddie couldn’t help but notice how many of his stories included Hondo and his team that seemed a found family just like the 118 did for Eddie.  There were a lot of similarities between them as well as differences. 

The conversation ebbed and flowed naturally.  Before he knew it, Eddie was agreeing to doing it again after his next shift.   A run followed by breakfast.   He briefly felt guilty for not running home to see Christopher for two minutes and when he mentioned it Deacon amended their plans to allow him to do so like it was no big deal. 

The parted afterwards—Deacon to work and Eddie home.  He had a therapy appointment this afternoon before picking up Christopher. 

***

He managed a short, restful nap before his therapy appointment with Frank where he had a tough conversation about how to support Buck if he’d been assaulted like Eddie feared.   Frank listened as he talked through his fears and worries about how he didn’t want to make Buck feel fragile or like he had to be ashamed with Eddie.

“Do you feel like he should be?” Frank asked.

“No.  Buck’s… the fact that he was put in a position where he was… taken advantage of?  I hate that.  I hate that he was hurt that way.”

“You don’t like it when Buck is hurt?  Is it different if it’s him or say a different coworker that you’re close with?”

“It’s different because it’s Buck,” Eddie admitted.  “I… I know he doesn’t need my protection but I want to.  I want to protect him.  Hen and Chim… they’ve teased him about it before and I never realized until Deacon and Hondo showed up to get files that… that he might… it’s rape right?  If you can’t say no?”

“Do you know for sure what happened?”

“No.  I mean… nobody has flat out said exactly what happened but I can connect dots.  Buck slept with his therapist before I joined the 118.  Deacon said they were looking at a therapist for ‘professional misconduct and sexual assault’ and it was someone that the 118 had referred to if they were there for files and I don’t know who else Deacon would personally be involved in their case other than Buck.  He’s SWAT.”

“That’s pretty serious allegations.”

“Yeah.  And they teased him about it—Buck.  I could tell… Buck didn’t like it when they did.  He doesn’t like it in general when they bring up his 1.0 days.”

“1.0?”

“Yeah like he upgraded himself to Buck 2.0 after Abby.”  Eddie rubbed at his face, suddenly exhausted. “He says she made him better—stop sleeping around so much.”

“Was this before or after he slept with his therapist?”

“I don’t know… after I think?”

Frank made a nonjudgmental sound that was half hum half cough. “How do you feel about this?  About Buck upgrading himself in his own terminology.”

“I think he’s fine the way he is.  He’s… Buck is one of the most giving and gentle people I’ve ever met. He’s just… good and he loves so easily and gets hurt when it doesn’t work out.  He… I get why he wanted to come back to work but if we’re just hurting him more…”

“You said you want to protect him?”

“Yeah.  I hate it when he’s hurt. It’s…”

“It’s what?”

“It’s almost as bad as when it’s Christopher hurting.”  Frank let what he’d said hang between them. It was exactly like Christopher being hurt yet different.  It was worse than if it had been Shannon…

Fuck.  

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

“Eddie?” Frank called his name gently. “You look like you’ve thought of something.  Would you like to share it?”

“I care about Buck more than I ever did for my wife,” he confessed. 

Frank was silent for almost a minute, waiting to see if he’d add anything else but Eddie didn’t have the words to say what Buck meant to him but it was telling wasn’t it?  Buck was more important than his wife had been. His wife he’d been willing to try again with even though she’d abandoned him when he’d just needed support and time and who he hadn’t been able to give enough of himself to to make her stay a second time when he’d tried again. 

“How do you care about Buck?”

“I care if he’s happy and how I can make him even happier or make it last longer.  I care if he’s sad and needs me to be there.  I care if he’s stressed and if I can lessen it by having his back and offloading things. I care if he’s sick and needs me to look after him.  I care… I care for him…”

“Is there another word to describe it?”

He knew what Frank was getting at. 

Love.  

He loved Buck. 

Was in love with him. 

His first instinct was to shrink away from saying it aloud. How could he… 

“What’s another way of saying it Eddie?”  Frank was pushing him to admit it.  To say it aloud. To feel safe admitting it in this place—the place Frank had said was a safe space. He’d committed to working with the therapist… to talking like he promised he would with Buck. 

He’d made a promise.  He would talk. 

“I love him,” he admitted softly, paused and took a deep breath in then repeated it louder. “I’m in love with Buck.”

“Is that a bad thing? To be in love with your best friend?”

“No.”

Frank was silent, letting him roll the concept around in his thoughts. 

“I’ve been in love with him for a while.”

“Do you know when you started?”

Eddie laughed.  It was a harsh laugh without joy—edgy and just a bit desperate. “I don’t know… maybe since I introduced him to Christopher? Maybe it was the grenade?  When I first saw him and he was being such an asshole…”  Eddie folded forward over his legs, rubbing his face with both hands. “I don’t know when but I… he’s the most important person in my life after my son.”

“Does he love you back?”

Eddie’s stomach plummeted. “I don’t know.  I… I don’t know how he feels about me.”

Frank gave him a few moments to let what he’d said marinate. “What do you know?  About how Buck feels?”

“I know that he was devastated when he lost Chris in the tsunami.  I know he doesn’t understand just how much I trust him or why I trust him with Christopher after that but he lets me. I know that when we don’t have each other’s backs…. Neither of us does well.  We’re both self destructive.”

“How so?”

“Fight club doc?  Remember why I’m here?”  He tried to be ironic but he hadn’t quite pulled it off as it sounded a bit desperate to his ears like he was deflecting. 

“Buck also was in a fight club?”

“No.  He wasn’t… he… he sued the department to get back to me… us.  He thought… he thought… he was being held back from having my back and he couldn’t stand it.”  Buck had hated feeling like he was being left behind—abandoned.  Like he had no worth if he wasn’t right there beside Eddie as his partner. 

“What do you mean?”

“Bobby—our captain—wouldn’t let him come back to work.  It’s why he sued.”

Frank stared at Eddie—he’d surprised him and even though he was a professional this little nugget of information was enough to even get through his usual professional mask. “I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” Eddie was a bit snippy but he corrected his tone before continuing. “Buck’s greatest fear is being left behind.  I don’t know why exactly but just the threat of being replaced—like when I first started at the 118–is the only time I’ve ever seen him be anything other than the most giving person I know and even then it only took us about thirty six hours or so to figure things out.  Ever since then he’s been…. My person.  He has my back and I his.  I should have known he’d… he’d do something rash when he felt left out.  I should have been there for him.  He felt like I left him and I…”

“You what?” Frank prompted when Eddie trailed off, mentally wincing at how he’d not had Buck’s back. 

“I was preoccupied with Christopher. He’d… Buck had been struggling with not being back at work—being my work partner.”

“Do you think Buck would fault you for focusing on your son?”

“No.  He’d never think that.”  Eddie was sure he wouldn’t.  Buck had stated he didn’t need to forgive Eddie for that even if he thought Buck shouldn’t since he hadn’t earned it.  “I tried to apologize for not…” he waved his hand helplessly, “for not being there for him.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he understood and that he forgave me.  He forgave… me as long as I forgave him.”

“What did you have to forgive him for?”

“The lawsuit.  Being… not being able to talk.  Which was all the lawyers’ fault.  I shouldn’t have listened to them.”

“Eddie.  Stop.  Are you being fair to both yourself and Buck?”

Eddie’s thoughts paused.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re both human.  You both have feelings and only so much mental energy.  Both you, Christopher and Buck had experienced a traumatic event in the tsunami and this was after the trauma of seeing your best friend crushed underneath a fire engine.”

“It was a ladder truck,” Eddie absently corrected, listening to Frank. 

“Okay—ladder truck. What I’m saying is that you’d had a few very rough months with compounding traumatic events and Buck’s health issues.”

“Yeah…”

“It’s okay and human to need time to heal.  To ask for help.”

“I never had to ask…. Buck just gave so much,” Eddie whispered, thinking over what Frank was saying. “I thought I was helping by having him watch Chris and then they both got caught by the tsunami.”

“Which neither you nor Buck could have anticipated.  Risk is inherent in life.”

“I know.  Nobody’s promised tomorrow.”

“Do you blame Buck for the tsunami?”

“No.  I never have. I’m just… if it was anyone else with Christopher other than him I think I’d have lost him.  Buck never gave up looking for him.  He saved him.  Christopher told me that he saved them both.”

“Buck’s strong.”

“Yeah he is.  And then I… I didn’t realize he was struggling so much. I missed… I don’t know how I missed it.  I told him I’d have his back and I missed it.”  He would be ashamed to his dying day that he had missed how much Buck was struggling.  He should have known—should have anticipated that Buck wouldn’t—

“Eddie.  I can tell you’re spiraling.  Refocus.”

He tried not to be resentful of Frank’s abrupt interruption but he knew he needed it.  Staring at his hands, he realized he’d been wringing them and gripping so hard the fading bruises he had from fighting were hurting like they were fresh. 

“I don’t blame Buck for the lawsuit. I… I feel like I didn’t have his back and that’s why… I made him feel like he was being left behind when I know… that’s what Abby did to him.”

“Abby—you’ve mentioned her.  Who was she?”

“When I first met Buck I was told that part of why he was being so standoffish was because his girlfriend Abby had abandoned him.  Her mom had just died and she’d gone on this… trip to I don’t know… find herself?  Buck promised her he’d wait as long as she needed him to and she just… she wouldn’t end it but she just left him waiting for her.”

“You don’t sound like you like her.”

“I hate her for what she did to him.”  He did.  Just the mention of her name and anger rose within him.  

How could she have done that to Buck when he clearly loved her?  Buck still wouldn’t say anything bad about how she’d just abandoned him like a dog tied up outside waiting for it’s owner to come back and claim it.  No food, no water, just chained to a fence post waiting loyally for her to come back.  Maybe Buck hadn’t even needed to be restrained.  He’d just wanted her to come back and it’d taken what—months?—for him to finally move out of her apartment. 

Inwardly, Eddie could even maybe admit that he hated her mostly because Buck still hunched his shoulders whenever she was brought up. That it still hurt him that she’d abandoned him. That he hadn’t been enough for her. 

“She left him.  Abby hurt him by leaving him.  And… I think I did the same thing to Buck. I can’t…”

“How did you do the same thing?”

“I didn’t talk to him.  I listened to the union rep.  I should have talked to him not left him alone.  I knew—know—that’s… I abandoned him too. I’m just as bad as her. “ And he’d told Buck yesterday morning that he’d give him time… was that the wrong thing to do?  Did Buck want or need time or was this another way to leave him?

“Are you the same?”  

The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean?  Of course I did the same thing.”

“But you started talking to him again.  You came back.”

“No I didn’t. I… when he came back to work I wasn’t… god I was an asshole to him.”

“You’re talking now.  You said you talked to him yesterday and plan on a call tonight.”

“It took him leaving to though.  We weren’t talking before he left,” Eddie felt like he was fraying apart. “Why does it take them leaving to make me realize how much of an asshole I am?”

“You’re not an asshole.”  Frank’s mouth twisted on ‘asshole’ like he hated using the word but was using it for emphasis.  Eddie had noticed that Frank tried not to swear or use demeaning words unless he wanted to make a point. “You obviously care for Buck.”

“I’m not just saying this about me and Buck.”

“Then who else?”

“My wife—Shannon.  It took her leaving for me to realize how I was failing her.  That I’d left her to struggle just like I did Buck.”

There it was.  When he loved someone he left them to struggle without help.  He missed how much help they needed from him.  That’s why he was an asshole.  He was incapable of shoveling his own shit to the side in order to help the ones he should the most. He was so self absorbed in his own problems that he didn’t realize he was hurting them. 

“Eddie,” Frank said gently, “did you ask Buck for help or did he ask?”

“No.  I thought… I thought I had things handled.”

“It’s okay to be human Eddie.  It’s okay to ask for help.  Can you tell me why you didn’t ask?”

“Because I couldn’t talk to him.”  His voice broke and he had to swallow a few times or the tears he was blinking back were going to start falling.  Why did he always feel scrubbed raw after a session?  

“So not talking led to you lashing out?”

“Maybe.  Probably.  Buck’s… he’s been my sounding board since we met.  Losing talking to him… I felt like I was… like I was drowning in the tsunami that almost took him and Chris.”

“And you said Buck forgave you as long as you’d forgive him for not talking?”

“Yeah.”  Buck had.  He still didn’t feel like he deserved it though. He had to be better. 

“Do you think you’d do it again?  Stop listening to Buck?”

“No.  Never,” he swiftly denied.  He’d learned his lesson.  He’d always listen.  He’d made a promise. 

Frank gave him a look that made him want to squirm in discomfort. “Remember that it’s human to make mistakes Eddie.  Let that promise be a work in progress?  You tend to be very hard on yourself.”

“I don’t know how else to be. It’s… I’ve always had to be the strong one.”

“What do you mean?”

Already wrung out, Eddie found himself trying to explain how he’d been brought up as the session time ran out. When Frank finally called time about ten minutes over, he gave Eddie some homework.  “I want you to try and recognize the moments where you’re not allowing yourself the same leeway you’d give someone else.  Your job is to recognize it—you don’t have to change anything I just want you to note it. We’ll talk about that next time.”

Eddie wanted to groan but he wasn’t sure he had the strength to do that and walk out the door.  “I’ll see you in two days.”

Frank as always held out his hand for a handshake at the end of the session.  It was both congratulatory for having made it through as well as encouraging.  Eddie’d found it odd the first time but now realized it was also just a bit of touch that gave him enough lift to make it out the door after pulling himself apart at the seams mentally. 

He still had Christopher to pick up from school and then actually talking to Buck tonight to look forward to and then work again tomorrow. 

***

The hatred in the box then I locked

The strongest one I knew 

I buried it all, grew a tree without thorns

Sat beneath the shade

You might think I’m your enemy 

But that don’t make you mine

Steve

Danny’s words about him having asked Hondo to look into Buck’s old therapist without telling Buck had stuck with him all through the drive to Mamo’s.  Buck had been quiet but fidgety in the passenger seat of the truck. Mamo lived in Kailua so it was a bit of a drive since he wasn’t working the surf shop today. 

“So how long have you known this shaman?” Buck asked, nervously fiddling with the strap of his watch. 

“He’s an old friend of my Dad’s so all my life.”

“And you… talk to him when you need to?”

“I have in the past,” Steve admitted as he took a turn down into the cul-de-sac where Mamo lived. “He’s… Mamo’s never given me bad advice and he’s a good listener.”

“So not a traditional head shrink.”

“No.”

The radio was on his usual classic rock station that he only listened to if Danny wasn’t with him.  The Eagles’ Desperado echoed through the car and was a bit too melancholy so he switched stations to the easy listening one that was playing Hawaiian music—the station he usually made Danny listen to. 

“Do you ever… after Freddie…” Buck stopped and started twice, a frustrated look crossing his face.

“Do I ever what?”

“Do you miss him?”

The question caught him off guard and he turned slightly so he could keep one eye on the road and one on Buck.  “Of course I miss him.  I miss him all the time.”

Rubbing his face, Buck seemed to be trying to work himself up to asking something else. “I mean… when he died… how did you miss him?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Steve said as he pulled up to Mamo’s place and shoved the gear stick into park. 

“Do you miss him like a brother or like…”

Steve suspected he knew what Buck was getting at. “Or like what?”

“Like… like a spouse.”

Steve closed his eyes at the question, fingers tightening around the wheel. “We were never like that.”

“But you wanted to be didn’t you?”

He repressed the instinct to flinch at Buck’s question. “Freddie… saw me as a brother.”

“I always thought… I was pretty confused when after our first down range exercise Kelly joined us for dinner.”

“Yeah,” Steve could see how Buck would have been surprised to meet Kelly.  Kelly had been the love of Freddie’s life—his high school sweetheart that he had reconnected with after going their separate ways for a few years when Freddie had gone through BUDS and met Steve. “Kelly was—is—a great woman.  Freddie was a lucky guy.”

“You loved him didn’t you.”  Buck said it so matter of factly, like it was obvious. 

“Of course.”  It was an automatic deflection. He’d been careful.  He’d respected Freddie’s relationship with Kelly even if it had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

The leather of the steering wheel creaked under the pressure of his grip. “Buck,” he tried to warn him off.

“No.  I… Do you think you made a mistake never telling Freddie how you felt?”  He opened his eyes and fully looked at Buck.  Buck was waiting, calmly for his answer.  He was a bit pale but he was serious. 

“I’m pretty sure Freddie knew,” he finally admitted.  There had been shared looks when they’d both had a bit too much to drink on lib and that one time… yeah.  

“But did you ever tell him?”

“No.  I never told him.”

Buck took a moment. “When I got the news he died—I was worried that I was going to lose you too.  Then your Dad died.  I didn’t want to ask questions but you’d been off and on with Rollins… “

“Cath is still a good friend,” Steve tried to defend her. 

“But she wasn’t Freddie.  Did you think you and her would… I don’t know… make it work?”

“No.  Well… maybe I thought we could before she decided on Billy.”

“Harrington right?”

“Yeah.”

“But she’s never been the one has she?”

“No. Cath was fun…. But I don’t love her like she deserves to be loved.”

“And Harrington does?”

“He’s good to her.”

Buck was again silent for a moment. “You know… before I moved to LA, Freddie and you were the most functional couple I’d ever known.”

“We weren’t—“

“You were and then you weren’t.  And then I met Bobby—my captain.  And I watched him fall in love with Athena.  I went maybe a bit wild when I left the seals and then I met Abby and she left me and I thought… I tried to be the kind of person someone would want but she left me too.”

“Buck…”

“No let me… I need to get this out. Freddie and you?  You were something special. Bobby had a family before—a family he lost but he’s found a new one with Athena. It is possible to find it more than once.  I know it is.”

What was Buck saying?  He knew that Eddie had been married before was that what Buck was getting at?

“Buck are you talking about you and—“

“I’m talking about you.  I know you miss Freddie.  Bobby misses his old family.  Eddie,” Buck’s voice cracked a bit on his name, “Eddie misses Shannon and… I… I keep trying and they keep leaving me.”

“What are you saying Buck?”

“That maybe… maybe you need…” Buck nervously licked his lips. “I’m going to talk to this guy.”

“Are you going to say what Danny says?  That I need therapy?”

“No!” Buck ran both his hands through his hair, frustrated with himself. “Well maybe?”

Steve couldn’t help the outraged laugh from escaping. “What are you—“

“I’m saying this very badly,” Buck interrupted, “but maybe you need to know that you can love someone again.  That Freddie… that oh God.”

“I don’t… say what you mean Buck.”  He had to be talking about Eddie right?  Buck was trying to talk to him about Eddie…by using Steve and Freddie as an example or something?

“You can love someone twice,” Buck bit out, unstrapping himself from his seat and exiting the truck.  As the door shut, he added, “Maybe you didn’t get it with Freddie but you could with someone else. Maybe you can have that.”

Confused, Steve got out of the truck. “Buck…kid….”

Buck wasn’t looking at him, his arms wrapped around himself and muttering under his breath. 

“Buck,” Steve tried again, reaching for Buck’s shoulder and turning him to face him. “What are you trying to say.”

Mulishly, Buck shrugged away from him. “You shouldn’t… you could have someone that makes you happy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve insisted. “Are you talking about Eddie?”

“No,” Buck’s frustration made the denial harsh. 

Unsure what else to do, Steve waved towards the house.  “Mamo’s waiting.”

The noise of frustration Buck made reminded him weirdly of Danny when he was fed up with Steve.  “Just think about it.”

“Sure.”  It wasn’t exactly an empty promise but he was wondering what exactly Buck was tryin got tell him.  Not to give up on Cath?

Mamo greeted them at the screen door. “Aloha.  Come in,” he said to Buck and placed a hand gently on his shoulder as he passed to guide him into the living room.  The touch calmed Buck just a bit and he swiftly toed off his shoes before going to take a seat on the comfortable looking couch that was just visible from the door.  “Steve?” Mamo called when he realized Steve wasn’t following Buck.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two—you don’t need me while you talk.”  He didn’t step inside, letting the screen door shut between them.

Mamo’s dark eyes speared into him for a moment, the fine lines around his eyes pronounced as he searched for something before he gave a small nod.  “Okay.  We’ll talk soon.”

Retreating to the truck, Steve turned what Buck had said over and over.  He had to be talking about Cath right?  Who was he talking about?  Freddie and him had never been that way.  Between Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and the fraternization rules Steve had known that they’d never be that way even if he had maybe loved Freddie more than just as a brother. 

Buck had known this.  Why was he bringing it up?  Was this about Eddie in some way?

He was still chewing on this thought when his phone rang.  It was Chin. “What’s up?”

“Adam’s talking.  Get down here.” 

“I’m on my way.”

His tire wheels squealed a bit as he took a tight turn and stepped on the gas. 

***

He didn’t run through the hallways of Queens Medical but it was a near thing. Steve was well acquainted with the route to the ICU and was waved on by the nurses at the station as he made Adam’s room. 

Adam was propped upright in bed, white as the sheets around him but conscious.  Chin was holding a cup of ice chips and feeding them to the man one by one, tightly coiled like a cobra. Adam was so weak that he couldn’t even hold the cup, just meekly accepted each ice chip.

“Adam—you’re awake.”

Adam made to turn to face Steve but grimaced in pain and his hand went towards his belly as he began to cough. Chin hovered, helping to hold the other man upright.  Steve lurched forward to help. 

The coughing jag eventually petered out, each breath Adam took was raspy and labored with a whistling noise accompanying it. “Easy,” Chin tried to soothe him as they guided him to relax into the pillows that had been wedged around him. “Tell Steve what you told me.”

“It… was….” Adam wheezed slightly, hunching forward and caught by Chin’s strong hands but he didn’t start coughing again.  He said a name but Steve was sure he was mistaken—he’d heard wrong.

“I’m sorry who?”

“Wo Fat.  It was Wo Fat.”

The world dropped out from under Steve’s feet and his heart seized in his chest as his breath froze. 

“What?”

“Wo Fat was there.  He took Kono,” Adam’s voice was pleading and his eyes were wet.  “He took her. He. Took. Her.”

Steve had to have misheard.  Wo Fat had been in the wind for almost a year now since he’d broken out of the federal prison in Colorado.  He’d asked his mother and she’d sworn that Wo Fat wouldn’t come back to Oahu.  That knowing his father was still alive had him tracking the man across Southeast Asia.  

“What?”

“He took her.  Said,” another coughing jag that was shorter than the last but seemed to sap all of Adam’s strength and a nurse entered the room and pushed Steve gently out of her way as she placed an oxygen cannula under Adam’s nose. 

Feeling useless, Steve could only watch as Adam seemed to melt into the bed, his body ready to give out. Stubbornly, when the nurse stepped away, Adam’s eyes met Steve’s.  “Said he needed to talk to you.  Was sending a message.”

“And he took Kono?”

“Yes.” The agony on Adam’s face wasn’t physical as his eyes darted between Steve and Chin. “You haven’t found her.  She’s not here.”

“No.”

Adam curled in on himself, a sob escaping him that was cut short by coughing which was interspersed with what could only be described as desperate howls of Kono’s name.  He tried ineffectually to crawl towards the edge of his bed as if to leave it and go in search of her but Chin firmly pinned him back to the bed, ignoring the hands that clutched at his arms like a swimmer drowning and in search of a life raft. 

“We’re going to find her,” Steve heard himself promising like it was someone else talking.  “We will find her Adam.”

“Promise?” Was the broken question, desperate pain coloring it. 

“We’re going to find her.  This is the last time Wo Fat lays hands on my family,” Steve promised him, deadly serious. 

“Please Steve.  Please find Kono,” Adam’s soft cries were muffled as Chin pulled him into his chest.  Over Adam’s head, Chin’s eyes burned like hot coals, pale underneath his tan. For the first time since he’d entered the room, Steve got a good look at his teammate and friend.  Chin was just barely holding together better than Adam, his long practiced iron control barely holding in his own terror at finding out just who had Kono. 

It was Steve’s fault.  It was his fault Kono had been targeted.  Wo Fat would have left her alone if it wasn’t for him.

Pushing himself away from the bed, Steve stumbled as he walked backwards out the door.  “I’m going to find her,” he managed to say before he all but ran from the room like he was being chased by the hounds of hell. 

It was his fault.  He’d sent Kono out on her own and Wo Fat had gotten to her. 

Stumbling down the stairs as the elevator would take to long, he mashed the call button on his phone. 

He needed Danny on high alert. No more going anywhere alone for any of them and their families needed to have protection round the clock. 

Never again.  Wo Fat wouldn’t lay a finger on his Ohana ever again and he’d get Kono back. 

 

And all I have now is above thee

I wish that you’d stop trying

Oh please stop lying

Please stop la la la la la la la

La la la la

La la la la la la la

La la la la

 

Lyrics: Enemy by Jack Johnson

Notes:

I’m going to hand wave about how Deacon probably shouldn’t reveal details about Buck to Eddie for story purposes. Medical stuff is fiction-accurate (meaning not exactly like it is in real life but I’ve made an effort to make it sound real-ish).

I’d also like to make a disclaimer that I’m not actually trying to be anti-fire family. Both Buck and Eddie are tending to spiral a bit much but we’ll eventually be in a better place with them all.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 8: Check your Six

Summary:

Following the evidence leads to personally devastating news for Steve. Meanwhile Buck has a more wax-on, wax-off kind of therapy session with Mamo. Eddie contrasts his own experience with Buck’s and is unable to contain the explosion when pushed by Bobby.

Notes:

More angst ahead—not everyone is in a healthy headspace at the moment. Canon typical violence/rescues described.

Chapter 8: Check Your Six

 

Understand one thing

If and when you drink from this vast ocean

You can’t control it

Na, na, you can’t control it

 

Steve

Danny liked to give him grief about when he got like this. Usually he’d feel at least a twinge of regret but right now he just felt abject terror at the thought of Wo Fat getting his hands on more of his Ohana.  

Kono.  He had Kono…

Where was Danny?

The fact that Danny wasn’t right there in front of him or next to him made Steve tear down the steps, hitting the fire door at the bottom with enough force that it bounced off the concrete and he had to catch it before it could rebound into his face. 

Where was Danny?

Where was he?

DannyDannyDannyDannoDannoDannoDannomyDanno….where was his Danno?

How he made it back to the office was going to be a mystery—he blacked the car rid out entirely. All he knew was he needed to make sure Danny was okay. 

Storming through the door to headquarters, he made a beeline straight for Danny’s office.  He could see Danny squinting at his computer screen, several notepads scattered around him as well as the beginnings of a mind map that he’d scrawled across the windows and he was chewing on the end of a dry-erase marker that he had to hide from Steve or Steve would have gotten rid of it. 

Steve hated it when Danny used the windows as a whiteboard. It wasn’t neat and tidy but most importantly anyone could see it and that was an unacceptable security risk. 

Danny said it helped him think to be able to draw connections. 

Steve just needed to know Danny was okay. 

“Woah!” Danny startled as Steve entered his office and marched around the desk to turn his chair to face him in order to do a visual inspection of Danny for injuries. Danno was wearing his dress pants and the blue shirt that was the same color as his eyes of which he’d unbuttoned the top two buttons to show hints of the white undershirt he always wore despite complaining about the tropical heat.  His professional leather dress shoes accidentally hit Steve in the shins as he spun him but Steve could have cared less. 

No blood.  No obvious injury.  He reached for Danny and began patting him down—first the arms and chest then the legs before moving more centrally which got him a foot to the chest that gently shoved him away. 

“Babe?  You with me?”  Danny was a bit flushed and was clutching the edge of his desk, knuckles white. Was he hiding an injury from Steve?

Before he could resume his injury check, Danny put his foot right over his sternum allowing Steve to wrap his fingers around a sock clad ankle, instinctively checking a pulse that was slightly elevated. “Danno?”

“What happened Babe?” Danny’s voice was soft, like how he talked to Grace when she was scared about something. 

“Wo Fat.”  It was a struggle to get something as simple as a name out.  He needed to explain to Danno how much danger he was in…

Danny’s brow furrowed, showing all the lines he was getting that he swore were all Steve’s fault.  He also blamed all of his gray hairs on Steve that he might or might not have (Steve said not). “What about him?”  

“He’s out.”

“Impossible.”  Danny’s swift denial was automatic. “He’s in the federal pen in Colorado.  They’d tell us if he was out.”

Steve’s throat wasn’t working and it felt like he was choking on his words. “Got out.  Kono.”

“Kono what?”  Danny wasn’t stupid but he was obviously not willing to believe Steve.  “That’s impossible.”

“He’s out Danno,” Steve pled.  “He has Kono.”

“Fuck. Is he the one who?” Danny gestured helplessly but Steve understood.

“He hurt Adam.”

Danny’s foot fell from where it had been pressing into his chest and he spun his chair to lean over his desk, head in his hands, eyes shadowed and hidden from Steve who could only hover worriedly.  “Danno?”

Giving an aborted exhale, Danny’s blue eyes peaked out from under his hands to meet Steve’s. “Chin know?”

“Yeah.  He was there when Adam told me.”

“So you’re telling me Sang Min and Wo Fat are working together?”

He could only shrug helplessly. “Maybe.”

Danny began swearing under his breath about idiot criminals who didn’t know when to give up. The fact that he wasn’t winding up into a full blown rant meant he was just as worried as Steve. 

Both of them knew this was bad. Wo Fat’s history of attempts to ruin or end Steve’s life aside, he’d also murdered Jenna and her boyfriend.   There was also that evidence of how he’d interfered with Steve’s investigations during his naval career—which he’d most definitely not shared that info with Danny as it would only make his blood pressure go up.

There was traces of evidence that Wo Fat had been working with Hesse back when Freddie had been killed. That Steve’s team had been targeted specifically because of him. 

He couldn’t think of that now.  He needed to focus on keeping Danny safe. 

They needed a plan. 

“Danny?”  Steve was standing a bit too close, hovering.  Realizing this by how Danny was cranking on his neck to look at him, he took a step back and then made himself take a seat in the armchair across the desk.

He hated the distance between them but it was either that or he was going to do something stupid like handcuff Danny to him in order to keep him close.

The one time he’d tried that he’d had bruises on his shin for weeks from Danny kicking him at every opportunity.  Only some had been by accident. 

He might have deserved it.

“I’m calling Colorado.  I want someone to go physically lay eyes on him.  He can’t be out.”  Steve could only watch silently as Danny found a phone number in the old fashioned Rolodex he kept next to the picture of Grace and Charlie before dialing. 

“You have the number?” Steve found himself asking absently.  He felt weirdly floaty yet hyper focused. 

Danny finished dialing and waited for the call to connect, checking their world clock which was visible through the open door. “I call every so often to make sure the bastard is still locked away—yes.  This is Detective Daniel Williams calling from Honolulu Police Department.  Can I talk with the warden?”

Steve’s eyebrows climbed and he mouthed, ‘you know the warden?’

Danny rolled his eyes at him.  “Yes I’ll hold.”

“You know the warden?” Steve repeated aloud. “At Florence?”

“Yeah.  He’s used to my check ins.”

They sat in silence as Danny waited on hold.  It was a relatively short wait. “Warden Doyle? It’s Danny Williams.  I was wondering if I could get a welfare check.”

Danny listened to the headset, his frown deepening and his eyes flickering up just briefly to look at Steve before deliberately falling back to his desk as he reached for a post-it note. “What?  When?  I thought you’d put a notice on his file to notify me.”

Steve curled forward, unable to hear what Danny was being told but knowing it was bad. 

“Can I have you send me copies of the paperwork?  And do you have video footage?” A pause then, “What?  They did what?”

“Danny?”

Danny waved agitatedly at him to get him to stop talking. “They can do that?”

Listening intently, Danny wrote something on the post-it and held it up for Steve to see. 

CIA.  

The three letters stood out in black ink against the violent pink of the paper. 

For the second time today, Steve was frozen in shock for just a few seconds as his brain comprehended what Danny was saying. 

If the CIA was involved… it meant his mother was involved. It was too coincidental to be an accident. You didn’t retire from the CIA—that’s what Doris McGarrett had jokingly told him less than a year ago. 

His mother had gotten the man who’d tried to kill him—had killed other people close to him—out of federal prison.  A man who’d gone after his Ohana and wouldn’t stop until one of them was dead. 

Danny called his family fucked up for a reason and here was exhibit A.  

Steve’s mother cared more for Wo Fat than she did for her own biological child.  Did she understand what she’d done?  

He’d tried to be a good man like Danny believed him to be.  Steve hadn’t killed Wo Fat when he’d had the chance. He’d believed in the justice system to carry out a fair trial so that everyone Wo Fat had harmed got their day in court. It’d been a painful trial but ended with Wo Fat being sentenced to life with no parole. 

It’d been a fair sentence… and his mother had sprung a prison break. 

While he’d been stuck in his thoughts, Danny had gotten off the phone. “Babe?  Steve?”

Steve pulled his own cell phone out, already hitting speed dial.  It took five rings for Joe to pick up.  “Steve?  I wasn’t expecting your call.  How are you?”

“Did you know?” The phone creaked warningly in his grip.

“Did I know what?”  Joe dropped the warmth but still was calm as always. You could have a gun to his head, and he’d still sound like this. 

“Did you help her,” Steve rephrased. 

“Help her who?”

“Doris.” He wasn’t going to call her mom—possibly never again. How could she have done this?

There was silence on Joe’s end. 

“Did you know?”  Steve was losing patience rapidly,

Joe sighed. “It’s not that simple—“

“Well make it that simple for me.”

“Wo Fat is a Chinese government operative.”

“So what. Last I checked having him run around unchecked left a body count and bribery of government officials—like a state governor.”

“He was supposed to go home.  Your mom—“

“Doris.”  He did not want her referred to as his mom.  Joe was calling her that on purpose to try and get him to be agreeable.  He was beyond being agreeable.  Wo Fat had hurt Adam and had Kono.  

Steve was not going to be agreeable.

Joe corrected himself.  “Doris was making sure that he stayed in China.”

Steve snorted in disbelief. “And if you believed that, you’re not the man who trained me.”

“Steve—“

“No.  You’re going to tell me everything you know Joe.  Everything.  And if you tell Doris you better never see or speak to me again.”

Joe was silent for a very long couple of seconds. “Steve…”

“Joe,” he said the man’s name sharply, aware of Danny’s presence next to him so close that he could feel the brush of his dress shirt against his arm holding the cell phone.  It was comforting to have Danno beside him but he had to do this. 

“I’m not at home, but I’ll head there now.  You’ll have everything I know in a half hour,” Joe capitulated and Steve closed his eyes.  He’d never thought that he’d be demanding Joe prove his loyalty to him but here they were. 

“Not one minute more,” he warned. A half hour was a lot of time for someone like Joe.  Steve knew better than to assume Joe wasn’t going to send Doris a message that Steve knew about the jailbreak.  

If Doris showed up he…. He was going to probably have to stop Danny from shooting her on sight. On his best day Danno was not a fan of Doris McGarrett.  Pettily, a voice in the back of his head asked if it would be so terrible if Danny shot Doris. 

The answer was yes, but only because he knew Danny would feel guilty afterward because of her tenuous relationship with Steve and Danny’s paternal instincts that Doris had none in relation to Steve.

The fact that she had them for Wo Fat burned.  

Neither of them said goodbye, but Joe hung up first. 

“Babe?” Danny called softly, his hand hesitant as it came to rest on Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve reached for Danny’s hand and wrapped his own around it and held on. He needed to focus on the next step even if all he wanted to do was scream. 

“Joe knew.”

“I gathered.”  

“He knew Danny.”

Danny’s free hand cupped his jaw, and he willingly went where he guided, finally opening his eyes which he’d closed when talking to Joe. He’d felt Danny move close, but he hadn’t wanted to see pity in his eyes. 

There was no pity in Danny’s clear ocean blue eyes. A storm moved in them—Danny was contained fury focused on Doris McGarett, Wo Fat and Joe White.  Danny always was his biggest defender and supporter since their second day together.

Okay maybe it was their third.  He’d gotten Danny shot after Steve had co-opted him into being his backup.  

Danny had never looked back.  Had always been there for him through being falsely charged with the former governor’s murder to North Korea when Steve had been convinced that when that truck had stopped, it was going to be the end for him.  Seeing Danny who was ready to tear the world apart to find him instead…something had changed for him that day.  

Not even Catherine would fight to stay by his side as Danno would. 

He suddenly realized what Buck had been trying to tell him in the truck.  

Steve was an idiot. An oblivious idiot, and he was surprised Buck had been nice and tried to tell Steve like the idiot he was that he was in love with his partner. 

He’d already known he loved Danny… just he maybe hadn’t realized it was this way. 

Life-changing realizations aside, now was not the proper time to examine how he felt for his partner. 

“We need to start being more careful,” he said slowly. “No one goes off by themselves anymore.”

Danny snorted, not disagreeing. “You can tell Chin that.  He likes his independence.”

“He’ll understand.”  Steve would make sure he understood.  He wasn’t losing Chin too.

“So I suppose I should offer him the couch,” Danny rubbed the back of his head, looking tired. 

“What? No.”  Steve had assumed Danny would be bunking at his place. He wanted Danny under his roof every night but he wasn’t thinking about that right now.

Danny eyed him unimpressed. “You’ve got the kid. That leaves me with Chin.”

He hated it when Danny was logical like this. 

“Grace and Charlie?”

“I’m going to send them to stay with my parents for a few weeks. I want them out of this, and my old precinct can keep an eye on things.  Wo Fat will stick out like a sore thumb in Jersey.”

“You were already thinking about this,” Steve mused aloud.  He wanted Grace and Charlie out of the line of fire.  It made sense to send them away. 

Steve immediately felt guilty.  This was exactly what his Dad had done with him, but he understood better now as an adult and having gone through his Dad’s champ box. 

“Yeah.  I was… with Kono being taken, it seemed likely.”

“You already have the flights booked.”  He knew that look on Danny.

“Yeah.  Tonight actually.  Grace is trying to be excited to see her grandparents, but she’s old enough to have figured out something is going on.  She’s been clinging to Charlie a lot the last week.”

“She’s growing up too fast,” Steve protested. He could remember when he first met her and now she was almost a teenager. 

“Your truth to God’s ears,” Danny agreed. “Do we need to have your Hondo guy watching Buck’s family in LA?  I know it’s not here but….”

“Yeah.  Good idea.”  Chin would let the rest of his family know, and the Kalakaua clan was already on high alert because of Kono.  They didn’t know how far Wo Fat’s reach was, but it wasn’t worth the gamble.

“I’ll leave you alone to call Hondo,” 

Danny released his hold on him, and the withdrawal of his body heat made Steve want to shiver. True to his word, Danny went towards the small kitchenette to brew some coffee. 

***

His call to Hondo was much less antagonistic than his call to Joe.

“Hondo.”

“Smooth Dawg,” he could hear how Hondo was teasing him by drawing out the ‘wg’ sound. “This is getting to be a regular habit, these calls from pineapple land.”

“I need a favor.”

“Name it.”

“I need you to put a protection detail on Kid’s family. A not obvious one.”

“You’re going to need to explain a bit.  How many of them?”

Steve sighed.  “All of them.  An old…. enemy has Kono.”  Hondo knew about his ohana/teammates from prior conversations.  Hondo’d always joked that if Kono ever decided to leave Adam, he wanted an introduction as she was his kind of woman. 

Given his most recent thoughts regarding Danny, it did occur to him that Hondo mentioned Deacon almost as much, but he didn’t have time to tease Hondo about it now. 

“If this guy went for Kono and her husband Adam, I wouldn’t put it past him to target other family members.”

Hondo grunted. “Evil Bastard. So he likes that kind of leverage?”

“He’s done it before.  Killed the fiance and then dangled him as still being alive to get a CIA analyst to do his dirty work.”

The mention of Jenna got an impressed whistle. “So he’s an unscrupulous lying bastard.  How far relation-wise we talking?  Kid’s got a sister, and then there’s his man and their boy.”

“I would like to see Buck’s expression if he heard you calling Diaz that.”

“What can I say? Deacon’s taken a shine to him.”

“And you trust Deacon.”

“Always.”

“For sure the sister and Diaz and his son.  Probably also his entire shift at the 118.”

Hondo hummed. “Nash, Han and Wilson for sure. They show up on the kid’s Instagram often, so they’re all excellent targets.  Kid should lock this down—too public.”

“I’ll have a chat with him about that,” Steve sighed.  Buck had tried so hard to be normal, and now he was going to have him lock down everything as he’d been as a seal. Danny was either going to agree with him or be furious on Buck’s behalf even if he agreed that people put too much out there on social media that made them vulnerable. 

“His coworkers have a lot of immediate family,” Hondo observed. “I’m going to give Sgt Grant-Nash a head’s up.  She’ll have her people watched, so that’ll help.”

“Do what you need to.  I’ll…. just name it and I’ll return the favor.”

Honod laughed. “I know you’re good for a return favor when I need it. As I said, Diaz has grown on Deac so he’ll want to handle that personally.”

“Thanks.”

“You got it brother.  We’ll keep an eye on things over here.”

Steve couldn’t say antyhign other than repeating, “Thanks Hondo.  I’ll send you the details of what to be on the lookout for.”

“You got it Smooth Dog.  Stay frosty.”

Mom forgot to tuck you in

Make you start a war within your head

One that you could never win

Send in the troops, sent insecurities

What doesn’t matter in the end

So daddy told you to hold your chin up, son

***

Buck

Mamo was… very Hawaiian.  It wasn’t that Buck wasn’t spiritual or anything but he wasn’t really into organized religion despite Eddie’s teasing about being superstitious.  He’d gone to services as a kid because he didn’t have a choice but like everything else in his life his parents really hadn’t cared if he believed in what was presented or not—just that he went with them and went through the motions.  

Hawaiian religion was on the more spiritual end of the spectrum and less organized than what he’d grown up with.  Mamo was a mountain of calm and instead of sitting on his couch like he had at his one and only traditional therapist appointment the man had taken him out back to his workshop and put him to work. 

“So you own your surf shack?” Buck asked as he planed the foam down to shape it closer to the marked outline of the board it was going to become. 

“Yes.  Been doing it since before Stevie was born.”

“Ah.”  

“Stevie said you served with him?”

“Yep.”  

“Thank you for your service then.”

Buck never knew what to say when someone said that.  Awkwardly, he muttered, “thanks.”

“He also said you’d been having a rough time lately.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“So tell me about it,” Mamo noted as he worked on his board that he was refurbishing, smoothing it down with sandpaper to get knicks out of the fiberglass finish. 

“Where should I start?”

“At the beginning helps. Steve said you were injured?”

Awkwardly, Buck began explaining how the ladder truck had landed on his leg. Mamo let him talk, occasionally asking for clarification on a point but otherwise let him talk.  As he told the whole tale, Buck found himself accelerating and talking faster until he got to the actual part where he’d woke up from surgery, not sure if his leg was still all there as he hadn’t been able to feel it due to the anesthetic. 

“You were scared?”

“Well yeah.  Terrified.”

“Seems like a normal response,” Mamo offered. “Did you wake up alone.”

“It was only a few minutes,” Buck rushed to reassure the man.  “Maddie was there almost right away.”

“She’s your sister correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you feel better with her there?”

“Not really,” Buck admitted with a wince. “I…. All I could think was that I’d never work again.”

“That’s your biggest fear?  Not being able to work?”

Buck thought for a moment. His biggest fear? Part of it.  “Kind of.”

“Can you explain?”

“I….When I left the navy I wanted to find what I was really meant to be.  I knew I wanted to help people instead of shoot at them, which ruled out working for Hondo.”

“Hondo? Like the John Wayne movie?”

“He’s LAPD SWAT and a friend.”

“Ah.  Go on.”

“Being a firefighter… it’s what I was always meant to be.  My calling.”

“And you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to be one again?”

“Yeah.  Exactly.”  The repetitive motion of running the plane up and down the foam was oddly soothing as they talked and Mamo’s voice was gentle. 

“Why do you think you fear losing your job the most—out of everything?”

Buck thought for a moment before replying. “Leaving the navy… Steve was gone.  Freddie was dead.  The people there that made it… that made me a good seal had all moved on and I needed to have that again.  I wanted… a found family?”

“I thought you already had a family.  You mentioned your sister.  Why would you need another one?”

“Maddie came later.  I hadn’t seen her in years and my parents…. They don’t care.  They’ve never cared.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No it is.  The only time they ever paid attention to me was when I got hurt.”

Mamo tried to hide a grimace but wasn’t entirely successful. “So they came to visit when you got hurt at least.”

“No they didn’t.  Mom called… two months later?”  He couldn’t remember exactly when it was but he’d been really exhausted from a PT appointment and it’d been a short call.  He’d tried to forget it since she’d only asked how he was doing as you would to anyone and then launched into what she had been up to and how busy she’d been.   There’d been no follow up questions about his health or recovery. 

“So your parents haven’t been the best… and you found a new family as a firefighter?”

“Yeah.  Chimney is like an older brother I never had and Bobby—my captain—he’s… he’s like a dad. Hen is a good friend and Eddie is the best friend I’ve ever had.  Without them… I… I thought I’d lose them if I couldn’t work.”

“And did you?”

“No, that came later.”

Mamo’s silence urged him to go on. 

“At first, everyone was supportive.  They came to the hospital, and I never had trouble getting a ride to PT or doctor’s appointments, although that was mostly Eddie.”  Eddie had been there more than anyone else—even Maddie. He’d stayed positive when Maddie had started to make suggestions about Buck finding something else other than firefighting. Buck loved his sister, but he could tell she’d been scared by his accident and wanted him out of the figurative line of fire, and he wondered if she was the same with Chimney or if it was just him. 

“You said at first?”  Mamo’s question prodded him out of his memories. 

“Ali broke up with me a few weeks after the accident.  She couldn’t take me wanting to go back to work—couldn’t believe I’d want to.  It’s what happens to me—people leave. It… Her leaving made me think I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“That if I couldn’t be a firefighter, I’d lose them.  Chimney. Bobby and Athena and their kids.  Hen and Karen and her kids.   Eddie and Christopher. They’re the people in my life.  If I lost them… I didn’t know what I’d do.”

“You could have reached out to Stevie.  You’re important to him.”

Buck paused mid-motion, the plane biting a bit deep and taking a bite of foam that he’d have to even out. “I didn’t want to tell him.”

“Why?”

“It was tough enough with my LA family. I… I didn’t want to worry him.  Steve’s had a rough few years.”

“You still haven’t explained how you lost your LA people.”

“No.  I… recovery was rough, and people are busy with their own lives. I was still invited to cookouts and get-togethers, but I couldn’t do all of them because of my recovery and… I pushed it too much.”

“Pushed how?”

“I was overdoing it.  I was determined to get back as quickly as possible and had to pass all my recertification tests.”

“To get back to work?”

“Yeah.  I passed my tests and got the clearance to go back to work.  I was so relieved, and they threw me a party to celebrate—Bobby and Athena—and then it went wrong, and I almost died.  Again.”

“How many times have you almost died?”

“This last year?  At least three times.”

“Three?  The last year?” Mamo’s voice rose in surprise, and the man was staring at Buck now.  “The accident with the firetruck (ladder Buck corrected) and what?”

“I threw a blood clot from working out too hard.  I have screws in my leg holding it together and the clot migrated from my leg to my lungs.  I threw up blood right in front of Bobby, and it almost killed me.”

“That’s two.  What was the third?”

“I was caught in the tsunami with Christopher—Eddie’s son. We were on the Santa Monica pier when it hit.”

Mamo said something in Hawaiian too softly for Buck’s ears to catch. “You have come out of all of this in good health?”

“For the most part.  My leg still hurts when it rains—probably always will—and I’m on blood thinners for the clots.”

“You’ve had a lot happen to you in a short time. Anyone would understand if you needed time to process and heal.”

“I don’t want time.  I just wanted to get back to work…. But I maybe went about it the wrong way.”

“Hm,” Mamo hummed.  “So your self-worth is tied into being able to work to make the people you consider your family values you.”

He couldn’t disagree with that summary. 

“Explain why they wouldn’t still want you even if you had to find some other job.”

Buck couldn’t find words to explain why. “Ali left. Abby—my first real girlfriend—left and never came back.  I… if I couldn’t work with them….”

“They still consider you family, and I’m sure unless you were wrong about them before.  Your job does not determine your worth.”

“Is it?  Unless I’m saving people, I’m wasting my life.”

“Do you think your sister think that?  Your family?”

“I… no.  Maddie doesn’t think that.  She thinks I should do something less risky.  She hated me getting hurt.”

“What about the others?”

Buck thought about the question.  Eddie didn’t.  Eddie wanted him back as his partner, but he’d said he’d wait for him, or they’d figure something out if he decided not to return.  Eddie had said as much this morning. 

Wait.  

Eddie had said… 

Something Eddie had said finally hit him.  We.  We would figure it out. He’d specifically said we and Buck had thought it sounded weird at the time but now he got it.  Where he went, so went Eddie. Eddie was willing to follow him. 

“Buck?”  Mamo patiently prodded. 

“I think I just realized something.  Eddie he… he’s going to wait for me.”

“Wait for you?”

“He said he was, but I didn’t…. I didn’t understand it when he said it because we’d said a lot and—“

“But he said he’d wait for you?”

“He’s my partner.”

Mamo’s eyebrows rose. “Partner?  You mentioned girlfriends—“

“Not like that,” Buck corrected, then added a bit softer, “not that I’d object to it being that way….”

“You like him that way?”

“What way?” Buck hedged nervously.  He’d said too much, and he never talked about that. 

“I don’t know.  Explain it to me.”  Mamo waited patiently for an answer. 

“Eddie’s…. Eddie.  I’ve never had anyone in my life like him.  He said I could have his back any day, and I said I’d have his and not being able to work,” Buck gestured helplessly with the planer. “I… “

“Was part of your difficulties with not being able to work related to him?”

“I felt like I was letting him down. That I needed to get back as soon as possible.  He’s… he almost died when a well collapsed on him, and then his wife died and—“

“Wait.  How many near-death experiences do you firefighters have?”

Buck laughed at the question. “Too many.  Eddie… he… when he almost died, I kind of lost it.  If he hadn’t made it out…”

“What would have happened then?”

There was a twisting sensation in his gut at the thought of Eddie not surviving the well.  When he’d popped up drenched and chilled, Buck had practically bowled him over in his haste to get to Eddie. He’d had to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating Eddie being there in front of him instead of buried underneath forty feet of mud and rock, to feel him and check every inch to make sure he was okay. 

“If Eddie hadn’t made it, I wouldn’t have been okay… he’s… he’s everything.”

“Everything?”

He hadn’t planned on admitting that.  Eddie—and Christopher—were his world in so many ways. Without them… yeah, he hadn’t done well.  That’s why he always needed to be able to talk to Eddie, as he’d said earlier.  No more going without talking. 

Talking had to be enough.  Eddie didn’t think of him that way, did he? 

But he’d said we this morning. 

He’d said we. 

Maybe it wasn’t just Buck.  Maybe Eddie… no.  Eddie couldn’t have meant that.  Nobody meant it that way.  Hadn’t Abby—

“Buck, I can tell you’re letting your thoughts hurt you.”  Mamo’s voice broke through the circle his thoughts had devolved into. 

“What?”

Mamo’s smile was careful as he regarded Buck. “You back with me?”

“Yeah,” Buck coughed awkwardly. 

“Why does Eddie mean everything?”

He didn’t want to answer.  He didn’t want to say it aloud.  Saying it out loud would be jinxing it. 

“Buck?”

“He’s… he’s my partner.” It was both the truth and not enough.  It didn’t even begin to explain what Eddie was to him, yet it could mean everything he wanted. 

Buck desperately wanted that ‘we’ to mean everything.  

To mean that he belonged with Eddie and Christopher.  

That they were a family that planned their lives together.  

That he wouldn’t be left behind. 

That maybe Eddie felt… 

There was no way Eddie felt like he did… right?  

Buck was misinterpreting things… but Eddie had said ‘we’.  

“What does partner mean to you?”  

For not being an official therapist Mamo sure asked questions like one.  

“It means everything,” Buck admitted, thoughts still focused inwardly on Eddie’s use of the word ‘we’ and its possible meanings that had a small kernel of hope beginning to burn in his chest. 

Mamo snorted, his smile widening into a full grin.  “I see,” he said mysteriously before looking closer at Buck’s planing job.  “I don’t think I’m going to hire you full time.  Your inner turmoil is going to affect this board.”

“What?” Buck asked in confusion before noticing that he’d shaved the board down too much. “Aww crap.”

Amused, Mamo nudged him towards the board he’d been refinishing.  “Maybe you’ll be better at sanding.  Just remember—sand one direction only. Relationship strife is better to put elbow grease into sanding.”

“I got it—no wax on wax off circles, sensei,” Buck grumbled as he took the sandpaper handed to him. Chim would appreciate the reference if he’d been here.  He’s the one who’d made him watch The Karate Kid last Christmas, so he wouldn’t be a complete pop culture disaster.

***

Mamo continued to pull more details from him quietly and steadily.  Buck found himself explaining his extended found family.  

Talking about Hen and Karen and how much he admired their resiliency despite their difficulties and how they were trying to have another child was straightforward.  How Hen had been a mentor to him and then became a friend. 

He detailed how he’d first met Athena and still didn’t know what she meant by ‘don’t go chasing waterfalls’, which Mamo informed him was from a song named Waterfalls that he made a mental note of to look up when he had the chance. How she’d become in a lot of ways his surrogate mom and how he wanted to make her proud but felt lately how he’d done nothing but disappoint or scare her.  How he saw May and Harry almost like step siblings and felt protective of them as such. 

Buck couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he talked about Captain Han and how different he was from Chimney—his almost brother in law and pseudo older brother.  How at first Chim had merely seemed to tolerate Buck then adopted him and taught him so much. That Buck looked up to him as a firefighter and was happy that Chimney made Maddie so happy when she’d had so much unhappiness. 

Which then brought up his sister.  As they’d talked, his phone had chirped with a message from Eddie that Maddie was asking after him.  He hadn’t been avoiding Maddie per se but he had been limiting what he told her and he’d been busy when she’d tried to call—legitimately so—with trying to find Kono.  He confessed to Mamo that he didn’t know what to tell her as she’d been so disappointed with him going back to work and how much it had hurt him to know she didn’t support him. 

“She is scared for you,” Mamo reminded him.  “She saw her brother hurt. It’s natural that she’s trying to protect you from being hurt again.  She loves you.”

“I know,” Buck huffed.  “I… get that. I just want her to be supportive, you know?”

Mamo had shrugged and they’d moved on to his relationship with Bobby which was the most complicated other than Eddie.  “Bobby… I wish he was my real dad some days.”

“Because?”

“Because it’s obvious he cares—most of the time—but I disappointed him with the lawsuit so that’s ruined.”

“Are you sure it’s ruined?”

“Pretty sure.  I got back to work and I’m still in the dog house. It’s not like it was.”

“How so?”

So Buck explained the ‘Bobby’s rules’ of the 118 and how he wasn’t treated the same as the others. 

“You say you think of him like your dad… but did you ever think that maybe he thinks of you like a son?”

“Sometimes.  He… his first wife and kids died in a fire—his family. He was suspended because he didn’t disclose some stuff related to their death when I was in my accident.”

“So he already lost one family and then saw you injured?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you think he felt?”

“I think I scared him.  And then… I threw up the blood right in front of him at his house.  No wonder he doesn’t trust me.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Mamo disagreed. 

“How would you know?”

“I’m a father and a grandfather. If he feels at all like you do about him being family then I would be scared to let you come back.”

“Enough to write a letter stoping me from returning?”

Mamo hummed.  “Give him time.”

“How much?” Buck grumbled.  If nothing else he was going to finish this sanding job by the time Steve came back. 

Speaking of which, where was Steve?  It was getting late.   “Where is Steve?  I thought he’d be back by now…”

Mamo noted the angle of the sun which was getting closer to the horizon.  “Well… if he does not show up shortly you are welcome to stay for dinner.  I caught some ono this morning.”

“Thanks.”  He shot off a text to both Danny as well as Chin since Steve hadn’t replied to the one he’d sent earlier and it was still unread. 

***

An hour later—when he’d been with Mamo for almost four and been fed a really delicious fish dinner—Buck finally got a text from Danny.  

Stay put.  We’re coming to pick you up.

Puzzled, Buck replied, ???

I’ll let our paranoid and crazy leader explain when we get there was the terse response. In Danny parlance that meant something had gone down. Mamo was cool with Buck hanging out but it was getting late and his wife and he had settled in to watching some tv reruns and were educating Buck about their favorite classics—Chips, Magnum PI—when Steve finally appeared with Danny in tow. 

The stormy look on Steve’s face instantly had Buck straightening and on high alert, picking up on Steve operating at DEFCON levels of situational awareness. Something bad had happened. 

 

Understand one thing

If and when you drink from this vast ocean

You can’t control it

Na, na, na you can’t control it

***

Danny

He should have known not to tempt fate.  He’d said her name and it was like summoning a demon. If there was one person that Danny truly hated, it was probably Doris McGarrett for what she’d done to Steve and continued to do every time she popped by just for a visit. 

Danny would have liked to blame all the damage to Steve on the navy, but he knew it’d all started with Doris and her spy games bleeding over into the McGarrett family life.  Why would it surprise anyone that she’d continually damage her biological children because of a guilty attachment to one of her marks that she couldn’t give up? 

It surprised Danny not at all.  His internal bull shit meter had hit the red zone when he’d been introduced to her.  Steve had wanted to please her—had been trying so damn hard it was painful to watch—but Danny hadn’t forgotten the details and how she’d been absent from Steve’s life for decades.

At least emotionally absent.  Danny wouldn’t put it past her to have a hand in some of the worst assignments Steve had received that was too classified to discuss.  The scraps of information and the careful way Steve edged around things sometimes told Danny more than if Steve would have just handed him the mission report. 

There were times he needed to remind Steve that he was a detective with an impressive solve ratio before meeting him.  He could connect dots—thank you very much. 

He did not keep it a secret from Steve how much he detested Doris McGarrett. Nor did he trust her an inch when it came to Steve.  She hadn’t shown her face yet, but he was sure it was a matter of time. 

Long familiar with Steve’s aneurysm face, Danny did not like this particular pinched version of it.  When Bullfrog had betrayed him, it had hurt deeply even if Steve managed to hide it from others mostly. Joe—however—was another matter.

Joe had always seemed to know just a bit too much about what Doris was up to.  Danny had questioned the man’s loyalty a few times, but he’d always come through in ways that could be construed to favor Steve over Doris.

Now… Danny wasn’t so sure he wanted to trust Joe to keep to Steve’s side of things. He’d known Doris a long time—before he’d even been Steve’s teacher. 

Hearing only one side of the conversation, he could still piece together things. 

Joe had known about Wo Fat getting out of prison.  

Danny was waiting on the camera footage that hadn’t been scrubbed per the Warden.  The CIA was thorough, but Warden Doyle liked Danny and had noticed that the agents had missed one of the cameras.  

He’d also made copies of the paperwork they’d insisted he couldn’t keep. 

Doyle was old school—he believed in trust but verify and always kept copies of questionable requests. 

Per the warden, Wo Fat had been released into the custody of a pair of Company agents.  A man and a woman.  The brief description had made his blood boil, but he’d wait until he had confirmation to tell Steve.

No sense accusing Doris prematurely.  He’d have evidence shortly.  

Idly he wondered if this would finally be enough for Steve to cut ties with Doris.  He was going to protect Steve from her either way.  

She’d done enough damage for a lifetime already.  Danny would be here for the fallout and the aftermath.  He had Steve’s back. 

Leaving Steve to call Hondo in his office, he took his time making a new pot of coffee. Someone—probably Kono because she had taste—had replaced the Folgers brand that the department supplied because it was cheap with Kona.  The aroma of the coffee as it brewed settled his nerves just a bit, reminding him of long work days that stretched into all-night stakeouts. 

Danny was sometimes sentimental about his work.  There was a certain kind of romanticism to a detective’s work that had drawn him to becoming one. 

He had firmly quashed the slight feeling of guilt for not telling Steve that he was sending Grace and Charlie to Jersey when he’d bought the tickets. The night Kono had gone missing, he’d called his old captain and asked for help watching over his family as there’d been this niggling in the back of his brain that if whoever they were after was going after husbands, then the rest of their families weren’t safe. 

Now that they had confirmation it was Wo Fat, he was glad he’d followed his instincts.

Grace had known the moment he’d walked through the door that something terrible had happened that night.  Years of being a cop’s daughter had honed her instincts for when to be on the lookout, so all it’d taken was a soft, ‘watch your brother’ for her to take it on as seriously as one of Steve’s missions.

God help him if Grace follows Steve’s example into the Navy.  She looked up to her Uncle Steve too much for his sanity some days. 

At least he’d finally convinced Steve not to leave grenades hidden in the couch cushions where Charlie could find them. There’d been a near miss when he’d first started staying with Danny, and he’d needed Steve’s help with being a new dad again, which had resulted in temporarily cohabitating for a few weeks.

Hence the no longer hiding grenades in the couch—and maybe a numeric lock on the weapons locker under the stairs that looked like it belonged in a prepper’s bunker. 

When the coffee was made, he poured a cup for Steve and added one of the small pats of butter they kept in the fridge just for Steve and now Buck, he supposed.  Steve was done with his call when he brought it to him.

“Kid with Mamo?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you text Chin with your new rules?”  They weren’t really new—they’d had to have rules like this before, but none of them liked it.  They all got too tense and snappy when their leashes got too tight.  The last time had been because of Reyes and Danny had been rotting away in a Colombian jail cell. Joe had been involved that time too. 

“No, but I will.”

Making a humming noise of agreement, Danny retook his chair, noticing he had a new email from Doyle. Clicking on it, he saw scans of cell phone pictures of hardcopy paperwork for prisoner release of one Wo Fat to the custody of Special Agent Barbara Carter and Senior Agent Michael Rothschild. 

Doyle had even managed to get pictures of the IDs that had been submitted.  Doris McGarrett’s face stared up from Barbara’s while Joe’s was on Rothschild’s.  

Internally, Danny winced.  He was hoping that Joe hadn’t been directly involved, but it appeared he’d been wrong. 

“What are you reading?” Steve asked, the tone too casual.

He had only a split second to decide whether to tell Steve now or later.  

Giving in to his instincts, Danny turned the monitor screen so Steve could see the pictures.

Steve’s face shuttered, expression closing off except for his eyes that went flinty gray like a winter sky right before a blizzard, sending shivers down Danny’s back. 

He was looking at the version of Steve he associated with rumors of black ops that went by innocuous names like Strawberry Fields.  

Danny wasn’t afraid of him but seeing Steve like this… he knew why others were. 

“So Joe was there,” Steve said softly, but it was like unsheathing a blade it was so cold.  As Danny watched, Steve’s inner barriers were raised until those walls were higher than when he’d first met him. The rigid line of shoulder and spine, the tightly coiled strain of muscles ready to react with deadly force… 

Danny silently uttered a prayer to Saint Anthony and Saint Michael out of habit. His Nonna’s habit of praying for people was reflexive for him when things like this happened. He’d let Steve do what he needed to do to get through this, and then Danny would carefully tear them down when it was safe to do so. 

He wasn’t letting Steve become like a navy robot permanently but understood Steve’s need for it now. 

“So what do we do now?” He asked Steve.

“We wait.  Wo Fat wants something.”

“You usually. Suffering,” Danny pointed out. Wo Fat seemed to do a lot of things just to make Steve suffer.

“He got what he wanted—Doris.”  Steve paused, cocking his head to the side as if something had just occurred to him. “Unless she didn’t tell him what he wanted.”

That was a good point.  “So what does he want from you then?”

“I don’t know,” Steve growled, both hands curling around his coffee cup, fingers overlapping. 

Steve’s phone chirping with an email alert ended their discussion. From the look on Steve’s face, it was the intel from Joe. 

Saying nothing, Steve left Danny’s office to go brood in his own. 

***

Danny immersed himself back in the finacial records he’d been verifying.  He was reasonably confident that both their suspected HPD detectives were on the take from someone—whether that was Wo Fat or another intermediary, he wasn’t sure.  He had a few bank account numbers for transfers that he’d sent off warrant applications to access the records, but he didn’t think he’d find anything too interesting. 

Wo Fat was smart.  He’d use shell companies, and then it’d be like trying to trace a phone call bouncing from company to company and account to account to try and figure out where the actual source of the funds had been. 

Pessimistically Danny thought that all they needed was for Victor Hesse to resurrect from the dead to complete the ultimate trifecta of criminality. They had Wo Fat and Sang Min already.  All that was missing from Steve’s worst hits was the man who’d killed his father. 

Not that Danny wanted to tempt fate.  He had no wish to encounter a zombified version of Hesse. 

He might have made a check of his list of offenders they’d put away and their current incarceration status to get an idea of who might pop in from the past. It was a long list, but he kept it updated every few weeks. 

Looking at the clock, it was almost seven. He’d really lost track of time. Grace’s and Charlie’s flight was a late night one—he’d planned that on purpose so they’d hopefully sleep most of the first leg.  A retired Jersey cop that Danny knew had been vacationing on Oahu and agreed to provide supervision for the journey. 

Mick was a good guy, and he’d waved off Danny’s attempt to pay him saying he’d be happy to keep an eye on Danny’s kids. 

Rachel had been less than impressed, but she hadn’t argued.  She knew Danny wouldn’t do this unless he felt he had to. 

Steve’s light was still on in his office, but Danny had been so engrossed he hadn’t heard anything in a while. “Hey Babe?  You ask Chin to pick up Buck?”

The sound of Steve’s feet falling off the corner of his desk was accompanied by swearing that was too soft for Danny’s ears to pick up. “I forgot,” Steve growled as he stomped past. 

“Wait—no going anywhere alone. Especially you,” Danny called out as he locked his computer. 

Steve halted in his tracks, waiting for Danny but not looking at him. 

For a moment, Danny almost suggested they have Buck move in with Chin. Letting Steve shut down like this was going to do damage… and Danny was able to stand it for a little while.  On the other hand, having Buck there as someone who’d trained with Steve and someone Steve was used to having to command and protect might be better. 

Even this shut down, Steve would never allow harm to anyone he considered his people. 

It would be better to have Steve take care of Buck—give him something to do. 

Danny maybe would need to apologize to Buck in advance. He was about ready to get smothered by his former CO’s attention. 

Buck probably also would have the best luck at keeping up with Steve physically. While Danny could swim, he wasn’t up for multi-mile swims every morning on top of the running Steve often did in the evening. 

Steve waited until Danny was next to him before heading to the parking lot.  He didn’t speak, focusing narrowly on the task at hand while constantly scanning their surroundings for hidden dangers.  His hand never drifted towards either his gun or any of the knives Danny knew he had on his body, his posture protective like he was Danny’s bodyguard. 

Danny tried not to be insulted by this.  He knew Steve was on high alert, and trying to take him out of it would not be good for either of them. 

It just hurt to see him like this. 

For Danny’s sanity alone, he was going to bunk with Chin.  Spending a week with Steve 24/7 like this would end with Danny trying to push his buttons too much, and they didn’t have that kind of time or energy to waste.

Steve being this way wasn’t maladaptive—it was probably for the best.

He just needed to keep telling himself that and stop himself from trying to push Steve out of his mental fortress. 

They took the truck but not before Steve checked all the wheel wells and dropped to the asphalt to take a quick look at the undercarriage while Danny texted Buck that they were on their way to pick him up. 

The ride to Mamo’s was primarily silent.  Steve hadn’t even turned on the radio, his eyes roving their surroundings and fists tight around the steering wheel. His forearms would become rigid whenever another car got too close, and Steve purposefully sped up to go through yellow lights that were more red than yellow. 

For his part, Danny kept an eye on their rear to make sure they didn’t have a tail.  He did not see one but given the danger!danger! vibes Steve was giving off, he wouldn’t swear to it. 

Arriving at Mamo’s, Buck took one look at Steve and snapped to parade attention. He was wide-eyed and breathing quickly, like he was preparing to sprint at Steve’s command. 

“Get in the truck,” Steve ordered, and Buck snapped to, scrambling into the back despite his long legs. Steve exchanged a quick conversation with Mamo that Danny paid no attention to, but he noted how formal and stilted it was.  Mamo gave him a look behind Steve’s back that said, ‘what did you do now?’ 

Danny shrugged as Steve marched back to the truck. “Thanks, Mamo for talking to Buck.”

Mamo, watching Steve, sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Stevie’s ready to tear apart something.”

“He sure is,” Danny agreed, turning to leave himself. 

“Watch out for them both, Daniel.”

“Always.”

“Bring Buck back in two days.  I have more sanding for him to work on, and it will do him good.”

“Sure.”  Danny wasn’t sure what Mamo meant by sanding, but he’d go with it. 

Mamo let him join the others in the truck of silence. 

Buck was watching out the windows—mostly—but his eyes still kept darting to Steve, who was gripping the steering wheel two-handed while Danny put on his seat belt. 

“You wanna drop me off with Chin?”

Steve nodded instead of verbalizing his reply, turning the engine over. 

Buck waited until they were almost to the hospital before he broke the tense silence. “Did something happen?”

“Adam’s talking,” Danny told him when Steve didn’t say anything. “He said the guy who took Kono is Wo Fat.  Do you know anything about him?”

Buck paled under his tan. “That’s the guy that… he’s the reason Steve got arrested for killing the governor.”

“Yep—that’s him.  He has a grudge of epic proportions against Steve.  So we’re instituting the buddy system.”

With trepidation, Buck’s eyes ping-ponged between him and Steve. “So I’m with Chin?” He asked somewhat hopefully.

“Nope.  You’re with Steve.  You can keep up with him,” Danny added, feeling guilty again. 

“Kay,” Buck agreed, gaze falling. “Makes sense.”

“You are living with him at the moment,” Danny agreeably pointed out.

Steve—still stuck on silent mode—was perhaps a bit aggressive using his turn signal as they hit the H1, and he floored the gas pedal to shoot forward, darting around traffic that was thinning out at this time of night. 

They made it to Queens without anything more said.  Chin was waiting for him in the lobby, and he waved goodbye to Steve and Buck, glad to escape the silence of the truck.

Joining Chin, the Asian man looked tired. “You doing okay?”

“No,” Chin admitted. “How’s Steve?”

Danny had been updating Chin via their shared intel folders that they could access anywhere. “He’s doing about as well as you’re thinking.”

Chin winced. “And you left Buck with him?”

“Buck’s the only one of us with a chance of keeping up with him and won’t be driven nuts by Steve’s protective instincts.”

“Good point,” Chin agreed. “Still…”

“Do I wish I could tell him not to be this way?” Danny waved his hands ineffectually. “Yeah, of course, I do, but Steve might not be able to cope with this and function.”

Chin side-eyed him as they got into his car. “Normally you’d be poking him until he relaxed.”

“Not this time Chin.  Not this time.  He needs to get through this, then I’ll deal with the fallout.”

“If you’re sure…” Chin did not sound like he fully agreed, but he deferred to Danny’s close relationship with Steve. “I have my go bag in the trunk.  What time is Grace’s and Charlie’s flight?”

“Ten thirty.  I already checked them in.  Just need to pick them up and get to the airport.”

“Okay.”

***

Saying goodbye at the gate to his children always broke his heart. Grace’s arms were getting longer, and she clung to him for just a moment, tucking her chin that was so like her mom’s into his neck. 

“Danno,” she whispered, “Is everything okay?”

Kissing her forehead, he ran his hand through her ponytail, which was getting so long now. “It’s going to be.  I just need you to listen to Mick and take care of your brother.  Nonna and Grandpa are so excited to see you.”

Grace was past the time when she was able to be distracted by mentions of her grandparents. She knew that this wasn’t a trip that had been scheduled way in advance, and him not going with them meant that something terrible was happening. Rather than ask for details, she smartly chose instead, “Love you, Danno.”

“Love you too Monkey.” He pressed another kiss to the crown of her head before she stepped away, reaching for her carry-on suitcase. 

Charlie, who’d been wrapped around Danny’s leg, was gathered into his arms next. “Danno,” he said sleepily, trying to curl into Danny’s arms, his mop of dark blonde hair sticking up this way and that, badly in need of a trim, or he was going to start looking like one of those North Shore kids who had been surfing since they were two.  It was way past his bedtime. 

“Hey little man,” he whispered. “Watch your sister for me?”

“Yes, Danno,” Charlie said around an enormous yawn, showing off his tonsils.  His tiny hands gripped Danny’s shirt as he tried to snuggle into him. 

Mick, who’d been watching in amusement, reached out to take Charlie.  “I’ve got him, Danny.”

Charlie was almost asleep and did not protest as he was handed off between adults. He was still at the age where he was trusting.  Due to tiredness, he curled up comfortably into Mick’s big chest. 

Danny wanted to pull his children back to his side but knew he couldn’t.  He needed them safely away. 

“Love you both,” he said. “Safe trip.  Grace, call me when you land in San Diego.”

“Yes, Danno.”  Grace’s footsteps were reluctant as she followed Mick, Mick’s wife, and Charlie up to the gate, constantly looking back to see if Danny was still there. 

Danny didn’t move until they disappeared down the gangway and the gate door was closed behind them. 

He wasn’t going to sleep until Grace called him to say she was safely on the west coast. 

With the procession underway

Understand the magnitude of the melodies that they make

Did your lungs fill with rage?

What’s the matter did catastrophe get your tongue tied in the fray?

When the band began to play

Daddy wiped the tears away, he said son…

***

Eddie

Watching over Christopher’s shoulder as Buck read him a bedtime story, two things occurred to Eddie. 

First was that Buck was basically co-parenting Christopher with him at this point.  With his parents he was fiercely defensive of his rights as Christopher’s dad but he didn’t feel threatened by Buck in any way.  Just like at work Buck had slid right in next to him as his partner and helped with not just the physical parts of raising Christopher like school pick ups, making sure he was fed or kept amused but also the emotional parts of being a parent.   Christopher looked to Buck for comfort and protection which Buck instinctively did, following Eddie’s cues when necessary. 

Eddie couldn’t remember ever feeling like Buck was overstepping with Christopher. He had felt that way with Shannon.  Had wanted to keep Christopher to himself and protect him from her.  The tangled mess of emotions around Shannon and her leaving had him unable to trust her. 

Looking back Eddie almost couldn’t believe he’d been planning on trying to make another go with her.  The only reason it hadn’t ended in a bigger mess was that Shannon had died and taken herself out of the picture permanently before it could. 

Buck was different than anyone else.  He allowed Christopher to be cared for by Abuela and Pepa.  He employed Carla who was a godsend but was Carla—not a replacement for a parent.  Athena, Hen, Karen, and even May sometimes watched Christopher but they were more babysitters or pseudo-aunts. 

Buck was all but in name Christopher’s other dad… and he was completely fine with this.   Frank had talked about identifying when he wasn’t okay with and what he wasn’t okay with.  This was something he had no problems with.  

He’d made the right choice regarding Christopher if something were to happen to him.   His lawyer’s other questions about who Buck was to them rattled around in his head. At the time he’d been completely thrown by the presumptive question but now it all made sense. 

Had he been in love with Buck then?  

When had he not been in love with Buck?  

Maybe it was when Buck had driven him to pick up Chris after the earthquake or had it been before that?  He could still remember the adrenalin rush of pulling that grenade out of that guy’s leg and how Buck had looked at him and said maybe he could have Eddie’s back too…

It didn’t matter really. What mattered was that he was stupidly in love with his best friend who he’d managed to hurt badly.

He mentally repeated the promise he’d made: he’d always be there for Buck. Whatever he needed Eddie would be there and have his back.  They’d talk first before letting anything tear them apart because they were important to each other. 

The other thing he’d noticed was Buck looked both better and worse than when he’d last laid eyes on him via a screen. Buck was putting on a good show but there was something in the line of his jaw for just a moment and the way his shoulders were curled in like he was waiting for an attack.  He was still telling an animated story to Christopher involving a Hawaiian god named Maui and a magic fishhook. The story had come from Steve who’d just briefly shown up on screen at the beginning of the call and he’d also been coiled a bit too tight. 

Eddie remembered his first impression of Steve and the way he’d made a shiver go down his back to alert him that he was a SFO. The brief eye contact Steve had made with him made him think that Steve was trying to tell him something without speaking, his hand squeezing on Buck’s shoulder in support before he’d slid out of frame. 

When Chris was finally out like a light, Eddie carefully slid the table out of his grasp. Holding his hand up in a ‘shhh’ motion to Buck, he carefully tucked the blankets around Chir and removed his glasses to place them in their usual spot on the bedside table where they could be easily reached in the morning. 

Grabbing the tablet, he slunk out of his son’s room and closed the door but didn’t speak until he’d reached the couch. “What’s going on?”

Buck flinched but tried to recover quickly. “Nothing.”

“Buck.”  Eddie watched Buck’s expression closely as he rubbed his face in fatigue. “What happened?”

Buck’s mouth twisted unhappily. “Adam woke up.”

“And?  That’s a good thing.”

Buck shrugged, brow furrowing in worry. “Yeah.  But it’s what he told us that’s the problem.”

“Which was what?”  Eddie didn’t like it when he had to draw all the details out of Buck like this. It usually meant something bad was brewing and he wasn’t there to have Buck’s back. 

“The guy who he said was behind the kidnapping is an old… problem of Steve’s.”

Eddie’s eyebrows flew up.  “Problem?  Like a Seal problem?”

“No,” Buck denied quickly. “Or at least not while I was on the team.  It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Not for this you don’t,” Buck insisted. “You got a shift tomorrow.  You need to sleep.”

“Buck….” Eddie tried but Buck just looked away from him on the screen, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Just… please be careful?” Buck finally said. “I don’t think that this guy would go after anyone not here but…”

Now very worried, Eddie tried again. “Buck what happened?”

Buck’s eyes were shuttered when he finally looked back at Eddie. On screen, he was pale under his tan and his jaw was clenched. “The guy who went after Adam and Kono did it to get to Steve.  I don’t think they’d do anything in LA but just… just be careful.”

“Buck—“

“I can’t talk about it.  It’s an active investigation.”  The look in Buck’s eyes was pleading with him to drop it and it rang alarm bells in Eddie’s head. Just what was Buck involved in?  Buck was stonewalling him and it sounded like it wasn’t safe there in Hawaii.  

For just a split second, Eddie thought about asking him to come home before he remembered their prior conversation. 

He’d said he’d give Buck time.  

Eddie needed to respect Buck’s decisions even if it worried the heck out of him. 

Sighing, Eddie slumped into the couch cushions.  If Buck was like this then he’d do as asked.  “What should I be on the lookout for?”

“The guy’s name is Wo Fat.  I’ll send you a picture of him.”  

Eddie’s phone pinged with a message that looked like a mug shot of an Asian guy in a orange prison uniform.  Half his face was scarred like it’d been burnt, the skin pulled over unnatural ridges while the other was mildly handsome. The dark eyes were full of banked hatred and the faint curl to the lip was a bitten back snarl.  It was like looking at an Asian version of the Batman villain Two-Face. 

“Steve said we stay in pairs—no going off alone.  He’s really serious about this Eddie,” Buck confessed, those ocean blue eyes clouded with enough worry to make Eddie understand just how serious this Wo Fat guy was. 

“You’ll be careful?” He couldn’t help but ask Buck to promise him this. If someone like Steve was this worried then Eddie would worry right along with him—for Buck not himself.  Buck had a tendency to throw himself in the way of whatever harm was coming and just the thought of Buck being taken like Kono had made him want to pace in agitation. 

LA was a long way from Hawaii.

Eddie needed to make sure Buck understood him. “You’ve got me and Christopher. You’ve got Maddie.  You’ve got people that want you safe that care about you—the entire 118.  You’re not expendable or replaceable.”  

He’d said too much, biting the inside of his cheek as he saw Buck’s eyes dart away again and he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes shaded by thick curly lashes. His dark blonde hair was getting long and it was free of gel allowing Buck’s natural curls free.  Eddie wanted to run his fingers through it and soothe Buck. 

“Please Ev,” the plea escaped before he could pull it back. 

Buck paused and his hand dropped away before he turned his chin up to look at Eddie, gaze intent as he met Eddie’s before giving a decisive nod. “Yeah.  I’ll be careful Eds.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, dropping his own gaze to Christopher’s closed door.  The picture of the three of them that had been taken on their last weekend trip to the zoo—right after the tsunami—was hanging on the wall next to the door. Buck and Christopher’s smiles were a bit tight as they clung to each other with Eddie behind them both as they’d asked someone else to take their photo.  They’d all needed that day, Buck’s head tilted so Chris could tuck himself in to his neck, curls springing everywhere.  It’d been windy so Buck had reached up at the last minute to tangle his fingers in and pull them away so they could get the photo…

Between Buck’s curls and Chris’…. 

Jesus.  There were times he saw just as much of Buck in his kid as he did himself—maybe even more. 

“What’re you looking at?” Buck asked softly, drawing his attention back to the screen. 

“That photo we took at the zoo.”

“Which one?”

Eddie stood, bringing the tablet with him so he could show Buck the photo. Eddie said, “It was a good day.”

Buck’s gaze went unfocused, his shoulders had fully relaxed and—well—he was looking like that at Christopher and him. The slight crinkle around the eyes that seemed to sparkle with emotion, lips quirked up at the corners and lips plump and pink to match his birthmark, teeth catching in the lower one just a bit.  “It was.  I can’t tell you how much I needed that day at the time.”

Eddie made an agreeable grunt, unsure what else to say.  What was there to say?  It’d been a great day with his family. They’d been safe and walking from the elephants to the primate house they’d stopped for a ridiculously overpriced lunch.  By the time the zoo closed they’d all been sunburnt and happy, loose smiles on their faces. 

That’d been only two weeks before the lawsuit. 

Two weeks before Buck and he had stopped communicating. 

“Eds—don’t.”

Clearing his throat, he turned the screen back.  Buck was watching him carefully. “Don’t what?”

“Blame yourself.  We’ve talked about it.”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

A chuckle escaped as Buck ducked his head in sudden shyness to hide a smile. “Deal.”

The tension broken, neither of them wanted to talk about anything else that was serious and shortly thereafter, Eddie found himself saying goodnight to Buck.

“Watch your back for me,” he said so he wouldn’t say ‘love you’ by accident,

“And you watch yours,” Buck admonished before waving goodbye and disconnecting the call. 

Eddie sat in silence in his darkened living room for more than a few moments missing Buck before reluctantly retiring to his bed. 

Frank was going to have a field day with his realizations about Buck being Christopher’s other dad. 

***

For all their talk about watching their own backs, Eddie slept remarkably well.  

The sense of peace lasted until about twenty minutes into his shift the next day. 

“Eddie gear up—Chim you’ve got the winch,” Bobby ordered on their first call of the day.  Moving to comply, Eddie tried not think about how Bobby was throwing him back into the middle of a rope rescue after only one shift back.  Granted his injuries hadn’t been as serious as Buck’s but…

Putting it out of his mind, he refocused on rappelling down a steep hillside to a car that was trapped in a tangle of brush in a series of switchbacks.  There was only a single woman in the car and she practically threw herself at Eddie before he could stop her, making the car wobble precipitously. 

“Ma’am stop!” He barked, making her freeze in wide eyed terror.  There was no visible blood and she was moving all her extremities, cell phone clutched tightly in her right hand. “Don’t move until i get the anchors placed.  While it was reassuring that she was able to move it was also problematic and she was one wrong movement away from making the car tumble further down the hillside and potentially taking Eddie with her.  

He kept up a constant soothing dialogue while he secured several anchors to the car frame interspersed with reminders to not move. He could hear the 911 operator repeating most of it—wasn’t able to determine who but it was a woman’s voice.  As soon as the basket was lowered, he carefully guided her into it and secured her.

Just as he was about to relay she was ready to be pulled up the car gave a shudder and there was the noise of something snapping.  The woman lunged for him, fingers locked on his harness making the basket knock into him hard enough that he knew he was going to have bruises. 

He may have bit his tongue hard enough to bleed as his ribs creaked in warning from the rough treatment. 

“You’re going to have to let me go,” he gritted out. 

“No,” she said. “Nonononononono.”

She wasn’t even looking at him.  Her fingers were a bit too close to the latch across his chest for comfort. “Let go,” he tried again.  “They’re ready to pull you up.”

All that got him was a shake of her head. She wasn’t looking at him but instead down the hill to the road and rocks a good fifty or more feet below. With Bosko back at her station and Buck in Hawaii they hadn’t yet gotten a replacement and Eddie had gotten the impression Bobby hadn’t asked for a floater for some reason. 

Bobby’s voice crackled through the radio, repeating the same thing he’d said less than a minute before, “Eddie we’re ready to bring her up.”  

“Give me a moment,” he growled into the radio. “Ma’am you need to let me go and you’ll be on your way up.”

“No,” she repeated stubbornly, frozen in her panic.  

Operating on instinct, Eddie wrapped his fingers around her wrists, counted mentally to three and yanked with all his strength. She tried to resist him and scrambled for a hold on his harness but he pushed her away at the same time making the basket swing away. Two things happened at once—the chest latch came undone and he yelled for Bobby to bring the woman up.  An uncontrolled ascent was better than having to punch her out. 

Luckily, the woman curled into the basket crying as it lifted away. Scrambling for his own line, he grabbed it with both hands to steady himself. The car that he’d had his feet braced on picked that moment to finally give way with a snap of the two anchors, one of which lashed out at him and narrowly missed. 

It came so close to his cheek he felt the rush of air as it passed by whip fast as his own held. 

Eddie could only watch as the car just fell away to bounce down the hillside then land with a mighty crunch of metal and plastic below. He’d shifted in his harness and it was now cutting into the loops around his arms and legs. Ignoring the aching, he loosened the chest strap and then reclipped it before tightening it to take some of the load of his weight off his arms. 

He was still dangling in mid air unsupported but now he didn’t feel like he was going to half-slip out of his harness.  Above he could see that the basket was being pulled in.  

“Eddie?” Chimney’s voice was worried over the radio. 

“Pull me up,” he said tiredly, hands clenched around his line. 

“Coming up now,” Chimney said as the line jolted then began pulling him up. 

When he made the top, Bobby was operating the winch while Hen and Chimney examined the woman who was sitting on the back of the ambulance.  She looked a little shell shocked and Eddie momentarily felt a bit guilty for almost punching her out before he remembered that she’d almost killed him which cancelled it out. 

Ignoring the woman, he started unbuckling his harness.  Where the loops had been around his legs and arms burned under the clothes—he probably had rope burn or bruises.  Bobby gave him a look of concern before he just went back to business to leave Eddie to sort himself out. 

It was just a look but it made every interaction he’d ever seen between Buck and Bobby in the last few months play back in his mind.  Was it that Bobby trusted him or that he didn’t trust Buck?  It for sure wasn’t equal treatment. 

Licking his lips, Eddie noticed his tongue was still bleeding from when he’d bit it.  Spitting the blood out, he pulled a water bottle out from where they stored them to rinse his mouth out and spat again. There was blood mixed with the water, turning it pink and he grimaced.  

He hated it when he bit his tongue. 

“Eddie?”  Bobby’s voice was odd as he called his name. 

Taking a drink, Eddie turned to face the captain. “Yeah?”

“You good?”  Bobby’s eyes were locked on his mouth. 

“Yeah…. Just bit my tongue when she knocked into me,” he explained. 

Bobby was pale as he nodded. “Pack up.  A wrecker has been called for clean up.”

Giving a loose salute, Eddie started packing away the gear.  Bobby didn’t stick close but instead sent Chimney to bother him about his tongue. 

***

The rest of the shift was oddly normal after starting off with a bang. One call blended into another but Eddie found himself analyzing everything that Bobby did. Other than that one odd moment with him after he’d bit his tongue, the man had returned to normal behavior. 

Eddie’d not been left behind on any call and been given normal assignments. No accommodation for just coming off sick leave—not that Eddie wanted it but he couldn’t help contrasting it to how Buck had been treated by all of them. 

Really he was surprised it had taken Buck this long to leave. 

Bobby really did treat Buck different.

For all that the LAFD required relationship disclosure paperwork and closely monitored when relatives worked together… there was no paperwork or monitoring for a captain acting more like a dad than a captain. 

Because Bobby did act like Buck’s dad sometimes.  It went both ways by Eddie’s observation. Only it wasn’t being monitored or having anyone to watch it to ensure a fair workplace.

Retiring to the bunks after a quick call to say goodnight to Christopher and Carla, he rolled over and pretended to be out when the others climbed into their own beds. 

Eddie didn’t sleep much between calls. He’d checked and he had deep bruising around his armpits and hips so he couldn’t quite get comfortable.

He was maybe slightly irritable when he was awakened for breakfast.  Athena was joining them and Bobby was making a full spread as the next shift started arriving. 

Normally Buck would be here acting as sous chef, excitably working around Bobby’s more controlled preparations. 

Buck’s absence felt like a stab to the chest he missed him so much. 

Athena’s arrival had Hen standing up to greet her with a hug and then Athena was giving Bobby a peck on the cheek before taking a seat.  Eddie avoided all the excitement, pouring himself a cup of coffee and huddling over it at the end of the table. 

He just wanted this shift to be over.  He had an appointment with Frank later today before picking Chris up from school. Hopefully he could get a nap in there somewhere. 

Bowls of scrambled eggs, cut up fruit, hashbrowns and a platter of bacon were set on the table and passed around as was a jug of orange juice.  Eddie focused on just shoveling in the food, letting everyone else talk.  Hen was telling Athena about something or other with Denny that normally Eddie wold have been interested in but he just didn’t have the energy or focus for. 

“—what do you think Eddie?”  Hen asked, bringing him forcefully into the conversation. “Or are you too busy with your food.”

Hen and Athena were both looking at him—actually all of them were. Awkwardly, he put his fork down and wiped his mouth as he swallowed the last bit of eggs. “What?”

“Hungry?” Athena asked, cradling her cup of coffee to hide the amused smile behind it. 

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Someone didn’t sleep well,” Chimney piped up.  “He was turning all night.  Kept waking me up.”

Eddie colored in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he muttered into his plate. 

“Something going on?” Athena asked in concern.  “Christopher doing okay?”

“Chris is fine,” he deflected. Usually he’d love nothing more than to talk but he just really wasn’t feeling up to it this morning. 

“Eddie had a rough rescue yesterday,” Bobby spoke up. 

Eddie paused.  Bobby hadn’t said anything about it all shift and he was picking now to bring it up?  “It was fine.”

“Are you sure? You were spitting blood.”  Bobby’s eyes pinned Eddie in place. His tone had been neutral but he was just toying with the food on his fork as he watched Eddie from the head of the table. 

Both of them were remembering when it had been Buck spitting up blood. 

“Why? You going to bench me for it? Like you did Buck?  Or do I need to have someone sign off on my medical clearance?”

Sometimes Eddie really needed to have better control over his mouth. 

The table fell completely silent. Everyone was looking at him. 

Wanting to escape, Eddie picked up his plate and dumped it in the sink before anything else could be said.  It was five minutes to eight—end of shift. 

Bobby could write him up if he wanted.  Eddie was leaving before he said anything else more damaging. 

He practically ran down the stairs, shoving past B shift arriving and heading to breakfast. 

“Eddie!” Athena called after him before he could make the locker room and he halted in his tracks.  He could hear her following him and he knew Athena wasn’t going to let him be. 

Her hands were gentle when she turned him around to face her and she didn’t let go—which was smart because he totally wanted to flee.  She was looking up at him with concern, lips pursed in a frown as her hand slipped up to cup his jaw. “You feeling okay baby?”

He pulled away at that, trying not to flinch at her concern. “Don’t.”

Athena looked like he’d struck her. 

“Sorry.  I’m… tell Bobby I’m sorry.  I have a session with Frank this afternoon.”  It was a weak excuse but he was using it. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He felt like his feet were encased in concrete and he couldn’t move until she released him. “I’ll tell him,” she finally agreed, letting him escape. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he shrunk away to grab his bag and left before anyone else could say anything more. 

He’d screwed up again. 

***

Eddie heard the movement of footsteps in the sand behind him but he didn’t turn to look.  He thought he’d be left alone as long as he made it to his appointment with Frank later. He’d come here specifically to think—Eddie wasn’t interested in any more explanations or excuses or apologizing for saying something he probably shouldn’t have that was still bugging him constantly. 

Buck had been treated unfairly. Eddie hadn’t had his back. 

He’d just over corrected more than just a bit. 

“This patch of sand taken?” Was the quiet enquiry. 

This made Eddie look away from the partially destroyed pier and the calm waves of the Santa Monica beach.  The memory of the tsunami clung to this place and in the middle of the week it was practically deserted at this hour of the morning adding to the desolate atmosphere. 

The joggers and beach combers still hadn’t returned or been replaced. 

He shouldn’t have told Deacon that he sometimes came here to think when he wanted to be alone.  It was—in Frank’s words—potentially self-destructive since he was thinking about how things easily could have had a different outcome that day Buck and Christopher had gone to the pier.  He could have permanently lost them both in one big, disastrous wave.  He didn’t turn to look at Deacon as he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Athena was worried,” Deacon explained as he sat next to Eddie, disturbing the sand and stretching out his long legs out as he took off his shoes.  Shoes that were just as sand filled as Eddie’s had been before being removed. 

“Was she?” That came out sharper than he’d meant to. While Eddie sometimes let Athena mother him, surely she was on her husband’s side not his.

“She was.  She didn’t tell me what was going on but wanted me to check on you.”

“Because I make such great choices,” Eddie bit back.  That was unwarranted. Deacon had been a friend to him more than a parole officer that the original agreement had him as. It was just that watching the difference between how Bobby treated him and Buck had just set him off.  

He was beginning to realize just how angry he was at Bobby for not being truthful about why Buck hadn’t been back by his side.  Why Buck had sued to try and get back to work.  How Bobby had kept them apart…

“I actually think she was worried you were so upset that you might get hurt again.  She didn’t tell me why—just asked me to find you and make sure you were okay.”  Deacon was calm, measured. He didn’t take offense and was patiently waiting Eddie out. 

Sometimes Eddie wished Deacon would take offense—he was being unreasonable and he knew it. He thought he’d worked on not being this way but the backslide rankled. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

Again with the reasonableness. 

Eddie struggled a moment internally with how to, as Frank said, use his words.  He could almost see Buck saying that to him too. Looking at his hands, they were covered in sand that clung to his skin making it dusty and rough. “Some days... all I can do is focus on making sure Christopher is getting what he needs—that he’s taken care of. Everything else? It’s... I just don’t....”

Deacon was quiet and listening attentively but didn’t interrupt despite Eddie’s struggle. Maybe he should just explain...

“I.... I didn’t know that Bobby had made the recommendation to bench Buck that set off... everything.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie licked his lips, feeling the grit of the sand that had been blowing around in the wind. “Every day.... some days are worse than others.  After Afghanistan I really.... it was tough coming back to a civilian life. I couldn’t stay in Texas.... my parents tried to file legally to take Christopher away from me and my wife—Shannon—was gone.”

Deacon sharply inhaled. “They what?”

He felt like he was swallowing glass it hurt so much to talk about this but he needed to get it out.  Frank had been poking around this a bit lately but Eddie hadn’t been able to verbalize it to the shrink—it was why he was pretty sure he wasn’t made to go to a therapist. He really just wanted to talk to Buck but maybe Deacon... yeah. “They had the paperwork all filled out and asked me to voluntarily sign Christopher over to them.”

“Eddie....” Deacon had a horrified look on his face.  “Why would they?!?”

Swallowing against the tightness again, Eddie shook his head in denial. “I wasn’t doing well when I got back and Shannon had just left.  I had... I was trying to just focus on doing what was right for Christopher and we had a few disagreements about... about what a kid with a disability should be able to do.  They kept it from me right until they put the paperwork in front of me asking me to sign them. To give them full custody of Christopher because I wasn’t being careful enough with him. I was seeing a counselor at the VA then and they said.... I was worried that they’d use my own medical records against me.  I wasn’t diagnosed with PTSD or anything but I had some symptoms and... I couldn’t keep talking to the counselor and risk that.”

“Eddie... they couldn’t... it doesn’t work that way.”

“It was voluntary they said.  It would be doing the right thing for Christopher.  That I was being too... dangerous with him.  I....” He struggled to find the words to explain. “I didn’t want Christopher to be held back. He’s capable of so much and they wanted... want to put him in this protective bubble so he’ll never...”

“They want to limit him,” Deacon guessed and Eddie nodded in relief that Deacon understood. 

“Yes.  But that’s not what Christopher needs. Buck gets that.”

“So what does that have to do with Bobby?” Deacon cocked his head, not seeing the point Eddie was trying to make.  

He was making a mess of trying to explain.  This was why he didn’t want to ever talk to anyone—it was so messed up even in his own brain how could he adequately explain his fears?  

“So I moved from Texas to LA. Got a job at the 118. I.... I had my Abuela and Pepa but I couldn’t....”

“Trust them?”

Eddie shrugged. “No... they supported me. It’s why I moved here... but I...”

“You didn’t have a partner,” Deacon guessed and then tilted his head back when Eddie nodded. “It’s not the same having family versus a spouse or partner who’s always there.”

“No it’s not.  I thought maybe Shannon.... but I didn’t know what to do or how to reach out.  She’d been gone for two years by then.”

“That’s a long time to be raising a kid by yourself when your family isn’t supportive,” the other man observed sadly. 

“Yeah. I missed the.... the way that I was with my unit before everything happened. Trust is big you know? I thought when I got home that my family would... that they’d support me but nobody was interested in just... in just letting me be and letting me have space to figure it out. They all wanted something from me or didn’t have time for me to figure out how to be normal again.  Then my first day at the 118 Buck is all in my face and I thought for a second that LA was going to be the same as El Paso that I’d have to move along at some point—that it was just a stop for now.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“No.  I.... I told myself that letting anyone close was just going to end up like my parents or my wife.”

Deacon brushed his shoulder against Eddie’s in support. “So what happened?”

Eddie found himself smiling sadly at the memory. “Buck and I.... our second day we had to pull a live grenade out of a guy’s leg.”

“What?”

“I knew what I was doing,” Eddie protested. “Buck... he didn’t hesitate. He jumped in the ambulance with me despite us having had a few words earlier that day.”

“He trusted you?”

“Yeah.  And he... he didn’t hesitate. I told him that he could have my back any day....”. He’d meant it then and he still meant it.  Eddie knew he hadn’t done a good job of it lately but he still very much meant it with everything he had. “Buck he... when he found out I had Christopher the first thing he did was tell me he loved kids.... then he tried to reassure me that Chris would be fine at school.”

“I sense there’s more to that story...”

“Yeah. It was during that big earthquake almost two years ago. I couldn’t get a hold of the school but Buck knew all these building code facts about how Chris was probably in the safest place he could be in. He kept it up until I believed him....”

Another nudge of the shoulder in support. “Sounds like Buck really had your back.”

“He did.  I... I didn’t realize it but he just jumped right over all the barriers I’d made to keep people out and made himself at home before I could figure out how to keep him out. He... I trust him more than I did Shannon—my wife,” Eddie let his voice trail off.  He hadn’t really thought it out until he said it but it was true. Buck had easily avoided all the mental barriers that he had constructed to keep people at a distance—family and friends—since Afghanistan. Buck had made himself right at home next to Christopher in his life without him even having time to notice or protest. This made Buck’s absence even more painful as it was a gaping hole in his life. He’d screwed up so much. 

“Your dead wife?” Deacon prompted him. 

The chuckle that escaped sounded pained. “Yeah. My dead wife. Although she wouldn’t have been my wife for much longer....”

Deacon frowned. “What do you mean?”

Deciding he might as well just tell Deacon the whole sordid mess, Eddie hunched his shoulders but tried to get it all out at once. “Shannon tried to get back into Chris’ and my life—said she was going to be there for us again and I foolishly let myself hope that maybe... maybe I could do the right thing. Fix things. Chris was so happy to see his mom again and I... I thought maybe we could be a family again.”

“That’s understandable—“

“No.  I mean,” Eddie paused and took a deep breath. “I let myself hope that maybe it would work this time. I even bought her a new ring and I’d taken her out to a nice restaurant... but she handed me divorce papers.”

“What?”

A few tears leaked out of his eyes and he angrily wiped at them with a sniffle. “Shannon served me divorce papers the night I thought I was going to ask her to move back in and we could try again to be a family.”

Deacon gaped at him. 

Eddie decided to let the last painful detail loose. “She died the next day—car accident. Died in my arms since we were the house called to the scene.”

“Oh god.  Eddie I’m—“

“What? Sorry? Why?  It wasn’t your fault.  She’d made her decision to leave and then left permanently.”  He couldn’t meet Deacon’s eyes and glared out at the water. He was still bitterly angry at Shannon for coming back into Christopher’s life and then leaving again. 

Neither of them spoke for a moment. 

“You’re angry with her,” Deacon observed before muttering, “I’d be angry with her.”

“Yeah,” he bit out. “I am angry with her but it’s hard to be angry with someone that’s dead. I feel like...an asshole for admitting it though. She didn’t mean to leave us—me.”

Deacon was silent for a moment. “You feel like she abandoned you.”

Abandoned.  That was a great label for what he was feeling. “Yeah. Abandoned—the thing that sucks the most?  Nobody knew about the divorce papers other than Buck.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  I guess... I thought if everyone knew then they’d know it was my fault she left.”  It had been his fault.  Shannon hadn’t wanted to be married to him anymore. Maybe who he was really angry at was himself. 

“I don’t think that.”

Eddie’s head snapped up to look at Deacon. “What?”

Deacon took another moment, choosing his words carefully. “Marriages are a two way street—it’s not your fault or at least not yours alone. It sounds to me like you actually wanted to make things work. That you were trying.  To me that doesn’t mean your were at fault.”

Eddie thought over Deacon’s words. “But it is my fault. I wasn’t enough to make her want to stay.  I... I left first with my deployments and I was never there for her.”

“In the past maybe,” Deacon interrupted. “But I’ve seen you with Christopher and I have to disagree. Someone who decides to move to try and do the best for their kid isn’t leaving—you came to LA where your wife was right?”

“Well yeah but—“

“But nothing.  You were trying to reach out. To make things work right?”

“Yeah....” Kinda. Sorta. Deacon was giving him more credit than he deserved. 

“Then I don’t know what else you could have done Eddie. Sometimes relationships don’t work out and sometimes it’s too late for reasons that are beyond our control.”

He let Deacon’s words sink in. Eddie understood what Deacon was saying and he theoretically got it but it didn’t change how angry he sometimes felt towards Shannon. “I just still... I get so angry sometimes.”

“To me that seems a valid feeling given what happened.”  Deacon carefully laid a hand on Eddie’s bare forearm, fingers warm as he squeezed in support. 

“Yeah but how do I feel anything other than angry?  I just want to stop being so angry all the time.”  He was so tired of being angry all the time and it seemed to color everything. It’d gotten so much worse once he’d been ordered to not talk to Buck with the lawsuit and he’d lost the one person he’d gotten used to using as his sounding board. Buck was his confident and partner. He’d been more like a spouse than Shannon had been even before they’d gotten married and actually talked about more than parenting stuff. He talked to Buck about everything. Buck was always the first to know, the first he told about things, the person he planned everything with. 

And then it’d stopped. Because Buck had been hurt and Bobby had made the recommendation that he couldn’t come back to work.  

Eddie had trusted that Bobby would be fair with Buck.  Buck who was second only to Christopher in Eddie’s life.  Sure Eddie had cut off communication with Buck—that was on him—but he’d trusted Bobby because Buck had. 

He’d been ignoring Deacon who kept repeating his name,”...Eddie?”

“I think... I think I know why it got so bad.”

Deacon hadn’t released his arm and his brow was deeply furrowed in concern. “What do you mean?”

“When Buck filed the lawsuit it wasn’t too long after the tsunami. Christopher was having nightmares almost every night and.... he’d wake up crying and I had a lot of trouble soothing him.  I couldn’t... I was pretty sure he was having flashbacks and nightmares and he would wake up crying for Buck most of the time but sometimes he’d ask for Shannon too.  When he’d ask for Buck we’d call him and just talking to Buck was usually enough for Chris to settle down enough that I was enough.  The nights when he was asking for Shannon I couldn’t do anything but hold him and he’d cry and cry....

Deacon was fixed on Eddie’s words, waiting to hear the next part and his hand squeezed in comfort around Eddie’s forearm. “Eddie....”

“Let me finish.  Part of the lawsuit was that we were told we couldn’t talk to Buck by the union lawyers.  None of us. Not Bobby, Hen or Chimney without a lawyer present or we’d potentially be putting our own jobs at risk.” He paused... and then added, “ And I couldn’t speak to him either.  Chris had a good week the week before—no more phone calls to Buck at 2 AM for almost two weeks.  And the night after I was told that I couldn’t talk to Buck, Chris had another one.  He cried for what felt like hours and didn’t understand why I couldn’t call his Bucky.  I almost did and I wouldn’t have cared at all if I lost my job over it.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie rubbed his face with his hands, feeling so tired just remembering how sleep deprived he’d been. “I got Chris into a child psychologist the next day I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Did it help?”

Eddie shrugged. “Some.  Chris still wakes up pretty frequently but he’d stopped asking me all the time for Buck because he knows I wouldn’t call him—couldn’t call him.”

“Still?”

“That’s the reason it started.... but I’m the asshole who didn’t... I didn’t react well when we had the meeting with the lawyer and that cabrón used Shannon’s death as an example of how Buck was being discriminated against.  I was so stuck up in my own head that I....”

“You didn’t start talking again when you could have,” Deacon summed up.

He nodded. “Yeah. I used to talk to Buck about everything and then all of the sudden I couldn’t find any words to say to him that weren’t angry or something I’d regret the moment they were out of my mouth.”

Deacon made a noise that encouraged Eddie to continue. “We went from talking about everything to not talking at all.  I’d like to blame it just on us but.... I found out the reason Buck filed the lawsuit.”

“Why?”

“Bobby made a recommendation that even though the docs had cleared Buck and he’d passed the fitness tests... Bobby didn’t think it was safe for him to return to duty.”

“Does Bobby get to make that call? Overrule a doctor’s clearance?  Because he’s your captain?”

Eddie shrugged. “Buck was doing stuff as a fire marshal. He hated it but it was something and Bobby was happy to see him back to work.  We all were even if he was a terror with the clipboard.  You have to understand... Buck lives and breathes being a firefighter.  We’re his family and he doesn’t have much outside of the 118 in his life. I don’t... I get why he sued Bobby.  I wish he’d talked to me first though so I would have known... that I wouldn’t just be told I couldn’t talk to him.”

“Sounds like both of you should have talked to each other.”

Eddie snorted. That was putting things mildly. “I’m not mad or angry or whatever you want to call it with Buck.”

“You’re not?”

“I think... I’m mostly angry with myself. I’ve screwed up so many times... and at the end of the day it’s my fault.”

“Eddie... have you talked to Buck about any of this?”

“A little bit. It’s… he’s in Hawaii.  We text and call more than just to check in and he keeps telling me that I just need to ask he’ll be there… but it’s... it’s not the same.  I don’t know how to... to do it.  And to find out that the reason we stopped talking was Bobby?  I just... I don’t know how to go to work on my next shift.”

“Why?”

Eddie gestured helplessly. “How do I trust him Deac? How do I trust that he’s telling me what I need to know? That he’s not keeping things from me because they’re inconvenient or whatever?  I just don’t know.... trust...” he stuffed his hand in his mouth and bit down on his knuckle. 

Deacon tugged at his arm, pulling his hand away. “Don’t. I...I didn’t mention that Hondo got squad leader over me did I?”

Surprised, Eddie looked at Deacon who was staring at his own hands now. “What? I mean you’re...”

“Best friends and partners?  Yeah.” Deacon sighed heavily, letting his eyes close for a moment before opening them to look out over the sand to the water. “We’ve been work partners for almost a decade but he’s been my section leader now for over a year.  He was promoted over me.”

“That... must have caused problems.”

“It should have caused more.  My wife hates it but... I.... Hondo still listens to me. Relies on me. Do I wish I’d been given the promotion to team lead that was rightfully mine? Some days yes, some days no.”

“How do you... how did you get over being overlooked?”  It wasn’t the same but Deacon and Hondo were a solid unit much like he used to be with Buck. 

Deacon took a deep breath and let it out. “I think I realized what was more important to me was my relationship with my partner than the promotion and my career. Which is probably why my wife hates it.”

“Why would she?”

“Annie... she was diagnosed with brain cancer six months ago—and she’s mostly okay now,” he added before Eddie could ask.  “We had a rough patch right before then—she felt I should have been promoted instead of Hondo and... I think she hated it that I wasn’t more upset. I spend all this time at work—a lot of hours. Most of them are with Hondo and...she gets jealous that I don’t tell him no. That when my phone rings it’s him and I have to go and leave her with the kids—it’s not an option to let someone else have his back.”  Deacon’s eyes fell to his hands that he’d laced together over his knees. “She said he gets more of me than she does anymore and she’s right. I’m more Deacon than her David.”

“But Hondo... you trust him right?  Has he done anything ever like Bobby has?”  Eddie asked, still processing the whole comment about Deacon’s wife being jealous of his work partner. 

“That’s just it... I do trust him.  We’ve had our moments where we haven’t told each other everything and sometimes it has led to less than optimal outcomes... but I can still trust him at work.  I know it’s not the same thing as it is with your captain but maybe it is that way with Buck and you.”

“Maybe,” Eddie agreed. “You said you’ve had arguments before? With Hondo?”

“All the time but we’ve worked together so long we’re mostly in sync these days.”

Staring out at the waves, Eddie nodded slowly. “I guess… I think I need to talk to Bobby.”

“What are you going to say to him?” Deacon asked, trying to be supportive. “I think you should go in with a plan.”

Closing his eyes, he rubbed his face with his hands. He was tired and hadn’t slept just come here to think.. “I think… I need to ask him why he didn’t let Buck come back when he passed his recerts and the docs cleared him. For anyone else that would have been enough.  I need to hear him tell me why.”

“He might not tell you,” Deacon warned. “As boss he has to keep some things confidential.”

“Yeah but this is about trust and I think…. I think I need to hear him either give me a reason or a cop out. I need…” Eddie paused, reframing his answer. “I need to know if I was an asshole to my best friend because he didn’t tell us everything.”

Deacon frowned. “Are you trying to shift blame to Bobby?”

“No.” Eddie was firm, squashing that thought immediately. “I think I just need… I need to know if he’s ever going to let Buck come back—really back not this half-present thing,” he clarified with a weak wave of his hand at the water. 

“What do you mean?”  Deacon’s expression was thoughtful, brows lowered as he tried to suss out what Eddie was trying to say. 

“Because Buck is my partner.”  It really was that simple and complicated.  Eddie hadn’t wanted to look too closely at his relationship with Buck before he’d left him but now it preoccupied his thoughts like nothing else.  The word partner was both accurate as well as insufficient to describe everything that Buck was to him.  Partner. Best friend. Better half. All of them could be used to describe Buck…but the one he hadn’t dared said aloud was the label that he was becoming more and more sure of.   

Soulmate. 

Eddie was pretty sure Buck was his soulmate and possibly the love of his life—even if that meant just loving Buck as a friend for the rest of his life if Buck didn’t feel that way. He didn’t know if Buck felt that way too…

Softening his words, Eddie kept trying to explain as he stumbled over his words. “He’s got my back and I’ve got his—or at least we did or do—at least I think we do. I’ve been… talking and texting Buck so I don’t think that… I want to know if we can work back to being that for each other at the 118.  If it’s not an option then I need to know it’s not.”

“Would you follow Buck somewhere else?”

The question was seemingly innocuous but it made Eddie pause and think.  Buck had said that too—what if Buck could’t come back?

Would he follow Buck to Hawaii?  

The thought of uprooting Chris and starting over yet again was daunting—Abuela and Pepa were both here in LA. Both Christopher and he had made close relationships—Carla, Chris’ school friends, the rest of the 118…so many people. 

Would he follow Buck?

He didn’t know the answer. If it had been just him?  It would be easy to answer—yes.  He’d follow Buck anywhere… but with Chris?

“I don’t know. Maybe.  I think that’s a conversation Buck and I would need to have but I think the first thing I need to know is if staying at the 118 is even on the table.  If Bobby won’t budge then well I guess that means it’s not an option.”

“What if Bobby can’t tell you what you want to hear?”

“I just want the truth—he could have… I feel like he hid the truth about why Buck was suing the department.  I’m mad at myself for not ignoring the no talking to Buck directive from the union—I should have ignored it and I don’t think… maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Eddie was pretty sure that if he had talked to Buck that he wouldn’t have… no he still was having some trouble even before the lawsuit. It’d just been the cherry on top.  He couldn’t avoid taking responsibility for his mess up—even if Frank had told him that he shouldn’t make everything his fault… this one was his. 

He should have talked to Buck. Should have reached out and used his words that were so damnably hard to find the right ones to say what he needed to say. If talking to Buck was his primary coping mechanism—which according to Frank it was—then he should have sucked up his pride and done it as it was a lot healthier than getting into illegal street fights. 

“I hope you find the answers you need then,” Deacon said with a light touch to his shoulder.  “When are you going to talk to him?”

Eddie sighed and checked his phone.  He had a bunch of missed calls and more than a few text messages from everyone. “Hopefully he’s free.  I don’t want to wait.”

“Then good luck. Do you need me to watch Chris?”

“No.  I have a session with Frank before after school pickup.”

“Okay—but if you need me to watch him just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Eddie managed, clasping his hand around Deacon’s arm. “Thanks for being a friend.”

Deacon’s warm smile was encouraging. “If you ever need me to listen you only have to ask.”

“I’m working on that,” Eddie promised.

“Go talk to Bobby and get the answers you need.  If you need me after just call.”

“Thanks.”

 

Please understand one thing

If and when you drink from this vast ocean

You can’t control it

Na, na you can’t control it

Na, na you can’t control it

Na, na you can’t control it

 

Song lyrics; You Can’t Control it by Jack Johnson and Zach Gill

Notes:

For purposes of fiction, we’re going to go with this is how child custody laws work in Texas. Also despite my research about climbing harnesses, some details are dramatized for story purposes as are how rescues are performed.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 9: SNAFU: Situation Normal, All Fucked Up

Notes:

Warning for cliffhanger. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

If I had eyes in the back of my head

I would have told you that 

You looked good

As I walked away

 

And if you could’ve tried to trust the hand that failed

You would’ve never been hungry

But you never really be

 

Steve

Joe’s information wasn’t helpful, mainly because it didn’t say anything he didn’t already know. The one thing in Joe’s favor was that there was an obliquely worded agency communiqué that explained that Wo Fat was officially known as an agent of the People’s Republic of China and had a few diplomatic credentials that made it unfortunate that he was currently imprisoned in Colorado. Joe had been unofficially charged with escorting him out of the country with ‘other assets’ to ensure Wo Fat left American soil and did not return.

Which—too bad Wo Fat had no interest in returning to Asia. Joe had failed that part of his job miserably. 

It struck Steve as sloppy work that Joe would assume Wo Fat wouldn’t come back, or maybe it had been just excessively optimistic thinking. Joe had a soft spot for his mother—Steve knew this. He wasn’t sure if there had been something more between them at some point, and he didn’t want to know.

Mostly, Steve felt disappointed and heartbroken, which fed his rage. He was attempting to tone it down a bit. Buck had picked up on his mood immediately and gone on high alert. 

Buck had been trained well, and it made him proud to see it. He’d helped Steve check all the locks and doors without being told, automatically doing a house sweep when they got home. If it had been anyone other than maybe, Danny, Steve would have rechecked after them.  

Maybe Danny had been right about having him paired with Buck. It was like Steve’s slipped back into his active duty days having Buck here. The low thrum of constant danger was attenuated by having someone he could trust to respond similarly at his back that he trusted without question. He’d trained Buck and led him before through high-stakes situations in worse settings. 

He trusted Buck to have his back—it was as simple as that. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about Danny and Chin as well as Kono—where ever she was. Wo Fat wouldn’t have killed her as she was too big of a bargaining chip and would serve as bait to make Steve more likely to walk into whatever trap was being built. Assuming Kono wasn’t too severely injured, there were also other factors to consider. 

Kono was 5-0, meaning she was crafty and resourceful. She was in a lot of ways as tough or tougher than Steve or even Chin. The longer she was kept wherever she was, the more the odds stacked that someone would make a mistake she could take advantage of. 

She’d either escape, or they’d be led to her. One way or the other, Steve planned on not showing any mercy this time.  

Wo Fat had messed with his ‘Ohana for the last time. 

Buck made noise about calling LA for bedtime with Diaz and the kid, so Steve found himself prowling the shoreline to give him some privacy after he’d made eye contact with Diaz. Diaz—Eddie—had impressed him. He could see that the former army medic had picked up immediately that something was up without Steve having to say a word and covered up his reaction before Christopher could notice. 

It seemed Buck had maybe picked a good one after all. Steve wondered how long Buck would stay—it was obvious that his heart was back in LA with Eddie Diaz and his son. Nevertheless, Steve wasn’t going to shove Buck out the door before he was ready. For one, there was still Wo Fat to consider, and secondly, Steve was pretty sure that Buck still had some emotional stuff to work through.  

Steve had noticed that Buck had looked a bit better after talking to Mamo for a split second before he’d noticed Steve’s agitation and gone on high alert. He did feel a bit guilty about that, but Steve knew it was necessary. Wo Fat had shown they were all a target, and Buck understood that. 

So while Buck was inside talking to his not-boyfriend, he was staring at the water and trying not to think of what Kono was likely going through and how Joe had contributed to letting Wo Fat free to wreak more destruction on Steve’s ‘ohana. 

Kono was tough. She was resilient. 

Steve needed her to be alive and intact mentally at the end of this. He didn’t know how to face Adam or her mother and father if she wasn’t. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could face Chin if… 

He shook his head to clear it, taking a seat on the sand above the waterline and removing his shoes to dig his feet into the damp sand. He focused on the wind that stirred the palm trees overhead and tugged at his loose t-shirt while the soothing rhythmic sound of the waves breaking thirty meters offshore soothed his fraying nerves.  

This was his home that was under attack. 

His ‘Ohana. 

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but something about this time was just worse than all the other times. Maybe it was because he’d thought this particular boogeyman would rot away in Colorado forever, or perhaps it was because it was his mom and Joe. 

Or maybe it was all of it. 

Buck purposefully drug his feet in the sand to make noise as he approached. The sun was low on the horizon, minutes from sunset. “How’s the kid and Diaz?” Steve asked as Buck took a seat next to him.

“They’re good. I told Eddie about needing to watch out. I think I scared him a bit.”

Steve nodded. “He’s worried for you.”

Buck didn’t disagree. “I’d rather he be worried for himself. This guy went after Kono’s husband.”

He couldn’t ignore that opening. “Is that what you see Diaz as?”

Buck sharply inhaled but didn’t answer the question directly. “You can call him Eddie.”

Steve finally looked at Buck. Buck wasn’t looking at him but was steadily squinting into the sun, which was now touching the horizon. There was a slight hunch to the shoulders, but otherwise, Buck wasn’t showing discomfort with the topic change. “So, is that what Eddie is to you?” Steve pressed. 

A slight shrug and Buck’s gaze dropped to his hands clasped on his knees. “He’s… my family, just like you and how Freddie was.”

“I think he’s a bit more than that.”

Buck’s eyes were sharp when they flicked to meet his, but he didn’t flinch away when he said, “I think maybe it’s exactly how you and Freddie were.”

Steve’s train of thought halted and reversed direction. “What?”

“You and Freddie were one long weekend in Vegas away from being accidentally-on-purpose married.”

“We were not.”

“Oh you so were.”

“Freddie had Kelly,” Steve weakly protested. So what if maybe he’d had a few less-than-innocent thoughts or sex dreams about his best friend over the years? 

“I think Kelly would have been fine with you and Freddie. I think she would have gleefully watched.”

“What?” Okay—he was now officially scandalized and needed to bleach his brain. Kelly was Freddie’s high school sweetheart, and she could easily keep pace with them at a party on the weekend. She’d never tolerated another woman so much as smiling at Freddie in Steve’s experience. She had—however—been very tolerant of their boy’s weekends and shenanigans…

“Kelly thought you and her Freddie,” Buck made air quotes with his hands, “were quote-unquote ‘hot and fit’ and wondered if you’d be up for a three-some.”

“When did she say that?”

“A while ago. We might have been pretty drunk, but she said you had a nice ass, and it would look good framed by Freddie’s hands. I’m not repeating what else she said.”

“Oh my god,” Steve’s brain was melting. Kelly had said that?

“Hondo and I had money on whether you’d do the whole honorable ‘marry the widow of my best friend’ thing after Freddie died.”

“Hondo thought I’d… date Kelly?” He wasn’t touching the guilty thing with a twenty-foot pole. He had felt—and still did feel—incredibly guilty for Freddie dying on that mission. It should have been him that had died. Then Kelly would still have a husband and Kelsey a father. He wasn’t a replacement for Freddie and never could be. 

“Oh, he said Cath threw a wrench in it, and that was why it didn’t happen when he finally paid up last year, but we both know that it was meeting Danny that finally put the nail in that coffin.”

“What?!?” This conversation was spinning out of control rapidly. 

“If Eddie’s my Freddie, then he’s also my Danno.”  

Buck couldn’t possibly be implying… no, he really was. He was implying that Steve had replaced Freddie with Danny, which was both so wrong and so terribly right in some ways that it chilled him despite the tropical air temperature. “Your Danny?”

Buck’s mouth twisted ironically. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over Eddie if we don’t work things out. He’s my best friend and I… I love him more than I think I’ve ever loved anyone else.”

Wow. Buck was admitting… “In love with him,” Steve corrected gently. 

Ducking his head until his chin rested on his sternum, Buck gave a slight nod. “Yeah. I am,” he admitted softly. “I know it’s maybe not the same for him—“

“Kid… Buck… Evan… the way Eddie looks at you… surely you know?”

“How he looks at me?” Buck’s eyes were so impossibly blue in the dying light of the sun reflected off the water. He was hanging on Steve’s words, expression desperate and hopeful. 

“He looks like one of Grace’s cartoon characters—with the hearts in his eyes thing. Everyone sees it. I could see it tonight on your screen!”

“He does?” Buck’s voice was full of wonder, facial muscles gone slack as he pondered the possibility that Eddie might like him too. 

“He does!” Steve insisted. “I only have met him briefly, but the guy obviously hasn’t been doing well with you two fighting.”

“I hate fighting with him,” Buck admitted. “It was all my fault.”

“No—it takes two to tango.”

“No, but if I hadn’t sued the department…it was my fault we couldn’t talk. Eddie was right to be mad at me. I didn’t have his back like I should.”  

Buck was calm as he stated the facts as he saw them, but Steve couldn’t help but disagree slightly. “And he had yours?” 

“Of course he did. He… you trusted Freddie always to have your back like you trust Danny now, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed cautiously. He didn’t really want to talk about the mess of emotions that made a tangled knot in his chest when it came to Danny. 

“Mamo and I were talking about this—how things went wrong. I stopped talking to Eddie; he couldn’t understand why I wasn’t talking. I mean,” Buck gestured helplessly at the now almost gone sun, “I.. when we stopped talking, that’s when things got out of hand for both of us.”

“You were hurting,” Steve argued. 

“Yeah—but I was hiding some of it from Eddie. He thought I was getting better, and it was only a matter of time before I’d be back to work.”

“Still—“

“No. Eddie’s had his own problems and was hiding them too because he thought he was protecting me from having his issues on top of mine.”

“So he wasn’t talking either?”

“Kinda. We… we promised each other to talk more about things. We’ve been doing that with all the phone calls and FaceTiming.”

“And it’s better?”

“It is. Do you talk to Danny about things?”

Steve stopped himself from answering immediately as it’d just validate Buck’s earlier supposition. 

“Come on—you do,” Buck coaxed. 

“I talk to Danny about a lot of things,” Steve hedged. Danny knew things that no one else knew—not even Freddie had known some of the things that Steve had confided in Danny about. He’d skirted a lot of classified information at times, and Danny had drawn his own—mostly correct—conclusions about things he wasn’t supposed to discuss. Luckily for Steve, Danny had no intentions of letting anyone else know he knew. 

“Like you used to talk to Freddie?” Buck arched one eyebrow, waiting for Steve to admit he was right. 

“I did talk to Freddie about a lot of things—and I do with Danny too.”

Buck was generous in winning his admission, and his smile was gentle. “See. Not too scary to admit.”

“But it is,” Steve argued. “Means that if Wo Fat hurts Danny it…” his voice trailed off. It felt like he had something stuck in his throat at the thought of Danny being hurt because of him. It would be much worse if it were Danny, but he couldn’t voice those thoughts. “Kono’s like my sister; I will bring her home.”

“But if it were Danny, it would destroy you?” Buck pressed. 

Steve let out a shaky breath. “If he touches Danny, Grace, or Charlie… “ he leaves it unsaid. Usually, Steve let Danny’s reminders about due process and that they were upholding the law stop him from shooting suspects despite what anyone else might believe. There’d been a lot of missions over the years where the only reason a target was brought in alive was because of intel. If they had nothing of importance to give, he’d have no problem eliminating targets. 

Buck knew this. He had been on those missions with him and taken orders from him that had ended up terminating a target’s life. That was why he’d decided to go the firefighter route instead of law enforcement—he’d wanted to help people in a different, more positive way.

Steve had never thought of it that way, and he wondered if that said something about him. Danny would argue that he was a black-and-white kind of guy, but he could appreciate the shades of gray when it came to moral arguments, but he’d had no room for them while deployed as a seal. In the Navy’s eyes, you were either a good guy or a bad guy—no room for interpretation. 

5-0 was different. Danny made it different—his reactions were the restraint on Steve to know what was acceptable and what was not. He knew exactly how far he could push things because of Danny. Losing Danny would… 

Steve knew he didn’t want to know what would happen then.

“Yeah, losing him would be like the world was ending,” Buck summed up with a hum, looking back out over the water. “Losing Eddie—even just for a bit was like that. I kept spiraling, and I couldn’t fix things. If I lost him permanently?”

“You don’t want to know what you’d do then,” Steve stated. 

“No.”

Steve snorted, digging in the sand with his hand and letting the grains sift through his fingers. “We’ll get Kono back and fix things. We have Danny and Eddie to keep us grounded.”

Buck’s smile was easier now. The corners of his lips quirked up, and his face was golden in the fading light. “Yeah. We do have them, don’t we?”

***

Both of them slept restlessly, and when Steve went to knock on Buck’s door for their early morning swim, it opened before he could rap his knuckle against the wood. Buck’s curls were all pushed up on one side, and there were the beginnings of bruises under the eyes. 

“Swim?” Steve asked instead of commenting on the lack of sleep.

“Swim,” Buck agreed, already reaching for his boardshorts. 

Later, when they both were toweling off, Steve noticed the large manilla envelope resting on the Adirondack chair that Danny preferred to sit on when he watched Steve swim. 

It was addressed simply in black sharpie: Brother.

 

The more of this or less of this or is there any difference

Or are we just holding onto the things that we don’t have anymore

 

Sometimes time doesn’t heal

No not at all

Just stand still

While we fall

In or out of love again I doubt I’m gonna win you back

When you got eyes like that 

It won’t let me in

Always looking out

 

Danny

 

Chin was calm despite everything going on. After they’d dropped off Grace and Charlie, he simply asked, “Your place or mine?” 

Danny debated giving up the common ground to Chin—Kono was his cousin. Chin’s place was nice, and his spare bedroom was comfortable, but it was further away than Danny’s place from Steve’s. Undoubtedly, Chin would be more comfortable in his own house, but so would Danny in his own bed, and he knew that his insomnia would likely be working overtime with his kids gone and knowing that it was Wo Fat coming after Steve again through them. 

Selfishly, he chose his place.  

Chin nodded. “Closer to Steve’s in case something happens.”

Danny didn’t correct his reasoning. He just pointed the Camaro towards home. Neither of them felt inclined to talk, the radio softly playing classic rock. 

Entering the empty house, Danny made sure Chin had everything he needed, then retreated to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes. He felt restless and unsettled despite the late hour, so he decided to go for a run on the old treadmill he kept on the back covered porch—sorry, the lanai—for nights when he couldn’t leave his kids home alone but needed to physically wear himself out so he might get a few hours of sleep.  

Steve liked to swim and did it daily for cardio, occasionally talking Danny into sparring in the gym when they needed to work something out. Danny ran when he needed to quiet his thoughts until his bad knee was two seconds from giving way, and his lungs burned. 

He never quite managed to outrun his thoughts, though. 

Thump, thump, thump.

The rhythm of his running shoes on the deck of the treadmill echoed the drumbeat of his thoughts.  

Wo Fat.

Kono.

Sang Min.

The string of intimidated shopkeepers paying protection money—some seemingly more involved than others. 

The possible Yakuza angle and the California connection worried him for Buck’s LA connections and family. 

Doris McGarrett and Joe White chose Wo Fat over Steve.

Something was connecting all these disparate parts that he couldn’t quite grasp other than the obvious.  

Thump, thump, thump. 

He ran for over an hour, stopping only when his knee finally gave out, and he barely avoided nosediving into the deck, hands slipping on the safety bar as he smacked the off button. Danny removed his drenched shirt and stared out at the darkness of his small backyard. The motion-sensitive floodlights had triggered three times while he was running—the first two times had been birds, but the third time he hadn’t noticed anything moving. 

That had been less than five minutes ago. 

Nothing moved, and it was too quiet. Even the insects were keeping it down. 

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing straight up—something or someone was watching him, and he’d left his gun on his nightstand when he’d changed into workout clothes. 

Pretending to be absorbed in his phone, he texted Chin, moving just enough to set off the motion detector.

Light flooded his backyard. A small table and four chairs were in the one corner by the grill, and a large envelope had been placed there. Blinking as his eyes adjusted, Danny saw nothing else out of place.  

Gradually, the noise of insects and night birds returned, but he only waved his hand to keep the light on. Chin was silently watching him from the open screen door, hidden in the shadows, whereas Danny was lit up by the light right over his head, making his hair glow with a golden halo. 

Somehow, whoever had left the envelope had come and gone with hardly any notice. They were probably gone now. 

“Cover me,” Danny ordered, just loud enough for Chin to hear him and not carry across the small yard. There was a barely audible click of Chin flicking the safety off on his gun. 

Picking his way across the yard, Danny keeps his eyes roving and checking each board in the fence. The far corner has been overtaken by vegetation that Danny had kept meaning to spend a day cutting back but hasn’t gotten around to between cases and his kids, keeping him busy. He knows there is a small gap, just large enough for someone as skinny as Chin to squeeze through. 

Not a leaf moved as his fingers touched the envelope. 

Rather than turn his back to the gap, he carefully took steps backward until he was back on the lanai. Chin’s eyes were dark coals as they watched from behind the screen, still watching for a hint of movement.  

Danny entered his house and locked the door after himself. Chin was already reaching for the blinds and closing them while turning off most of the lights so someone outside couldn’t readily see in them or even their shadows moving.

“I’m setting up cameras tomorrow,” Chin stated. “You should have had them already.”

Danny shrugged. He hadn’t liked the idea of living in a fortress with his kids, but suddenly it seemed more of an oversight on his part not having them. Examining the manilla business envelope, it felt stiff in his hands, suggesting there were more than a few sheets of paper in it. Someone with impeccable handwriting had written Attention Detective Williams5-0 Task Force with a black sharpie in the center. There was no return address or any other mark on the outside. 

Someone knew where he lived. 

Inwardly chilled, Danny grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully sliced the envelope open, letting the contents spread themselves over the table where he ate breakfast every morning that he didn’t go to Steve’s. The envelope was full of 8 x10 glossy photos of Kono.  

Kono stared out of the color photos, her eyes defiant and full of fire. Whoever had taken the photos, she hadn’t liked them much. She was wearing only her underwear and bra; limbs stretched taut behind her to limit movement. Another figure behind her held a newspaper next to her bruised and swollen face, this morning’s Honolulu Star-Advertiser, according to the date. Danny recognized the lead story and the picture from browsing it with breakfast hours ago. 

He was staring at proof of life photos.  

Kono had been alive and conscious this morning at least—of course, he couldn’t know what had happened since then. 

Chin’s sharp intake of breath meant he’d seen the photos. “Kono,” he said softly, fingers touching the nearest image and tracing her face. 

“Spread them out,” Danny said even as he reached to help. Between them, they covered the entire table with the series. All were of Kono, but her expression changed slightly in each one. From how she was squinting, Danny guessed the room was dark, but a flash was being used. The hand that held the newspaper matched the other one that was fisted in her hair and holding her so she couldn’t look away from the lens. The hands were discolored, and the nails were close-shorn and tattered, the shape of the hands broad and masculine. No rings or hand tattoos… but there was scarring on the left one, like the flesh had been partially melted by heat or acid…

Danny was reasonably sure that those were Wo Fat’s hands. “We need the intake photos from Wo Fat’s arrest.”

Chin grabbed Danny’s tablet that had been sitting on the cookbook stand he used when he was tired and reading reports and didn’t want to hold it. He’d left it there earlier after confirming Grace’s and Charlie’s flights this morning while drinking his coffee. Chin knew what Danny wanted and was flicking through the intake photos looking for shots of Wo Fat’s hands for identifying marks. 

Danny remembered how deformed the skin had been, freshly burned and not entirely healed, but the pattern should be recognizably similar. He wasn’t sure he wanted confirmation of what he suspected but knew that Steve would demand it, as would Chin. 

Confirmation that it was Wo Fat will drive Steve up the wall.

Chin found what they were looking for, holding up the clearest shot of Kono’s captor’s hands. The left ring and pinky fingers were deformed, and the skin puckered, climbing over the middle knuckle and then halfway down the middle finger with a patch of skin like a ring around it preserved. 

The hand matched.

They had confirmation. 

“It’s him,” Chin said, voice sharper than one of Steve’s freshly honed hunting knives, a quiver of rage going through his body that Danny felt because they were standing so close. 

“Kono’s alive,” Danny restated, emphasizing it so it sounded like truth even if there was a sliver of doubt in his mind. Wo Fat was the most dangerous person he’d ever met, and the malice he held for Steve and everyone Steve loved was well known. “She’s alive and smarter than you or me.”

Chin didn’t look at all reassured by his words. The smoldering rage in his eyes and the tight coil to his body showed he was ready to spring into motion if only he were given a target. Kono’s face had shown she’d been injured—she hadn’t gone quietly. “He has her, Danny. It’s him. It’s Wo Fat.”

“And we’re going to get him, Chin. Assuming Kono doesn’t first,” Danny tried to reassure them both.  

“Do we tell Steve?” Chin asked seriously, rolling his shoulders and setting the photo and tablet down. 

“It’s not going to change anything tonight. We need sleep.”

Chin shrugged. “In shifts. I’m setting up the security system tomorrow.”

Danny privately thought it was more likely Steve would make them all stay at his house, but he didn’t say anything. Chin knew just as well as he did that the photos would make Steve ratchet up the threat level even more. 

It wasn’t like Danny had room to disagree with him. Whoever delivered the photos had deliberately snuck into his backyard while he was running, and he hadn’t noticed anything other than the floodlight being tripped. “Steve would be proud of us—setting watches. I’ll take the first watch.”

Danny wouldn’t sleep tonight—not with the invasion of his home turf. Chin might as well get some if he could.

If I had eyes in the back of my head

I would have told you that 

You looked good

As I walked away

 

And if you could’ve tried to trust the hand that failed

You would’ve never been hungry

But you never really be

 

Buck

Finding mysterious envelopes full of photos is not unusual—or at least that’s what Buck surmises from everyone else’s disappointed and sad reaction. Steve let him see the contents before they got to the office, and it made his stomach turn sour to see Kono’s bruised face next to yesterday’s newspaper.

They reminded him of some of the stuff they’d see in the sandbox. A way of proving when a photo was taken assuming they hadn’t been altered digitally—you could do a lot of that these days. Buck assumed that photo manipulation was not one of Wo Fat’s skills, but it probably didn’t matter as Kono hadn’t been missing all that long.  

Steve took it hard. The photos made him double down on paranoia, and he could hardly contain his rage. Buck had barely had time to rinse off the ocean salt and throw on clothes before they’d been on their way to the office. 

Buck now had two guns hidden on his person as well as three knives. Steve had ordered him to and then watched him strap on the holsters, adjusting them until he was satisfied they were mainly hidden underneath Buck’s clothes. Buck wasn’t wearing a vest because he’d objected to it as it chafed in the tropical heat, and it was overkill.

In Buck’s opinion, walking around Honolulu armed to the teeth sent the wrong message. Wo Fat wanted them paranoid and angry—and he’d succeeded. 

The problem was, making Steve paranoid and angry usually meant he got results in Buck’s experience, even if he had to turn all of Oahu inside out to do so.  

“The pictures were printed professionally,” Chin observed, using gloves to turn each one over, judging the paper slowly. “Which means either someone did the job for him or they broke into a shop.”

“Witnesses,” Steve agreed, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and clutching his biceps with both fists. 

“Possible witnesses,” Danny corrected. “We verified the hand scarring pattern matches Wo Fat’s, which confirms our suspicions that he’s involved.”

Steve growled low in his throat, the sound unnatural when coming from a human, and it set the hair on Buck’s neck to prickle warningly. The last time he’d heard Steve make that sound had been on the mission that Freddie had died on. They’d all been dirty and tired, dodging North Korean patrols, and the sudden cognitive dissonance of wanting the security of his body armor and the weight of a pack on his pack and a rifle in his arms was startling. 

He hadn’t thought of being geared up that way in years.  

Maybe he’d have to rethink wearing that vest if nothing else, the compression of it against his body would be soothing, like a hug. 

Chin had been checking something on the HPD database. “No witnesses. Last night, a robbery occurred at a copy shop that does photo printing on Kalakaua. The man who worked closing was found dead this morning by the owner, a single gunshot to the back of the head and the register empty.”

“Make sure the paper matches their stock,” Steve ordered, all aware that they’d probably reached a dead end. “Any security camera footage?”

“Wiped and equipment destroyed, the hard drive was found burnt behind the building,” Chin confirmed, bringing up the preliminary report filed by the officers that had responded.

Steve scowled, his knuckles gone white against the tan of his skin as he squeezed his biceps harder. “What else do we have?”

“The envelopes are easy to find everywhere—probably from that same copy store if it has mailing supplies like most of them do,” Danny observed. “Ink is consistent with a sharpie, and those are everywhere.”

“The handwriting is Wo Fat’s,” Steve adds through clenched teeth. Buck isn’t surprised that Steve recognizes his personal nemesis’ handwriting. 

“So we have nothing,” Chin summarized. 

“No,” Buck disagreed, making everyone look at him. Steve’s gaze was like being pinned by a bird of prey, Chin and Danny more curious but no less intense. 

“What do you mean?” Danny asked. 

“We know Kono’s alive,” Buck pointed out. “Injured but alive. He’s making a point—Wo Fat.”

“He wants something,” Danny said after a moment, expression thoughtful. “What does that bastard want?”

“What does he ever want?” Steve snarled and began to pace like a caged tiger.  

Nobody said anything. From what Buck understood, Wo Fat was primarily interested in money, power, and making Steve’s life miserable. There was something about Steve’s mom, too, but he’d never had that clarified, and he didn’t think asking now was a good idea.

“Have you heard from Doris?” Chin asked calmly, breaking the silence. So there was something about Steve’s mom that was relevant. Buck made a mental note to ask Danny about it later, given how the blonde rubbed his face at the mention of Steve’s mom. If anyone were going to know the details, it’d be Danny. 

“No.” Steve’s glare could have frozen Chin solid, and he continued to pace in agitation. “Joe indicated that the last time he saw Wo Fat, he was boarding a flight to China with my mom.”

“When?” Chin pressed.

“Almost three months ago.”

“Not much time to set up the protection racket,” Buck muttered.

Steve paused in his pacing. “No, it’s not.”

“We know he’s working with Sang Min. What do we know about his current situation?”

“And possibly the Yakuza,” Buck added as Chin manipulated the computer screen to pull up more information. 

“Adam got out when he married Kono,” Chin pulled up the current data on the Yakuza factions from the HPD Organized Crime Unit (OCU). 

“Do we know for sure?” Buck asked.

Chin’s stony expression darkened, and the corner of his mouth twitched briefly in displeasure. “He made promises to Kono. When I talked to him yesterday, he was worried. I thought he’d gone back on his word. He assured me he hasn’t.”

Steve and Chin exchanged a shared look. There was history there that Buck wasn’t aware of, but he’d trust them to know. 

“What else did he tell you?” Steve asked finally. 

“He was approached a while back—more than six months ago.  Kono knew about it, and so did I.  Adam said no.”

“The black eye,” Danny said. “the one he said he got from hiking and missing a branch.”

“It was more than just the black eye,” Chin grumbled under his breath before speaking louder. “Kono and I talked about it. It’s why they went to Maui for that surfing tournament, and Kono took the Florence case.”

“The kidnapping case?” Danny bit his lower lip, eyes narrowed, and focused on Steve instead of Chin. 

“Yeah. Was a good excuse to get them off Oahu for a few weeks and to stay out of trouble.”  

“Funny how nobody told me.”

“You were busy with Grace’s cheerleading thing,” Steve argued a touch petulantly. At least he’d relaxed his grip on his biceps—which was probably why Danny was arguing as he dropped it with his next breath. 

“I wasn’t that busy,” Danny huffed. “So whatever is going on—it’s been in play for months longer than Wo Fat’s been on the lam.”

Steve tried not to smile as he mouthed ‘on the lam’ and shook his head before taking a deep breath. “You got the logs of his visitors at Club Fed?”

“Look who’s using fancy words,” Danny grumbled as he brought up the information he’d gotten from the warden. “No visitors logged—other than the two we know about that took him away.”

“So there’s a leak. Should tell the warden.”

Danny shrugged, but his frown deepened. “Unless you have an oubliette to stick him in, there will be ways of getting communications out. Just none that are useful leads for us.”

“We should still ask,” Steve said mildly, chewing his lip.

Danny waved a hand at Steve, but Buck could see him emailing the warden requesting more information like Steve wanted. 

“So… what do we do next?” Buck asked. 

The other three exchanged looks.

“You and I will check out the copy shop—make sure nothing was missed while Danny talks to the warden and Chin keeps digging.”

Buck trails after Steve, who’s already in motion now that he’s decided.  

“Good luck,” Danny calls after them, but Buck is too busy jogging to catch Steve to respond while juggling his tac vest.

***

Steve parked his truck along with several patrol cars in the far lane. A couple of uniforms directed traffic around the shop and managed a small crowd of curious onlookers. Just as they arrived, the medical examiner rolled a gurney with a body in a bag out to a waiting van. 

“Max!” Steve called, halting the Asian man. 

“Commander McGarrett and… “ Max, the ME’s nose scrunched up behind his glasses as he looked Buck up and down, then held out a gloved hand,” I don’t believe I’ve met your acquaintance.”

Buck stared at the gloved hand and fumbled for his own gloves he’d stashed in his pocket after Danny had given him a hard time about crime scene contamination the other day. Fumbling with the gloves, he grasped the other man’s hand. “I’m Buck.”

“Oh yes. Kamekona mentioned you. McGarrett’s protégé.”

“Protégé?” 

“Were you not in the Seals?”

“I was,” Buck admitted as the Asian man dropped his hand. “I suppose that makes me a protégé of sorts.”

“Kamekona said he was going to steal you,” Max said while leaning in as if sharing a secret. “He said you are not as hopeless of a cook and had a refined palate.”

“Hey!” Steve protested. “There’s nothing wrong with my palate!”

“He does specialize in caveman cooking,” Buck joked. Steve was infamous among their circle for being best at grilling things—aka applying fire to meat. Anything more than that or adding hot water to an MRE, you wanted Freddie to be cooking on their old team or hope your taste buds were on vacation. 

“See if I feed you again,” Steve grumbled before changing topics. “What have you got, Max?”

Max blinked and reached to unzip the body bag. “To business then. Late twenties to early thirties Asian male—tattoos are consistent with Japanese ancestry or origin. No ID. Took a single shot to the back of the head execution style with instantaneous death.”

“I thought it was an employee?” Buck asked. “Why do you need an ID?”

“No wallet—the owner did give a name. Jacob Kanazawa.”

Steve yanked back the bag to get a better look. Over his shoulder, Buck could see that the victim was indeed Jacob Kanazawa, his skin yellow and pale, swelling over the right side of his face. He was still wearing his puka shell necklace with the fishhook, but the hemp braid was now brown with dried blood. “I thought he was still locked up?”

“You know him?” Max asked.

“HPD seems to have a problem keeping ahold of suspects,” Steve growled as he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Max, I need you to prioritize him. Top of your list or dissecting table or whatever.”

Steve then stalked into the shop, talking to Chin without waiting for Max to respond. 

“Sorry.” Buck felt compelled to apologize to Max for Steve’s rudeness. 

“I am used to it,” Max shrugged. “But thank you for apologizing. You know this man?”

“He was involved in robbing the food trucks. I caught him.”

“Ah. Kamekona mentioned that. Well, he is no longer missing. Commander McGarrett will solve the case.”

“Steve is the best.”

“Kid!” Buck could hear Steve calling for him.  

“I better go,” he excused himself, and Max gave a slight nod and wave as he returned his attention to the body.  

Inside, the shop was freezing. Someone had turned up the air conditioning, and the smell of bleach was strong. A cash register had been knocked off the counter and lay in pieces on the floor—the cash drawer notably empty even of coins. Steve stood off to the side behind the counter. “Buck—we’ve got the same paper already loaded in the photo printer. Watch the spatter.”

Buck toed around the rather alarmingly large pool of dried blood. “So the photos came from here?”

“You know I don’t believe in coincidences—especially given who the victim is.”

“True.” Steve handed him a blank piece of photo paper. It had the same weight and texture as the photos of Kono. “Seems the same to me.”

“Take a sample for the crime lab,” Steve said, fiddling with the printing machine and trying to open the cassette. “I think there’s a photo stuck in here.”

With a little bit of prying at every plastic seam and some swearing under their breath, they managed to take the machine apart. Buck’s experience with various random machinery and how to rapidly deconstruct them as a firefighter came in handy. One photo had gotten stuck between the rollers, and only the bottom edge hadn’t been filled in. Kono’s defiant glare stared up at them, but there was something in the background on this photo that hadn’t been in the others—a third person not entirely in focus but recognizable if you knew him because Kono had tried to headbutt her captor.

A certain pain-in-the-ass with terrible fashion sense was reflected in the window, a camera in hand. 

The photographer was Sang Min. 

“No such thing as coincidences,” Steve said as he secreted the photo in his vest. “C’mon. We got what we came for.”

“Which was?”

“Proof we’re on the right track.”

***

Neither Danny nor Chin was surprised by seeing Sang Min in the photo. Danny only commented, “I’m sure if he gets too close to Kono, she will bite him.”

“She bites people?” Buck asked, too surprised to stop from asking if Danny was serious or not.

“For him? I think Kono would make an exception if that were the only way she could make her feelings known. They have history.”

Dubious, Buck looked at Sang Min’s file. He and Danny were alone in the office while Chin and Steve ran to HPD about Kanazawa. “What kind of history?”

“Her first UC gig was being bait for him. My first case with Steve too.”

“His dad? Hesse?”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, eyes gone distant. “Sang Min’s always been an asshole, but he’s got his leverage points and a weird sense of honor. It’s odd that he’s working with Wo Fat.”

“Why?”

“Because when we threatened his wife and son—he did what we asked and trusted us to follow through. He’s never doubted us. I always felt that after the whole Hesse thing, he didn’t want to be involved in things like he was. Wanted out because of his kid. ”

“But he kept doing things? illegal things?”

Danny shrugged. “What do any of us do but what we know?”

Buck considered this. He’d walked away from being a seal because it had started to tear at his soul, and he knew there had to be something else for him. He’d then floated around for another year before discovering firefighting, where he could help people in ways that didn’t involve guns or being a glorified bodyguard. While working with 5-0 could be considered a regression, he was sure it was temporary. 

“What would you do if you couldn’t be a cop anymore?” He asked Danny. 

Danny took his question seriously. “I don’t know. Maybe I’d have a restaurant—Steve and I have talked about that. Or maybe I’d have gone into firefighting like my Dad and Uncles.”

Buck perked up. “You almost were a firefighter?” 

Danny laughed. “For maybe about fifteen minutes in high school, I considered it when Michael Reeves talked at career day—but I was too invested in being a detective. I already knew I wanted to be a cop by then.”

“So, who was Michael Reeves?”

“Um…” a blush was creeping up Danny’s neck and ears as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Michael Reeves was my bisexual awakening. He’d just gotten out of the fire academy, so he was sent over to schmooze his way through a bunch of high schoolers and convince them that firefighting was the career for them. Pretty sure it wasn’t just me who was lusting after him.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he challenged us all to pass the basic fitness test.” Danny coughed to clear his throat. “He ran around the football field daily without a shirt on for weeks.”

“And I’m sure you were right there running with him—weren’t you?” Buck teased. 

“I was,” Danny puffed up a bit. “Only one who could keep up with his running pace.. but I may have kept a few paces behind on purpose.”

“On purpose?” Buck’s eyebrows were inching upwards.  

“Yeah. Fantastic ass,” Danny admitted, now fully flushed. “And shoulders and back? Is that what you wanted to know?”

“Better than Steve’s?” Buck could not help but ask. 

Danny opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I plead the fifth.”

Buck let him off the hook and kept scrolling through the mountain of data HPD had sent over. Five minutes later, something occurred to him. “Wait—doesn’t pleading the fifth mean you don’t want to self-incriminate? Meaning you think Steve’s ass is better?”

“For the love of—please never mention this conversation ever again,” Danny hissed as footsteps announced the return of Chin and Steve. 

He was briefly distracted by lunch—Steve had stopped by Kamekona’s on the way back to check if the big Hawaiian had more information. Buck happily tucked into the garlic shrimp plate, temporarily forgetting Danny’s confession. 

“Kamekona sends his regards,” Steve said as he distributed the rest of the food. 

Before Buck could say thank you, his phone began to ring. Fishing it out of his pant pocket, he was surprised to see Christopher’s school was calling him. 

Lot of people spend their time just floating

We were victims together but lonely

You got hungry eyes that just can’t look forward

Can’t give them enough but we just can’t start over

Building with bent nails we’re 

Falling but holding, I don’t wanna take up anymore of your time

time time time

***

Eddie

Athena answered the door when he knocked. She was still in her uniform, a little before lunchtime. “Eddie—I was just stopping by for an early lunch, but Bobby’s expecting you,” she said as she opened the door. 

Eddie nodded, feeling like he’d missed a step by having Athena there. She was sneaking little looks at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked into her kitchen, where Bobby was finishing up making a few sandwiches—one of which appeared to be for Eddie as it had all his usual ingredients heaped upon it. 

Athena grabbed hers. “I’ll just eat in here. Why don’t you two go sit out on the patio?”

The patio would give them a bit of privacy, but Athena could still keep an eye on things to make sure they didn’t get too out of hand. Which Eddie was sure Bobby was also aware of. 

Eddie wasn’t sure if that meant Athena was worried about them getting too heated or if she just wanted an idea of how things went. Either way, he wasn’t sure what that said about her opinion of him. 

Grabbing a bottle of water, Eddie took his sandwich and followed Bobby to the covered patio, where there was a table and a few chairs. Bobby had also brought out a container of dip and veggies to accompany the sandwiches, which he placed within reach of them both.  

Eddie snatched a carrot and chewed on it, trying to think of how to start talking. 

Bobby, maybe realizing that Eddie was stuck, helped him out. “You wanted to talk? Maybe about earlier?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Eddie cleared his throat, the carrot seeming to stick in it and making his voice raspy.  

“You seemed pretty angry.”

“I am angry,” Eddie agreed but clarified, “but mostly about the differences in how you treat Buck and me.”

Bobby’s expression flickered momentarily, the faint lines around his mouth tightening and shoulders tensing. “What do you mean?”

“You let me come back—no advanced testing. No special clearance. No handling with kid gloves.”

“You and Buck are very different men,” Bobby interjected, slightly defensive but still listening. 

“We are, but you treat Buck very differently than me, Chim, or even Hen.”

“I can’t talk about certain things—you know that,” Bobby tried again.

“I know you can’t,” Eddie’s voice had a bit of an edge and he’d crossed his arms over his chest.  Realizing he’d done this, he stopped and took a deep breath while forcibly relaxing his arms, and reaching for another carrot. “You’re missing my point.”

“Which is?”

“Are you going to let Buck come back? He’s been ready, Bobby.”

“You don’t make that determination,” Bobby insisted. “There are doctors and then testing—“

“Buck cleared all those—I know because he showed me his paperwork, and I took him out to celebrate. I’m talking about how you said he wasn’t ready, and then after the lawsuit—which you failed to mention why exactly he was suing the department AND you—when they said he could come back, you’ve never treated him the same as you were treating me yesterday and this morning.”

“You know your limits,” Bobby argued, not denying that he’d blocked Buck’s return to work. “You have impulse control, Eddie.”

“Do I?” Eddie questioned, pointing at himself with the uneaten carrot, letting his skepticism show. “Buck’s not the one who got busted for an illegal fight club.”

Bobby frowned and shrugged, perhaps realizing that Eddie had a point and was a poor example, so he corrected himself by adding a qualifier. “At work, you know your limits.”

“You didn’t even question me after that fall I took until Chimney said I didn’t sleep this morning, and it felt like you were using it in front of everyone to remind me that I screwed up and put me in my place. If how I felt this morning is how Buck has been feeling… I don’t know why he wanted to come back to us.”

Bobby rubbed his forehead, looking like he was fighting a headache. There were smudges underneath his eyes that suggested he, too, wasn’t sleeping well. “Buck just needed more time—“

“Why? He was cleared. Cleared by professionals who know if we can do our jobs.”

“But they don’t know him! They’re not his captain!” Bobby’s voice rose, and his hand fell from his face and hit the edge of the table, making the bowl of veggies and dip jump and their untouched sandwiches with a bang. Bobby looked wrung out, eyes red. “I can’t lose another…”

“Bobby,” Eddie said gently, aware that his captain was on the verge of tears, but he needed to drive his point home if there was ever hope for both Buck ad him working at the 118 again. He was not interested in splitting their lives between two different firehouses or trying to trust someone else to be his partner. “Buck’s not going anywhere unless you make him. You should know that wrapping him in bubble wrap is just going to make him do something more dangerous because he thinks he’s being cast aside—that he’s not wanted. You know that, Bobby. ”

“He just needs time,” Bobby protested again, weaker this time. He was repeating the same argument because he had no other defense. He was as stuck as Eddie felt. 

Eddie could see Athena hovering at the patio door. She was watching closely but not interfering. He got the distinct impression that Athena was letting him press her husband—which was interesting but not necessarily helpful. 

“Buck needs time, or you do?” Eddie asked pointedly, not letting up. 

Bobby looked away from him, out over the backyard instead of Athena and the house. “You have to understand—“

“Bobby, you can’t single Buck out. You have to let him come back fully, or he…” Eddie stopped. Did he really know if Buck would come back? There was no guarantee based on their last discussion.

“You’re right,” the soft admission was hard on Bobby. “I know you’re right. I’ve been trying to be different with you. Follow the rules.”

“Yeah, but you should have made me get checked out yesterday or even after my suspension.” Eddie was probably stepping in it by saying that. He didn’t want to get medical clearance, but if Bobby was going to do that to Buck, he needed to do it to him. “You have to treat all of us the same.”

Bobby’s wry chuckle had an edge of bitterness. “You’re right.”

“Two in one day,” Eddie muttered under his breath. “So.  If Buck comes back—“

“What do you mean if?” Bobby straightened in his seat, alarmed. “He’s just on special assignment.”

“And how much do you know about that special assignment?” Eddie countered. He was genuinely curious about how much Bobby knew. 

“Obviously not as much as you,” Bobby shot back, annoyed. “What is Buck doing?”

“I’m not sure if I should tell you… “

“I know the chief is aware, so it can’t be too dangerous. Is he at another station? Why was that special cop from Hawaii looking for him? Is he in witness protection?” The thought of Buck in witness protection of some kind bothered Bobby, and he blanched a bit in fear before focusing back on Eddie, awaiting his answer. 

Eddie was torn. On the one hand, he wanted to tell Bobby everything, but on the other, Buck hadn’t told him anything, and evidently, neither had McGarrett, who’d arranged everything. 

“I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to tell you,” he rephrased, knowing his answer would only worry Bobby further. In so many ways, Bobby had taken on the role of pseudo-father for Buck, and it was apparent to everyone that there were many emotional attachments on both sides—hence the whole fight about being benched. 

“But he’s safe?” Bobby pushed, hands clutching at the table’s edge in a show of anxiety. 

“He’s fine for now,” Eddie hedged. Buck had said there was more danger on his last call, so telling Bobby he was perfectly safe would be lying. 

“What do you mean for now?” Bobby was now much more worried and not bothering to hide it. “I was told that it was a temporary reassignment that would be mostly observational—I assumed it was because he’d seen something he shouldn’t have, maybe during the tsunami.”

“Yeah,” Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. “I’ll have to ask Buck how much I can tell you.”

“So you have been talking to him?”

“I have,” Eddie answered calmly. “Have you? Have you even reached out via text or email? Called him? Let him know you still consider him part of our team?”

Eddie’s rapid-fire questions chastened Bobby. “No, I haven’t,” he admitted. 

“Maybe you should.” Eddie tried not to sound smug, but it probably had come off that way anyway. He was tired of arguing. “Are you going to treat Buck like you have been?”

Bobby was silent for a moment. “I can’t promise you that. Buck and I need to talk.”

“Sure,” Eddie shrugged, figuring that was fair as he couldn’t speak for Buck—only for himself. “But are you going to let him be my partner, or will you hassle him every time he steps up to do things?”

“I don’t do that!”

Eddie gave Bobby an unimpressed look that said Bobby was fooling no one. “You do—and I get it. Buck’s special, but you gotta let him do his job. I need him as my partner.”

Bobby fiddled with the carrots and celery. “When did you get so wise?”

That made Eddie laugh. “I’m not… but Frank is helping me get my head out of my ass.”

A small smile crept over Bobby’s face. “Since you brought it up… therapy is helping?”

“It is,” Eddie allowed. “I don’t want to admit it—but it is helping. Frank’s good, but don’t tell him I said that about him.”

“Don’t you have an appointment with him?”

“Yeah, in about an hour.”

“Then finish your lunch. How’s Christopher doing?” Bobby changed the subject and picked up his sandwich to take a bite, tabling their discussion. Athena met Eddie’s gaze briefly and gave him a salute with her coffee cup before fading away to go back to work. 

He’d passed her test—and maybe his own, too, on reflection. 

***

Later he wouldn’t remember what tipped him off that something wasn’t right. He’d been preoccupied, still mulling over what Bobby had said, but the blinking empty light on his fuel gauge meant he had to stop to refill the gas tank. Which was odd because he thought he’d had more than a quarter of a tank left this morning when he’d glanced at it on his way to Bobby’s. 

Eddie paid at the pump and had just put the nozzle into the receiver when something blunt pressed into his back just to the left of his spine. “Edmundo Diaz—don’t move,” was the quiet order. 

Freezing, Eddie looked straight forward into the reflection on the car. Two men were behind him, but their faces were too distorted in the reflection to see clearly who they were. His hands hanging loosely at his side were yanked behind, and the flexicuffs tightening made him want to struggle, but one of the men held a phone out that had a picture on it. It was a picture of him and Chris… from what looked like school drop-off two days ago based on their clothes.  

His breath caught like a knife in his throat. 

“Don’t make a scene—you wouldn’t want us to go after your son too.”

“Whatever you want—my wallet, phone, truck keys, whatever you can have. Just leave—“ he tried, barely keeping a lid on the panic threatening to make him lash out. He was supposed to pick up Chris after his appointment with Frank…

“Follow instructions, and we’ll leave him alone. Now you’re going to walk to that van,” there was a nudge towards the white work van on the other side of the pumps. Eddie shuffled towards it, and the other man, who he could barely catch in the periphery of his gaze, opened the back door, and he was shoved inside, knees hitting the floor painfully before a third man hauled him deep into the van by his clothes. 

Instinctively, he began to struggle, and a hood was pulled over his head. Unable to see, he couldn’t defend against several blows that fell—one to the head and another to each leg. Something in the bag smelled… it was chemical, and everything spun around him, and his limbs were slow to respond. The feeling of restraints being tied around his legs was distant, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

The last thing before he was out cold was the sound of the engine turning on and the sway of the van as it pulled away. 

Sometimes time doesn’t heal

no not all

Just stands still

While we fall

In or out of love again I doubt I’m gonna win you back

When you got eyes like that 

It won’t let me in

Always looking out

Always lookin’

Always lookin’

Always lookin’

Always looking out

Song: If I Had Eyes by Jack Johnson 

Notes:

So this chapter has been a long time coming. I took a bit of a hiatus for the end of the year and I’m now semi-job hunting (joy). This chapter has been re-written three times from different POVs and then Grammerly decided to start suggesting every other word was the start of sentence or needed random commas inserted everywhere.

So I apologize for any errors. I’ll eventually get around to fixing them.—edited thru Grammerly 08/21/2023

Anyways, thanks for reading and sticking with this fic. I promise I do intend to finish—just not very fast.

Chapter 10: FUBAR

Summary:

Buck learns what arrangements Eddie’s made for Christopher after being informed he’s missing. The 5-0 task force reaches out to LA and the search is on. Meanwhile, Eddie finds himself far from home and makes a new friend.

Notes:

Trigger warnings this chapter for panic attack (Buck) and some swearing.

FUBAR: Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition/Reason

This time I know I’m bound

To spit it back up

I didn’t want this

Salty Substitute, just not going to do

I need some air, if I’m going to live through

This experience reminds me of a clock

That just won’t tick

Drink the water, drink it down

Buck

Buck was surprised to see the number calling him. It was Christopher’s school—Durand. Fumbling, he answered the call, juggling his lunch. “Hello?

“Is this Evan Buckley?”

“This is he—but I go by Buck.”

“Okay... Buck. I’m Sophia Baxter, the administrative assistant at Durand. You’re listed as the second contact number for Christopher Diaz.”

Buck halted in the middle of the doorway where he could see the clock above the computer worktable—it was about a half hour after school dismissal for Christopher. “Is Christopher okay?” 

“Christopher is fine, and it’s just no one has come to pick him up today. He said it was supposed to be his father, but I’ve been unable to get Eddie Diaz on the phone number we have on file.”

“He was off today,” Buck said absently, already running through his last conversation with Eddie yesterday before Eddie’s shift about his plans for today, and he should have been able to pick up Chris as it was Carla’s day off since Eddie was going into his weekend off. “I’m out of town, but I will get a hold of someone to come pick him up. Can I call you back at this number?”

“Yes. I can stay, but I’m concerned that no one called.”

“Yeah, that’s weird for Eddie. I will be calling his family, and I will call you back with a plan.” Buck’s thoughts became more worried. It wasn’t like Eddie not to have Christopher’s schedule planned in detail. 

Making the appropriate noises to end the call, he immediately called Eddie as soon as the secretary hung up. Eddie’s phone rang and rang, but it went to voicemail. He dialed a second time—no answer. Buck texted Eddie a terse, ‘Call me now,’ which just showed as delivered.  

Switching to the location app that showed where someone was if they had authorized you—which Eddie and Buck had mutually done long ago because of shared trips with Christopher and one too many times getting separated at the zoo, his worry skyrocketed when it showed no current location for Eddie. 

It only showed that if you were out of cell phone range or if they turned off their phone. 

Buck pulled up Pepa’s number and hit dial perhaps a bit harder than necessary. Pepa answered on the fourth ring. “Buck? Is something wrong? I’m at work.”

Buck skipped to the point. “Eddie hasn’t picked up Christopher, and the school called me…. I guess I’m his second contact?”

“Yes, he mentioned that,” Pepa hummed.

“What?”

“With the paperwork and all,” Pepa sounded distracted, and there was background noise of her walking into a quieter area. 

“What paperwork?”

“He didn’t tell you?

“Tell me what?” Buck’s anxiety was climbing. What paperwork? Where was Eddie?

Pepa huffed into the phone as she closed a door with a quiet click. “I’m sure he meant to tell you.”

“Tell me what, Tia?” That came out a bit harsh, and out of the corner of Buck’s eye, he could see Danny and Steve coming out of their offices. 

“It’s really something you need to discuss with Eddito,” Pepa hedged, “but he made sure Mama and myself knew about it.”

“Pepa,” Buck was begging her to get to the point. “What paperwork?”

“If something were to happen to Eddito, you would be the person to care for Christopher—and Buck, you need to discuss this with Eddito, not me.”

Buck was floundering. Eddie had done what? “What?”

Pepa’s sigh was loud and frustrated, but she changed the subject. “You said Eddito didn’t pick up Christopher?”

“No. And I’m out of… state.”

“Eddito did mention you were in Hawaii, and he didn’t say what you were doing there….”

“Pepa!”

Silence.

“Pinching the bridge of his nose, Buck started pacing in agitation. “Someone needs to pick up Chris.”

“I can… well… it will be at least a half hour?”

“I will let the school know. Can you keep him until…”

“Sure, nene,” Pepa paused, but her voice was gentle as she continued speaking. “Eddito meant to tell you… I think he was waiting for you to return from your trip.”

“How long?”

Another sigh. “He told Mama and me, oh… last week? But I got the impression he did it a while ago.”

Eddie had made this decision when? And over Pepa? Over Abuela? Buck understood why it wouldn’t be Eddie’s parents, but there was Adriana or Sophia. Why him? He’d… god damnit Eddie! This was another one of his gestures, wasn’t it? Like giving him Christopher to help cheer him up after being relegated to being a fire marshal or trusting him after the tsunami?

Why couldn’t Eddie just say things like a normal person? He was going to give Buck a heart attack before his thirtieth birthday next year because his heart was pounding so hard in his chest that it felt about ready to exit his rib cage. 

“Buck? You there, nene?”

“I need to talk to Eddie. If you hear from him… can you tell him to call me?”

“I will, nene.”

“Thanks, Pepa.”

“I will take care of Christopher. I am sure Eddie is fine.”

Buck could tell that Pepa was concerned but trying to act like it was fine for his sake. Eddie never dropped the ball with Christopher like this, and something had to have happened if he hadn’t picked him up. 

Saying goodbye to Pepa, his pacing was interrupted by Steve stepping in his way. “Buck? What’s going on?”

“Eddie didn’t show up to pick up Christopher and isn’t answering his phone.”

“What’s his cellphone number?” Chin asked, activating the tracing software. 

Buck gave Chin the number. 

“His phone last pinged this tower,” Chin’s fingers flew across the digital keyboard. “That was almost two hours ago. Triangulating.”

Anxiously watching, Buck clutched his biceps hard enough to bruise. With everything that had been going on, he hadn’t thought he’d have to worry about Eddie too. Eddie had said he was thinking about taking Chris to the zoo this weekend without him, and he’d made that dumb joke about saying hi to all the animals for him and—

“Last location is the Mobil gas station on Santa Monica and Highland.”

“That’s not too far from Bobby and Athena’s….” 

Chin’s fingers froze on the keyboard. “Buck….”

“What?” Dread flooded him. Chin wasn’t looking at him.

“There was a 911 call from that gas station about an hour and a half ago.”

It felt like his heart was beating out of his chest that was suddenly three sizes too small for him to breathe. “What?” Danny’s arm snaked around him to pull him close, his fingers trying to pry Buck’s off his arm. 

“Tell us, Chin,” Danny said calmly, making Buck look at him. The shorter man was focused entirely on Chin, expression icy. Steve was at Danny’s shoulder, his facial expression just as stony. 

Clearing his throat, Chin’s eyes finally met his. There was a shared sadness in his gaze. “They reported an abandoned pickup truck with fuel leaking from the tank. Station cameras show a possible abduction of the male driver.”

Everything just stopped. 

Eddie was….

Eddie…

No…

Who would….

No…

No

Nononnonononononononononononononononononono!

“Buck! Buck! Kid! Evan!”

He was distantly aware of Steve calling his name. 

Eddie was… someone had grabbed Eddie. 

Eddie had been taken. 

There was this high-pitched ringing noise. It was so loud it hurt his ears, but he couldn't do anything—Buck was frozen in place. 

"Hondo, yeah, I need a favor. I need you to take over a case. Edmundo Díaz was kidnapped from a Mobil gas station on Santa Monica and Highland about two hours ago. There was a 911 call from the station, but the report says there was a man kidnapped, and Eddie's cell phone goes silent there at the same time."

"C'mon kid, snap out of it," that was Danny. Danny, who was shaking him slightly and still holding him. "Buck? Kid?"

"Eddie—no… they couldn't have… is this my fault?"

"Absolutely not," Danny snaps. "This is not your fault. If Wo Fat did this, he will regret it."

"How?" Buck asks, heartbroken. It's not a simple 'How is Wo Fat going to regret this'; it's a 'How am I going to get Eddie back? Is Eddie going to be okay? Is this my fault?'

Is this my fault…?

Danny seems to get what Buck is asking. “This is NOT your fault,” he reiterates, crouching down to Buck’s level since he’s now sitting on the hard floor in the middle of the doorway; his knees had buckled underneath him at some point. “That bastard has something mentally wrong with him. We’re going to get Eddie back.”

“You can’t promise me that,” Buck says, knowing it’s true. He’s been counseled by Bobby, Athena, Hen, Chimney, Maddie, and even Eddie in the past that they don’t make promises they can’t keep. He’s been on the other side picking and choosing his words carefully when talking to families of accident victims. Victims will not always be fine even if the injury appears minor—things can change or be hidden until it’s too late.  

“Buck, breathe with me,” Danny instructs. “In, one, two, three, out, one, two, three.”  

He’s hyperventilating, and he can’t stop.  

“C’mon kid—work with me. Breathe in…… breathe, out,” Danny’s hand is on his chest, tapping each time he wants Buck to breathe in and out. Steve is quiet, pressed against Buck’s back and providing physical support as otherwise he’s pretty sure he’d be passed out on the ground. 

He struggles to breathe with Danny, but each breath is fighting him, wanting to stick in his throat, and his chest squeezes painfully, heart rabbiting against his ribs. Spots begin to dance across his vision. 

Steve’s arms wrap around him from behind, and Buck can feel his back against Steve’s chest. Those arms constrict around his already tight chest, “Breathe out! Steve barks in his best command voice. 

Buck was conditioned for years to follow commands like that even if he was half dead, and it does the trick, and he breathes out.  

The arms loosen, “Breathe in!”

He can feel Steve’s chest expanding behind him, the exaggerated movement of air from him breathing in loudly through his mouth, and Buck copies him. 

They repeat this cycle over and over again, in and out, gradually lengthening to deep, slow, and even breaths used during yoga or meditation. Buck feels shaky and like a marionette whose strings have been cut. All that exists are Steve’s orders, his hands limply resting on Steve’s bare forearms. 

“I’ve got you,” Steve tells him. “I’ve got you, kid.”

It’s easy to believe Steve when he talks like this. Steve’s control of the situation is something he’s been trained to follow, to believe in. His thoughts are sluggish but don’t restart into the same death spiral of panic he’d been caught in before. 

What feels like an eternity only takes less than ten minutes.  

“I need to call Durand back—tell them Pepa will pick up Chris.”

Danny’s frown deepens, his eyes meeting Steve’s over Buck’s shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything. Anxiously, Buck turns to look at Steve, whose gaze slides to meet his.  

“I think That Pepa needs protection.”

Buck’s first instinct is to protest Chris or Pepa needing a bodyguard following them, but he squashes it immediately. He can see the logic behind such an action, and Pepa isn’t law enforcement or a trained seal. “Hondo?”

“Yeah. Let me get on the phone with him while you call the school back,” Steve soothes Buck, rubbing his arm as they both stand. “We’ve got work to do.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, taking his phone from Danny as he’d dropped it. He still feels wiped and unsteady, but he can power through. Numbly, he hits redial over Durand’s number.

“Is this Sophia?” 

“This is she.”

“It’s Evan Buckley calling you back regarding Christopher. Is he still with you?”  

“Yep. It’s just him and me hanging out at the bench out front by the pickup circle. Are you on your way?” Buck can hear Christopher in the background asking if it’s his Dad on the phone, and Buck’s hand clenches so hard on his phone that the plastic creeks in protest.

“Can you do me a favor and go inside?” Buck asks calmly. He knows the exact spot Sophia is talking about, and it’s unprotected. He’ll feel much better once he knows Christopher has someone watching him that’s prepared to do whatever is necessary, like Hondo or one of Hondo’s team if it can’t be him. 

“Um, sure, but why? It’s a lovely day, and we’re in the shade, so no problems with sunburn.”

“It’s not that. Can you please go inside?” He presses.

Sophia seems to pick up that Buck is trying not to make her panic, and the good humor disappears from her voice. “Has something happened?”

“Yes. Can you and Christopher please go inside,” he repeats his request calmly. 

“You’re making me nervous, Mr. Buckley.”

“I’m sorry, but can you please go inside?”

“We’re going, but I’m going to need you to explain.”

Buck takes a deep breath and rips off the bandaid. “Christopher’s father was likely abducted this afternoon. The LAPD is involved, and we’re not exactly sure yet why he was taken, but I need to make sure you and Christopher are safe. Sitting out in the open isn’t a good idea right now.”

“Yes, Mr. Buckley. We’re moving inside now.”  

Buck can hear Sophia asking Chris to gather his things and the sound of movement, and about a minute later, the opening of a door. In the background, Chris asks if Buck will pick him up and how that doesn’t make sense because he’s in Hawaii and has been teaching him all about it. Did Miss Sophia know the official fish of Hawaii is the humuhumunukunukuapuaa? The sound of Sophia’s laugh has a nervous edge, but she complies with moving Chris to a safer spot. 

He doesn’t realize until he almost runs Danny over that he’s been pacing again in the space in front of Danny and Steve’s offices. Danny simply moves out of his way, but Buck can feel his gaze heavy on his shoulders as he paces.  

“We’re inside,” Sophia informs him.  

“Thanks,” Buck lets out a sigh and stops pacing. “Chris’ Tia—aunt—Pepa is going to be the one picking him up. There may or may not be a police officer accompanying her.”

“I’ll need to see her driver’s license before releasing Christopher to her since she’s not Mr. Diaz nor you.”

“That’s good,” Buck assures her. He knows that Durand only allows three people to be on the pickup list for any individual kid, and Carla has to be the third person in Chris’ case. 

“I’ll also need to inform the principal and the safety officer.”

“Also good. I’m not sure if Chris will be in school or not the rest of the week while we decide what’s safe.”

“Can I have the principal, Mr. Summers, reach out to you?”

“That would be good.”

“We don’t have a protocol for this,” she says, nervous. “Is… Is Mr. Diaz going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Buck manages to get out. “I hope so.”

“The police are on it?”

“In two states.” Sophia says nothing, but Chris is in the background, demanding to know what’s happening. “Can you put Chris on the phone?”

“One second—Christopher, it’s Mr. Buckley. Do you want to talk to him?”

Chris’ yes is loudly in the affirmative, and there’s a bit of noise as the phone is handed off. “Buck? Where’s Dad? He was supposed to be here, and he’s late, and all the other kids are gone.”

“Christopher,” he starts, trying to find the words to explain and keep Chris calm, “Your Tia Pepa is going to pick you up.”

Suspicion colors Chris’ voice. “It was supposed to be Dad. Did… Is Dad okay?”

Buck wipes his eyes, realizing he’s crying soundlessly. “Your Dad is okay as far as I know.”

It’s the wrong choice of words. Christopher has heard this before, but it was from Eddie, not Buck, about Shannon dying and Buck with the bombing. He’s getting old enough to pick up and understand when adults try to sound positive about bad things. “You don’t know for sure.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and Buck doesn’t want to make things worse by pretending it is. “I don’t, Superman. Some very bad guys I’ve been after took your Dad to get back at me.” The words are heavy as they fall off his tongue, his mouth dry even as his eyes flood. “I’m sorry that they did this because of me.”

“Is Dad going to be okay? You’ll get him back?”

He’s been shot before, and it hurt less than this. Having his leg crushed under a ladder truck hurt less. “Your Dad’s strong, Superman. Stronger than me. The other woman who was also taken was okay this morning, and we’re working to find them and get them back—both her and your Dad. I will stop at nothing to bring him back to you.”

“You promise?” Chris’ voice is heavy, he’s holding back tears, too, and Buck wants to reach through the phone and envelope him in the biggest bear hug ever to protect him from the world. 

“I promise you I will get him back.” He’s never meant anything so much in his life. He’ll get Eddie back or die trying. He will tear this island apart until he finds Wo Fat, and then… then he’ll do whatever it takes. If even one single hair on Eddie’s head is hurt… 

Christopher is quiet on the line, sniffles coming through clearly, and each one is heartbreaking because he’s trying to be brave and older than his years. Buck’s Superman is so strong for being so young, and Eddie…

God. Eddie had made him Christopher’s backup guardian.  

If Buck could scream and shake Eddie for not finding the words to tell him about his decision, Buck would. Then he’d wrap himself around Eddie and never let go because…

He was in love with him. 

Irrevocably so. 

Eddie was never going to get kidnapped again under Buck’s watch. He was going to live to grow old and grey, watch Christopher go off to college, get married, and have kids of his own. A coldness settles into Buck’s gut and hardens into resolve. The mental headspace he’d worked so hard to get out of once he’d left the Navy settles around his shoulders like an old friend, whispering to him darkly as it had before in the Sandbox. Buck’s body is coiled tight, ready to react when the time is right. 

“Are you going to come home?” Chris asks, the question making Buck refocus. 

Is he? Should he? Buck doesn’t… he needs to be here trying to find Eddie. If Wo Fat took him, then that means Buck needs to be here to track him down. Eddie as leverage only makes sense if he’s here, meaning Eddie will need to be flown or shipped to Hawaii illegally. Buck knows he will be more effective here than sitting on his hands anxiously in LA. 

“I will when I find your Dad.” Buck refuses to contemplate what will happen if he can’t find Eddie in a few days. He’ll cross that bridge when he has to. 

There’s a pause, then another question. “Who’s going to look after me then?”

It’s a good question. “For now, your Tia Pepa will take you tonight. You know your Dad’s friend Mr. Deacon?”

“Yeah. He’s Lila’s Dad.”

“He’s a police officer. I’m going to talk to him about making sure you’re safe too.”

“Is that why Miss Sophia made us go back inside?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, Buck.”  

“I love you too, Superman.”

“Find Dad, Buck, and then come home.”

“I will, Superman.”

I want to wake up

From this concussion

But my dream is just not done

I’m late again,

It’s just one of those

Bad days look outside and

Be careful what you ride

You just might find

That you’re out of time

To swim ashore

If I drift long enough

I’ll be home

***

Steve

Kono being taken was an error on their part, and they hadn’t been expecting it on what was for 5-0 a routine case. Buck’s Eddie being taken even after they’d arranged for some coverage of Buck’s family was a disaster, and Steve was going to everything he could to fix this. Holding Buck as he shook apart had rattled him, so Steve doubled down. 

While Buck was talking to the school, he called Hondo back. 

Hondo’s aggravated, “It’s been less than ten minutes—“ wasn’t surprising. 

“How did Diaz get taken from under your nose?” Steve snaps. 

Hondo sighs, and his tone is more businesslike when he starts talking. “Deacon had to pick up a sick kid from daycare—Diaz was at his Captain’s house with his very capable police sergeant wife at home for lunch. Deacon was dropping his kid off at home when he got the notice that Diaz was leaving and was en route to cover him. It was maybe a twenty-minute window.”

“Well, that’s all they needed. Did you notice anyone following Diaz?”

“No,” Hondo growls. “Deacon’s about ready to tear LA apart since he’s friendly with Diaz, and it happened on his watch, but he’s personally going to watch the little Diaz if Buckley lets him. Annie’s his wife, and she’ll shoot anyone she doesn’t know who tries to come after them.” 

“I’ll ask Buck—he might have other ideas.”

“Well, in the meantime, Deacon will sit on the kid until he’s told not to. Not sure if I can get him to let the kid out of his sight right now.”

Steve could imagine how Deacon felt. Deacon was a good man, honest and dedicated to his job. Steve had a lot of respect for him, but knowing that they should have told Diaz he’d have a protection detail and he wasn’t to leave without it would have prevented this. 

If wishes were horses… hindsight was always 20/20. 

“What do you know?”

“Not much more than you. LAPD took the call. We’re commandeering the investigation.”

“Not assisting?”

“No. We have a narrow window before we’ll never figure out where Diaz is.”

“If it’s Wo Fat, then he will need to transport Diaz here.”

“Probably. Although he won’t need to if he only wants to distract you.”

“That’s possible,” Steve allows. However, he knows Wo Fat better than Hondo does. “If it were someone else? I’d say it was likely… but not this time. Wo Fat likes to taunt, and he’ll want to put Diaz with Kono and send pictures.”

“You’re sure?” Hondo’s skepticism is apparent, but he’s asking Steve to direct him as he had in the field years ago. 

“I’m very sure. We’re looking at all routes between LA and Oahu.”

“Ships take a long time but are easier to slip out. Planes are faster, and I’ll alert the port police and FAA.”

“Make sure you cover all the ports.”

“Yes, Smooth Dawg—this isn’t my first rodeo.”

Steve pauses, realizing he shouldn’t try to tell Hondo how to do his job. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. If it were me, I’d use either Long Beach or Hueneme. With all the oil workers at Hueneme, it’s easier to go unnoticed.”

“LA’s the closest.”

“Yeah, but Long Beach is busier. The busier, the better if you want to go unnoticed.”

“True.”

“How patient is your Wo Fat?”

“He doesn’t belong to me,” Steve growls despite knowing that Hondo is being glib to defuse the situation, it’s having the opposite effect. 

“Okay…. How patient is this Wo Fat who most definitely has no relationship with you, such as being your own personal nemesis?”

“He…he can be patient. He’s been playing a twisted, long game on me since we first met.”

“What kind of long game?”

“I wish I knew,” Steve confesses. 

“What do you think he wants?”

“Me to suffer and anyone I consider family.”

“So it’s personal.”

“Very.” Steve debates telling Hondo about the weird bond between his mother and Wo Fat. It’s painful, but he knows he can’t trust his mother if she shows up. Danny is probably already putting out feelers on his mom’s whereabouts without asking Steve for permission, and he’s glad that his partner will do so without bothering to ask him because if Danny asked, he would have to make the decision himself. 

It’s for the better that Danny sometimes is like a thoroughbred racehorse. He gets the bit between his teeth, and then there’s no stopping him when he runs down a lead. Steve knows he can be the same—it’s why they’re two sides of the same coin. 

“Why do I sense that there’s a long story here?” Hondo grouches and then sighs. “I’m doing what I can, and I’ll keep you updated. As soon as we find a lead, you’ll know. How’s the kid doing?”

“How do you think?” Steve eyes Buck who looks like he’s been sucker punched and hunched over his phone. From what he can tell, Buck’s talking to his and Diaz’s kid, and Steve probably should be monitoring that call closer than he is, given how ill Buck looks. 

“Not good. Kid’s Insta is full of him with both Papa Diaz and Kid Diaz. They’re absolutely adorable, happy, and if I had someone who looks at me like Papa Diaz looks at Kid, I’d have married them already and have two more kids.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty obvious.”

“Makes a good soft target and good leverage,” Hondo adds, voice sad. “We’ll get him back, Steve. Tell Kid that we’re tearing apart LA for him.”

“I will.”

Hanging up, Steve thinks about what to do next. Hondo’s capable, and he trusts him but sitting inactive isn’t something Steve can do. Chin is back at the computer table, his fingers dancing across it as he cross-references and pulls up more camera feeds. The glances he’s shooting at Buck suggest he’s trying to track whoever snatched Diaz, so Steve joins Chin while keeping an eye on Buck, who’s finishing up his call.

“What have you got?”

“Two vans were around the gas station within ten minutes of the call coming in. Gas station attendant didn’t see whatever went down, just noticed that the pump was still going, which was weird.”

“How big of a hole did they leave in the gas tank?”

“It probably got bigger when pressure was put in as Diaz filed the tank. The call mentions a gas puddle under the truck.”

“So, two vans?”

“Both plain white utility vans with tinted windows. No markings or logos but with more than a few dents and dings. I pulled plates, and both are from the same hourly rental place in Santa Barbara. I requested someone to pull the rental agreements, but the place has Yelp reviews where the common phrase used was shady but reliable and cheap.”

“Really?”

“I’m not kidding. Also, the guy who runs the rental counter has wandering hands but doesn’t ask questions about intended use.”

Steve chews on his inner cheek. “Anything else?”

“They take cash.”

“In this day and age?” Steve asks, skeptical. He’s never rented a car before without needing to hand over a credit card, and almost every one on the island has a do-not-rent policy regarding 5-0 because of incidents over the years. 

“LAPD has an open file on the place, and I can’t access it remotely, but the unit assigned to it works gang activities like chop shops and smuggling.”

“Maybe that’s our link?”

“On it. I sent the intel to LAPD and Hondo.”

“Thanks, Chin. Keep working—I’m going to go check on Buck.”

Chin nods, eyes already refocused on his screen. 

Buck has his head in his hands and his cell phone clutched between his fingers. His call is over, but he’s taking deep shuddering breaths, sitting against the wall with his knees bent at an angle that makes Steve’s knees wince and remind him that he’s getting old. Sliding down the wall, Steve sits next to him.  

“Christopher safe?”

“Yeah. Police showed up as I was finishing talking to him.” Buck still hasn’t taken his hands down, hiding his face from the world. 

“Are you okay with Christopher staying with Deacon?”

Buck finally pulls his hands down. His eyes are red and puffy from crying, but he’s focused. “Eddie said Deacon was someone he trusted.”

“Do you need to call Eddie’s family? It might come better from you to suggest Christopher stay with a police officer.”

A painful, sharp laugh explodes out of Buck, but there’s no humor on his face. “It’s not their call to make.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, frowning. 

“It’s mine. If… If Eddie is incapacitated or something happens to him, I’m Christopher’s guardian.”

“Okay?” Steve draws out the word, not sure if Buck is happy about being named guardian for Diaz’s kid or not. 

“He didn’t tell me. The bastard filed the paperwork and everything and didn’t tell me!”

“Oh. Well.”

“Yeah.” The fight has gone out of Buck momentarily, and his phone dangles from loose fingers. “I should be in LA.”

“If you think that’s best,” Steve starts, but Buck keeps talking.

“I should be in LA because Christopher needs Eddie, and I’m a poor substitute… but I can’t… Eddie was taken because of me. How can I face Christopher when it was my fault?”

“It’s not your fault,” Steve insists firmly. “Get it through your head right now; this is Wo Fat’s fault—not yours. If you want to blame someone, then blame me for not killing him when I had the chance.”

Buck’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring as his facial expression hardens. “If it’s not my fault, then it definitely isn’t yours. This Wo Fat is a fucking psychopath.”

Listening to the profanity dripping off Buck’s tongue, Steve feels himself slipping back into what Danny jokingly (and derisively) calls ‘mission mode.’ When deployed, language and grooming standards relaxed quite a bit in the seals, and he could see Buck doing the same. Buck hardly ever swore anymore—both because of who he was, his job, and the amount of time he spent around kids. He was reverting to his training. 

Next thing Steve knew, he’d be swearing too. 

Danny was going to kill him if he didn’t bite his tongue. 

“You already talked to Christopher,” Steve says, refocusing on the current issue. “Did Christopher blame you?”

“No. He said… He said to get Eddie back and then come home.” Buck has that thousand-yard stare on his face that Steve recognized from the sandbox when Buck had been the team sniper. Buck’s official kill count was maybe half his unofficial one—he’d been a hell of a sniper and had protected many service members and innocent civilians in the few years he’d served as overwatch.

Steve realizes the situation needs that version of Evan—not the firefighter but the Navy Seal.

“Then that’s the mission. We’re going to find Eddie, rescue him, and get you both home,” Steve says in his best commander voice that he knows will both soothe Buck and focus him. Their gaze holds, and Steve projects as much confidence as he can muster, believing it into truth. “Do you hear me, Lieutenant Buckley?”

Buck is shaking slightly. It’s so fine that if they weren’t so close, Steve wouldn’t notice it, the struggle going on within Buck manifesting as he returns to the headspace they both used to live in to get through the day.“Sir, yes, Sir!” 

Steve might regret this later, but for now, it’s what Buck needs to survive. 

He’s not admitting that he might need it too. 

“Get back to the tracing. We find Wo Fat, and we find Diaz and Kono.”

Buck climbs to his feet stiffly and almost marches to the shared desk space he’d been using earlier. He doesn’t salute because he doesn’t need to—they both know the mission. 

Steve returns to making phone calls. He’s got more than a few contacts he hasn’t reached out to yet that he’s been holding in reserve or not thinking were relevant but could be now. 

They’ve all got work to do.

He can shove his personal regrets down later when he’s got time for them.

 

He’s got delusions between his ears

Man it takes up too much space

And all that tension between his gears man

He’ll never ever leave this place

He’s got stones instead of bones

And everybody knows

Ah, man, that can make you real slow

And if heave was below

He’d know just where to go

Dive in the ocean

And he’d sink like a stone

And he’d say

It’s time to swim ashore

If I drift long enough

I’ll be home

***

Danny

It’s terrible to watch Steve and Buck harden before his eyes. Shared trauma binds them closer than any sibling bond, and they feed off each other’s mood in a vicious cycle of codependency. Danny wants to tear at it, telling them they don’t have to do this again—don the mantle of the hardened warrior.  

He knows that Steve did things in the name of his country that damaged his soul, but now he also sees it in Buck. This hard, unfeeling, unflinching coldness scares Danny and makes the primitive instincts within him stir and scream that Steve and Buck are dangerous and that he should be wary of them. 

Neither Steve nor Buck would ever harm Danny or their friends or families. 

The same cannot be said for their enemies—and Wo Fat is enemy number one. 

On the other hand, Danny thinks Wo Fat should get precisely what is coming to him.

Just not at the expense of further damage to Steve or Buck. 

He isn’t sure how he’s going to stop that, though. 

All day, he’s watched Chin frown over the computer. His fingers have danced across the screen, trawling through every traffic camera they can access, ship manifests, and airplane cargo lists. If it’s a legitimate way to get someone from the mainland to Oahu, Chin has his fingers on it. 

The problem is that smuggling is illegal by nature and not exactly something that comes with something as practical as a tracking number for one lost Edmundo Diaz. 

Danny is willing to bet they won’t figure out how Wo Fat is moving Diaz until it’s too late to stop the transfer. A time frame would be helpful, but they’re not usually that lucky. 

Despite being at it all day, Hondo’s tearing apart the LA and Long Beach ports and hasn’t found anything yet. However, Danny’s money isn’t on Diaz being moved by boat, even if that’s probably the best way to fly under the radar. The transit time is too long, and Wo Fat’s already been sitting on Kono for several days. The longer he has to keep her, the greater the chance of something going wrong—either because Kono makes her displeasure known and escapes or she’s injured because she’s being held against her will. 

Danny hates that Wo Fat’s minions might get a bit too rough with either Kono or Diaz. None of them will take it well if they don’t get them back in one piece. 

So he starts making phone calls, the same as Steve. 

Toast hasn’t heard anything—but he sounds remarkably clear-headed for a Tuesday afternoon and promises to do some ‘looking around’ in ways that Danny doesn’t want to know the details of.  

He reaches out to Jerry, who like Toast, doesn’t admit to knowing anything, but he’s twitchy in a way that suggests he might know something but not enough to tell Danny over the phone. Danny begs him to look into things and gets a hesitant yes. 

Danny goes down his list. Every contact, every person he knows that has connections to anything slightly less than legal on the islands—even those they’ve busted in the past that are now out on parole. He shakes the coconut wireless tree that this crazy pineapple-infested island thrives upon and gathers up anything that shakes loose.  

He says they’ll pay for information that leads to recovery but doesn’t specify an amount because that’ll be a call to make later. 

Danny closed the blinds on his windows so he wouldn’t be distracted, but he could hear Steve, Buck, and Chim as they passed by, their voices muffled through the thick glass. Steve knocks and pokes his head in only once, asking if Danny wants something from Kamekona’s. 

A food run to Kamekona’s is more likely than not Steve having a private chat with the big Hawaiian. It’ll do Buck good if Shamu borrows him to make him cook, as it seems to settle the younger seal. 

Otherwise, Danny’s not sure how he’ll get Buck or Steve to sleep tonight without knocking them over the head. 

He might have to get Chim to help. They’re both a lot taller than him, and he’s likely only to catch one of them by surprise. 

Steve and Buck are gone for a while, and it is longer than it takes just to pick up a food order. 

When they return, neither of them looks any better than they did before. 

Danny returns to his old-fashioned Rolodex that Steve likes to make fun of because it’s so old-fashioned. Kamekona’s huli huli chicken goes cold on the corner of his desk next to the picture of Grace and Charlie at one of Steve’s team barbecues. 

There’s a knock on the doorframe, and he sees Steve standing there. He looks tired and has a few days’ worth of stubble on his cheeks, making him look older. Danny wonders when the grey started showing and if he’d not noticed it or if it was new? Steve wasn’t the vain type to dye his hair—he just got a cut from his favorite barber because he did it for free. 

“It’s getting late,” Steve said, entering Danny’s office and closing the door behind him to take the chair across from Danny and put his feet up on the corner of the desk. Danny should tell him not to be an animal and sit on the chair normally, but he’s running out of energy, and more coffee will make him jittery.  

“Hondo find anything?”

Steve rubs his face, hiding a yawn behind his hand and letting his armored facade slip away for a moment so Danny can see just how much the day has worn on Steve, and he aches in sympathy. “No. It’s like Diaz dropped off the face of the planet, and nobody knows anything.”

Danny eyes his Rolodex. There are still a few more people he can try and call tonight. “What did Kawika say?”

“He hasn’t heard anything about a new smuggling route, but he said he’d start asking around.”

“He knows this is Wo Fat?”

“Yeah. I told him. He knows to be careful.”

Danny snorts. Kawika and careful do not belong in the same sentence. “I’m sure he was impressed.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “He’s Kapu, and he can take care of himself.”

“Not if this comes as a stab in the back,” Danny insists. He does not have the same faith in the self-appointed guardians of the islands that Steve does. “Where’d Buck get to?”

“Chin took him to help install a security system at your place, and he said they’d have to use fewer ladders,” Steve jokes, and it’s Danny’s turn to roll his eyes—a shot at him for being short and making fun of Buck’s height at the same time. Steve must really be scrapping rock bottom if he was making this kind of joke. 

Then again, weren’t they all?  

Sobering, Danny changes the topic of the conversation. “Buck going to be okay?”

Steve’s expression falls and settles into a grimace. “Not if we don’t get Diaz back in one piece.”

“Yeah. He’s had some tough knocks.”

“We’re going to get him back, Danny,” Steve pleads, asking Danny to believe him like it might make it come true like one of Grace’s wishes when she blew out her birthday cake candles last month, “Kono too.” 

When Steve’s like this, lost and promising things he can’t guarantee, Danny wants to wrap him in bubble wrap, then find Doris McGarrett and give her a piece of his mind about how parents shouldn’t damage their children. Steve has this thing where he ties up his self-worth in what he can do for others, and he gives so damn much that Danny wonders if he ever keeps anything back for himself. 

Danny’s viciously glad that Doris hasn’t shown up. Steve’s warning off of Joe earlier has been respected thus far, but Danny won’t be surprised if Joe shows up offering his help despite this. The cherry on top would be Doris’ presence. 

“I called Cath,” Steve interrupts Danny’s thoughts. He’s getting tired and chasing mental white rabbits. 

“What? Why?”

“She has a lot of contacts,” Steve argues weakly. 

“Yeah. And a lot of them are the same contacts you’ve been talking to.”

“Well, she’s in LA. Helping Hondo.”

“I’m sure he’s glad to see her,” Danny shoots back, surprised at his own vehemence, and so is Steve. 

“Danny?”

“I’m sorry,” Danny waves it away, rubbing at his face and realizing he probably looks as rough as Steve. He didn’t shave this morning either because of the photos. 

“We’re all tired,” Steve placates. 

“Yeah. So what did Cath offer?” Cath’s specialty always was more terrorism and military targets, and Diaz isn’t military. 

“Diaz was Army, but he’s been out for a while--nothing there to check. Cath’s eliminating other reasons for Diaz getting snatched.”

“Like?” 

Steve looks a bit uncomfortable at the question. “Don’t tell Buck… but I asked her to make sure there wasn’t any other reason for Diaz to be in trouble.”

“The fighting ring?”

“Yeah. And Diaz’s parents. They’ve made noise in the past about trying to challenge Diaz for custody of Christopher.” 

“If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck—“

“It’s a duck. I’m just asking her to be thorough. We can’t afford to miss something.”

“Hadn’t Hondo thought of that?”

“He had. He’s glad to offload it to someone like Cath, though. She’s an unknown, so she won’t be spotted as undercover if she shows up to a fight.”

“You sent Cath to an underground junkyard fight?” Danny asks Steve incredulously. After the whole roller derby thing, he thought Steve had better sense than this. 

“Cath is a capable woman, and she’s got backup if she needs it,” Steve assures him calmly. “Besides, it looks better because Diaz’s entry ticket to the fights was punched by the same woman that’s getting Cath her in. She’s motivated to keep Cath safe.”

“Because she’s going to get fired if she doesn’t? Jesus.”

“They took Alonso with them—one of Hondo’s people.”

“Yeah… and are they participating in the fights?”

“I don’t know, and I trust them to make the right call,” Steve says defensively. 

Danny rubs his temples, fighting off a looming headache. He’s been staring at his own terrible cramped handwriting for hours. Steve’s fingers replace his, and he lets his eyes close with a groan as Steve rubs his neck and temples. 

“You got another headache?” Steve’s voice is gentle and soft. He’s practically sitting on Danny’s desk as he hovers, but Danny doesn’t care. They’re alone in the office, and if Steve wants to touch him, Danny’s going to let him. 

“Yeah.”

“I can get you some ibuprofen or Tylenol?”

“Took some with the Alka-Seltzer earlier.” Danny will pay for Steve to keep up the neck massage he’s giving. Steve’s fingers are digging into the knot that had been forming between Danny’s shoulders, and when it releases, he bites his tongue to stop from moaning. 

“You didn’t eat.” There’s disapproval and worry in Steve’s tone. 

“Wasn’t hungry.”  

He wasn’t.  

“This has been sitting out too long now. Do you want me to order something?”

“Let me rephrase. I am not hungry right now, nor was I.”

Steve chuckles, and his fingers find another knot, working into Danny’s left shoulder that he’d slept on last night on the sofa for a few hours. He’s ignoring Danny’s grumbling like usual. 

“These headaches of yours worry me.”  

Danny opens his eyes at this. Steve is close—closer than he’d thought. He’s wrapped himself around Danny, and they’re not touching other than where Steve’s hands are still rubbing his shoulders, but he can feel his body heat because Steve is that close. 

Steve’s observing Danny, waiting for him to say something about the concern he’d voiced, and Danny is floundering with what to say. He stupidly lands on, “They’re just headaches.”

“You’ve been getting a lot of them.”

“I get them when I’m stressed.”

“You get them less when you sleep over.”

“That’s because I sleep better at your place,” slips out before he can take the words back. 

“Why?”

It’s an innocuous question. Why? Why, indeed.  

He has his theories. Danny had slept better when he was still married and sharing a bed with Rachel, and he could roll over and cuddle with her, listening to her breathe. He slept worse when alone because he hated being alone. It’d never been a problem until he and Rachel had started having problems, and she’d kicked him to the couch most nights, denying him coldly. 

Danny was like a dog that needed a companion or otherwise would tear things apart out of anxiety—he needed another heartbeat to listen to in the night. Sleeping at Steve’s and knowing he was just upstairs or hearing his footsteps when he got up at night to do his patrols around the house that Steve swore he didn’t do but Danny had watched him do every night he’d slept over unless Steve was drugged or concussed… there was a rhythm to those nights. They usually watched a movie after dinner or a game and sat too close on the couch because Danny was too tactile, and Steve seemed to crave touch as much as Danny needed to give it.

Confessing this to Steve, however, was probably not in Danny’s best interest. Knowing Steve, he’d have Danny moved in by the end of the week, and Danny needed just a little bit of space for when Steve would inevitably find either another woman or Cath would finally wander back his way. 

Danny didn’t need a front-row seat to Steve choosing a leggy brunette or blonde over him. He was already going to be too close, and it would hurt when it finally happened. If Steve is talking to Cath, then… she will probably come back at some point. Danny hadn’t known they’d still been talking after she left him in Afghanistan a year ago to go chasing after missing villagers and hadn’t wanted Steve’s help. 

Shit. This case kept bringing up their greatest hits of trouble and recognizable faces. 

“Why do you sleep better at my place, Danny?” Steve repeats, drawing Danny from his cyclical depressed thoughts. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Danny deflects. 

Steve doesn’t say anything but shifts his weight, and then he’s pressed against Danny’s left side, Steve’s fingers carding through Danny’s hair to disrupt the remnants of the gel he’d put in it after showering. “I think you do,” Steve says, not arguing—just stating the facts as he sees them. “You can tell me when you’re ready.”

Noise from the conference room announces that Buck and Chin are back. 

“Let’s call it a night, Danno. Try and get some sleep?”

“Yeah….”

***

Of course, he doesn’t sleep well. He stubbornly insists on going home with Chin. Buck doesn’t protest the arrangement and asks Steve if they can leave so he can FaceTime Christopher which makes Steve give in without argument because Buck obviously needs the call. 

At about 0200, Danny relieves Chin, who’s been watching the security feed, and tells him to go to bed. 

At some point, Danny falls asleep on the couch, the laptop displaying the camera feed burned into his retinas. 

***

Danny's half asleep on his couch when a knock at his door startles him badly enough that he falls off the edge and meets the floor knee and nose first with a loud thump.

He's too busy feeling sorry for himself and nursing his nose to realize that what woke him was someone knocking on his front door—he has a doorbell—so when there's another knock, he freezes and listens.  

The faintest sound of a foot on the stairs tells him that Chin heard it too. In fact, when he turns to peek over the couch, he can see Chin with his gun drawn, flattened against the wall, and attempting to look out the window, but it's a bad angle, and Chin indicates he can't tell who it is. 

Chin and Danny make brief eye contact, and Chin nods, gesturing with his chin at the door. 

"Who's there?" Danny calls, shielded from the front door by the couch.  

"I am looking for Detective Daniel Williams," a woman's voice calls with a strong accent. "I was told to find him here."

Chin and Danny exchange another look, and Danny shrugs. He's got nothing as he doesn't recognize the woman's voice. "Who are you?" He calls again.

"My name is Raissa. Su Raissa. You are looking for my husband."

Chin's eyes widen, mouthing something at Danny along the lines of either 'You called her?' or 'How the hell did you find her?' So he shrugs back at Chin and waves away his gun. Stiffly, Danny gets to his feet, his knee bitterly complaining about how he's supposed to be nice to it since Steve never is. 

Limping to the front door, he briefly checks and sees a tall black woman with a kid that is maybe ten standing next to her, wearing a school uniform with a backpack held in his hands. Danny recognizes the uniform as being from St. Anthony's in Kailua. The kid has his eyes determinedly on the ground, a frown on his face that looks just like his father's. 

God help the boy. Hopefully, the resemblance is only in the looks department.

At least he doesn't have a mullet. 

Opening the door, Danny greets her. "It's a little early?"

Raissa is slender and moves like a ballet dancer, each movement graceful, and her full skirt moves slightly in the morning breeze. Her features are beautiful, and Danny thinks she could have made it big as a model if that was something she wanted. Big brown doe eyes are watchful and patient, hiding secrets behind a generous mouth outlined expertly with a minimalist approach to makeup that enhances rather than hides her beauty. "May we come inside, Detective Williams? It is as you said early."

"Sure," Danny opens the door wider to allow them to pass. Both mother and son slip off their shoes at the door and wait for him to show them to the kitchen. Chin has faded back up the stairs, and Danny can just make out his shadow at the top, listening in and ready to provide backup if needed. 

  Raissa instructs her son to sit at the small kitchen table, and she takes the seat that usually belongs to Steve. Danny attempts to be a good host and offers them a beverage of choice—the kid takes some passion fruit juice while Raissa accepts a cup of Kona with a splash of milk. 

Making his cup black, Danny leans against the counter, waiting to see what she wants. With the kid here as a security blanket, he's not sure she will tell him anything. It might take more than one talk to get anywhere, and he doesn't really have the patience or time for that now, but he'll hear her out this first time. 

"I heard you wished to speak with me?" She finally says after drinking half her cup.

"I'm looking for your husband," he corrects. "Don't suppose you'd know where he is?"

She inclines her head. "He is my ex-husband now," she says quietly. "To stay here in the United States, it was made clear to me that I must separate myself from my husband."

Danny's eyebrows climb. "Who said that?"

She sighs. "Seong-Min—please give me and the detective a few minutes? You can sit in the living room and put your headphones on."

"Yes, Mother," Seong-Min says and digs a pair of noise-canceling headphones out of his bag, then sits on Danny's couch, leaving them alone in the kitchen. 

"He knows what I am going to say, but I would prefer if he did not need to hear it over and over again. He's too young and loves his father," she apologizes, stiff posture relaxing slightly. "You are aware what your Steven McGarrett did for me and my son after my husband's arrest?"

"No. What did Steve do?" Danny crosses his arms over his chest, curious despite himself. 

Raissa licks her lips, betraying a bit of nerves. "Your Steven asked that I be given refugee status and then permanent residency and then a green card so I may work. The conditions were that I did not aid or abet my then-husband's business as it was illegal. If I so much as lifted a finger to help him, I would not be eligible and be deported."

"A carrot and a stick," Danny summarizes.

"Yes. At first, this sounds cruel—I owe my life to my husband, and I love him dearly. I know what you think of him," she hastens to add, "but he has never been anything but my champion and protector."

"That doesn't mean you had to divorce him," Danny points out.

She shakes her head, denying him. "It may not have listed it as a stipulation, but the lawyers were very clear about my choices. I was not legal and could easily be deported if I made one wrong move. A divorce would give me distance and the ability to truly claim I had not helped. My husband's business is not easy to be rid of."

"But his money?" Danny needles, noticing that her jewelry is of good quality, and he vaguely recognizes her dress as designer something or other from a shop in Waikiki. 

"My husband saw that me, as well as Seong-Min, will always be taken care of."

"So why work?"

Her lips quirked up just a bit before she smoothed away the smile that started to escape. "Purpose. I am not a woman to sit idle and be a piece of art for others to admire."

"So what do you do?"

"Pottery in the tradition of my first home in Africa. You no doubt have seen some of my pieces in some of the shops around Oahu under the name Malkia—it is what my husband often calls me."

"I'll take your word for it," Danny assures her blithely. He'll dig through her financials later to make sure she's legit, but his honed detective skills say that she's likely mainly telling the truth. 

"It is something that keeps me busy," she demurs. "I am able to do it because of Steven McGarrett's help which he did not have to give me."

"Steve told Sang Min that you and your son wouldn't be affected if he helped us out," Danny informs her, and she nods, indicating she is already aware of this. 

"Yet he did not have to do this much."

"I suppose not, but Steve's a grand gestures kind of guy."

"I have many times thought I should have thanked him before now."

"I can pass it along?"

"No. I… I came here because you are looking for Sang Min."

"We are. He's a person of interest in an open case."

"I… I do not speak with him regularly nor let him see Seong-Min often. He is still not clear from his last mistake, and the police stop by every so often asking for him," she looks at Danny pointedly. "You did not knock on my door or try to intimidate me like they do."

"Who's doing that?" He asks her, unsettled that she's being harassed by someone in HPD.

She shrugs it off. "You could have come and been rude like them, but instead, I heard it from a friend of a friend."

"And who would that be?" 

She does smile cryptically at him, her eyes crinkling around the corners to show a few laugh lines. "That is not important, and what is important is that they said you needed to find my husband, and I'm here to ask why."

"Why we're looking for him?"

"Yes."

"And you're doing this out of…what? Gratitude?"

"Yes and no. If my husband has gotten himself into trouble again, I think I learned the first time that helping you will lead to a better outcome than not. However, I wanted to know how much risk I am putting myself and Seong-Min in. My husband is not always good at judging risk."

Yeah, no shit, Danny thinks. Getting involved with Wo Fat was a recipe for ending up dead—Sang Min should have asked what happened to Gabriel Waincraft or Ian Wright before agreeing to work for the crazy asshole. Raissa looks and sounds legit, and she has her son to think of… which Danny gets.  

He's pretty sure Raissa knows he has kids and came to him instead of Steve because of this. She's more crafty than you'd think at first glance, but as Sang Min's former wife, she's probably had to learn to be. Hiding in plain sight is a skill. 

"The man we suspect your husband is working with is very dangerous."

"More so than any of his prior associates?"

"Yes."

Her mouth tightens as do her fingers around her coffee cup before she takes a drink to give herself a minute to collect herself. "Do you think we are at risk?"

"If your husband says or does the wrong thing? Yeah. I was trying to get a hold of your husband because this man—Wo Fat—kidnapped one of our own by almost beating her husband to death. He then had another member of our squad's best friend snatched in broad daylight in LA. Wo Fat's got reach, and he's mean."

Raissa doesn't hide her grimace or the pained look in her eyes. "And us running and hiding could also get my husband killed."

"It could." Danny guesses that her showing up here is possibly enough to do it too. "Did anyone see you on my front porch?"

"No. I had a friend drop us off, and I was going to request a ride to school for my son from you. We were only out there two minutes or so."

Danny's not sure that's quick enough, and him driving her or her kid anywhere also could get her marked as someone to look into. Toast owes him a few favors and knows how to spot a tail. "I'll call a friend to come pick you up."

"You don't have to—"

"I do. Whether or not you help me, I'm not letting you get hurt."

She's silent as he texts Toast. "You and your Steven McGarrett are made the same. Honorable."

Danny shrugs away the compliment. "So, are you going to help me?"

"I will pass along your message," she says quietly. "It is the least I can do. Can I ask that you treat my husband with leniency again?"

"It doesn't seem to do him much good," Danny points out. 

Another sigh. "You are right. But I ask all the same."

"Steve and I remember who helps us and who doesn't," he tells her.

"Then I will try to always be someone who helps you."

 

Hold on if you can

You’re gonna sink faster

Than you can imagine so hold

Hold on if you can

You’re gonna sink faster

Than you can imagine so hold

***

Eddie

 

His ears pop, pressure building almost painfully, and his hearing is muffled, but there is the distinct whine of an airplane engine to the noise that reminds him of flying in the belly of a cargo plane back and forth to Afghanistan. He’s lying face down on something metal and cold, the hood still over his head so he can’t see.  

Eddie’s mouth feels stuffed with cotton, and even without moving it, it feels like he’s being spun around in a washing machine on the heavy-duty spin cycle. Everything aches from not moving, and tight pressure around his hands and feet suggests he is still restrained. 

Whoever nabbed him is cautious. 

Which, smart of them, because when he gets loose….

Anger smolders in his veins, tightly leashed as he tries to assess his situation. There will be a time for him to act when his captors’ attention is just a little more lax and careless, and that’ll be the time for him to act. 

He’s not sure how much time passes, but he thinks the plane is descending, and the way the floor seems to jump out at him as they land makes his head bounce, and he sees stars again and still feels like he’s spinning. 

He barely manages not to vomit in the hood. 

The engines are spinning down—they’re on the ground, but where?

How long had he been out?

He loses more time. Whatever chemical residue leftover in the hood is not helping. 

Eddie doesn’t hear his captors approaching, but he fights like hell as they grab him under the armpits and drag him off the plane. He’s tossed onto another metal floor and tries to kick at the men holding him, but they leave him to flounder with the hood on, arms and legs cuffed. 

When the truck he’s in starts moving, he concentrates on trying to keep track of the turns. He thinks it’s going fast enough that they must be on a highway, but when the truck slows, the road gets rougher, and he thinks they’re going up.  

Over the noise of the truck, he can hear someone listening to a radio. The music isn’t stuff he recognizes, but it is in English. There are twangy guitars that sound funny, but it isn’t country. 

The road gets even rougher, and he’s jostled from side to side, banging into the side of the truck bed as there’s nothing for him to hold onto, but he tries to protect his head as best he can.  

Eddie gives up trying to keep track of turns as it feels like they’re going in circles. 

When it ends, he’s too exhausted and bruised to fight back when they pull him out. 

Humidity and heat smack him like another punch. His captors still don’t do him the favor of pulling the hood off, but there’s an opening and closing of heavy doors and boots on concrete that replace the hum of insects and birds. 

Another door opens, his feet are kicked out from underneath him, and he crashes to his knees. 

“Ahh ahh ah—back Spicy! You know the deal,” A male voice says in a sing-song taunt. “We brought you company, and I know you been complain’ about being bored.”

Whoever Spicy is, they don’t reply, and Eddie can feel something cylindrical and cold, like a gun nozzle pressed into the knob of his spine. A different male voice says, “Hold still, Fireman. You fight us, and we’ll paralyze you.”

Eddie holds still, and the cuffs are released from his feet and wrists. He shifts his weight just a bit and gets shoved into the concrete face first, but he manages to catch himself this time with his hands. Booted feet retreat, and a heavy door closes with a lock engaging with loud series of clicks. 

A small hand touches his shoulder. “Hey—I’m going to take the hood off.”

it’s a woman in here with him. 

The hood is plastered to the side of his face where his skin broke, and the blood and fabric formed a sort of glue. It hurts to have it pulled off, but the first gulp of air that isn’t tinged with whatever they’d used to knock him out is heavenly. It’s too bright, and he winces and closes his eyes before giving it a few blinks for his eyes to adjust. 

The woman here with him is Asian, a little rough around the edges, suggesting she’s been here a while, and her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, but her gaze is sharp and intelligent. She has some old bruises around her jawline that suggest she didn’t come here willingly. 

What had the man called her? Spicy?

Eddie’d be lying if he didn’t think she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met—but that might also be the head injury and the fact that she was calmly holding a bit of her own shirt against his face to stop the bleeding that had restarted when she’d pulled the hood off. 

“Where am I?” Eddie croaks out as he takes in his cell and cellmate. They’re in a cement room that at one point was whitewashed, but now the paint is peeling in spots and has mold creating interesting artwork in others, lit by a sole light bulb and a pair of windows high up with bars on them but no glass—not that it matters as even Christopher couldn’t slip through they’re so tiny. A pair of cement benches have thin blankets on them, and a bucket in the corner must function as the commode. A small supply of water bottles sits on one of the cement beds, which must belong to Spicy. 

Eddie has no clue where they are. 

Spicy’s lips thin, and the corners turn into a frown as she peers at his face. “Somewhere near the North Shore.”

“North Shore?”

She pauses to look him in the eye. “You’re in Hawai’i.”

Eddie lets out a long exhale. “I suppose that answers the question of why I’m here.”

“Who are you?” She asks before he can explain. 

“Eddie Diaz.”

“You’re Buck’s Eddie?” 

“Um… Yeah. I’m Buck’s Eddie.” He can feel the heat of the blush creeping up his neck. How she’d said he belonged to Buck shouldn’t make his stomach flutter like this. 

They’re interrupted by the heavy metal door swinging partially open, and a bag of frozen fruit is tossed inside, along with a few gatorades. An Asian man with an impressively bad haircut sticks his head around the door. 

“For your head, Fireman! You can eat it when it’s not cold anymore.”

Spicy shrugs off her over-shirt that she’d been using to hold pressure, indicating for Eddie to take over. She picks up the mixed fruit bag and glares at the other man, but she doesn’t lunge at him, suggesting this isn’t the first time she’s played this game. The man hasn’t shut the door yet, and he seems to be enjoying the view of Spicy in the thin camisole tank top and shorts. 

Eddie is offended on Spicy’s behalf. The other man is a dog, and Eddie’d break his face if he had the energy to move and didn’t feel like one giant bruise. 

“Maybe you two can play doctor together?” The man says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Spicy whips one of the gatorades at him, and the man barely manages to dodge, saved by the door, which he uses as a shield, making a loud clang. 

“Ah ah ah, Spicy!” The man wags a finger at her. “Those are for your patient.”

Spicy glares at their captor as if she can light him on fire with the power of it and practically spits as she snarls at the man. “I’m not a doctor, and he needs a hospital, you asshole.”

“I know you’re not, Spicy, but you’re what he’s got. So do your best.”

Spicy keeps glaring at the man, who takes it as his cue to leave them alone. Spicy listens as the lock reengages, then picks up the frozen fruit and a gatorade, twisting off the cap and handing it to Eddie. “Drink,” she orders.

Eddie takes a sip and then another. The gatorade isn’t cold, but he doesn’t care—he’d drink it hot, he’s so thirsty, but he’s worried his stomach is on the verge of revolt, so he takes it slow. Spicy gently takes her shirt back from him to wrap it around the frozen fruit and then reapplies it, letting him drink in peace.  

“So, is your name really Spicy?” Eddie asks between sips.

A horrified look crosses her expressive face. “No! Uh… I’m Kono.”

“Princess Kono?”  

She rolls her eyes and makes a noise of disgust that’s both serious and joking at the same time. “I’m going to kill Steve for telling Buck that.”

“My kid got a kick out of him telling us about how he met royalty.”

“I’ve seen pictures. Your son’s adorable.”

“He is,” Eddie agrees, trying not to think too hard about how Christopher is probably scared with him gone. He knows he has family that can take care of Christopher if he isn’t there, and dwelling on it now isn’t going to fix anything. “I can hold the uh… fruit.”

Kono lets him take over, and she sits across from him, hands on her knees. She looks tired now that she’s not busy being fierce, letting her head droop a little and rubbing her face to hide a yawn. 

It occurs to Eddie she probably doesn’t know if her husband is alive, but he knows a bit from Buck. “Your husband? Adam? He’s alive.”

Kono’s expression brightens with relief, and the remainder of the tension in her body vanishes. “Adam? He’s alive? They haven’t told me anything!”

“I don’t know much, but I know he’s awake and talking. He told McGarrett that a man named Wo Fat had you.” Eddie frowns, thinking back to the Asian man who’d brought the food and gatorade. “Was that Wo Fat?”

Kono scoffs in disgust. “No. That’s Sang Min.”

“You two have a history? He seems to know you.”

“He was involved in my first case—before I graduated from the Academy since they need an unknown. He used to smuggle guns and people, so I went in undercover. He’s always been an ass.”

“You keep running into him?”

“Every few years, he seems to need to show up. You’d think he’d learn?”

Eddie snorts. From what Buck’s told him about Kono, she’s a capable police officer and member of 5-0. Buck even said she wasn’t a half-bad shot, which Eddie had read into when Buck mentioned a shooting competition. 

“So…? What’s the deal here?”

Kono shrugs. “They took pictures of me with a newspaper two days ago. I’ve been getting food and water semi-regularly. I haven’t laid eyes on Wo Fat—just Sang Min and a few others whose names I don’t know.”

“So are we leverage or bait?”

“Or both?” Kono muses, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow. 

“Buck’s gotta be going out of his mind,” Eddie admits. He knows Buck will blame himself instead of Wo Fat, and Eddie hates that. “Do you think since they have me that they’ll leave the rest of my family alone?”

“I don’t know. Probably?” Kono frowns in thought. “I don’t know their endgame, and I don’t think Steve knows either. Wo Fat’s had this thing out for him for ages.”

“Wo Fat’s come after you before?”

“It’s not about me,” Kono clarifies. “It’s about Steve. Steve’s mom was a CIA agent, and she... She had something going on with Wo Fat’s father and helped raise Wo Fat for a few years.”

“That’s… messed up,” Eddie says, unsure what else to say. “So this is about Steve’s mom?”

“Yeah. Doris. She’s a piece of work and faked her death when Steve was sixteen.”

“She did what?” Eddie is incredulous. McGarrett’s mother had faked her death and was a CIA agent?

“It really messed Steve and his family up. His dad, John McGarrett, sent him to the mainland to protect Steve because he thought it was related to a case of his since he was HPD.”

“What?”

Kono gives him a knowing look. “Yeah. Steve’s family is lōlō—crazy—even his sister Mary, but she’s been doing better the last few years since she adopted Joanie.”

“And Wo Fat… has something going on with McGarrett’s mom?”

“Mommy issues,” Kono rolls her eyes and grimaces in disgust. “I think he’s jealous.”

“Of what? That Steve’s mom faked her death?”

“She was around,” Kono waves her hand. “I don’t know, and I don’t think Steve knows, and he knows much more about everything.”

“So….?”

“I think Wo Fat’s hoping he can take the team away from Steve.”

“And grabbing you and me will do that?”

“Chin Ho Kelly is my cuz. Buck’s your… what are you exactly?” She prods with a sly grin.

“Best friend,” Eddie hastily tells her. “Well, and he’s family.”

“‘Ohana,” Kono says knowingly. 

“Familia,” Eddie shoots back in Spanish to lighten the mood, relaxing as he thinks Kono understands what he’s not saying. 

“Family, Familia, ‘Ohana. All the same thing. Family is family.”

“Wo Fat’s trying to break up Steve’s family,” Eddie muses, trying to make sense of everything he’s just learned.

“Yeah—that makes sense to me,” Kono agrees. “Joke’s on Wo Fat, though. He’s just made Steve and Chin angry by taking me, and now he’s done the same with Buck.”

“They’re going to tear the island apart to find us, aren’t they?”

“Yep. How’s the head?”

The fruit isn’t really frozen anymore, so Eddie pulls it away from his face. Kono stands up and carefully pokes at his face, handing him another one of the gatorades as he’s finished the first one. “Ow,” he jokes, which gets him a small smile. “What do you think, doc? Will I live?”

“Yeah, you’ll live,” She tells him. 

“Want some fruit?”

Kono laughs and happily helps him rip the bag open. They trade ridiculous stories about McGarrett and Buck as they eat. 

Eddie knows Buck’s coming for him, and Christopher is safe in LA. All he has to do is wait for Buck, and his current companion is pleasant to be around. 

 

It’s just time to swim ashore

If I drift long enough

I’ll be home

Song: Drink the Water by Jack Johnson

Chapter 11: Proof of Life

Summary:

5-0 finally catches a lead that might or might not help right before proof of life is delivered to headquarters. Later, Danny’s earlier gambit starts to pay off.

Notes:

Warnings this chapter for disturbing imagery (proof of life video). Also… there might be another kinda cliffhanger because it was the right place to make a chapter break (sorry).

Also, there is swearing because everyone is stressed and niceties are breaking down.

I know I’ve seen your face somewhere

Selling something, some big ideas

I know I’ve seen that vacant stare

Selling sunsets for somebody else

You find yourself asking yourself

What is any of it worth

You find yourself looking up at night

From the bottom of the earth

Steve

It’s been days, and they don’t have any further leads. 

Steve knows his frustration is showing, but he’s doing everything to reign it in and not pile more on his teammates. 

Buck has shut down completely unless it’s the FaceTime calls he takes from Diaz’s kid twice a day when he does his best to act normal. The kid is doing okay, but his repetitive requests for his dad and for Buck to come home are tearing Buck apart with the desire to be in two places simultaneously. 

None of them are doing great. They’re all strung out, and Danny had threatened him five minutes ago to put Steve in a time-out when he’d called Hondo for the third time in two hours to ask if there were any more leads from LA. 

They still haven’t gotten so much as a whisper about Diaz being in Hawaii, but Steve can feel it in his bones that Diaz is here and not on the Mainland. 

He does send Hondo an apology text that gets him a rude emoji in response. They’re both frustrated, and Hondo has also been trying to manage Deacon, who’s appointed himself Christopher Diaz’s bodyguard, which has Hondo flailing as his right-hand man and partner isn’t available. 

Steve resumes going through his contacts and checking in with every snitch and informant he knows for the second time today. 

He’s pretty sure all of Oahu knows he’s looking for information and is willing to pay a lot for results. Steve even called in a few expensive favors with the Navy and has feelers out for any hint of Diaz’s or Kono’s location.  

Steve’s been putting off calling his mom, but he might have to. She will either help him or hurt his investigation, and he’s afraid of which one it will be. 

Wo Fat’s obsession with him is her fault. It’s her fault that Kono and Diaz have been taken. She’s the one who got Wo Fat out of the hole Steve had dropped him in to rot. 

Doris McGarrett is on Steve’s shit list, and he’s afraid of what he might say if she actually picked up the phone when he called for once. 

Joe is also on his shit list. Steve’s voicemail is full of offers of help from his old commander, but he hasn’t responded or even listened to the last three messages. Steve knows he can’t ignore Joe forever, but right now, he doesn’t trust himself not to unload his frustrations on the retired seal. 

‘He should have fucking known better,’ is the refrain that echoes in Steve’s thoughts and it spurs him on. He underestimated his enemy, and he won’t again. 

Steve arranged for protective details through Hondo for Buck’s and Diaz’s extended close family. Buck’s close associates from his firehouse all have shadows, as does the LA Diaz clan and Buck’s sister. 

Buck is ignoring everyone’s calls (except for Isabel Diaz after she’d cussed Steve out in Spanish caustic enough to strip paint), and Steve has been running interference with the help of Athena Grant-Nash. 

Athena is a ball-buster, and Steve is impressed by the police sergeant. If she weren’t so tied to LA and already married, he’d be tempted to propose marriage and offer her a job with 5-0. He suspects that part of the reason she’s being so fierce is that Diaz was nabbed right after leaving her house. A neighbor’s doorbell cam had revealed that Diaz’s gas line had been cut while his truck sat in front of her house. She hadn’t allowed herself the excuse of being concerned for her husband after his chat with Diaz, as she’d been alerted that there was the possibility of threats against Diaz due to his close ties to Buck. 

Hondo had been complaining about the standoff he’d inadvertently gotten in the middle of when Deacon and Athena had squared off about who was responsible for watching Christopher Diaz. Hondo had implied that the D-Day invasion of Normandy was less dangerous than getting in between those two when it came to Diaz’s kid. 

Buck’s captain, Bobby Nash, had not taken Diaz being kidnapped well. That was the only reason Athena had given in to Deacon (eventually). Steve had agreed to take Nash’s phone call in an hour or so, but he’d warned Athena it would be the only time as he had an island to take apart to find Diaz and Kono. 

The with his bare hands, if necessary, was implied. 

A light knock on the door announces Danny’s entrance into his office with coffee in both hands. “You doing okay, Babe?”

Steve takes the coffee Danny offers him. “No.”

Danny hums as he sits on the corner of Steve’s desk, neatly crossing his legs at the knee. His partner is rumpled-looking, shirt sleeves pushed back to show lean forearms that grip the edge of Steve’s desk. The blonde locks have escaped containment as Danny hasn’t reapplied his usual hair gel and tends to run his hands through his hair when he’s stressed on phone calls. 

Steve wants to bury his hand in it and rub away the headache he can tell Danny’s fighting, but he hesitates, uncertain if Danny will accept his comfort. When the cases get tough, both of them start avoiding physical intimacy from the other, even as Steve constantly aches for it and assumes Danny does too. 

He avoids it because he doesn’t want to slip up and reveal how much Danny means to him. Buck had accused him of not going for what he wanted with Freddie—and he wasn’t wrong about that. Their situation had been different, and there had been Kelly.  

Or maybe it wasn’t so different. 

Danny and Rachel are currently on the ‘permanent outs’, but Steve’s seen them reconcile before. Rachel’s marriage to Stan seems solid now, but any rocking of the boat and she tends to run to Danny to fix it. Danny then does whatever is necessary to make Rachel happy, usually requiring him to tear apart his very being and break every rule. Rachel gets what she wants, remembers Stan has all the money, and she returns to him, leaving Danny holding the bag. 

Steve might have some unresolved anger toward Rachel that he does his best to keep harnessed. She’s still Grace and Charlie’s mom and Danny’s ex. Because of them, Steve hasn’t started a campaign to make Rachel’s life as uncomfortable as possible. He is, however, always ready to step in if she makes noise about rearranging Danny’s custody agreement again.  

“Babe?”  

Steve’s tired enough that his thoughts wandering have him zoning a bit. “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

“Ah. Thinking about what?”

Steve’s not admitting his thoughts on Danny’s ex-wife under torture. “I have that call with Nash in about… ten minutes. “

He hadn’t realized what time it was. 

Danny grimaces.  “Buck took a radio and left his phone to do the run to HPD.  The thing is constantly going off with texts and phone calls.”

“He’s got a lot of people in California worried about him.”

“Yeah, well, they need to back off,” Danny observes. “It’s not doing him good right now to see those messages. I thought he was going to break his phone he was gripping it so hard.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Later, he’ll be glad they were worried.” Steve knows that after Danny came to get him in North Korea, he was pretty messed up, and part of it had been that he wasn’t expecting Danny to care enough to come get him. For years, the only people he could rely on were his fellow seals and other service members. The idea of having a family that was invested in you had changed how many risks Steve took. 

Steve had Danny needing him to get home, and with Danny had come Chin and Kono, Grace and Charlie, and then their extended ‘Ohana. Civilians that expected him not to come home full of holes or in a box. People who would mourn him. 

His dad sending him away had broken part of him that hadn’t started mending until Danny came into his life and punched him in the face for being an asshole. 

Danny’s comments over the years of him having mommy and daddy issues probably weren’t too far off the mark—even if Steve would never admit it.

“So what are you going to tell Nash?”

“Buck said ‘whatever’ when I asked his opinion,” Steve admits. “But I don’t think he needs to know more than enough to impress him to cooperate with protection and convince the rest of his team to do the same.”

“Yeah,” Danny rubs his forehead, a sure sign of a headache, and Steve’s fingers itch to replace them. “I overheard Buck’s call from his sister before he told her he’d call her when he had an update. She was haranguing him pretty good to get his ass back to LA. She doesn’t know about his time in the Navy, does she?”

“Buck never wanted her to worry. I was listed as his NOK, with Freddie as backup, and Kelly knew what to do if something happened to all of us. He used to send her postcards from the places we got stationed, though, and a few from South America.”

“He sent her postcards while he was on missions?” Danny asks incredulously. 

Steve shrugs. “From tourist destinations. We had to fly through civilian airports on occasion.”

“I don’t even want to know,” Danny mutters something derogatory about interfering in foreign government affairs under his breath. “So. Nash.”

“Nash,” Steve agrees. 

“He’s going to be upset. I get the impression he views Buck as one of his.”

“Buck was mine first,” Steve asserts immediately. Nash can think of Buck as his family all he wants, but he was part of Steve’s first. 

“Yeah, yeah, you Neanderthal. So what are you going to tell him.”

“Just enough. The rest can come from Buck when he’s ready, but not before.”

“Good luck with that.” 

Steve’s phone rings with an LA area code as if he knows they’re talking about him. “Speaking of which…. McGarrett.” 

Danny makes to leave, but Steve snags his shirt before he can move. He might need Danny. 

“This is Captain Bobby Nash of the 118. I was told you had more information on my people,” Bobby’s voice is cold and sharp as it echoes through the phone. 

“I do.”

“Then start talking,” Bobby barks, and it immediately sets Steve’s teeth on edge, but he’s been in Nash’s position before 

“What do you know?” Steve asks instead of immediately spouting off information.  

Nash pauses, and Steve can hear the deep inhale as the man attempts to keep civil. “Two of my firefighters—two of my team are in trouble. One you came looking for and then got sent somewhere nobody wants to tell me about, and the other got grabbed off the street and taken.”

“That’s correct.”

Nash is silent, but Steve waits him out. “And?”

“And what?”

“Where is Buck?” Nash growls.

“He’s here with me, working with me,” Steve adds. Nash doesn’t need to know that Buck is rattling around HPD like a broken toy.

“And you’re the head of a police task force? What does Buck have to do with that?”

“Buck and I go way back,” Steve says, acknowledging the connection but giving no context.

“He’s a firefighter, not a police officer.”

“Correct. I’m using him for prior skill sets.”  

Danny, listening in, covers his face. “Steven,” he hisses. 

“What kind of prior skill sets? Construction? Bartending?”

“While Buck does make a mean cocktail, that’s not what I’m referring to.” Danny’s horrified stare makes Steve want to twitch, but he’s not happy to be talking to Nash and has zero incentive to be nice. 

“What skills?” Nash presses. 

“Tell me, Captain Nash, when you read Buck’s resume, did you notice his qualifications?”

“Yeah. He’s got a bunch of them. Which in particular would be of use to a special task force?”

“If you’ve looked over Buck’s certifications, you’ll notice that many of them are equivalents that he was allowed to test out of.”

“And?”

“Most people who test out of those certifications have military backgrounds.”

There is a pause. “Buck washed out of the seals. He always says he didn’t want to be a machine and turn off his empathy.”

“Yes.”

“Are you telling me he didn’t wash out?”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m saying that Buck had a prior existing skill set that allowed him to test out. You can make whatever assumption you want about that.”

“You’re implying Buck has other skills.”

“He has many, but yes. Thank you for taking on the task of teaching him to cook.”

“You’re not keeping him,” Nash insists, voice pained. “He’s got a family here.”

“And he has one here too.”

Nash doesn’t reply for almost a minute. “You’re keeping an eye on him? Keeping him out of trouble?”

“As much as possible,” Steve assures him. “Buck is family.”

“Okay—and how does that tie in with Eddie being taken and all of us having police escorts?”

“Buck is working with me, and the case has gotten nasty and personal. We anticipated there would be trouble here but thought the likelihood of it spreading to LA was low. Your wife was alerted to the possibility as soon as we started to have a low level of suspicion.”

“Well, evidently, that wasn’t enough.”

“Captain Nash, I would suggest not taking this out on your wife. You were included in the people being watched, and she was watching you.” Steve was going to throw Sergeant Grant a bone. Nash was being irrational. 

“So, who was watching Eddie? Everyone knows that he and Buck are partners.”

“LAPD.”

“Well, they messed up. Who is in charge?”

“I know that Sergeant Harrelson has been in contact with you because of the coverage needs, Captain Nash. There was a twenty-minute window that was taken advantage of, and I’m doing everything in my power to get Diaz back in one piece.”

“Have you gotten a ransom demand?”

“Ransom isn’t what this person is after.”

“What are they after?”

“You said that everyone knows that Buck and Eddie are partners.”

“They took Eddie to get to Buck?”

“Yes.” There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Wo Fat’s motivation is to distract Buck or use it as leverage. “Diaz isn’t the only one who’s been taken.”

“Who else?”

“One of my people’s husbands was attacked, and then she was taken.”

Nash pauses. “Is he alright?”

“He will be. Mostly, he’s worried about his wife. He’s a good man; this isn’t their first time.”

“Have you heard anything about Eddie or your team member?”

“We’ve had proof of life delivered on my team member. I’m waiting to have the same on Diaz.”

“How long until you had that the first time?”

“Two or three days. We’ll probably get it on Diaz today or tomorrow.”

“What are you doing to get this guy?”

“I can’t tell you more about an active investigation.”

“Bullshit.”

Sighing, Steve notices that Danny is glaring at him for baiting Nash. It’s a reminder that Nash is important to Buck, and he should be playing nicer than he is, even if he blames the man for a lot of Buck’s emotional wreckage in the last few months. 

Nash isn’t his mother or father—he should stop treating him like Steve wishes he had the guts to treat his mom. 

“Captain—if you want to help, what I need you to do is sit tight and comply with LAPD and your wife. I can’t do my job finding Diaz if I’m too tied up fielding phone calls. Same with the rest of your people and Buck. I need him at his best, and we can’t afford distractions or more people at risk.”

“I’m not—“

“You are. If something were to happen to you, it would be emotionally compromising to Buck, and you know it because it goes both ways,” Steve says bluntly. “I need you to hunker down and take care of your people there in LA. I need that off my list of worries. Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” Nash says finally. “Can you… Can you ask Buck to call me when it’s appropriate? When it won’t hurt to talk?”

“I can’t guarantee it won’t ever hurt to talk—you both have things to say to each other that might be best in person, but I will pass along the request.”

“Thank you. I’ll try… I’ll get Maddie to stop harassing him. Chim said she was beside herself with worry.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“Watch over him? And please bring Eddie home.”

“I’ll always have Buck’s six,” Steve assures Nash.  

“Thank you.”

“None needed. I’ll be in contact when I have something for you that I can share.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

“Have a good day, Captain.”

Nash repeats the meaningless platitude and hangs up.

“You are a schmuck,” Danny tells him. “A pain-in-the-ass schmuck. What was that?”

“He needed to have a reality check, and I gave him one,” Steve defends himself. 

“Is that what that was? I thought it was you lording it over him. You did not make that man feel better, Steve. Buck’s like his kid.”

The slight guilt Steve’s been feeling is growing. “Yeah, but next time he pulls the crap he did on Buck, he’ll think twice about it.”

“Will he? Besides, it’s Buck’s relationship, and he needs to work it out with his Captain—not you playing overprotective big brother.”

“I thought he was my nephew in these analogies.”

Rolling his eyes, Danny hops off the desk. “I’m going back to work.”

Steve wants to stop him but knows he shouldn’t. He should get back to work, too. 

***

An hour later, Hondo calls him back. “You got something?”

“Yeah. I got a hit on those vans.”

Steve’s feet hit the ground as he sat upright in his desk chair. “And?”

“Diaz’s not here anymore. The vans were found outside a hanger in Ontario.”

“Canada?”

“No, the airport. It’s in San Bernardino.”

“Still a ways out.”

“My guess is they used a freight flight. Ontario does a lot of that. We’re narrowing down crews that operated out of that hanger in the last couple of days. Should have more for you in a few hours, but thought you’d want to know.”

“Any flights headed for here?”

“A few.”

“Prioritize those?”

“Already done. Got my guys on it instead of farming it out.”

“Thanks.”

Steve goes to hang up but hears Hondo call his name. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That Diaz got nabbed on my watch.”

“We’re going to get him back, Dan.”

“You haven’t called me that since that thing in Egypt, and I maintain that you and Kid surfing down those dunes was a bad idea.”

Steve laughs. “It was expedient.”

“I got goddamn friction burns, and that snake got too damn close!”

“The sand did get everywhere,” Steve agrees before sobering. “It could have happened to any of us—but the important thing is we will get Diaz back.”

“We better, or Deac’s never going to get over this.”

“We’ll get him back,” Steve repeats like a mantra. If he believes it, he can make it happen.  

“From your lips to god’s ears,” Hondo says before sighing. “I’m going to get back to work, but I’ll send you the flight numbers as soon as I have them.”

“Thanks, Hondo.”

They end the call without saying goodbye. Hondo’s voice is still full of guilt, but Steve hopes he’ll get over it. Diaz was supposed to be safe on the mainland. They’d all thought that. 

***

Half an hour later, Steve’s got a list of flights, and Chin is cross-referencing all of them as Steve watches. “Most of these flights landed at HNL, but three flights didn’t. Two landed at Kapolei and one at Kaneohe.”

“Kaneohe’s a military airfield,” Steve observes. “Hard to smuggle Diaz out under a bunch of marine’s noses.”

“I think it’s less likely, and the timing isn’t right. Too narrow of a window,” Chin agrees. 

“So we’re looking at Kapolei. It’s a reliever airport for HNL. Was either flight diverted there?”

“No.”

“The Coast Guard launches from there. I’ll call and see if anyone saw anything.”

“Already sent the request,” Chin assures Steve, his shoulders hunched. “I think this is how they got him here.”

“So we have a starting point,” Buck interrupts. He’s been lurking around the offices but hasn’t talked much besides phone calls. 

“We have a starting point,” Steve repeats, itching to run this lead into the ground. “Grab your gun and badge, Evan. Time to make a few visits.”

 

No, can this world not afford to sleep anymore?

No, did you sheep start jumping?

They grow out their teeth

Did they need a little something more than this?

***

Eddie

Being held captive is less exciting than one might imagine. It’s mostly a lot of sitting around with not much to do. Eddie’s never been one for idleness—he’s constantly filling his days with tasks either for himself to complete or things that he thinks Christopher will enjoy. There’s never enough time to laze around and do nothing. 

Kono is a godsend. If she wasn’t here with him, he’s pretty sure he’d drive himself mad worrying about Christopher and Buck.  

“They need you like they need me,” Kono assures him. “There’s no point in going after your kid or anyone else.”

“What about Detective William’s kids?” Eddie asks. 

Kono shudders, pale under her tan, and her teeth snap with each word she spits out. “They better fucking not.”

Eddie agrees. It’s bad enough that Kono and he are here. If they bring a kid in, that would be so much worse. Their little jail cell worries him about catching tetanus or something more tropical and deadly. It’s not cooled, and the airflow through the tiny window is insufficient. He’s a Texas boy, born and bred, but he’s sweating buckets in the tropical Hawaiian heat. 

Kono’s pretty sure they’re on Oahu—the island Honolulu is on—as she wasn’t flown anywhere, nor was she on a boat. Eddie assumes she knows what she’s talking about as he’s only ever been to California and Afghanistan unless you count airports and driving between LA and El Paso. Christopher had insisted they stop at the Grand Canyon to see how big it was on that trip.  

In the three days he’s been here (counting nights where he’s been half-eaten by mosquitos), none of the jailers have spent much time checking on them. They get two deliveries a day of bottled drinks and usually something prepackaged to eat, like sandwiches. 

The bucket is starting to smell—it hasn’t been emptied. 

Their regularly scheduled boredom is interrupted by the door being wrenched open just enough for a smoke grenade to be tossed in. Eddie attempts to dive for it with the intent of throwing it out the window, but there are three men on him before he can do more than try to hack up a lung. 

Kono had mentioned this was how they’d gotten her for her proof of life photo shoot. Looks like it’s his turn. 

Eddie doesn’t make it easy on them. He struggles and throws a few punches and kicks until, by sheer weight, he’s unable to move. He’s got a guy sitting on his legs and another two on each arm. They’re not gentle when they haul him upright. 

The cold gun barrel against his neck has him cooperating as he’s put in a pair of handcuffs and hauled out of his prison cell. 

“You better come back in one piece, Edmundo!” Kono calls after him, knowing perfectly well that he’s only called Edmundo by his abuela when he’s in trouble. 

The guy on his right arm yanks him forward, and Eddie bites his tongue so he won’t yelp. They take him down the damp and dark hallway that belongs in a horror film, as half the lights don’t appear to be working. Multiple doors come off the hallway, similarly heavy to the one to his cell. They’re all closed, so he has no idea what’s behind them. 

At the end of the hallway is a larger area that is more like a warehouse but open to the outside. After several days in a dark cell, the amount of sunlight is painful, and Eddie blinks rapidly in an attempt to adjust. 

“Well, well, well,” an accented voice drawls, and there’s a painfully tight grip on his chin, and he turns it left and right. An Asian man he hasn’t seen before is the one inspecting him like a racehorse. Eddie pegs him as maybe in his forties, but it’s hard to tell—a few lines around the eyes and mouth, but the scarring on the left hand clues him in. 

“Wo Fat,” Eddie names him, which pleases the man, and a large toothy grin appears on his face. 

Laughing, Wo Fat releases Eddie’s chin and gestures to a metal chair bolted to the cement. 

Eddie is put in the chair, forcibly. His feet are duct taped to the legs, and his wrists are cuffed to the bottom rungs. He fitfully yanks to test his restraints to be contrary and show he’s not cowed. 

The metal doesn’t give, and the cuffs cut into his skin. 

“Don’t do that,” Wo Fat chides him, approaching with a packet of wet wipes. “We wouldn’t want you to be any more damaged than you already are.”

“That implies you don’t want damaged goods,” Eddie spits out from behind gritted teeth. His instincts urge him not to bait the man before him and play it cool. This man is responsible for making Buck and Christopher worry about him, and he’s more than dangerous. 

He makes Eddie’s hackles rise. There is something wrong about that smile that speaks of madness. 

“Hold still,” Wo Fat instructs before he starts to wipe down Eddie’s face. “You really are quite pretty underneath all this dirt.”

The compliment makes Eddie’s skin crawl. Buck hadn’t mentioned if Wo Fat had any sort of leaning toward men or if Eddie was just special that way. Rather than give the man the pleasure of a response, Eddie bites his tongue. 

“Cat got your tongue? Surely you have some questions,” Wo Fat coaxes, his touch gentle around the scabs on the side of Eddie’s head. “Hm?”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you other than I’m Edmundo Ramon Diaz, Heavy Rescue Specialist out of the 118 Los Angeles Fire Department.”

“Did you just give me name, rank, and no service number? I’m not interrogating you, Mr. Diaz.”

Eddie glares at him. His training in the Army covered the code of conduct expected for hostile interrogations. Name, rank, and identification number. His station number will have to do because he has no idea what his actual employee number is, and he’s not here as a soldier, even if Wo Fat meets the definition of a terrorist.

“Nothing to say? Now is your chance.” The smile is still frozen on Wo Fat’s face, but his eyes glitter with malice. Eddie knows he’s insane and can practically smell it. 

“Well, if you won’t ask, I suppose you won’t mind me explaining a bit from my perspective?” Wo Fat doesn’t wait for Eddie to respond and keeps talking. “You see, Steve and I are brothers, and like brothers, we often disagree with each other. Do you have siblings, Mr. Diaz?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He’s not giving the bastard anything, so he purposefully looks straight through Wo Fat like he’s not even there. Unfortunately, he can’t stop listening as the man continues.

“I know you do. I did a lot of research on Steve’s not-so-new teammate. At first, I debated taking him, but Ms. Kalakaua’s husband gave me an opportunity, so I took it. An opening salvo or invitation to play, if you will. My brother and I have been playing these games for years.”

Eddie’s face is set in stone. He won’t give the loco bastard any encouragement in his villain monologue. 

“You, however, are much more valuable. Why, you might ask?”

Eddie doesn’t ask. He gets told anyway—he’s getting the impression that Wo Fat wants to brag. 

“Evan Buckley is important to my brother. He dropped everything to go to his side, which is remarkable. I thought everyone my brother called family was already here, and then this new one showed up. I missed their attachment as they kept it low-key.”

He’s not the only one who hadn’t known about Buck’s ties to Steve, which irritates Eddie that he has anything in common with this asshole. 

“Their attachment is strong, perhaps even stronger than the bond my brother has with our sister or the rest of his people,” Wo Fat says as if he’s just making an idle observation, and it’s chilling. The man is wholly gone round the bend. If Eddie could, he’d warn McGarrett to have his sister under protection. “Well, I can’t have that, can I?”

“Can’t have what?” Eddie asks despite himself.

“Evan Buckley is a threat to mine and Steven’s brotherly bond. If he won’t leave my brother because of you, I’ll have to remove him permanently,” Wo Fat informs him smugly as if he’s not talking about murdering Buck. 

The threat to Buck breaks Eddie’s restraint, and he attempts to lunge at the insane man. The steel chair groans under the force, hardly moving as he snarls and tries to break loose. Eddie’s efforts are futile, but he doesn’t give up, which makes Wo Fat laugh again. 

“Oh, you are spirited. I see why Evan adores you. You are not lovers, are you? Evan is so like my brother, pining after another man.”

“You’ll leave Buck alone,” Eddie snarls, no longer caring that he’s giving Wo Fat the reaction that he wants in the face of a threat to Buck. “Don’t you dare touch him!”

“So spirited. I had wondered if you returned Evan’s feelings. Does he know?”

“If you touch a hair on his head, I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” Wo Fat arches one eyebrow, unimpressed with Eddie’s struggles. “I have all the power here. You’re just a pawn on my chessboard.”

Eddie revises his opinion. Wo Fat is a crazy, malicious bastard, and he will resist however he can. If he’s just a pawn, it means he’s expendable. 

Wo Fat steps away toward a video camera that’s on a tripod. Eddie hadn’t noticed it until now because he was so focused on the dangerous snake. Touching a few buttons, A red light begins blinking, indicating filming has begun.  

Casually picking up a newspaper, Wo Fat returns to Eddie and grabs him by the hair on the top of his head, wrenching his head forward to look directly into the camera. The newspaper is slapped against Eddie’s chest to display the date, “Say hello to your Evan, Edmundo.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie spits out, glaring as best he can at Wo Fat. 

“Tsk tsk. Is that the sort of behavior you model for your son?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie repeats. 

Ignoring Eddie’s profanity, Wo Fat turns to face the camera. “Hello, Steven, and I’m assuming Evan. As you can see, I have something of yours. I’ll be in touch.”

It occurs to Eddie that this is his chance to give a warning. “McGarrett—he’s going after your sister—fuck!”

He cannot defend himself from the smack to the side of his head that makes his ears ring and stars burst in his vision. The headache he’s been nursing returns with a vengeance. 

“Now, why did you do that? You ruined our take,” Wo Fat chides him as he pulls Eddie’s head back by his hair. “We’ll have to redo it now.”

The next take is done with Eddie’s mouth taped shut with an extra piece of duct tape. Wo Fat repeats his message word for word, suggesting he’s been planning this and relishing it, which makes Eddie’s stomach want to revolt. He makes sure that his feelings on being held captive are clear, and if it were possible, Wo Fat would be dead from the daggers Eddie is glaring at him. 

When Wo Fat is satisfied after another three takes, he pets Eddie’s hair to make it lay flat instead of ruffled from where he’s been fisting it. “Thank you, Edmundo.”

Mentally, Eddie is saying ‘Fuck you’ back. 

Instead of being manhandled back to his cell, a familiar black cloth bag is put over his head. The overwhelming stink of chemicals burns his nose as he passes out. 

***

He comes back to with someone running fingers through his hair—gentle this time. Opening his eyes, he notices he’s back in their cell, his head cushioned in Kono’s lap, and it’s after nightfall, so their cage is dimly lit by moonlight.  

“You with me?”

“Yeah,” he winces as he rolls off her, stomach queasy. Whatever they were using to knock him out, he hated the nausea and hangover feeling. 

“They take you for photos?” Kono asks worriedly. “You’ve got more bruising on your face.”

“He smacked me pretty good when I got too mouthy,” Eddie admits, letting his head hang over his knees. Kono doesn’t deserve to be vomited on, and he’s not sure he can keep it in. 

“I think you have a concussion.”

“I think you’re right,” Eddie confirms. “Not a terrible one, but another hit to the head probably wasn’t a great idea.”

“No. I took that horrible hood off and stuffed it in our toilet.”

Eddie chuckles at her indignation. “It’ll just be our luck they’ll fish it out and keep using it.”

“The toilet got cleaned before I did it,” Kono admits. “They also left some water. You should drink it.”

“I don’t think I’ll keep it down.”

“You should still try,” Kono insists, pushing a water bottle into his hands. 

The first sip is a struggle to keep down, but the second is easier, and the third even more so.  

“Did you learn anything new?” Kono asks when he’s drank most of the bottle.

“Not really. Did Wo Fat ever have like a thing for McGarrett?”

“Steve? Like in what way? He’s obsessed with making him miserable, and Steve’s just as bad—can’t let Wo Fat go.”

“Like sexually.”

“Ew—no. Absolutely not. Besides, Steve had Cath, and when she left, I thought maybe he’d make a move on Danny since Steve stares at his ass enough, but no. Steve’s oblivious unless it’s Danny.”

“So why doesn’t he make a move on Williams? Buck made it sound like they’re hopelessly gone on each other.”

“You realize this is like talking about my brothers, right?”

“So you won’t mind and have opinions then,” Eddie jokes with her.  

“I have two hundred bucks on them getting together before Christmas. Chin says not until after. Half of HPD is betting on them.”

“Isn’t gambling illegal in Hawaii?”

Kono’s grin is unrepentant. “Nah, brah. This is just all in fun.”

“So, would it be violating the terms of the bet if I shove one of them in the other’s direction after we get out of here?”

“I have a side bet on Danny making the first move—double or nothing. Kamekona also bet me that Danny will want it slow and won’t let Steve move him in before six months. There’s no way Steve won’t kidnap Danny and the kids at the first opportunity once they’re together.”

“I can work with that,” Eddie agrees. “If all else fails, I’ll enlist Buck.”

The taste of trouble on your lips

‘Cause now they’re bitting at your thoughts

You tell yourself just to turn away

But you know you’ve already lost

The smell of rain when you saw a way

Could never be paid in full 

you try in vain to account for this mess

And everything that you stole

***

Buck

Waiting is torture, but it feels like all he can do. It’s been four days since it felt like his heart was torn out of his chest, and he’s been all hollowed out. The only thing keeping him going is his desperate need for Eddie. 

It’s his fault. If it weren’t for Buck, Eddie would be safe at home with Christopher.  

He’s the reason Eddie was taken, and it’s killing him. 

Instead of a single call a day, Buck is checking in with Christopher constantly. There’s the as soon as Christopher wakes call that usually lasts until it’s time for school, during which he has to keep up a steady flow of everyday chatter to keep Christopher from breaking out the waterworks and refusing to get ready for the day. At lunchtime, one of the teachers will use their phone to allow Christopher to check in with Buck and keep him appraised of the goings-on of the fourth grade, which has more drama than you might expect for a bunch of nine-year-olds. 

The four-hour stretch between lunch and when Christopher gets home is the worst. Deacon has been picking Christopher up from school and then taking him home. Buck is thankful that Deacon has appointed himself as Christopher’s bodyguard and the man has good parenting instincts, but Buck can’t forget that he left the window for Eddie to be taken. 

Transporting is an opportunity. It’s how they’d gotten Eddie. 

Buck doesn’t relax until he gets confirmation that Christophe is safely ensconced with Deacon’s wife Annie at their home as a second layer of protection. The decision to remove Christopher from his own home had been difficult, but Buck will trade comfort for security, and it’s his decision to make.  

Fuck, Eddie. Couldn’t you have told me?  

He keeps asking himself why Eddie had decided to update his will to give Buck guardianship. Eddie has a family—parents, Abuela, Pepa, his sisters, and more. Why did he choose, of all people, Buck?  

Buck is going to find Eddie, and it will be the second thing he asks the bastard right after: Why me?

He doesn’t feel like he deserves this level of trust that Eddie has put in him. Is this how Eddie feels every day? Like he’s terrified that he’s ruining Christopher forever? That each decision has razor-sharp edges that cut both ways?

Is this what it feels like to have a kid?

The fourth and final call of the day is always the bedtime story. Steve had taken Buck to a bookstore on day two and bought a selection of books so that Buck could read them over FaceTime to Christopher. 

They’d started with A Wrinkle in Time as Buck wanted to avoid books with dead parents. Buck’s never read it before, but they’re going to finish it tonight, and he may never be the same again if Meg doesn’t get her family back in one piece. 

Danny had quietly picked up the rest of the series but cautioned Buck that he might want to wait a few years before Christopher reads the rest as there are some advanced themes. Grace had struggled with them last year and had a nightmare or two about water before Steve had taken her surfing, and she’d had a few too many questions about nuclear war for Danny’s own memories of nuclear warheads being smuggled through Oahu. Buck notes that Many Waters is probably not a book for Christopher, given their shared experience in the tsunami. 

Between Christopher’s phone calls, Buck tries to keep it together and not just tear everything around him apart, searching for Eddie. Buck’s instincts tell him that Eddie is on Oahu, and Steve seems to agree with him even if they have no evidence for this.  

Buck isn’t answering any other calls unless they regard Christopher or Eddie. He’s had to download a few voicemails for later as his inbox filled up, and he doesn’t want to miss something important. He’ll deal with Bobby and Maddie when he has the mental energy to spare.

He just happens to be hanging around the main workroom when Chin gets the flight numbers, his arms pricking up as Buck realizes they’re talking about proof Eddie might be on the island. 

“We have a starting point—grab your gun and badge,” Steve orders him, and he’s moving before Steve’s finished speaking. 

“Coast Guard station?” Buck asks.

“Let’s go talk to some coasties,” Steve’s smile has too many teeth in it, and Buck’s old habits shake off the civilian trappings he’s grown accustomed to and smiles back. 

Time to Oscar Mike. They got criminals to hunt. 

***

Their badges easily get them through the gates and into Barber’s Point Coast Guard Station. Steve’s request to talk to the station commanding officer without an appointment is greeted with a wary look but they’re shortly escorted into a conference room to wait. 

Something tells Buck that Steve makes the coasties nervous.

“Commander McGarrett—your reputation proceeds you,” Captain McCaffery says as he strides in.  

“Captain,” Steve politely stands and shakes the station CO’s hand while he introduces them, emphasizing Buck’s navy rank. “Steve McGarrett with 5-0 and this is lieutenant Buckley.”

McCaffery shakes Buck’s hand firmly but doesn’t crush his hand, all business. The head to toe sweep of his eyes is brusque but assessing. “What can I do for 5-0 today?  I’m aware of a request to access our security cameras but didn’t get the details.  Is there a search and rescue mission I’m not aware of?”

“No.  Or at least not yet.  One of our people was abducted on the mainland and we have reason to believe he was transported here to Oahu through this airfield.”

McCaffery frowns.  “Not on one of our birds.”

“No, sir.  However, you do have a lot more security than the rest of the airfield and I was hoping you might have cameras aimed towards the other hangers.”

“We don’t get commercial passenger flights here,” McCaffery warns.  “Mokulele stopped operating a few years ago and they only island hopped.”

“I’m aware,” Steve readily agrees. “There’s two flights of particular interest from three and four days ago.”

“Well, let’s go see what we can get for you.  Follow me.”

Buck and Steve follow the man to a workroom where a wall of monitors show views from different security cameras all over the station.  The security officer is expecting them and greets them professionally.  “I just got your request today, Commander.”

“We’re here to request it be expedited,” Steve says sincerely like chocolate wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

The security officer—Lieutenant Grant—isn’t phased but two of his people keep glancing at them over their shoulders, curious why 5-0 is in their space. They jump when Grant orders footage from three days ago be displayed on the big screen.  “This is the hanger that one of the flights went straight to and offloaded at.  We’ve got a view but it’s suboptimal.”

“We’ll take suboptimal.  Was that a regular flight?”

“Flies the same route every day, Monday through Friday.  Crew has a lot of turnover though because the pay is peanuts,” Grant observes. “Could mean greasing a few palms is easier to do and the crew is motivated to look the other way.”

Steve and Buck exchange a look over the tech’s heads as the footage starts playing, showing early evening based on the lack of sunlight.  “Here’s your plane taxiing in right at the end of the day.  They didn’t unload until the next morning but we noticed something interesting.”

Buck leans forward, watching the screen.  “Interesting how?”

His question is answered when a dark van pulls up alongside the hanger. The outside lights leave most of that side in shadow, and the van’s headlights are turned off. Two people exit the van and enter the hangar.

“No cameras inside the hangar?” Buck asks.

“Not that we can access. If there are any, twenty bucks say they don’t work,” the tech says offhandedly as he fast forwards through the footage.  

Less than ten minutes later, the two men exit, but they’re moving slower because they’ve got someone they’re carrying—it’s got to be Eddie. “Can you enlarge that?”

The tech looks offended. “Look, this isn’t some navy spy satellite. We don’t have your budget.”

“But can you do it?” Buck presses, his nails digging into his palm he’s got his hands clenched so tight into fists. Everything in him says that Eddie is the man being dragged out to that van. 

Grumbling, the tech does as asked. The picture is grainy, and getting details in the poor light is hard. The body being carried is bound, and there’s a hood over their head—no way to identify who it is except… Buck knows those boots.  

Eddie’d taken a chunk out of the left heel of his favorite workboots and had been grumbling about it for three weeks, but he’s too stubborn to replace his boots, claiming that he’s looking into getting them resoled. Buck knows Eddie will eventually give in to his teasing and buy a new pair of boots, then switch his complaining to having to break them in.

The light from the hangar catches on the carried man’s boots, and it’s just enough.

“It’s Eddie,” Buck announces. 

“How do you know?” Steve challenges. 

“Those boots. A week ago, he sent me a picture, grumbling about quality control.”

“You guys talk boots?”

“We talk about everything,” Buck says with a roll of his eyes. He could say the same of Steve and Danny, whom he caught arguing about coffee this morning—there’d been nothing wrong with the coffee. It was just an excuse to talk. Buck is pretty sure Steve’s and Danny’s love language is arguing. 

“The romance is dead,” the tech muttered, which got him a sharp reprimand from McCaffery. 

“Jenkins—how about we see if we can get these lovely gentlemen a license plate number.”

“Sure, Cap,” Jenkins responds more politely to his station CO. “On it.”

Buck has to bite his tongue to keep silent while the tech works backward, following the van to a better-lit area of the airfield and doing a lot of fancy computer work to get the plate. “Got it,” the tech finally announces.  

Displayed on the screen, they have a full plate. Steve has his phone out and is already calling a BOLO for the van while Buck almost falls over in relief. 

I’m coming, Eddie, he silently promises his best friend. 

***

The excitement of having something to track burns off quickly upon return to the Iolani Palace as there aren’t immediate results. Given the time frame, even if they are angrier than a kicked hornet’s nest, it will take time to find a van that could be anywhere on the island. 

“We’ve had a delivery,” Chin greets them, his body language screaming caution as he hovers over the computer table with Danny at his side. 

“What kind of delivery,” Steve asks, Buck’s nerves on end. Chin isn’t a false alarm type, and Danny’s scowl is borderline homicidal. 

“Proof of life,” Danny admits, and Buck’s heart freezes. 

“Proof of life?” He echoes. Surely, it’s just pictures like with Kono. Wo Fat wouldn’t have cut off part of Eddie’s body. Buck’s been on a lot of missions where kidnapping played a role. There were a lot of parts of the world where only a body part was acceptable, and escalation would make sense. 

“A video,” Chin says, but his mood doesn’t change, not reassuring Buck about Eddie’s status. 

“Bring it up,” Steve orders. 

“Babe, are you sure—“

“Yes!” Steve Barks. “Buck on me.”

Buck follows robotically to stand beside Steve as they all face the largest screen in the room. The video is short. Eddie is tied down to a chair, his mouth covered by a stripe of duct tape. There’s a trickle of blood from his hairline, and he’s furiously glaring at the camera as if he can melt it with his eyes. Every muscle is tensed like a coiled predator as Wo Fat yanks at Eddie’s hair, today’s newspaper in his other to show the headline and date at the top of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser about a surfing competition that might be held this weekend on the North Shore if the waves are big enough—‘Will the Eddie Go?’ 

Wo Fat is fucking trolling them, making Buck’s blood boil with rage. “Say hello to Evan, Edmundo.”

Eddie attempts to headbutt his captor, but the hand in his hair is cruel, twisting hard to abate the movement. The painful lines around Eddie’s eyes highlight the purpling over the left temple—a bruise from taking a fist to the face. He’s breathing hard through his nose, noises of protest making it through the barrier. 

Wo Fat smiles throughout, unbothered by Eddie’s fury. “Hello, Steven, and I’m assuming Evan. As you can see, I have something of yours.“

Eddie jerks in the chair, pissed but unable to do much, given how he’s bound. Wo Fat releases his grip on his hair to slide a hand down Eddie’s face. Eddie rears back as if burnt, but the hand catches his jaw and then settles around his neck and squeezes while Wo Fat smiles directly at the camera. 

“Brother—I’ll be in touch.” Wo Fat gives another squeeze to Eddie’s throat before releasing him and walking towards the camera. “You have a choice to make, Evan.”

The screen goes black. 

“What does that mean?” Danny asks Steve, a calculating look on his face. “Buck has a choice to make?”

“He wants Buck to go home,” Steve snarls, arms bulging as he grips his biceps with both hands like he wants to hit something but is restraining himself.  

“No. I’m not going home without Eddie!” Buck snaps, whirling to face Steve. “I promised Christopher!”

“And I’m not asking you to,” Steve holds his hand up in the air but doesn’t touch Buck.

“He wants us broken up—the entire team,” Danny interrupts. “But why target you like this when he’s had Kono longer?”

“Because he can’t get your kids,” Chin interrupts. 

Everyone pauses, like the gasp before the fall at the top of a rollercoaster.  

“Rachel’s still here,” Danny argues quietly, breaking the silence. “It’s not because of my relationship as Steve’s partner.”

Buck knows Chin’s right, but… he’s also wrong. Danny’s also right. 

Probably.

“He thinks you see me as a brother,” Buck tells Steve, drawing the connection between how Steve had brought him here to Hawaii like an older brother taking care of the younger. “That’s why he grabbed Eddie instead of Rachel. He calls you brother.”

Steve is stricken. “You’re ‘Ohana, Buck. That bastard is nothing to me.”

“That’s not the way he sees it,” Danny snorts. “I’m probably his next target, though, since he’s a bit twisted in his definitions.”

“What does that mean?” Steve protests weakly. 

Chin is unimpressed with all of them and ignores Steve’s incomprehension. “If Danny’s the next target, then—“

“He is not getting any more of us!” Steve snarls in frustration like a caged tiger. “And we’re getting Eddie and Kono back! What have you been doing with the plate number?”

“We’re still waiting for a hit,” Danny says mildly, watching Steve calmly. “Do you want us out scanning the streets?  Really ineffective waste of time.”

Steve snarls and rubs his temples.  Buck’s own mood echoes Steve’s but his ears are ringing and his knees are locked so he doesn’t collapse on the floor from the numbness spreading through him. He wants to break something, tear things apart until someone gives him a direction to go in to find Eddie but also wants to rage against fate for taking Eddie.  

“Keep looking,” Steve  says before turning on his heel and stalking to his office, closing the door with a slam before sitting at his desk. 

Buck, Chin and Danny stare at each other, speechless.  

Looking towards Steve, Buck notes that he’s picked up his phone and is calling someone.  Unsure, he asks Danny, “Should I?”

“No.  Let him have a few minutes,” Danny says with a shake of his head. 

“But you and him—“

“Now’s not the time,” Danny shuts Buck down and it feels like he’s been slapped. Danny notices immediately and he’s apologetic. “Buck…”

“Don’t,” Buck pulls away from Danny as his phone rings in his pocket. It’s time for Christopher’s lunchtime call which comes from whichever teacher’s phone is available.  “I’m going to take this outside.”

“Buck,” Danny tries to call him back but he’s already out the door. 

“Hey Superman—how’s lunch?” He says once he’s outside, closing his eyes and trying to sound semi-normal. Buck can do this for Christopher.  He can pretend everything isn’t completely fucked up. 

“Aunt Annie is determined to make me eat healthy, Buck,” Christopher says petulantly instead of greeting him. 

“Eating healthy is good for you,”

“She packed celery,” Christopher whines, “without peanut butter or raisins.”

“Does she not know about ants on a log?”  Buck’s pretty sure there’s no peanut butter allowed at Durand because of food allergies, but the lack of peanut butter is criminal in his opinion.  Celery is only good with peanut butter and raisins. 

“No.”

“Did she give you some dip?”

“Hummus,” Christopher huffs. “And carrots.”

“Is it the good hummus?” Buck knows that usually Christopher isn’t too picky about food but hates it when things are bland. Eddie always says its because its their latino roots that abhor plain food and want everything to be tongue burning hot. 

“No.  It’s plain,” Christopher opines.  “Lila doesn’t like the roasted pepper one because she says it’s too hot and the garlic stuff is for vampire hunters so there’s only plain.”

“Does anyone have some hot sauce you can mix in?” Buck asks, trying to problem solve Christopher’s lunch from thousands of miles away and not laugh about how serious Christopher said ‘vampire hunters’.  Either Eddie screwed up with policing the tv or one of the other fourth graders has been spreading stuff again. “Sriracha?”

“You can mix sauce in hummus?” Christopher perks up, his inner scientific curiosity piqued by the possibilities. 

“Yeah.  How else do you think they flavor it?” Buck teases. 

“Nobody is going to have garlic,” Christopher grumbles.  The kid would have a love affair with garlic bread and garlic flavored hummus if Eddie would let him. 

“Probably not.  Maybe one of the teachers has some hot sauce they’d share?”  Christopher’s been having a school employee sit at his table during lunch as the school had objected to Deacon’s hovering as he was armed at all times. The SWAT officer has been relegated to holding up walls outside of the classroom or standing next to doors while the teachers have allowed access to phones but only under direct supervision.

Buck overhears Christopher asking a Miss Baxter about hot sauce for his hummus and realizes that it must be Sophia that got assigned to today’s lunch supervision.  He hasn’t had reason to talk further with the administrative assistant. “Can I talk to Miss Baxter?”

“As soon as she gets back with the hot sauce. How much should I put in?”

Buck walks Christopher through how he’d do it—adding a little bit of sauce at a time, stirring it into the hummus with a carrot or celery stick, and taste testing it, being careful not to overdo it. Generally, Christopher is easy to sneak veggies into as he likes finger food since it’s easier for him to handle as long as it isn’t broccoli.

Christopher is easily distracted by the experiment once Ms. Baxter returns and hot sauce is added to his hummus. Buck’s not convinced Christopher likes the combination, but he’s so focused on adjusting the amount that he ends up eating all his hummus before finding the right amount of heat. Buck promises that they’ll do more experiments once he’s home. 

It was the wrong thing to say, and Christopher abruptly hands the phone to Sophia.  

“Mr. Buckley?”

“Miss Baxter—call me Buck.”

“Okay, Buck. What did you need? Is there something you need me to do other than start hoarding sriracha sauce to share?”

“Ah, no, but thanks for that. I just wanted to say thank you again for staying late with Christopher the other night.”

“No thanks are necessary. It’s part of my job. The sound of the bell announces that lunch is over, and Christopher has recess immediately following. Deacon’s voice is heard peripherally saying he’ll take Christopher to the playground, and Sophia agrees. 

“Bye, Buck!” Christopher shouts, not waiting for the same. 

“Sorry about that,” Sophia says. He’s been a bit moody.”

“That’s… yeah.”

“Any news about Mr. Diaz?”

“We know he’s here on the island—or was a couple of days ago,” Buck says aloud for the first time, and he slides down the wall behind him to sit on the concrete as it fully hits him.  

Eddie’s here on Oahu. So close but so far away.  

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Buck swallows down the sob that wants to escape. He’s not going to cry on the phone with someone he barely knows. “He’s alive. I just have to find him, and we’ll be home.”

“Christopher has faith in you. He misses you both.”

“I know. Just thanks for watching out for him while I can’t.”

“He’s got an entire team focused on keeping him safe right now,” She assures him. “You take care of yourself though.”

“Thanks.”

“I have to go,” she says regretfully. “You’re doing everything you can, and you’re going to bring his dad home. He’s just scared.”

“I know. Just watch over him for me?”

“Will do, Mr. Buckley.”

“It’s Buck.”

Sophia laughs. “Get back to work then, Buck. Christopher’s in good hands.”

She hangs up, so he hides his face in his hands. 

Christopher is safe, he tells himself, repeating it like a mantra. Christopher is safe. 

He startles when someone slides down the wall to sit beside him. It’s Danny, and he’s eyeing Buck like he’s fragile. 

“You okay, kid?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Come here,” Danny telegraphs his movement and pulls Buck under his arm. Danny is a much smaller man than him, but Buck manages to curl up into the older man’s side. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Buck is confused. “You didn’t—“

“I did, and I’m sorry.”

He figures that further protests are futile. “I’m scared we’re not going to get him back.”

“We’re going to get him back,” Danny insists immediately. 

“You’re not supposed to promise that.”

“Yeah, well, in this case, I am. We’re not letting Wo Fat win.”

“It feels like he’s winning.”

“He’s not. He’s like a cartoon villain—all monologues and dastardly plans focused on making Steve suffer.” Neither point out that Wo Fat’s body count is relatively high. 

Neither of them says anything for several minutes as they both think about the mess they’re in. 

“Why does he want Steve to suffer? What did Steve ever do to him?”

“Nothing. Steve did nothing to him. It’s all his mother’s fault,” Danny’s deep scowl is fierce, and he pulls no punches. “And Joe’s.”

“I thought Joe always favored Steve before this.”

“He does. Personally, I think it’s mostly because of Doris.”

Buck cocks his head, confused. “What does Joe White have to do with Steve’s mom?”

“I think that he wishes she’d go with him. Is it a seal thing that you go for crazy people?” Danny jokes, attempting to lighten the conversation.

“You’re one of those crazy people,” Buck shoots back, and Danny’s face falls.

“Steve and I haven’t figured things out. Might never.”

“Maybe you should,” Buck emphasizes the you part. He’s pretty sure Danny will have to make the first move because Steve, like Buck, is terrified of messing it up. 

“Don’t. Fix your own problems first.”

“Can’t if we don’t get Eddie back.”

“You going to tell him?”

Buck frowns, squirming until he’s more comfortable, but it’s really just an excuse not to make eye contact. 

“Buck—you need to tell Eddie you love him.”

“It’s hard.”

“I know.”

“I’ve never felt like I do about anyone else.”

“That’s pretty scary,” Danny agrees. 

“It’s… It’s a huge risk. What if we don’t work out?”

“What if you do? What if you spend the rest of your life together?”

“We could do that anyways—as best friends.”

“Yeah, but… nobody is promised tomorrow, right?”

“You going to take your own advice?”

“I’m talking about you and Diaz right now. You can pick on me sometime never.”

“That’s hardly fair—and it’s Eddie.  Call him Eddie.”

“Nobody said it was. I always thought Rachel and I would be forever, you know? When Steve met me, I was hurt and still in love with her. I couldn’t understand why she left me and traveled to this pineapple-infested hellhole because I couldn’t let her or Grace go.”

“I’ve been there.”

Danny ignores his interruption. “What I’m saying is that I wouldn’t have Grace if it weren’t for Rachel. I wouldn’t be here and have met Steve if it weren’t for her, either. Sometimes fate works in mysterious ways.”

“The universe screams,” Buck agrees. 

Danny nods. “The universe screams at you until you do what you were always meant to do. It doesn’t mean it won’t hurt along the way, but I... I wouldn’t give up Steve for anything other than my kids.”

“It’s a good thing you sent them to the Mainland.”

“You sound like Steve—calling it the Mainland.”

“I’ve acclimated.”

“Now you sound like me. Steve doesn’t know those sorts of big words.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “Let me know when the adoption papers go through.”

“Let me know when you need my signature,” Danny primly says. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Seriously though… is Steve…” Buck fails to find the words to finish his question, but Danny gets his meaning. 

“Still on the phone, last I checked. If he hasn’t stopped shaking the coconut wireless, HPD will probably be ready to riot by now.”

“Should we go save them?”

“Probably.”

“Need a hand up?”

“I’m not that old,” Danny protests but still takes Buck’s hand when he offers it. 

No, can this world not afford to sleep anymore? (Oh)

No, did your sleep start jumping?

They grow out their teeth 

Did they need something more than this?

 

‘Cause now they’re biting at your feet

They got you running from this place

Now they’re breathing down your neck

I see you looking just out of frame

What is it pulling you there?

‘Cause things can never stay the same

So what is keeping you here?

***

Danny

Buck’s fracturing under the stress of not knowing and his need to protect those important to him. Danny can see the kid being pulled apart by his natural protective instincts for Christopher in LA and his need to find Diaz. After their little chat outside, Buck takes over the task of taking calls from HPD since Steve is like a volcano spewing warning ash that a massive eruption is imminent. 

Danny may be mixing metaphors, but something’s gotta give soon, or they all will break 

Chin is practically glued to the computer table, going through every camera light on Oahu, trying to find the van. Steve is doing his round of phone calls again, and the only positive thing is that he’d given Danny a quick word that Cath had ruled out Diaz’s parents officially as a problem. 

Unofficially, Danny was going to keep an eye on that situation. The longer Diaz was gone, the more likely there would be a challenge to the status quo. 

The afternoon drags on, and even with their new lead, they make no progress, so he shoos Buck and Steve out to run or something aquatic to burn off their aggression. Chin orders food in for himself and Danny, not moving from his post other than to pay the delivery driver who brought over plate dinners from Kamekona for them both.

He’s about halfway through his chicken teriyaki that he eats his weight in each week when his cell phone rings. Hastily swallowing the bite he just took, he’s a bit brusque when he answers. “Williams.”

“Detective,” Raissa’s velvety voice purrs across the connection. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“No. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you would join me for dinner.”

“Tonight?” He puts his fork down and wipes his face with the napkin. 

“Yes. I’ve made reservations for a private dining room at Hy’s.”

“In Waikiki?”

“Isn’t that the only one?”

“There’s a few in Canada?” He jokes, unable to believe she’s reaching out to him. 

Raissa laughs. “I assume you have a suit coat?”

“I do.”

“Good. I made the reservation under your name for nine. I will meet you there.”

“Sure.” He doesn’t ask anything over the phone—it’s evident that Raissa prefers discussions in person since she’d come to his home rather than call him in the first place. 

“I will see you then. Goodbye, Detective.”

“Nine at Hy’s,” he verifies, then ends the conversation, pulse racing.  

Holy shit.  

His first impulse is to call Steve, but he squashes it immediately. Raissa reached out to him when she could easily have also asked to speak to Steve. He’d gone over her financials, and there’s no overt evidence that she’s still getting money from her husband, but Raissa Su isn’t hurting for anything, either.  

She reminds him of a lot of mob wives from back home, and he’s not going to say what he thinks it means that she’s reaching out to him instead of Steve. 

Also, Steve might scare her or her ex-husband off if he’s still ready to blow like he was earlier. Danny isn’t going to let this lead go—it might be the break they need to find Kono and Diaz Eddie. 

“Chin,” Danny calls as he shoves his takeout into the trash. “I need to go out.”

Instead of yelling across the office, Chin comes to him. “Where?”

“I got a dinner meeting.”

Chin glances at the clock on the wall. “This late? With who?”

“You know who,” Danny emphasizes. 

Chin immediately gets what he means. “You think he’ll show?”

“Won’t know until I meet her for dinner.” He hopes Sang Min will show his shady ass, but it’s not guaranteed. 

“I’m assuming I’m not invited?”

“No. I need you to drop me off and be available for backup.”

“Are we not telling Steve?”

“No.”

Chin’s eyebrows raise in judgment.  

“Steve is with Buck.”

“And I’m supposed to be with you,” Chin points out.

“I’m taking you as backup—you’ll just need to hang out in the bar. You’ll hear if things go south.”

“If you get kidnapped—,” Chin warns.

“Steve will murder you—I know. She contacted me, Chin,” Danny pleads with Chin to agree with him. 

Chin sighs. “Okay. But I reserve the right to tell you I told you so if this goes badly.”

“You’re going to be nearby, and I’m an adult.”

“Who’s having dinner with the former wife of one of the biggest human traffickers we’ve ever arrested.”

“She’s former. Nothing on her says she’s dirty.”

“Because we didn’t bother to look that closely,” Chin adds. 

“We made a deal,” Danny reminds him.

“Don’t remind me,” Chin grumbles, grabbing his gun and badge. 

“It’ll be fine.”

“Those are famous last words.”

***

Hy’s Steakhouse is a very nice place. There’s not an official dress code as it is in Waikiki, but tank tops or surf wear will get frowned upon as it’s more formal. It’s the kind of place you take someone on an anniversary dinner or to get engaged. 

Giving his name to the hostess, Danny is immediately shown to a private table in a sheltered area away from the main dining room. Raissa is already there, a glass of white wine in hand. “Daniel,” she greets him, kissing both cheeks and making him blush, “glad you could make it.”

“So am I. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not at all. I hope you don’t care, but I ordered a bottle,” she indicates the white wine.  

“It’s all yours,” he insists. Danny makes a point of not drinking on the job, especially if this is about what he thinks it is. She wouldn’t have gone to this much trouble if she wasn’t going to give him something.

“As long as you don’t mind,” she pauses, and he waves it off. “I was waiting for you to order appetizers.”

“I’m fine with whatever you prefer if we’re sharing.”

She hums but doesn’t say anything further as the waiter has arrived. Danny orders one of their butterfly lemonades, which makes the waiter’s eyebrow climb and eyes dart to the open bottle of wine. “Yes, sir. Would you be wanting appetizers this evening, or are we waiting for our third guest?”

Danny lets Raissa order, and she selects the seafood platter. There’s a third place setting, but neither acknowledges it while the waiter hovers. The waiter disappears, and an awkward silence descends.

“Is he going to be here to eat, or is the plan to wait until after we’re served?”

She has the good grace to blush, and her eyelashes flutter a bit. Danny’s not sure if it’s an act or genuine. If it’s an act, then she’s a fantastic actress. “He will be here later. I hope you don’t mind this excuse of mine to see him.”

“You don’t see him often?”

“No,” She says after a sip of wine. “He knows I do not approve of what he’s doing.”

“How much do you know?”

She eyes him over the rim of her glass, weighing how much to tell him. “More than I should, but not enough to give you what you need.”

“Fair.” She’s careful, and Danny can respect that. “You have to think of your son.”

“Exactly. I made a deal with my husband when I married him—our children will always come first. He agreed to my stipulations.”

“I can respect that.”

“He said you have children. That you were smart to have them sent away, you are brave for doing that—I could not.”

“You’d have to go with him.”

She inclines her head in agreement, taking another sip of wine. “Our home is here. My dearest wish is not to be forced to leave it.”

“And?” Danny prompts. 

“The only way that may happen is if he gives you what you need… which will likely mean I am saying goodbye to him for a long while. You cannot blame me for wanting to have a meal with him before that?”

“Make a memory?” He asks, unsure what she’s saying. 

“Yes. I will lay my cards on the table for you. The only protection my husband will have is if he is transferred to a mainland prison. If he is released early for good behavior after a number of years, he can return. This will give you time to dismantle those that would force him to return to his bad habits.”

“You want me to what? Clear out all the riffraff that’s his competition?”

“No. I want him not to be tempted. I want him to choose me.”

“Ah.” Danny can admire her ambition—he’s still not sure he believes her. Somebody like her husband doesn’t just change his stripes, but he did attempt to be honorable for a long while after he made his original deal with Steve to keep Raissa and their son out of things. 

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you want the best for your son,” Danny offers.

She drains the remainder of her glass, then pours herself another generous glass, dropping a bit of her refined act. “I can work with that.”

“Can you get your husband to agree?” Neither of them are referring to Sang Min as her ex. They might be divorced, but that’s just a bit of legal paperwork.  

“He will give you what you need,” she says, steel underlying her voice. “He saw the video sent to you today.”

“And what? Didn’t like it?”

“He said they threatened the man’s child to take him.”

“Did they?”

“I do not doubt my husband’s words.”

Danny’s uncertain if she means Sang Min was one of the guys that nabbed Eddie or if he simply told her what had happened. She knows more about it either way than he does of the particulars. 

“You are good men—better than my husband.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“And?”  

They are interrupted by their waiter reappearing with Danny’s drink. “Would you like to order?”

Danny nods to Raissa for her to start. “I’ll have the rack of lamb, and,” she points to the empty plate, “he’ll have the porterhouse.” The waiter asks her for a few more details before Danny orders his own Delmonico. 

The seafood platter arrives along with their other dining companion. Sang Min is almost unrecognizable. He’s freshly shaved and has parted his hair nicely, wearing a suit that isn’t flashy but has an understated elegance that matches his wife. 

“Sang Min,” Danny greets him after he kisses Raissa and takes his seat. 

“Detective Williams,” Sang Min returns quietly as he folds his napkin over his lap. There’s none of the usual rancor or terrible humor. If Danny wasn’t looking at him, he wouldn’t recognize the man next to him as Sang Min.

“Nice of you to join us,” Danny drawls, watching Sang Min deftly take a sample of the seafood platter and put it in front of his wife, serving Raissa first as she pours him a glass of wine. 

“You are crashing date night,” Sang Min informs him. A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth is directed toward Raissa, who is taking her first bite. 

“Sorry about that. Raissa invited me.” The absolutely besotted look is amusing that Sang Min is sending Raissa. 

“I know,” he agrees mildly.

“And?”

“Let us eat first?” Sang Min pleads, turning finally to look at Danny. The hunch to his shoulders almost makes Danny feel sorry for the asshole, but he’s been shot at by him, so he’s prejudiced. 

Danny lets it go. He silently picks a few tasty bits out as he listens to Sang Min ask Raissa about their son’s latest report card and baseball game, which she talks about as if they are the only ones at the table.  

It’s rather domestic of them, and Danny can tell both of them are desperately trying to pretend this is a normal night out for themselves. 

The main course is served, and Danny takes a moment to fully appreciate the steak in front of him that is a masterpiece. He’s almost regretting not letting Steve know, as he knows his partner enjoys a good steak almost as much as he does. Applying fire to steak is one of Steve’s favorite hobbies. 

“Detective Williams?” 

Sang Min addresses him right as he cuts into his steak, which makes Danny want to sigh in frustration as the steak is perfectly medium rare. “Yes?”

“You know that I have lately been in the company of someone you are looking for.” Sang Min is holding his wife’s hand. Neither of them has touched their mains. 

“Are we talking Kono, Diaz, or Wo Fat?” 

“All of them,” Sang Min admits. “I may have gotten involved in something I did not want to be.”

“Little late, don’t you think?”

“I sent Raissa to you.”

“Did you?” He’s been wondering which contact had talked to her, and he only half believes that Sang Min was forward-thinking enough to send her as an envoy. 

Sang Min rolls right along, ignoring his pointed jab. “I don’t want anything to happen to Kono—or the new one.”

“Okay…and?”

“I want out, too. I know I’ve done too much now or in the past not to have to pay for it.”

Danny lets the silence stretch, but Sang Min doesn’t blink. “How many people has he killed?”

Sang Min flinches. “Too many. I will have to be there when you… when you attack.”

“I’m not launching an invasion.”

“Whatever you want to call it then—a raid? I cannot be seen to be the one that ratted him out.”

“It’s smart that you’re afraid of him,” Danny is not being friendly, and Raissa’s hand is squeezing Sang Min’s hard enough to bruise now. 

“I would ask for your leniency in writing, but I want no proof that it is me. I need your word. I trust your word, Detective.”

“Spell out what you’re willing to give me,” Danny insists. 

“I will give you Wo Fat. I will give you Kono and the new guy—Diaz.”

“What about the protection racket?”  

Sang Min shrugs. “If you take out him, the rest will crumble without him to enforce things. It’s his money hiring the muscle. No money, we all go back to fighting each other for our little pieces of paradise.”

“And why is he doing it? Does he say?”

A troubled frown crosses Sang Min’s face. “Your partner, McGarrett. He hates him—is obsessed with him, and calls him brother. They are not related?”

“No.”

“Huh.” Sang Min chews on that information for a moment before continuing. “Everything is to get McGarrett’s attention. The money is secondary.”

“Interesting.” Danny wouldn’t be surprised if that really is Wo Fat’s motivation. The man is crazier than a box of cats with their tails tied together. 

“I trust you to ensure my husband survives your raid,” Raissa interjects. 

“As long as he’s still good at ducking and surrendering, we can work with that.” 

“I will wave the white flag,” Sang Min agrees. “How do you want to do this?”

“Where are we talking? I need a general location.”

“North Shore.”

“Going to be busy up there all weekend with the surf competition.”

“Yes.”

“So early or late in the day.”

“Late. After the traffic dies down,” Sang Min corrects. “I will contact you tomorrow through Raissa with a location and details. She has a number to contact me that she will give you when it is time. Do not contact me before then.”

“So I just let you walk out of here?”

“If you want your ‘Ohana back? Yes.”

Danny purposefully takes a bite of his steak that has been going cool. It still melts on his tongue and is the best meal he’s had in months. “Deal—but if I don’t hear from you, consider any future encounters we have I will treat you as persona non grata and throw you in the deepest, darkest hole I can find, capiche?”

“Understood.”

“Good. Now eat your dinner—it’s getting cold.” Danny stands and goes to find the waiter. He asks for his meal to be boxed up and settles the bill, covering dessert and another bottle of wine for the pair. It’s an astronomical sum on a cop's salary, but Danny’s counting it as a gesture of goodwill since he likes Raissa even if she did marry a hopeless idiot. 

Chin spots him as soon as he steps out the door. “Well?”

“Call Steve. We’ve got a raid to start prepping for.”

And if you could try to find it too

‘Cause this place has overgrown into waxing mood

home is where’ve we are if there’s love there too

song: Sunsets for Somebody Else by Jack Johnson

Notes:

I’m aware the Eddie usually runs in the winter but we’re doing some hand waving and moving it up to late September/October because of fic timeline reasons. Also, I’ve never been to Hy’s in Waikiki but it looks fantastic and has great reviews.

Chapter 12: Operation Rescue

Summary:

Steve finds out about Danny’s conversation with Sang Min before getting the wind knocked out of his sails by an unexpected visitor. Danny takes care of Steve and gathers actionable proof. Buck storms Wo Fat’s lair and rescues an Eddie that may or may not need rescuing (he’s no damsel in distress).

Notes:

Warning for yet another cliffhanger (or as Harley tells me it’s a double cliffhanger 🤨 which I beg to differ—it’s only the one which is the same cutoff point)

 

Bring on your hunters

Let them bring their dogs

It’s me that you wanted

I’ve been right here all along

Right here all along

Steve

“You did what?!?” Steve glares at Danny, who is unrepentant. 

“I met with Sang Min,” Danny repeats calmly. 

“And you agreed with this?” Steve snarls at Chin, who is leaning silently against the computer table and has the good sense to wince when Steve’s angry glare lands on him. “You were supposed to be watching Danny!”

“Hey! I don’t need a babysitter. I’m a detective, Babe, and this is what detectives do—they get leads!”

Steve tries to breathe in and out through his nose, but he’s still stuck on the fact that Danny had a clandestine meeting with Sang Min earlier night and hadn’t told Steve about it. “Sang Min is dangerous. He’s working with Wo Fat!”

“I know,” Danny snaps, hair ruffled from running his hands through it when he’s stressed and hasn’t slept, the gel losing its hold. “And for what it’s worth, he’s sorry about it.”

“Oh, he’s sorry about it? Well, then, that makes it alright, doesn’t it? He’s not going to kidnap you and put you in the same cell next to Kono or Diaz—“

“Enough!” Buck barks, interrupting the argument. The kid is hugging himself tight, his biceps about ready to tear through his t-shirt, and he’s rocking on his heels in anxiety, but his attention is locked on Danny. “What did Sang Min have to say?”

“He is willing to trade the location of where Wo Fat’s keeping Kono and Eddie in exchange for leniency.”

“Leniency?” Steve is so mad he’s spitting.

“Leniency. Sang Min knows he’s going away for a while, but he’s asking that he be sent somewhere on the mainland away from here and not to oppose parole if he behaves himself.”

“You said he has a kid. He wants to get sent away from his kid?”

“He’s trying to keep his kid and ex away from all the bad things,” Danny shrugs.  

Steve gets Sang Min’s point but doesn’t know if it’ll work. Sang Min’s probably safer further away from the Hawaiian varieties of jailhouse gangs, and they might be able to recommend club fed, which would be both safer and less restrictive, but he’s done nothing to earn it. 

“Babe,” Danny coaxes, reaching for him, and Steve stubbornly yanks out of his reach.

He’s not interested in being appeased. Danny ran an intel op without telling him, and he could have gotten killed or kidnapped without Steve there to watch over him. Danny should know better after what happened with Kono and Di—Eddie.

“What did he and you promise exactly?” Steve tries to refocus, teeth grinding. Steve knows Sang Min will twist Danny’s words to his advantage. 

“I said I wouldn’t aim to kill him when we capture him. He’ll have to put up a bit of a struggle as he doesn’t want to be found out,” Danny starts. 

“So no shooting the asshole in the head,” Buck snarls, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. Steve’s not surprised at Buck’s vehemence, but it shifts his worry. 

“Evan—“

“No,” Buck cuts him off, ignoring Steve and still uncomfortably focused on Danny. “What was the agreement? Did he say if Eddie was being left alone?”

Danny shifts his weight, and his hands make an aborted move toward Buck before he reins it in at Buck’s flinch. “He said Eddie and Kono were currently in okay shape. They’re not antagonizing them all day.”

“Great, so the beating and torture only happens once a day,” Buck retorts. 

“I didn’t say that, and neither did he,” Danny sharply rebukes the assumption that Eddie and Kono are being tortured. “He said they were getting food and water but didn’t say much about the accommodations as he didn’t want me figuring it out and ruining his deal.”

“Okay. What else did he say then,” Steve presses before Buck can pick a fight. He knows that look on Buck’s face, and the last time Steve had seen it, he’d been banned from four bars in Lima for life and spent a very uncomfortable night doing concussion checks on Buck after he’d been sent through a plate glass windows and hit his head on a car. 

“The location they’re keeping them at is somewhere up north. He has my cell phone number and will give an exact location in about,” Danny checks his watch, “fourteen hours.”

“We’ll be going in blind then,” Steve growls.

“Not exactly. Sang Min gave me a brief outline of the place and where there’s likely to be a guard or minions gathered. Granted, it’s only an outline, but it’s better than nothing.”

“When we have a location, we can ask for sat data?” Buck interjects, trying to grasp at straws. The naked hope on Buck’s face is mixed with the fear for Diaz that’s been permanently etched there for days, and he’s falling back into their old ways when they’d been given even less intel than what Danny’s giving them. “It won’t give us a room-by-room breakdown, but at least we’ll have some intel.”

“So Kono and Eddie,” Steve emphasizes to Danny that he’s using Diaz’s first name like asked, “are in semi-good condition. They’re getting food and water, and from Eddie’s video, we know he wasn’t badly injured from being grabbed.”

Buck growls loudly at the reminder of how Eddie’d been snatched. He is still sore about Eddie not being protected, which has added to his trust issues with LA—not any particular person but in general. “But we don’t know what’s happened since.”

“Not for sure, no,” Danny hedges, eyes flicking between Steve and Buck. 

The frustrated and wounded sound Buck makes at that admission hurts Steve’s soul. They have to be okay. That’s the only outcome he’ll accept. 

“What else? What else did he give you?”

Danny doesn’t react to Steve’s brittle sharpness, but the way in which he moves his hands is placating. “There’s anywhere from ten to thirty hired guns on the property at any time. Many of them are not from around here, and they tend to stick around, according to Sang Min.”

“Foreign?”

“A mix. Triad hires, and a few locals like Sang Min, and he indicated the triad guys are all pretty hard ass.”

Steve doesn’t know what it means that Sang Min considers them hard ass but assumes they probably won’t want to come in quietly, which is fine with him. They can come out of there in a body bag for all Steve cares. 

“Armed?”

“Always. Sang Min says they were all outfitted by the guy who replaced Doran—or I should say, woman.”

“Woman?”

“Ms. Keiko ‘Aukai.”

“What?” Steve gapes. “Her?”

“Yes.”

“But her shop is in the International Marketplace!” Steve protests weakly. He would never have clocked the petite female as a gunrunner. 

“Kono would smack all of us,” Chin mutters as his fingers fly across the computer table. “She’s got access to shipping and warehouses, and the shop in the marketplace isn’t the only one she owns. She’s able to transfer cargo between islands without a lot of scrutiny. She’s hiding in plain sight, and we’d never associate her with something like this because she’s a woman.”

“So they robbed her store to hide her from us?” Buck asks. 

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not just as surprised as I was,” Danny chides the other blonde. 

“I think Athena or Hen would box my ears for missing this,” Buck admits. 

“Okay, but she’s a distraction,” Steve says. “So she’s providing the guns. What else?”

“Guns, ammunition, security equipment, and explosives, Babe. Wo Fat names it, and she provides it.”

Chin’s swearing is muffled as his fingers sweep across import/export data. “She’s gotta be bribing someone. The amount of weight she moves doesn’t make sense for a jewelry shop unless she’s shipping gold bars.”

“Sang Min said she’s also a money launderer. She’s quietly been taking over all the business the Hesse brothers used to have, and she’s pretty enough that everyone underestimates her until she’s stepping on their throat with her five-inch heels.”

“She’s not that pretty,” Steve snarls. 

“Just telling it as I was told it,” Danny shrugs. 

“Fine,” Steve bites out. “So we should expect them not to give it up easy, and they’re loaded for bear.”

“Yes.”

“Anything good he told you?”

“We’ll have the exact location by tomorrow, er later today,” Danny says as he checks his watch noting that it’s after midnight. “I know it’ll be up north. Gives us time to get ready.”

Steve doesn’t say what he’s thinking, that it’s not enough. He wants Kono and Eddie out of Wo Fat’s hands yesterday. He doesn’t want to wait hours for a chance to get them back. 

“Babe,” Danny tries again, his palm hot where it rests on Steve’s forearm. Steve’s been so preoccupied in his head, running worst-case scenarios, that he’d missed Danny closing in on him. If it were anyone else other than maybe Buck, he’s keyed up enough that he would have put them on the ground for touching him. “C’mon, Babe. We need to sleep and then pack up and head north.”

Danny’s talking sense. 

Steve should listen to his partner. 

“We’ll pick up Miss ‘Aukai later. She’s a problem for later unless she’s there.”

“As long as we don’t forget about her,” Danny adds. 

“We won’t,” Steve promises. He’s ready to burn the entire world down if it gets Kono and Eddie back home. Keiko ‘Aukai is collateral damage, and he’ll relish dismantling her business later—Steve’s got a bigger fish to gut and fry. 

He’s not going to let Wo Fat walk away this time. Steve’s done with being toyed with.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as if the universe is reading his mind. Who could be calling him after midnight?

The number is a Montana area code, which is a signal. 

It’s Joe… but why? 

“McGarrett,” Steve snaps as he accepts the call, refusing to appear friendly. 

“Steve,” Joe’s tone is warm and welcoming as if nothing has changed between them.

Steve closes his eyes and counts to ten, breathing hard through his nose. “What do you want, Joe?”

Buck snaps rigidly to attention at Steve’s use of Joe’s name, on high alert. 

“I’m here,” Joe says like he’s trying to comfort Steve, but it grates on his already stressed nerves like nails on a chalkboard. 

“What do you mean you’re here?”

“Landed forty minutes ago. Sorry about the time. I had to wait for my bags.”

“You flew commercial?” Steve had put Joe’s name on the watch list for Honolulu. He should have been notified if Joe was on a passenger manifest, along with all the aliases he knows his mom has used. 

“Not exactly.” 

“What does that mean?”

“How I got here doesn’t matter. I had to hop a ride,” Joe blithely avoids answering the question, which probably means he flew in on a cargo transport and was unlisted or caught a military transport as a favor. “I’m here to help.”

“Help how?” Steve doesn’t see how Joe can help. The whole reason they’re in this mess is because Joe helped get Wo Fat out of the hole Steve had left him in. The fury Steve’s been keeping a lid on threatens to boil over. 

“I’m declaring where my loyalties lie, Steve.”

Steve chews the inside of his cheek. He never got a straight answer of just how far back Joe went with his mother or if he’d only gotten involved with Doris because of Steve—which Steve doesn’t think is the reason. So what exactly is Joe declaring?  

“What do you mean?”

Joe sighs. “It means you’re one of mine, and he isn’t.”

“And what about my mother? What about her? Where’s she in this, Joe?”

Another sigh. “I made a mistake.”

The admission doesn’t lie well with Steve. It’d hurt to realize that Joe had helped get the man responsible for torturing Steve and his Ohana off and on for years out of prison. Joe’s had a front-row seat to how Doris McGarrett has twisted him up over the years and still hid her from Steve until he couldn’t. Steve had made Joe bring him to Shelburne and hadn’t told him in advance that it was his mom. 

Show, not tell, what is hard to believe—that’s what Joe had done. He’d never gotten out of Joe how long he’d known that Doris McGarrett was Shelburne. 

“How long did you know?” He asks before he can stop himself. 

“How long did I know what?”

“That my mom was Shelburne?”

The answer is immediate. “You remembered I served with your father?”

“Yes,” Steve snaps. He’s mostly oblivious to his audience, but Danny’s hand is like a brand that grips his bicep and grounds him like a lightning rod, allowing his anger to focus. 

“When your Dad got out, and I didn’t… there were a few things about your mom that tripped me up.”

“Such as?”

“She was always in the right place at the right time.”

“Did my Dad know?”

Joe sighs. “I’m… I think he suspected.”

“But you don’t know for sure?”

“No. Your Dad was a helluva detective.”

“You didn’t answer my question. When did you know?”

“I started digging when John was still alive. He’d messaged me when you were deployed on the mission where Freddie was killed. It.. I didn’t have confirmation until after John was killed—he left me a dead man’s trigger release of intel with Shelburne’s name and location. I went from his funeral straight to Japan. I wanted to finish his last case for him.”

“And you never told me?” Steve sniffs and wipes his face, his hand coming away wet with tears. Danny’s arm has migrated around his waist, and they’re alone—Chin and Buck are giving him privacy. He leans heavily into Danny, his back to Danny’s chest. 

“I wasn’t sure with your Dad dying like he had that you were ready for Doris.”

“You deliberately misled me. You tried to tell me you were Shelburne.”

“And I regret that,” Joe admits. “It was another mistake.”

“Why’d you do it then?”

“Your mother was a good friend back when you were young. I would fly in, and I got to pretend to be the fun uncle for a week every so often, and your mother always made me feel at home.”

“What, like you were having an affair?” He knows it’s wide of the mark as soon as he accuses Joe. 

Joe coughs. “No. I, uh…if I was going to have an affair with one of your parents, it was going to be with your father, Steve. Your mom had me clocked as in love with him the minute she met me at the bar with your father and told me as much.”

“You… you and my dad?!?” Steve is stunned. He never, ever so much as caught Joe looking at another man, and both of his ex-wives were stereotypical knockout navy wives who eventually had gotten sick of Joe never being home. 

“Your Dad never looked at me like that, and I was okay with it. I knew he didn’t love me like that. We were the best of friends, and that was enough. His family was my family.”

Steve wants to call bullshit, but it makes an odd sort of sense. Joe and his Dad had served at a different time when there were no openly gay service members. The Seal community still was pretty insular even if Steve did know a few guys who were married to each other, and Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell wasn’t too far in the past. 

“Your dad always had my back, and I had his.”

“So, where does my mom come in? Why help her?”

Joe chuckles darkly. “I started with the best intentions, and before I knew it, I was too deep to get out. I didn’t… I still don’t like what it’s done to your opinion of me, and I knew once you found out, you’d hate me for what I’d done, but I was trying to protect you.”

“I didn’t need protection. I needed to know the truth.”

“Well, now you know.”

Both of them fall silent, the truth weighing heavily between them.  

Steve’s thoughts churn with the revelation that Joe was in love with his Dad. Joe, who’d been both pseudo uncle and then commanding officer and pseudo father figure, was always there for Steve when he needed help, whether that was a couch to crash on or to call in an air strike. In many ways, Joe had been a better father for him as an adult than Jack McGarrett had been in his self-induced isolation.

What had Danny told him about Buck? That he had to let Buck make his own choices? That had been the gist of the conversation, and he’d taken it to mean that Buck would either stay in Hawaii or go back to LA, and Steve needed to support him either way.  

Was Joe… had Joe been doing the same? Not quite. He’d made mistakes which he admitted to, and he was here now, supposedly choosing Steve. 

“What do you mean you’re choosing me?”

“It’s always been you, Steve. I’ll pay whatever price Doris extracts, but she won’t get me to help her again. I shouldn’t have the last time or even the time before that.”

Steve doesn’t ask what other favors Doris has been extracting from Joe. He thinks he won’t like the answer he’ll get. 

“Say I believe you. What then?”

“I’m here to make things right. I’ll give you whatever I can.”

“Do you know where Wo Fat is?”

“No. If I did, I’d tell you.”

“Do you have a way of contacting him?”

“No—and I never have.”

“Do you know where Doris is?”

“Last I heard from her she was headed to China with Wo Fat. I don’t talk to her unless I need to.” It goes unspoken that it’s usually the other way around, that it’s Doris who usually wants something from Joe.

“Do you have a way of reaching her?”

“Not directly. Your mom—“

“Don’t call her that,” Steve interrupts. “She’s Doris.”

Joe doesn’t comment on Steve’s correction. “Doris doesn’t like to be easy to reach. I have an intermediary I can signal if I want to reach out. Do you want me to?”

“No.” Steve doesn’t want Doris sticking her fingers into this mess.  

“Okay. What can I do to help, Steve?”

He doesn’t know. Steve’s tired, and Danny’s bombshell of a meeting with Sang Min has given them a deadline. 

“Steve—use me. I will do whatever you ask of me.”

“Then I need you to turn yourself in. Take yourself off the board.” Steve can’t have Joe helping Wo Fat, and the only way to do that is to remove him from consideration as an asset. 

“Okay. How do you want me to do that?”

“Meet me at HPD.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in less than thirty.”

Steve disconnects the call, drops the phone onto the computer table, and then covers his face with his hands. 

“Babe?” Danny coaxes Steve to turn to face him. Danny’s brows are furrowed in concern, and his blue eyes are fiercer than a hawk diving with talons outstretched to catch its prey, the gel in his hair loose and curling in waves like a bird’s crest. “What’d Joe say?”

Steve wants to bury himself in Danny’s arms and never leave. He aches for the protection he knows Danny will give him, but he’s got too much to do and not enough time. 

We need to get over to HPD. I want Joe put in solitary, no phone calls or visitors until we have Kono and Eddie back.”

“Are you sure?” Danny asks for confirmation, tilting his head and making the light from the computer table catch the stubble of his five o’clock shadow outlining his jawline in gold. 

“Yeah. After… I’ll figure out later what to do.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Danny agrees, fishing out his phone and calling Duke to let him know to make space available. Danny doesn’t take his eyes off Steve the entire time he’s talking to Duke, nor does he release Steve, arm slung snuggly around his waist with fingers tangled in a belt loop to prevent Steve’s escape. 

He doesn’t move until he has to.  

***

The drive to HPD doesn’t take long, and Danny doesn’t let him go alone. They arrive only a few minutes before Joe does, carrying a single duffle, which he hands to Duke to lock up after making sure it’s just a couple of sets of clothing. The officers frisk Joe, and he’s stripped to his boxer briefs without issue, taking the jailhouse neon orange uniform without complaint. 

Steve watches, arms crossed over his chest, eyes dry and silent as Joe’s cell door is locked. Danny is just out of sight, standing watch as the uniformed officers leave.  

“Steve?” Joe calls, sitting on the hard bunk. 

“Joe.”

“I’ll stay here as long as you need me to,” Joe repeats his promise. He’s seemingly aged years since Steve last saw him a month ago, the lines around his eyes more pronounced, and his skin wind burnt. 

Steve doesn’t give Joe a time frame. By tonight, he’ll have his answer on whether Sang Min’s intel is good. “HPD will update me if you need anything.”

“I’ll be okay. I don’t need much.”

“Three meals and a cot?”

Joe cracks a smile, but it’s sad. “More than I need. I’ll be here. Waiting.”

Steve nods. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Steve turns to walk away when Joe calls his name again. “Steve? Be careful.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, Steve walks away. Danny falls into step with him, silent all the way to the Camaro that they’d driven over. “I’ll drop you at yours.”

“No,” Steve says as he takes the keys out of Danny’s loose fingers. 

“No, what, Babe?”

“We’re all staying at mine tonight. Buck probably already told Chin.”

“And how would he know to tell Chin?” Danny asks, exasperated. 

“SOP.”

“SOP?!?” Danny sputters, getting in the passenger seat. 

“Buck knows what to do,” Steve shrugs as he turns the key, and the engine hums to life. 

“Babe,” Danny protests, but it’s halfhearted. 

“We need to rest. I won’t sleep unless I know where all of you are, and we can set watch. Buck won’t either, and I suspect you won’t.” Steve’s very familiar with Danny’s insomnia. 

Danny opens his mouth to argue, then realizes that Steve is making sense, so he shuts it.  

Steve’s not lucky enough for Danny to stay quiet the entire way home but it buys him ten minutes.

“Are you sure?”

“About what?”

“About Joe,” Danny clarifies. 

Steve tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “No.”

“No, you’re not sure? Or just no?”

“I’m not sure.”

“About?” Danny pushes. 

“What I’m doing.”

Danny is silent for a heartbeat. “Well, that’s growth. You admitting you’re not sure.”

“Danny,” Steve warns, and Danny surrenders, holding up his hands. 

“I’m just surprised. Normally, you’d only admit that if you were half-dead.”

Steve shrugs. He’s got no answers for Danny. Steve braces for the actual argument—Danny has been winding up, but he hasn’t let loose yet with what he really wants. 

“Babe,” Danny calls, voice dropping into a softer register that is almost hypnotic when Steve is this tired. 

He wants to give in—he shouldn’t, but he desperately wants to. 

“Babe,” Danny tries again. “Steve.”

“Please don’t, Danny. Not tonight.”  

Steve’s unsure what he’s asking for, but Danny reads something on his face and changes gears. “You can take the last watch.”

“Danny—“

“You need to sleep. I’ll take the first watch, and Chin can take the second. I already know you and Buck will be going for a swim.”

Danny’s not wrong. Even if they will be running an op later, Steve and Buck will both have too much energy and need to burn some off to focus. However, Steve feels he should be protesting on principle as he turns onto Piikoi Street. “Danny—“

“No. No buts. You know I’m going to have a terrible time falling asleep. Let me keep watch over you for once.”

Steve hesitates. “Danny—“

“Babe.” Danny isn’t budging. In a contest of who’s more stubborn, Danny will probably win. 

“Fine,” he capitulates as he pulls into his driveway, parking behind his truck that Buck had driven. A twitch of the curtain tells him Buck is on watch, probably waiting to ensure Steve and Danny made it home. 

Danny doesn’t press his victory as they make it inside. Steve habitually checks the security system and arms it, going straight up the stairs with Danny on his heels. Buck is a silent shadow as he moves downstairs, checking every window and doorway. Chin a lump under a blanket on the couch so Steve doesn’t bother with the lights.

“Buck’s on overwatch,” Steve comments as Danny follows him into his bedroom, shucking his clothing and tossing them in the hamper. Usually, he’d think about showering off the day, but fatigue hits Steve like a ton of bricks, and his bed is calling his name. 

“Then I’ll tell him to go to bed.”

“Good luck with that,” Steve huffs, crawling under his blanket in just his boxer briefs. He prefers to sleep naked, but not tonight, as he still has the itch of hypervigilance under his skin that refuses to be tamed even with Buck’s and Danny’s presence. 

Steve feels like he’s on deployment, and it’s been a handful of years since North Korea, and that’d been unofficial. Buck had been part of the team that Joe had sent after him then, too. Steve hadn’t told Danny then that the only reason he’d slept in the hospital was because Buck had been on the bodyguard rotation along with Hondo when Danny wasn’t there. 

He presses his face into the pillow, wanting to shut out everything momentarily. 

The sound of Danny’s footfalls is accompanied by the sound of clothes rustling before there’s a dip in the mattress.  

“Danny?”

“Move over. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

Shuffling to the side so he’s not taking up the entire bed, Steve turns to face Danny. Danny’s in his undershirt and boxers, punching the extra pillow into submission until he’s satisfied with its shape, and lays down facing Steve.

“Goodnight.”

Steve replies in kind, unsure what else to do. “‘Night, Danno.”

“There you go calling me Danno,” Danny whispers, his hand moving to card through Steve’s hair, nails scratching at his scalp. The unexpected touch has Steve closing his eyes and leaning into it as it’s repeated, a tingle going down his spine as Danny finds the right spot to make his muscles melt and the tension disappear. 

He’s out before he knows it. Danny’s hands are magic, and the sandman pulls Steve under. 

***

You better bring your buckets

We’ve got some dreams to drain

And I’ll be at the bottom 

I’ve been right here waiting so long

Just waiting so long

Danny

They rarely share a bed. Over the years, it’s only happened a handful of times, yet it always surprises Danny that Steve turns into an octopus as soon as he’s out. It shouldn’t, given that Danny’s convinced Steve’s half-fish with how he seems to end up in any body of water bigger than a puddle on a near-daily basis. 

The day they find a pool, stream, ocean, or bucket of water, Steve doesn’t want to go in; Danny will check to make sure an alien hasn’t replaced his partner. 

Back to Steve-the-bed-octopus, who is asleep between one breath and the next. He throws an arm and leg over Danny and traps Danny in bed with him because, if Steve’s asleep, Danny daren’t wake him. While Steve has the annoying ability to sleep anywhere at the drop of a hat, he also tends to wake up at the slightest noise. Years of traveling to hostile territories have ingrained in the man to be ready to be up and fighting in a second. 

Danny hates what life has done to Steve and Buck.  

Speaking of Buck, the kid silently ducks his head into the room to check on them and then gives Danny a thumbs up and grin wide enough that the moonlight from the open lanai window flashes on before making a rude gesture simulating a carnal sex act.

Danny flips the kid off, which makes Buck’s grin widen, but he does leave them alone, closing the door carefully to give them privacy. 

They don’t need privacy, thank you very much. However, Danny will take the quiet so Steve can sleep. 

The house is silent except for the creaks of the roof from the wind over the water. The waves are gentle tonight, the cyclic breaking of them soothing. Every other night he’s stayed at Steve’s, he’s needed his noise canceling headphones due to their constant din… but not tonight.  

Danny feels oddly content tonight with Steve wrapped around him like a child with their favorite stuffed toy. If he were to close his eyes, he’d drift right off because he’s warm and safe, and Steve is here. 

Instead, Danny fights Morpheus’s pull. 

Had he done the right thing by meeting with Sang Min?  

He thinks so. They’ve not had any other leads, and in the past, Sang Min has come through for them, even if he bolted right afterward. Raissa’s assessment of her husband’s sense of honor is weirdly similar to Danny’s, which is annoying. 

Danny is nothing like Sang Min, except maybe that he values family over everything else. 

It probably says something insane about him: he considers Steve and the rest of the 5-0 family more than his blood relations back in Jersey. Other than Grace and Charlie, Steve comes before even his mother. 

Danny scowls at the ceiling, and Steve mutters in his sleep, snuggling right into Danny’s right side and poking his nose into Danny’s neck. 

“Shh, Babe.”

Steve settles with a single “Danno” that’s partially whispered into Danny’s ear, lips tickling the sensitive skin and sending a shiver down Danny’s spine to interest his cock that Steve’s thigh is nestled into. 

He is not getting hard by being called Danno, the name his kids use. 

He refuses. 

Steve does a little wiggle, wedging his thigh higher and providing a bit of friction as the cotton of Danny’s shorts rubs against his awakening erection. It’s too dry, but Danny has not gotten laid in months. 

Fuck. 

Danny breathes in and out through his nose, fighting the urge to rub one out against Steve’s thigh. 

He will not come in his shorts. 

He’s too fucking old for that. 

Steve’s thigh hitches just a bit higher, and Danny’s cock gives a happy little spurt of precome. 

Danny will deny the noise he just made to his dying day.  

Super Seal, meanwhile, is still out like a light and hasn’t let up his iron grip on Danny. Steve’s weight pins him to the bed, and while Danny could wake Steve up, there’s no way Steve’s not going to notice the growing wet spot on his thigh. 

Danny is trapped, and it’s both heaven and hell.  

He’s had a lot of dreams that started like this in bed with Steve. Or it ended like this: Steve’s body hard against his after they’d wrestled each other amongst the sheets. Danny’s thought about his for years, his imagination fed by Steve, whose allergy to clothing is well known. All those tats stretched over muscles and that tan line on Steve’s hips that shows up when his board shorts slip just a little bit and how Danny’s fingers can fit into the adonis belt grooves that Steve maintains with his insane workout schedule.  

Yeah, Danny’s had some impure thoughts about his partner. Who hasn’t?

If it were just lust, he’d have made a play to tumble Steve years ago. 

But it’s not just lust.  

For all his bluster, Danny is well aware of how much he loves Steve, and he’s never wanted to chance the most important adult relationship he’s ever had, other than the mother of his children, on a roll in the proverbial hay. Steve has never so much as glanced at another man in Danny’s presence, and the one thing the women in Steve’s life have in common is they’re all gorgeous with legs for days and tiny little waists topped by breasts that would make a Victoria’s Secret model jealous in addition to being competent badasses.

Steve’s type is out of Danny’s league, and while Danny will argue he’s got a great hair game going on atop his head, he’s also short and lacking in the chest department with some extra equipment between his legs. This doesn’t even mention that Danny’s what his mother would call a bad bet as he’s got an ex-wife who took most of his life savings in the divorce, and the rest are all earmarked for his kids. He’s not as big of a flight risk as he used to be, but if Grace doesn’t stay on the islands for college, Danny’s open to moving back to the mainland even if he can’t talk his monkey into Rutgers. 

On the other hand, Danny worries he’ll be cramping Grace’s style if he follows her… which means he’ll get left behind. Charlie is a blank slate still, too early to tell what he’ll want, but Danny’s not an idiot, and his son has had a much more privileged life than Danny could ever give him by living with Rachel and Stan. He loves his son but worries that when it comes to competing with Stan, Danny’s only ever been the loser. Even Grace occasionally chooses to do something with Stan over him, but it’s rare as she’s getting more independent the older she gets. 

Steve’s arm tightens around Danny, and the six-plus feet of navy seal wrapped around Danny tightens like a boa constrictor, and Danny’s hip meets Steve’s groin, effectively cutting off the circuitous self-pitying thought cycle he’d been stuck in. 

Danny’s been too busy freaking out in his head that he’s missed one critical detail. 

Steve’s as hard as Danny is. 

“Danny,” Steve murmurs and nuzzles into Danny’s neck, and if Danny’s not mistaken, kissing him hard enough that Danny’s going to have a bruise an inch below his ear. 

You know, like a hickey. 

Danny’s a good ten years too old to be walking around with a hickey. 

Steve is hard and keeps saying Danny’s name, and he’s kissing him? Two plus two equals four, right? Steve is hard, plus saying Danny’s name while doing the sleep horizontal tango equals… 

Equals Steve dreaming of him?!? Having a sex dream about him?!?

Danny should be forgiven for the way his brain freezes at the thought of Steve being sexually attracted to him. Years of comparing himself bitterly to Stan have done a number on his ego because Stan isn’t that nice-looking, but Danny had lost his entire life to the man regardless. Putting himself out there when he didn’t realistically think he had a chance was terrifying, but now…

Now Danny is about to have the dirty laundry to prove that maybe he’s been wrong about a few things. 

“Danno,” Steve pleads with him, eyelashes fluttering as his eyes rove sightlessly behind closed lids. The hitch and grind of Steve’s clothed cock against his hip makes Danny’s temperature rise, and his fingers itch to touch. 

“Please, Danno…Please.”

This is intolerable. Danny has to do something.  

“Love you,” Steve slurs, and Danny moves before he can think twice. 

Twisting in Steve’s hold, Danny’s cock comes into alignment with Steve’s as the muscular thigh slides between his own, and Steve’s greater weight pins him. Steve’s nose is still tucked in the crease of Danny’s neck but the sharp teeth are nipping at the skin making Danny’s neck extend and offer more like one of his sister’s bodice-ripper romance novel heroines. 

He should push Steve off and talk to him—discuss this.  

Danny should. 

He really, really should. 

He’s not going to take advantage of Steve like this. When everything is over and Kono and Eddie are back safe and sound, he’ll do something. 

After all, he’s got relatively immutable proof against his hip that Steve will be receptive to discussing things. 

Wiggling out from underneath a Steve who’s determined not to let his bed captive escape is an exercise in restraint. Danny’s hard. Steve’s hard. There’s a lot of accidental bumpage and grinding, but Danny slides out from underneath Steve without coming and awkwardly hides in the en-suite off Steve’s bedroom.  

Staring at himself in the mirror, he’s flushed, and his jockeys are obscenely damp in the front where they stretch over his erection, and not all of it’s his—some of the wet is from Steve. There are too many people in the house, and Danny will lay money on Buck not being asleep yet, so he slicks his hand with a pump of hand cream and bites his lip as he thrusts his hand into his shorts. 

Two strokes and Danny’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep from calling Steve’s name, coming all over his hand and holding onto the sink so his knees don’t buckle as he rubs out the aftershocks until he’s spent. 

It’s the best orgasm he’s had in years, and he wants to clean up and crawl back into bed with Steve, but he can’t do that. He’d be too tempted to pull down the covers and Steve’s underwear to swallow him down, and that’s not….

That’s not how their first time is going to go.  

Vague ideas of wining and dining Steve wander through his thoughts. Steve doesn’t act like it, but he appreciates effort. Maybe a steakhouse or something so Danny can make double entendres about pieces of meat, enjoy a drink or two, and then, when he’s had enough liquid courage, yank Steve down for a first kiss. 

Danny should have kissed him in the helicopter right before Kono’s wedding. That was a moment for a first kiss. Something big and declarative so Danny can mark Steve as off-limits to greater Oahu. Never mind that they’d been twenty miles offshore—it’d been a moment, and then they could have gone to Kono’s wedding, and Danny could have made sure that Cath got the message that Steve was Danny’s, and they could have avoided that whole situation. 

Realizing he’s been staring at himself in the mirror with his hand down his pants, Danny shucks his underwear and washes his hands. Stealing a pair of Steve’s cutoff sweats, he gathers his and Steve’s dirty clothes and sneaks down the stairs, avoiding the fourth stair and its betraying creak.

The laundry is right off the stairs, and he loads the washer as quietly as possible, setting it to start in a few hours so he can shove everything in the dryer when he gets up. 

Buck is still awake, silently clocking Danny as he crosses the house to sack out in Mary’s old room, eyes following Danny until he closes the door. Mary’s old bed is a narrow twin, and the decor is dated, as neither Steve nor Mary has ever bothered to redecorate. Grace has occasionally slept in here after team barbecues went later than expected. The decor is suited to a teenage girl of the late nineties and early two thousands. The Backstreet Boys mock him from their place of pride over the bedspread emblazoned with their names.  

Danny faceplants, ignoring his cock, complaining bitterly about how warm and willing Steve was upstairs and wanting a second round. He tosses and turns for an hour or two before finally falling asleep, dreams filled with Steve and a gun that shoots pineapples at a comically tiny Wo Fat. 

***

Dreams to drain

Put them in a cage

Unlock the pain

And I’ll be here waiting

 

You fell asleep with the key

All your walls

Mean nothing to me

I know you’ll come back

To set us free

Buck

Buck falls asleep tucked into the kitchen corner, sitting atop the counter with his gun next to him and direct sight lines to the front and back door to cover the entrances. It’s an old habit from missions that he’d taken months to break himself of when he was in the fire academy and slides back into as if he never left it.  

He can’t count how many nights he dozed lightly as overwatch, riffle in hand, to wake up at the slightest noise or change in air pressure. His team had depended on him for security, and he’d never failed them. 

Steve is smart enough to go for Buck’s wrist and give it two short bursts of pressure, identifying a teammate and sticking his thumb into the safety, as Buck is already moving and bringing the gun to point into his former commander’s face.

Blinking as he identifies Steve, Buck is shaken, and he points the gun away. “Shit. Sorry.”

“Thanks for keeping watch,” Steve says instead of acknowledging the apology. “We’ve got three-foot swells moving in.”

It’s not an order, but Buck knows that Steve is asking if he wants to go for a swim. Wordlessly, he follows Steve, nabbing a pair of board shorts and changing in the outdoor shower cubicle while Steve grabs a pair of beach towels. 

The water is bracing as he dives in, arms already windmilling to pull him away from shore as his feet angle into points, and he kicks to give himself more propulsion. Steve matches him stroke for stroke as they head out, following their usual two-mile morning route.  

Each inhale, each slice of his limbs through water, shortens the time he’ll have to wait until he has Eddie back. Eddie’s name is a mantra that his heart beats, calling for the man who means everything to Buck. 

He needs Eddie back.  

He will get Eddie back. 

Tonight.  

Buck’s done waiting. 

He’s promised Christopher that he will bring Eddie home, and nothing will stand in his way. 

Eddie.  

Please. 

Eddie.

The swim wakes him up. It does little else other than waste a few minutes until he can retrieve Eddie from Wo Fat’s clutches. 

Chin and Danny have coffee and breakfast waiting on them when they climb out of the surf, dawn just beginning to light the horizon. The familiar mantle of the warrior from his navy days cloaks him as Buck washes up and dresses in tactical pants, a plain black t-shirt, and combat boots. He doesn’t bother shaving and shoves several helpings of scrambled eggs into his mouth without tasting them.  

He does have one thing he needs to do before they burn Wo Fat’s place to the ground. 

Checking the time, he knows that Christopher should be on his way to school. Buck’s tried to keep a schedule, but he needs to check in since he might not have time later, so he loads FaceTime on his phone and dials Christoper. 

Christopher answers in two rings. There’s some artifact because he’s in the car, strapped in the backseat of what Buck recognizes as Deacon’s SUV with road noise in the background. “Buck?”

“Hey, Superman.”

“I thought you’d call after school?” Christopher’s forehead wrinkles adorably, and his lower lip pops out in a pout, his concerned look a duplicate of Eddie’s. He looks so much like Eddie some days. 

“Yeah. I don’t know if I’ll be able to then, so I wanted to call early.”

“Is something happening?” Christopher’s anxiety ratchets up, and Buck curses himself inwardly for stressing histheir Eddie’s kid. 

“Yes. I… I can’t call later because I’m going to get your dad back.”

“Really?!?”  

“Yeah. Really. We… we know where he is.” It’s a small lie, misleading, but he will know as soon as Sang Min fulfills his promise. 

“Where is he Buck? Where’s Dad? Is he okay?”

“As far as I know, your dad is fine. I just need to get him from the man holding him.”

“Where?”

“Up on the North Shore.” That’s what Danny had said. They were closer now than they had been in weeks. 

Christopher’s pout deepens, and he repeats his question. “Is Dad okay?

“I think so, Superman. I know he got banged up a bit when he flew to Hawaii, but I’ve been told he’s okay.”

“The bad guy hasn’t been hurting him?”

“No,” Buck denies, vowing silently that Wo Fat better not touch another hair on Eddie’s head, or there won’t be enough of him left to identify when Buck’s done with him. “The man who told us where to find your dad said he was okay. They haven’t let him come home, but he’s okay.”

Please be okay, Eddie, he prays to whatever Hawaiian god or goddess might be listening. 

Christopher is silent, chewing on his lip just like Eddie tends to do when he’s thinking.  

“Christopher?”

“Be careful, Buck. I want you and Dad to come home.”

“Always, Superman. I’m always careful.”

“Dad says you have his back, and he has yours.”  

“We do.”

“Then you will come home? With Dad?”

“Yes.”

“Will you have Dad call?”

“As soon as I can get him a phone.”

“I miss Dad. I miss you.”

“And we miss you, Superman.”

“You have to be careful,” Christopher’s voice breaks at the end, and he gives a sniffle that makes Buck ache to wrap him in the biggest hug. Christopher’s been so brave through all of this. “Do I have to go to school today?”

“I think it would be best. Otherwise, you’ll just worry.”

“I’ll worry anyway,” Christopher grumbles with another sniffle, wiping at his face. “You have to come home, Buck.”

“I will, Superman.”

“And you’ll be careful?”

“Always.”

“With Dad?”

“Of course. In the meantime, you stick with Deacon.”

Christopher rolls his eyes. “Yes, Buck. Uncle Deacon doesn’t let me out of his sight unless I’m with Aunt Annie.”

“Uncle Deacon?”

“It was weird calling him Mr. Deacon, and I think Dad would be okay with it. I call Aunt Hen, Karen, Athena, and Maddie my aunts, and we’re not related, so Mrs Annie is Aunt Annie now. Uncle Deacon’s not your captain like Captain Bobby.”

“Good point.”

“I can’t call you uncle, though.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re Buck, not my uncle.”

Kid logic, Buck thinks fondly. Although, it would be pretty weird if Christopher started calling him uncle because he has designs on Eddie’s body that would be inappropriate if they were related. 

“I’ll have your dad call you,” Buck repeats his promise, trying to imbue the words with enough willpower that they can’t possibly not come true. 

The sound of the school bell ringing is distant.”I have to go.”

“Have a good day, Superman.”

“Love you, Buck,” Christopher says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’ll talk to you tonight with Dad.”

Christopher’s serious expression is pure Isabel Diaz as he waits for Buck to hang up first.“Of course. Love you too, Superman.”

“Bye, Buck.”

“Bye, Superman.”

The screen returning to his lock screen picture of a smiling Eddie and Christopher at the zoo has Buck noisily sniffling. Christopher is so brave.

Buck spends five minutes looking at that picture before getting on with the prep work for the mission.  

***

Waiting is torture.  It always feels like it’s the breath held as you peak on the roller coaster, anticipating the drop and the scream as you accelerate, stomach left behind and holding on for dear life. 

Hawaii’s tropical environment isn’t helping and the humidity hangs like fog in the afternoon heat this far inland.  Buck’s been deployed in a few places where the heat sticks to you like this and every time he turns around he expects to see one of the ghosts from his past and so is Steve from the way he’s changed his load out to match Buck’s, his mission scowl in place.

Outwardly, Buck is calm under the plain black ball cap he’s wearing to hide his blonde hair, a pair of tactical glasses hiding his anxious eyes.  He’s strapped for the apocalypse as is Steve, Danny and Chin.  The heavy, immovable weight of the bullet proof vest is tight around his torso even though the straps have some elasticity to allow him to breathe, the mic at his throat a persistent reminder every time he swallows spit and the hiss of a comm in his ear as Chin checks that they’re online. 

Both of his thighs are wrapped with holsters, a 9mm on the right, a string of extra ammunition clips on the left. Buck’s got fistful of flash bangs, a half dozen grenades and ammo clips in every pocket and then some, ready to start a war if needed, or rescue one stubborn Texan who managed to get nabbed in broad daylight in the middle of LA instead of halfway around the world. 

Buck’s HK416 hangs across his chest from it’s strap, an old and comforting friend in situations like these and a k-Bar snug in its sheath at his back, ready to silence any sentry he comes across. They’ve already discussed ROE but Buck doesn’t care.  He’s got one goal and he has pretty brown eyes, a beauty mark on one cheek and a tattoo on his arm that reminds him to keep going.

Fortalecer la mente y superar el cuerpo. 

Rubbing his face, he takes the proffered water bottle when Danny hands him one. Based on the limited intel, they’ve narrowed down where Wo Fat might be holding Eddie and Kono. It can’t be in any of the more populated areas as something would have been noticed, so they know they’ll be going away from the shoreline. The North Shore encompasses most of northern Oahu. There are a lot of dense forest preserves and even farms up here, with only one resort, Turtle Bay. 

Somehow, Buck doubts Eddie’s being kept captive on a golf course, but there’s a first time for everything. 

Eddie doesn’t even like golf. He’s complained on more than one occasion that it’s like watching paint dry to watch on TV, and the only point of playing is going to the clubhouse for overpriced beers afterward. Buck knows most of this is from the one summer that Eddie’s mom made him get a job at the local country club as a caddy instead of playing baseball like he had the summer before. The lack of baseball playing had turned Eddie against golf, and lugging around heavy bags had increased the aversion along with the paltry tips and wandering hands of the cougars who’d seen Eddie’s fresh-faced teenage self as fresh meat. 

Buck knows all about country clubs. He’s worked at them, too, and doesn’t blame Eddie for his aversion. Too much old money hiding bad habits and terrible treatment of anyone not born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Buck’s parents belonged to the local one in Hershey, which was telling in and of itself. 

They’re all idle, waiting on a phone call. Raissa—Sang Min’s ex-wife—had given Danny an unlabeled map to plan with, but she hadn’t given them coordinates or an address. That would come from Sang Min. 

So they wait. 

All dressed up and ready to party, as Freddie would have said. They were just waiting on their dance partner. 

“We look like walking Guns & Ammo advertisements,” Danny says, breaking the silence. 

“Nah,” Steve replies, tone bland as he adjusts his thigh holsters so they’re not riding up into his groin. “We don’t have nearly enough grenades.”

“We don’t need any grenades,” Danny argues. “I’ve got half of your favorite army surplus store hanging off me.”

“It’s a good look on you,” Buck teases as Steve automatically argues, “We’re Navy, Danno.”

“Don’t Danno me,” Danny grumbles as they all freeze at the sound of Danny’s phone buzzing in his pocket from a received message. Danny’s gloved fingers swipe to unlock the screen, and he frowns at whatever he sees. 

“Danny?” Steve prods. 

“I have an address.”

“Where?”

“It’s near Pūpūkea,” Danny shows Steve his screen. 

“Chin?” Steve calls, and the Hawaiian is already typing an address into a tablet, pulling up satellite photos and other information they’d borrowed from various agencies through favors. The address is almost in the forest reserve and relatively remote for Hawaii.

Ten minutes later, they’ve got a plan. The road that approaches the set of old buildings is winding, and there’s a lot of forest cover on the makai side before giving way to sugarcane fields. There’s also no good access from the mauka side and being dropped from a helicopter would be noticed as the elevation change is steep and there isn’t enough cover. They’ll have to make ingress via the access road on the makai side and cut through the forest and fields. 

Chin is prepared, and they add machetes to their gear and fill up their water bottles. Backup is called and ordered to linger in Pūpūkea, more than twenty minutes by ground out if they get pinned, and consists of two RA units (one for Kono and one for Eddie, if needed) and about twenty police officers that Steve and Chin have vetted with Duke leading them. 

The weather is not looking good, and rain clouds are gathering. Experience reminds Buck that hiking through the jungle while it’s raining is a muddy, curse-filled odyssey. Still, he’ll take the bad weather discouraging any lookouts from paying attention.  

The highway is busy as they make their way to Pūpūkea, beachgoers packing it in as the weather turns. They go past some of the best surfing spots in Hawaii before turning inland, traffic thinning out as a light drizzle encourages all the tourists to head for their evening plans early.

They leave the van parked behind a copse of trees about a half mile from the address they’ve been given, the brush hiding it mostly from the road, and they set off on foot as the drizzle intensifies. 

“Visibility sucks,” Danny complains from somewhere behind Steve. 

“Yep,” Steve agrees absently from about twenty paces to Buck’s right. “Keep chatter down.”

It doesn’t take long to spot their first lookout. He’s huddled miserably just off the road in a makeshift rain shield made out of a coat tied between trees. Steve gestures for Buck to take him out, so he sneaks up behind the man, listening to the hiss of the man’s radio. There’s some idle chatter in what sounds like Cantonese to Buck, and the man doesn’t have the radio in his hand but by his feet, as he smokes a cigarette, eyes on the road. 

He never sees Buck coming, and he’s got the man’s mouth covered with one hand as he drives the man headfirst into one of the trees, making a dull sound as his forehead meets wood, which dazes him. Steve is behind Buck, snatching a loose hand that attempts to smack him with one cuff. 

The man’s teeth are ineffectual as he tries to bite Buck through his gloves, and Buck slams the man’s chest into the tree, allowing Steve to catch the other arm and cuff it, making the man hug the tree. 

Furious, the man attempts to scream, but Buck doesn’t let up his hold and kicks his feet apart, which knocks the sentry’s head into the tree a second time, shutting him up as he goes unconscious.  

Buck checks, and the man is still breathing but only momentarily dazed, eyes beginning to focus as Danny slaps duct tape over the man’s mouth. It’s not the cleanest takedown, but the man is neutralized, and they didn’t kill him. 

The radio has been kicked askew, and Steve grabs it, listening. “Nothing’s changed. Keep going.”

They deal with two more sentries similarly; the third one left out cold and hogtied to a tree, same as the first, while the second one angrily curses at them from behind his duct-taped mouth. 

Buck is drenched to the skin, and he’s lost his glasses as he couldn’t see the tree roots that kept trying to trip him with them on. The red Hawaiian dirt clings to his boots like clay, making slipping a genuine concern, but he doesn’t care because he can see the ramshackle buildings Eddie’s being kept in. 

Hunkered down in a thick tangle of grass and sugar cane, they scope out the collection of buildings. Some are in better repair than others. The primary construction material is cinderblock concrete--quick and easy to haul up the road.  

“Looks like something from the fifties,” Steve comments. “Probably an old staging ground for the pillboxes, and there should be a tunnel underground for storage.”

“The army built this?”

“Probably. The other ones I know of haven’t been used since the early eighties.”

“So squatters rights?”

Steve shrugs, and Buck supposes it doesn’t matter. The forest is a federal preserve, and they’re right against the border. 

As they watch, three men come out of a doorway, turn to the right towards a couple of trucks parked at the end of the road, and climb in. The engine starts, and they turn around and drive down the road. 

“Fuck. Shift change,” Buck swears, glancing at his watch that says it’s almost 1800. 

“We gotta move. They’re going to find the first guy in two minutes. Buck, you and I will take the side door on the right. Chin and Danny, cover us.”

Jogging across the small yard to the side door, Buck tries the handle, but it doesn’t give. “Locked.”

Steve, pressed against the side of the building, grimaces. “We bust it in, and someone’s going to hear.”

“They’re about to know anyway,” Buck points out, pulling a charge out of his cargo pocket and sticking the explosive to the door’s protected hinges and the lock before moving ten feet away. “Fire in the hole in three… two… one…”

The resulting boom is partially hidden by a rolling crack of thunder and the rain becoming a downpour. Buck and Steve are moving in concert, yanking the door open before anyone else can react and entering a long corridor that is dimly lit by bare bulbs, some of which are burnt out. The place smells strongly of dampness and mildew. Doorways line the corridor, and they’re all shut. 

Bang! Bang!

A crash follows the sharp staccato sound, but the echoing retort of what sounds a lot like gunshots makes Buck’s heart stutter in his chest. It’s coming from somewhere down the hallway, and he throws caution to the wind, vaguely aware of Steve swearing behind him. 

“Eddie?!?” EDDIE?!?”

There are too many doors. Which one had the shot come from?  

Bang! Bang!

Those are definitely gunshots, and Buck is losing what grip he has on his sanity. “Eddie?!?”

“You take the doors on the left; I’ve got the right,” Steve orders him, and Buck unthinkingly follows, years of doing what Steve says overriding the tidal wave of panic crashing down on him. 

Buck rips open the first door he comes to—a bare cement box—and moves on to the next. Every beat of his heart, every breath he takes is a mantra of Eddie’s name. 

EddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieWhereareyou?!?

From out of nowhere, he’s rushed by a slender Asian man who shoots lets off shots recklessly that ricochet off the concrete blocks, adding dust to the mix of misery as Buck shoots back.

Distantly, he’s aware of Steve also returning fire and kicking in a door as the firefight devolves into a mess. Over comms, Danny announces he and Chin have located Sang Min and are coming in the front door. 

Buck shoots back down the corridor, and a scream tells him he got the guy, so he rushes forward. The guy is lying in a doorway, and the room behind him is set up like a break room and is otherwise empty. Pocketing the guy’s gun, Buck pats him down quickly. He’s still breathing, but there’s an expanding pool of blood beneath, so he cuffs one wrist to a shelving unit beside the door that’s filled with heavy boxes and keeps moving. 

Another three doors open, and there’s no Eddie. He runs into another one of Wo Fat’s minions and knocks the guy out with the butt of his rifle before finding what appears to be a prison cell. There’s a discarded overshirt that he knows is Eddie’s atop one cement bed and a bucket in the corner, but no Eddie or Kono. 

“Eddie?!?” He tries again, and there’s no answer. 

Bang! Bang!

The gunshots are closer, so he keeps going, turning left at the end of the corridor, where there is another door that opens when he kicks it. 

He’s found the right room, and the warm brown eyes he’s been looking everywhere for lock onto his and pull him across the room in five leaping steps to get to Eddie.  Words fall from his lips mindlessly as he cups Eddie’s face, assessing him for injury and then Buck’s being tugged closer so he willingly goes. 

“Eds—hmph!”

***

Run, my dear son

Until we get to the trees

And then keep going all the way

We’ve got to get right down to the sea 

We’ve got to get to the sea

Oh, my dear son

We’ve got to get to the sea

 

Don’t you touch the water

Don’t you barely breathe

And if you see yourself looking back at you

You’re gonna have to leave

You’re gonna have to leave

I don’t want you to go

But you’ve got to leave

Eddie

Another day, more hours of boredom in his musty and moldy cell. The boredom stretches on and is intermittently broken up by food deliveries approximately twice daily and whatever topic either of them can think of to discuss. Eddie feels like he knows Kono better than he does his sisters at this point. She’s a fierce woman, and he’s promised they’ll stay in touch after getting out of this hole. 

The problem is, how are they going to get out? Kono has unbreakable faith in her boss and Buck’s former commander, Steve, along with the rest of 5-0 and even Buck. Eddie has faith in Buck, never giving up on him. Combined, they know it’s a matter of time until they’re either used as bait or Wo Fat goes through with his threat to eliminate Eddie to make Buck leave Steve. 

Not that Buck will do that. Buck isn’t someone who leaves people. Eddie knows this. Has proof of this in his son. Buck never gave up looking for Christopher in the Tsunami and won’t give up on Eddie, not with how they talked to each other right before Eddie got kidnapped. 

Eddie and Kono have racked their collective brains about how to rescue themselves, but there’s not enough in their cell for them to hatch a prison break, and Eddie’s a bit too big to fit through their windows even if they could remove the bars. Rushing their guards is too risky unless they have no choice, as they’re both run down from insufficient food or water in the sweltering heat. 

Conditions have been deteriorating slowly. Their bucket toilet hasn’t been emptied in two days, and Kono has draped the remains of her shredded shirt over it to dampen the smell. Eddie’s gone mostly nose blind to the smell, and he’s sure he’s pretty ripe himself, as neither of them has bathed in a week. 

Eddie hasn’t been this dirty since he was deployed to Afghanistan, and that’s saying something since he’s a firefighter. The amount of grime and smoke he occasionally gets dunked in can be pretty terrible, but his scalp itches, and his clothes are stiff from constantly sweating. 

Kono is more miserable than he is. Eddie has used his very rusty hair-braiding skills to pull her hair up every morning, tying the end with a scrap of her shirt. Adriana and Sophia would be horrified at the job he’d done the first job, but he’s been getting better. Today’s is a passable single-strand braid. 

Their usual boredom is broken up unexpectedly by a second food delivery mid-morning.  

This is a deviation from their pattern, and it’s Sang Min. 

“Hey Spicy! Good morning!”

Kono silently glares daggers at the exuberant man.

“Awww, Spicy, don’t be like that,” Sang Min cajoles. “I brought you an extra special treat and some wipes.”

Eddie feels nasty enough that he might not punch the asshole when he gets out of here. 

Might. 

Sang Min hasn’t come alone. There’s another man behind him, and the machine gun he holds keeps Eddie where he is on his piece of concrete block. Kono grudgingly gets off her bed and joins Eddie, sitting beside him as Sang Min grabs their toilet and places a clean bucket in its spot, shoving the other one out the door. 

“I’ve got wipes, some shampoo—ooh, it smells like coconut. I know that’s your favorite, Spicy. I also got some toothpaste and those mini bottles of mouthwash. I brought five spearmint ones because they had zero peppermint, so I hope that’s okay.”

Kono goes still as a statue next to him, holding her breath. “What?”

Sang Min has been emptying the new bucket of its goodies. “I’ve got five of the spearmint flavor because they were out of the wintergreen and peppermint. I talked to the guy behind the counter, Danny, who said they’d have more tonight, but I couldn’t wait. Sorry.” 

The playful frown Sang Min gives her is at odds with how serious his eyes are.  

Five and zero.  

5-0. 

It has to be a message. That’s the police unit that Kono works for that Buck has been with. 

Kono points her chin at the guy with the gun.

“Oh, don’t mind, Jun. He doesn’t speak much English,” Sang Min continues, reaching around the door to grab a shopping bag with more food and water—a whole six-pack of 2-liter bottles, which is more than they’ve been given all week. “I figured you need to wash up as we’re able to smell you on the other side of the door, and I said to myself, not my Spicy.”

“I’m not yours,” Kono growls, taking a breath and gripping Eddie’s knee hard to keep him from moving. Eddie reads her intention and stays put.  

“Oh, you break my heart, Spicy!” Sang Min hams it up further. “Clean up, and maybe I’ll give you a kiss?”

“Fuck off,” Kono snaps, her gaze flickering to Jun and then back to Sang Min.

With a waggle of his eyebrows, Sang Min exits with the silent Jun, the loud clang of the lock re-engaging as sharp as a gunshot. Kono holds up her hand, listening for their guards’ footsteps to fade. 

“Did you?” Eddie asks softly when he hasn’t heard anything for maybe a minute. 

“Yeah,” Kono agrees, moving to see what Sang Min has left them. Her cry of triumphant delight has Eddie joining her. 

“Is that?”

“Fuck yeah. Soap, and he gave us water.” The amount of swearing Kono has been doing has increased rapidly over the last few days. Being miserable in a hot cell makes things like social niceties slide. 

“No clean clothes, though,” Eddie points out, “and no towels.”

“Well, enough soap to scrub everything, at least.”

Eddie sniffs the bars of soap that are with the bottle of shampoo. It smells overwhelmingly of coconut, but he’s not complaining. “Fuck me. We’re going to smell like a walking tanning commercial.”

“I’m fine with that,” Kono says as she strips down to her underwear, and Eddie does the same.

“Stop. Let’s do your hair first. I’ll help so we use less water.” 

Two minutes later, Kono is practically putty in his hands as he scratches all the muck from her roots. “Oh god, Eddie. If I didn’t know you were completely gone on Buck, I’d leave my husband and marry you.”

“You love Adam,” Eddie protests. He knows Kono is kidding, but her worry over her husband has been a dark cloud hanging over them both.  

Kono stays silent as he pours the water over her hair, rinsing. It’s not until she’s rung it out that she quietly says, “I do. I hope he’s alright. He tried to put up a fight when they took me.”

“You said he’s a fighter. That he’s been through a lot before and came out okay.”

“Yeah, but I was there by his side. He had help.” Worry colors her words. They’ve had no news on how Adam is other than Eddie’s assurances to her that Buck had told him that Adam had woken up. Eddie had tried to downplay the severity of his injuries. Still, it was hard when he’d taken a lot of text messages and calls from Buck about various medical procedures when Buck played bodyguard in the hospital. 

“I just want to see him, Eddie.”

“You’ll see him soon. That asshole said—“

“Shh. We’re not talking about that. The walls,” she tugged on her ear, then smoothed a wet lock behind them. There’s no obvious surveillance in their cell but sounds travel through the door easily. “Do you need help getting your hair wet?”

“Yes, please.” 

They both wash up, scrubbing the accumulated grime off his skin feels wonderful before Eddie turns his attention to all his clothing, making an improvised skirt out of his overshirt that keeps Kono from getting an eyeful as he washes his underwear.  

He is right; the coconut is overwhelming, but he doesn’t care. It’s so much better than sweat and mildew.

“Tonight. He said tonight,” Eddie whispers to her when they retake their seats, waiting for their clothing to dry and munching on the sandwiches provided. 

“He did,” Kono agrees. “That he couldn’t wait for tonight. 

Eddie eyes the angle of the sunlight. They’ve got at least six or so hours to wait for sunset. “Take a nap if you can. I’ll keep watch.”

“Thanks.”

***

Morning slides into the afternoon, which seems to stretch on forever. Eddie and Kono trade off dozing, but by mid-afternoon, they’re both restless with anticipation as it begins to rain, the humidity becoming almost unbearable. The far-off sound of vehicles suggests someone arrived earlier, which isn’t unusual as there have been comings and goings for days with no discernible pattern. 

They get their afternoon/evening meal on time, and there’s no sign of 5-0. Kono’s mouth is pressed into a firm line as she chews savagely on her sandwich. 

“I don’t think I’ll want to eat another sandwich for years after we get out of here,” Eddie grumbles, trying to distract her. 

Kono snorts. “I’m sick of them too.”

“They are easy to give us, I suppose.”

“And cheap. Wo Fat is a cheapskate. Who knew?”

“I’ll bet he’s not even paying any attention to us,” Eddie snarks. 

The door lock clanks and swings open, and Wo Fat steps into the room, flanked by Jun and his machine gun and Sang Min. 

“I didn’t say his name three times,” Kono snarls and Eddie has to bite back an inappropriate laugh. 

“You summoned me, Ms. Kalakaua?” Wo Fat smiles as he enters their cell. 

“I most certainly did not.”

“Well, I have plans for us this evening. I have a message to send. Do struggle, please. Fresh bruises will send it even better.” Eddie wants to knock the bastard’s teeth down his smarmy throat but doesn’t. He believes Buck is on his way—he has to be. Sang Min had said tonight. 

Neither of them struggle too much as their hands are restrained behind them by cuffs. Jun—the guy who restrains Eddie, isn’t careful, and Eddie could attempt to grab his gun, but both Sang Min and Wo Fat are visibly armed, and he won’t risk Kono, who attempts to knee Sang Min for jokingly coping a feel, and he pushes her around. 

“Bastard,” she spits in Sang Min’s face before being pushed into the wall, her cheek rubbing against the uneven concrete block hard enough to skin it. 

“Not the face,” Wo Fat snaps at Sang Min, who carefully takes his weight off Kono and marches her out the door. 

Jun grunts and Eddie follows, carefully testing how secure the cuffs are. He is disappointed by how little give there is, the metal cutting into his wrist before he relaxes his shoulders and lets himself be herded out the door. The corridor is, as he remembers it, dank and gloomy. They go to the left at the end, and into the same area, his previous video was taken.  

Instead of the bolted to the floor steel chair, he’s thrust into a heavy wooden chair and another set of handcuffs are threaded through the chain between his hands and attached to the lower rungs of the chair which moves when he shifts his weight. Kono is duct-taped to the steel chair right next to him. 

“Make sure to tape her feet—she has a nasty kick,” Wo Fat instructs Sang Min, who follows directions, going to fiddle with the video camera. 

“Easy, Spicy,” Sang Min says, giving both of them a wink when Jun and Wo Fat can’t see and taps Kono’s arm with five fingers spread and then a second time with a fist. 

5-0. Another signal. Sang Min can’t be blowing smoke up their asses if he’s doing this repeatedly in different ways. Kono makes a big show of not being wholly cooperative, but she doesn’t nail Sang Min in the groin like she could have when he grabs her ankle and tapes it to the chair. 

Wo Fat makes a show of adjusting the video camera to ensure he has them both in frame and orders Sang Min and Jun around with two lights on tripods that are bright enough to make Eddie blink until his eyes adjust after being in a dimly lit cell for days. 

The rain is louder here, the roof made out of metal sheeting, adding a dull roar as it becomes a downpour. Eddie wonders what sort of havoc the rain is causing for 5-0. Maybe they’re delayed, perhaps they’re not. 

There’s a loud crash of thunder that booms overhead, making the roof rattle, separated from another partially hidden noise as it comes from somewhere on the other side of the building. Eddie’s been deployed. He knows the noise C4 makes when it’s used to blow open a door and has to hide a vicious smile.  

Buck’s here. 

Kono hears the noise, too, and she picks a fight with Sang Min, arguing with him. It’s enough of a distraction that Jun moves to assist him, sliding his machine gun on a strap to his hip closest to Eddie, saying something sharp in Cantonese. Eddie tests his cuffs, and the metal bites into his skin but doesn’t bend. He has a bit of slide on the rungs of the chair, but the cuffs are made from steel. 

Jun repeats something that sounds like a command, and Sang Min snaps back, looking at Jun over his shoulder. Kono takes this moment of distraction to head-butt Sang Min, and he goes down, hand holding his head with a shriek. 

Wo Fat barks a command, and Jun reaches for his gun, which has slipped to his back. 

Eddie can’t let him shoot Kono. 

Gripping the seat of the chair, he stands and whips it sideways and up, bashing Jun in the head, and he falls atop Sang Min, out cold, who helpfully clutches Jun, which allows Kono to stomp on the gun with her one free leg and kick it under her chair. 

Wo Fat shouts, “Stop!!” and lets off two warning shots into the ceiling, making Eddie’s ears ring, but he thinks he hears someone calling his name from far away. 

Standing, knees bent because he’s still attached to the chair, Eddie weighs his options. Wo Fat’s aim cycles between him and Kono. It’ll take him two or three seconds to cross the distance and rush the man, time enough for a shot or two. The cuffs bite painfully into his wrists.  

Sang Min had warned them, and he’s still squirming underneath Jun, seemingly unable to push the man off him as Kono’s foot keeps pressing down on Jun’s unconscious back to pin them.  

“Sit down,” Wo Fat orders Eddie. 

“No.”

“Sit down, Edmundo,” Wo Fat sneers, turning the gun on Eddie.  

“It’s Eddie. The only person who gets to call me Edmundo is my Abuela.” The cuffs didn’t give, the metal cutting wickedly into his wrists even more. 

Across from him, Kono’s eyes widen as they both hear a familiar male voice shouting Eddie’s name. “Eddie—“

Shaking his head sharply to cut her off, Eddie refocuses on Wo Fat as he takes a step closer to Eddie, gun aimed at Eddie’s face.

“Now, Eddie,” Wo Fat’s tone softens, but his face still betrays his snake-like nature, “don’t do anything stupid.”

Eddie waits for an opening, ignoring the words. 

Whatever has been happening outside is escalating, and the rat-tat-tat of a machine gun firing is near before a shriek of pain cuts it off. Wo Fat’s eyes dart to the door, and the tip of his gun wavers just slightly to Eddie’s left. Ducking, Eddie rushes the asshole. 

Wo Fat squeezes off a pair of shots, and Eddie’s ears hurt from the echo and proximity as he nails the bastard right in the solar plexus, sending them crashing backward into the camera and lights. Somehow, Eddie stays on his feet while Wo Fat lands with a crack as his head hits the concrete floor, gun arm smacking the ground and pointing away. 

Avoiding the kicking feet, Eddie uses the chair and his own momentum to bring the chair legs down like a battering ram, targeting Wo Fat’s head and chest. One, two, three strikes come away bloody as skin is broken, and Wo Fat wheezes, hand scrambling for the gun that he’d released with the first blow. 

Eddie can’t hear anything the man is saying; everything is muffled. Kono is saying something, and there’s more noise from outside, but Eddie is focused only on the man below him and making him pay for the worry and pain he’s caused. 

He lets loose—kicking and stomping on the asshole as he weakly attempts to scramble for the gun, managing to pull the trigger twice, but the bullets go through the ceiling, and Eddie knocks it back out of Wo Fat’s fingers, stomping down as hard as he can. The satisfying crunch of finger bones under Eddie’s shoes normally would have freaked him out, but that uncontrollable anger he’s been working on getting a handle on finally has a more appropriate target. 

The scuffle lasts maybe a minute—two at the most—before Wo Fat stills beneath his feet. The bastard is still breathing, but his face is a mess of bruises and cuts. Eddie had nailed the nose with the chair, and it is bent at an odd angle and bleeding. 

Staggering, Eddie falls back into the chair with a sharp bang that is transmitted through his bones, making them ache. He is vaguely aware of Kono calling his name, but all he can do is stare at the man who’d been holding them hostage—the bastard who’d threatened Christopher and Buck. 

Buck.

“Eddie?” Kono is worried as she pleads with him. “Eddie, come on—look at me?” 

He’s facing away from the door, so he doesn’t see who is there when it opens with a squeal. 

“Boss?” Kono’s excitement makes it through the haze surrounding Eddie’s brain. “Thank god. Took your time finding us!”

The noise of boots running and then a man is between Eddie and Wo Fat. It’s Buck’s commander, and he is in a tac vest and loaded for bear. The look McGarrett throws over his shoulder at Eddie is impressed even as he pats down Wo Fat efficiently, looking for weapons. 

Eddie would have watched further in his stunned state, except all his attention is suddenly commanded by Buck’s presence. Buck stands stunned in the doorway but sprints across the room until he’s in front of Eddie. His gloved hands are gentle as they cup Eddie’s face, his blue eyes are black with adrenalin, and he’s soaked to the bone underneath all the guns and gear. Eddie idly notes that Buck’s lips are petal pink as they move. Have they always been that soft looking? 

“Eds?” Buck calls, voice breathy and scared. “Eds? You with me?”

He nods because he can’t find his words, his brain still trying to process what just happened, and the haze of anger that had enveloped him is gone, leaving Eddie cold.

Eddie realizes he is shaking, but he can’t stop. “Buck?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Eds,” Buck speaks rapidly, hands looking for injuries and finding a few sore spots that make Eddie hiss. “Let me get you free.”

The feeling of the metal around his wrist releasing has him immediately grabbing for Buck, fingers latching into the loops of the tac vest to pull Buck closer. 

“Eddie?” Buck asks, confusion crossing his face as Eddie tugs insistently to close the gap between them. “Eds—hmph!”

Eddie claims Buck’s lips in a hard kiss. It’s not gentle, and he pours his adrenalin into it, mashing their faces together as he’s unable to hold anything back. Buck freezes for just a second before giving as good as he’s getting and stealing Eddie’s breath. He might have whimpered, or it might have been Buck whimpering, but it’s a happy whimper of joy.  

It doesn’t matter. 

Buck is here. 

Here and warm and kissing Eddie back. 

 

You fell asleep with the key

All your walls

Mean nothing to me

I know you’ll come back

You’re going to set us free

 

I don’t want you to go

But you’ve got to leave

You can always come to me

I’ll give you what you need

 

Run, my dear son

We’ve got to get to the sea

 

Song: To the Sea by Jack Johnson

Notes:

So they’re finally in the same place. Only took how many words?

We’ll be earning our rating for sex in the next chapter which hopefully should be out much sooner than the break between this chapter and the last. I meant to have this chapter out in December but changing jobs has really thrown my schedule out of wack.

Happy belated holidays (and I’ve totally thought of a Xmas 2024 sequel fic which means this fic will be complete in 2024).

Chapter 13: Debriefing

Summary:

In the aftermath of the raid, lines are crossed as the debriefing leaves Buck and Eddie exposed to each other. Meanwhile, Danny grows tired of waiting.

Notes:

Please note the change in rating of this fic (which is being earned in this chapter). If you would like to skip the (unrealistic) sex scenes, skip between ⚓️ markers for the McDanno parts and the 🌊 to the end of the chapter for the Buddie part.

 

After all of this time

After all of these seasons

After your one decision

To go to the water for reason

It’s only the ocean and you

 

Eddie

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Eddie clings to Buck while the rest of 5-0 makes short work of clearing out Wo Fat’s lair. Buck, for his part, seems just as reluctant to let Eddie go. Buck’s arm is wrapped firmly around his waist, and Eddie tucks himself up into Buck’s side, his fingers caught in the loops of the bulletproof vest. 

Eddie’s curious about all the attached pockets but doesn’t want to let go of Buck to check them as McGarrett and a man who must be Chin Ho Kelly work around them, commenting that Danny has called their backup in. 

Everyone is also manfully ignoring the bit where he and Buck are leaking from the corners of their eyes. If Buck doesn’t mention it, Eddie’s not going to, and the rest of 5-0 seems to have taken a cue from Buck. 

Danny Williams arrives in the room, and Eddie notices that the man’s attention first checks to ensure McGarrett is okay before taking in the rest. The blonde’s eyebrow raises when he clocks Eddie watching him but relaxes when Eddie shakes his head to indicate he’s fine. 

“Eddie?” Buck calls him, voice hoarse. 

“I’m okay.”

“Shit—you need to get checked out,” Buck stammers, and he starts to pull away, which Eddie hates, so he yanks on the tac vest, arresting Buck’s movement. 

“I’m fine,” Eddie growls, clarifying his statement. 

“No, you’re not,” Buck argues, and Eddie is carefully given a once-over that would make Hen proud. 

Eddie reluctantly complies with Buck’s checking his neuro exam and patting down his torso and limbs, annoyed by how he can’t hide his wince of pain when Buck checks his wrists, which are bruised from the restraints and the lump on the side of his head that could use some ice.

Neither of them mentions that Buck’s hands are shaking. 

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says softly when Buck checks his ankles, crouching down low enough that Eddie can rest his palm on the nape of Buck’s neck and gently squeeze it. 

Buck bites back a sob, and his eyes are red and irritated when he raises his head to meet Eddie’s gaze. “You almost weren’t, and it’s my fault.”

“Buck—“

Buck slides out from underneath Eddie’s hands, wiping at his nose before he can catch him. “Two RAs are coming.”

Eddie eyes Wo Fat, still noisily breathing through his broken nose. “It looks like there’s someone in worse need of their help than me.”

“Don’t,” Buck snaps. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie calmly repeats, but he can tell as soon as the words are out of his mouth that it doesn’t matter. Buck needs him to get checked out in a hospital, so Eddie will do it to make him feel better. 

Chewing on his cheek, Buck opens and closes his hands into fists several times before carefully picking his next words. “I need someone to double-check. Adrenaline could be hiding something from you.”

“I’ll get checked out,” Eddie drawls, “as long as you do too.”

Buck’s head snaps up, summer sky blue eyes wide. “I’m fine. I didn’t… I didn’t so much as get a scratch.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie agrees and points his chin at Buck’s forearm, where a bruise is blossoming. “Who hit you?”

Buck lifts his arm and looks at it perplexed. “It might have been when I bashed in a door?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You’re coming with me if I have to ride in an ambulance as a patient.”

Screwing up his face in distaste, Buck reluctantly nods. “Hospital. I… I need to make sure I kept my promise to Christopher.”

The mention of his son has Eddie’s eyebrows climbing. “What exactly did you promise him?”

“That I’d get you home safe and sound. Don’t make me into a liar, Eds.”

“Never,” Eddie promises him, and he means it with his whole heart.  

The scene is cleared for the paramedics, and Eddie is quickly cornered by a tiny Hawaiian woman who could be Kono’s twin, albeit probably fifteen years older and twice as stubborn. Leilani introduces herself and starts peppering him with questions before insisting he come with her to the ambulance as he’s going to the ER to get his head checked out. Eddie uselessly protests that he’s fine—his headache isn’t bothering him as long as Buck’s within arm’s distance. Still, Leilani won’t budge, and he finds himself sitting on the gurney in the back of the ambulance as it bounces down the uneven forest road. 

Buck is sitting up front with Leilani’s partner, not in the back with him.

“I am not distracting her from taking care of you,” Buck had said before climbing in. 

Eddie may or may not be burning holes in the wall between him and Buck—mostly because he wants to hold Buck’s hand. A particularly large bump in the road has Eddie holding onto the gurney instead. 

“Careful,” Leilani warns. “We’re almost to the highway, and it’ll be a smoother ride from there.”

“Which highway?” Eddie asks out of habit, needing to distract himself. He still isn’t sure where exactly in Hawaii he’d ended up. 

“The Kamehameha highway. It goes around most of the island.”

“So I am on Oahu?”

Leilani’s look sharpens as she hits the button to cycle the blood pressure cuff and it tightens around Eddie’s bicep. “Did you not know where you were?”

“No idea,” Eddie tells her. “I was guessing Oahu.”

“You are on Oahu—the North Shore.”

“So Kono was right. They didn’t take us too far.”

Leilani hums, seemingly satisfied with his blood pressure as the ride evens out. “You’re not from Hawaii?”

“Nope. They got the drop on me in LA, and I woke up on the plane. I wasn’t sure where they took me.”

“On the Mainland?”

“Yeah. I live in LA. I had never been to Hawaii before, but I’d thought about maybe spending leave here when I was in the army. It just never worked out.”

“Well, you should make the most of it before you fly home.”

“You know, I think I just might,” Eddie tells her, thinking of a nice kid-free walk on the beach with Buck. 

***

Queens Medical Emergency Room is bustling this time of night. Still, the ER doc in charge takes one look at Buck’s badge and rolls his eyes, muttering something about crazy cops under his breath and gesturing for Leilani to roll Eddie into a room immediately instead of turfing him to the waiting room. 

“You already know the ER staff?” Eddie jokes with Buck. 

“Uh, not me, but the rest of the team has been here a lot.”  

Buck’s words are accompanied by a loud greeting for Kono who the nurses at the nursing station flock around to her protest. Her ambulance must have been right behind Eddie’s. 

“I’m fine,” Kono says loudly but is ignored. Her dark eyes briefly meet Eddie’s, and she rolls them as they’re taken into separate exam rooms. 

A team of nurses and doctors descend on Eddie. He’s poked and prodded from several directions, and a tech draws blood from him while he’s distracted by a neurosurgeon swinging a bright light in his eyes, temporarily blinding him. His clothes are all cut away, and his dignity is preserved only by a sheet until a hospital gown is draped over his shoulders. 

Buck stays next to the door through it all, propping up the wall and watching him like a hawk. Whenever the questions get too invasive or the touch painful, Eddie’s eyes seek out Buck’s and hold them. The only time Buck leaves the room is when he’s told to for an x-ray, and he sneaks back in as soon as the tech moves the machine away from Eddie, having watched through the door window. 

Buck doesn’t move closer, though, when Eddie is mostly proclaimed stable—which he had already uselessly told them he was. 

“Buck,” Eddie calls, holding out his hand. Buck stares at the extended hand like it’s a snake, so Eddie shakes it, wiggling his fingers. “C’mon.”

Hesitantly, Buck crosses the five feet between them and takes Eddie’s hand. 

“I’m okay,” Eddie tells him again, squeezing their conjoined hands and tugging Buck closer. 

“I’ll wait to hear that from the docs,” Buck mutters, standing awkwardly beside the bed. “You had a neurosurgeon looking at your head.”

“Grab that chair and sit,” Eddie orders him, ignoring the bit about the neurosurgeon who hadn’t seemed too concerned. “I had a concussion, but it’s mostly gone.”

“You’ve got a new bump on your head,” Buck argues.

Eddie resists the urge to roll his eyes at Buck’s stubbornness. “Is it too late to call Christopher?”

Buck checks the time and pulls out his phone, handing it to Eddie. “No. I should have called him already, but he’s probably waiting since I told him I was getting you today.”

Eddie ignores the negative comment and quickly types in Christopher’s birthdate, which is Buck’s lock code and has been for almost as long as Eddie’s known Buck. Finding the FaceTime icon, he selects Christopher’s iPad number and hits dial, noticing that Buck has been calling Christopher at least twice a day for the last week. He doesn’t let Buck slip away, and he pulls him closer, so Buck’s face is also on camera as they wait for Christopher to pick up. 

Besides some bruising over the left cheek, Eddie doesn’t look any worse than he did when FaceTiming Shannon from Afghanistan, cheeks covered with a week’s worth of beard growth and hair sticking every which way. Eddie tells himself that Christopher has seen him looking worse after a hard shift. It’s more important for Christopher to see him alive and talking. 

When Christopher picks up, he’s obviously in bed, but Eddie doesn’t recognize the room, which is probably Deacon’s house. “Buck?” Christopher says sleepily before his eyes widen, and the screen gets knocked askew. “DAD?!?”

“Mijo,” Eddie says, and he has to swallow the sob of relief at seeing his son safe. 

“Dad!” Christopher rights the screen, and his face is smushed so close to the screen that he’s cross-eyed in the dim light. “Buck found you?”

“He sure did, Mijo.”

“Buck promised he would,” Christopher agrees, echoing Buck’s earlier statement. “Did the bad man hurt you?”

“Not really,” Eddie dodges the question and ignores the rigid way Buck’s hand jerks in his. “Buck got to me before he could.” Christopher doesn’t need to know about the bruises around his wrists and ankles or the slight ringing in his ears from so many gunshots at close range. 

“Your dad almost beat me to it,” Buck says, tone falsely cheerful. “He would have gotten himself out if I hadn’t shown up.”

“Daaaad,” Christopher giggles, the screen jiggling. “You’re supposed to wait for Buck so he can have your back.”

“He did have my back,” Eddie argues playfully before sobering. “And his friend Steve got the bad man, so we’re all good.”

“So you’re coming home? Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, Mijo. I’m getting checked out by the doctor, and then Buck’s friend Steve is probably going to have a lot of questions.” Eddie knows he needs to be debriefed and possibly make a statement, and he doesn’t want Christopher expecting something he can’t do. “I’m hoping only a couple of days, and then I’ll be home.”

“With Buck,” Christopher states as if it’s not a question, which Eddie knows it is. 

“Maybe, Mijo. Buck has stuff he has to get done, and then he’ll come home.” Buck’s grip on Eddie’s hand is crushing, but he doesn’t let go. 

“I… I’ll be home eventually, Superman.”

Christopher’s frown is a knife to the gut. “But you said you’d come home with Dad. You’ve been gone for a long time.”

“I have things I need to finish,” Buck explains without explaining, yanking his hand free of Eddie’s and stepping back out of camera range. “I’m sorry.”

“Buck—“

“Mijo,” Eddie interrupts before Christopher’s whining gets going, letting Buck retreat to the door. Buck hesitates with his hand on the door as Eddie says his name, head bowed. “Buck came here for a reason, and it’s not done. We don’t leave things half-finished, do we?” 

Eddie can only watch Buck out of the corner of his eye, but he knows Buck is still listening, head cocked toward Eddie. 

“No,” is the petulant answer Christopher gives. His son is very unhappy that Buck isn’t going to be home soon, and Eddie’s heart aches with his son’s, but he isn’t going to force Buck home before he’s ready. 

Eddie had made a promise, and he will keep it, no matter how the circumstances might have changed. He’s a man of his word. 

“Buck’s friend Steve still needs his help. When he’s done, he’ll be home. He’s still keeping his promise to come home, but I’ll be home first.”

Buck’s eyes look suspiciously wet as he turns toward Eddie. He points to the door and quietly sneaks out. Eddie can see Buck’s shoulder through the window, and Buck doesn’t move further, standing guard, most likely in some misguided attempt at giving Eddie privacy with Christopher that he doesn’t need.  

“Steve got the bad guys?” Christopher asks, seeking reassurance and unable to hide a yawn. It must be late in LA—later than Eddie usually lets Christopher stay up. 

“He sure did. You’re safe, Mijo.”

“Uncle Deacon and Aunt Annie have been taking good care of me, but I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Mijo.”

“I miss Buck too—even though he calls me a lot.”

“Buck misses you too, just like me,” Eddie adds. “When Buck comes home, I was thinking of maybe asking him to stay with us.”

“Can he?” Christopher lights up. “He could stay forever with us.”

“Maybe, Mijo. Let me work on him while I’m here, and then I’ll be home in a few days. You think you can behave for your Uncle Deacon and Aunt Annie until then?”

“I’m always good.”

Coughing to hide his laugh, Eddie playfully scolds his recalcitrant offspring. “Still, be extra good for me until I get home?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“You should get to sleep. It’s late there.” Eddie doesn’t want to hang up but knows he can’t keep Christopher up all night, either. 

Christopher yawns at Eddie’s reminder of the late hour. “Do I have to go to school tomorrow?”

“Yes. It’ll keep you busy until I get home.”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Goodnight, Mijo.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

Eddie doesn’t have time to call Buck back into the room before a pair of nurses come in to roll him to the CT scanner. 

“But I don’t need a CT,” he grumbles as they wheel him out, snagging Buck’s pant leg to pull him along.

“Eddie, let go,” Buck urges, but Eddie petulantly refuses. Eddie knows that if he lets go, Buck will leave for some ridiculous reason, and Eddie doesn’t want Buck out of his sight. The unnamed fear that he’s only dreamt of his rescue isn’t something he will admit to either. He can’t still be in that damp cell with Kono. 

“Tell them I don’t need a CT, Buck.”

“If the doctor thinks you need one, you’re getting it.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie argues. 

“That goose egg says differently,” one of the nurses points out. “Dr. Black says you need one to make sure you’re only bruised on the outside of your skull.”

Eddie scowls at the nurse but quiets down when Buck’s hand finds his. “His skull is too thick, but it’s better to make sure.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Eddie half-heartedly mumbles at Buck, whose lips lose some of the stern downturn at his joke. He remembers Buck’s deep dive into the ides of march and how much it’d irritated Acting Captain Chim when Buck had taught Eddie and Hen a few choice phrases from the Shakespeare play. That’d been before the truck bombing, and everything had gotten so messed up between them. 

The CT scanner uses radiation, so he does have to give up his grip on Buck’s hand a minute later, laying uncomfortably on the hard table of the machine as he’s strapped in with a safety belt across his torso and legs. 

“I’m not going to fall off…”

“It’s for safety,” Buck argues before retreating to the other side of the door where Eddie can’t see him. 

The machine is loud and makes clanking noises, but it’s thankfully a brief thing, as they’d only wanted to check out his head and neck instead of performing a full-body scan. Buck is there to help him off the table, but he noticeably winces when he sees the darkening bruises on Eddie’s wrists. 

“They’re fine,” Eddie assures him, but Buck soon is dancing out of range before Eddie can recapture his hand, and he stops outside the door of Eddie’s room, not entering it. 

“I’ll wait out here,” Buck mutters, looking anywhere but at Eddie. “You’re technically supposed to be under watch,”

“For what?” Eddie snipes and then regrets it immediately when Buck flinches. “Wo Fat’s not going to hurt me anymore. Not with the condition I left him in.”

Buck’s scowl is a foreign expression in its severity—Eddie’s never seen the hardness encasing the familiar features before, and it chills him to the bone. “Wo Fat will get a medical examination before he’s taken to lock up. I’m going to stay out here and make sure nobody gets too curious.”

Fuck. He’s chosen the worst thing to say, as usual.  If Eddie could take back what he’d said during the lawsuit…

“I need my phone back,” Buck says tonelessly, and Eddie gives up the device without protesting. 

***

The nurse gives him a warm blanket to wrap around himself while he waits for someone to read his scan.  Eddie falls into a light doze and is woken several times by the orthopedist and then again by the nurse and neurosurgeon telling him that he’s cleared to leave sometime around five AM local time.  

Each time he wakes, he reaches for Buck only to see the rigid line of his back through the tiny slit window in the door. Buck is never looking back at him, and Eddie knows he’s got his work cut out for him to knock whatever bullshit Buck’s been telling himself about Eddie being taken is his fault out of Buck’s thick skull. 

But first, Eddie needs Buck to willingly be in the same room as him. 

Danny Williams shows up at the time that Eddie is handed his discharge papers. Buck has disappeared in search of a wheelchair despite Eddie’s protests that he can walk out of the hospital. Eddie is irritable, hasn’t slept in what feels like ages, and wants a real shower. 

“Danny Williams—I’m a lieutenant with 5-0, which I’m sure you know.”

“I have heard of you,” Eddie admits as he shakes Danny’s hand. “Any chance you can get me a shower so I don’t smell like roadkill left out in the heat for two days?”

“Sorry, no can do. We need everything on you for evidence and then pictures.”

“For trial?”

“Yes. Assuming we go that route,” Danny mutters the last part, but he hands Eddie a set of hospital scrubs and allows Eddie to change in private, leaving his clothes, including his boots, in a large paper bag. He won’t wear his boots without socks, and Danny has provided a set of flip-flops that are the right size. 

“We’ll get you some regular clothes after the CSIs have their pictures, and you can use the showers at our headquarters. You signed the release, letting us use your records for the case?”

“Yeah. Where’s Buck? Did he have to go to LA for that wheelchair I don’t need?”

Danny snorts and smothers his laughter, ice-blue eyes dancing. “You give him a run for his money, don’t you?”

“I guess?”

Danny waves off Eddie’s confusion. “He saw me coming and hightailed it somewhere. He’ll be back once he’s talked himself into something possibly macho but extremely bullshit about you getting hurt.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Eddie repeats yet again, scowling at Danny. 

“That’s the attitude. Keep repeating it until he believes it. The kid is too much like Steve and needs to have his little brood session before you knock him straight. He was terrified for you, so let him have it now.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m sure you don’t need my lecture on the care and feeding of your Seal?”

“I know how to take care of Buck,” Eddie firmly states. He doesn’t need to be told anything to care for Buck as long as they’re talking to each other. If Buck keeps hiding from him, he might take an assist from Kono if she’s available, but he doesn’t know Danny, and McGarrett will probably be on Buck’s side in things and be unhelpful if he needs to pin his partner down. 

“Again, I’m sure you do. Just remember he’s a bit tender about you being kidnapped.”

“How could I forget,” Eddie says, pointing to the bruising on his face. It didn’t hurt since he was given some Tylenol and ice, but it was pretty spectacular looking in the glance he’d gotten in a mirror. 

Buck picks then to reappear with a wheelchair, and he pales at Eddie pointing to his bruises.  

“Buck,” Eddie calls, stopping him from disappearing again. He may play it up a bit how stiff he feels when he stands and hobbles to the wheelchair, making Buck hover. Give Eddie a few hours in the sun, a shower, and a nap, and Eddie will be good as new and ready to sit on Buck if necessary to make him listen to what Eddie has to say. 

“Let’s get the show on the road. The sooner we get your photo shoot done, the quicker we let you shower,” Danny reminds him as Buck pushes him out of the ER.  

The early morning temperature isn’t too warm as the sun hasn’t yet climbed over the horizon, and Buck’s hands are quick to help him climb into the front seat of the Camaro, which belongs to Danny. Buck folds himself into the back seat, practically having his knees up by his ears as he straddles the back seat, but otherwise, he is quiet. Danny, obviously used to being a tour guide, points out a few things as they drive through the quiet city streets. There are already people up and about despite the early hour, which Danny remarks is because they haven’t gotten used to local time yet when Eddie asks about the people sitting in a diner eating breakfast at just past six. 

“They’re probably from the east coast like me. It’ll take them days to get on island time.”

Eddie silently supposes this makes sense and keeps his eyes on the city. “Kalakaua? Isn’t that Kono’s last name?”

“Yeah. It’s named after the last king of Hawai’i—Kalakaua.”

“Kono related to him?” Eddie asks, and Buck sputters in the back seat. 

“Not that she admits to it, but her family is pretty big, so who knows? Royal names were taken up by members of their households as a way to honor them.”

“5-0 headquarters are in the ‘Iolani Palace,” Buck adds from the backseat. 

“You’ve been working in a palace? I don’t think you mentioned that.”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, it was? It’s mostly just offices now.”  

The building that Danny parks in front of is suitably impressive and palace-like, with a gold-colored statue out front of a Hawaiian king with his arm raised and fresh leis around his neck.  

“Who puts the flowers up there?” Eddie asks. 

“Oh, anyone and everyone. Some locals do it, and sometimes tourists add their lei to the collection.”

“Oh,” Eddie says as he levers himself out of the car. 

“This way,” Buck says, biting his lips and watching Eddie’s steps like a hawk. The hovering is cute, if unnecessary, and Eddie doesn’t call him out on it.

They take an elevator up and are met in the offices by a forensic tech who introduces himself as Eric and is Danny’s nephew. “Uncle called me and said to get my ass out of bed, so here I am,” he says with a thick Jersey accent, looking like he did just roll out of bed with his hair all matted on one side, the pillow fabric creases not yet gone from his unshaven cheek. 

“Eric,” Danny growls, and they move to a better-lit corner of the office for Eddie to take off the borrowed scrub top and Eric uses the white wall background and a measuring tape tacked to it to take pictures of the circumferential old bruises around Eddie’s wrists as well as his feet before tilting his head this way and that while Eric documents the bruises, the small cut above his left ear, and the fading goose egg at the back that only hurts when someone pokes at it. Accepting the bag of clothing that Danny has brought from the hospital, Eric says he’s done with Eddie. 

“Is Kono all right?” Eddie asks, noticing that nobody else is in the office.

“Yeah, Eric did her first thing last night at the hospital. She’s staying in the same room as Adam while Chin stands guard at the door.”

“Ah.”

“Buck, you want to show Eddie to the locker room so he can shower? I grabbed one of Steve’s unopened packs of shirts and a pair of cargo shorts that should fit him.”

“He is about the same size as Steve,” Buck admits begrudgingly. 

Eddie doesn’t comment. He just wants a shower. 

Buck drags his feet before gesturing for Eddie to follow. 

***

The locker room is perfectly utilitarian, and that’s fine with Eddie. Buck awkwardly stands around after offering Eddie his shower bag. He then firmly sits on the bench and pulls out his phone. 

Eddie can take a hint.  

The shower is heaven—perfect water pressure and enough heat to boil him alive mixed with using Buck’s soap, which means Eddie smells like Buck after scrubbing himself head to toe. It’s fresh and vaguely woodsy without being overt, and in the steam of the shower stall, Eddie revels in being surrounded by heat and Buck’s smell, releasing the tightness in his chest. 

He’s made it out.  

Buck found him. 

Taking a deep breath, Eddie starts scrubbing himself a second time, luxuriating in the feel of the soap gliding over his skin until he’s pink and his fingers and toes have gone wrinkly. Reluctantly, he turns the water off and wraps a towel that is too small around his waist before padding out to the sink. Using Buck’s toothbrush, Eddie scrubs his mouth until he can’t taste anything other than mint and has lost the gritty feeling. Eddie doesn’t shave since putting pressure on his cheeks over the bruises sounds like a bad idea, but he does comb and gel his hair with Buck’s supplies before using his lotion to moisturize, starting at his neglected feet. 

Eddie needs a couple of hours to nap, preferably wrapped around Buck in a hammock or something equally tropical dream vacation-like to make a dent in his sleep deficit, but he has the feeling that it will be somebody’s couch at best and a hotel room at worst. He has zero desire to be further than twenty feet from Buck for the immediate future. Not until he’s had some rest, food, and time for his hackles to relax. Eddie’s been through this after his deployments, and if he can’t have cuddles with his son, he wants Buck to substitute. 

Buck’s attention jerks away from his phone when Eddie re-enters the central locker area, wearing only the cargo shorts as he’s too overheated. 

Eddie’s ego appreciates how Buck stares fixedly at his abs before guiltily snapping to his face before scrunching up his nose. 

“Did you use my toothbrush?” Buck asks, slightly affronted. 

“Maybe?” Eddie teases. 

Buck rolls his eyes and bounces to his feet. Eddie has no idea how he has the energy to move this quickly. It feels like it’s been forever since he got some sleep. “Steve’s busy getting Wo Fat situated at HPD, so you have an hour or two to catch a nap. Danny has a couch in his office that’s long enough you won’t feel like you’re falling off it like the one in Steve’s.”

“That sounds wonderful. Lead me to it.”

“Uh, Eds, shirt?”

“Oh. Right.”  

He’d forgotten. The T-shirt is new and still has the creases from how it was folded into the package. It’s a bit tight across the shoulders but otherwise fits well. Buck waits twitchily while Eddie pulls it on, then bounds up the stairs back to the office. Eddie follows at a more sedate pace.  

Danny’s office is the one furthest down the dead-end hall, and Buck is right about the couch. From a cupboard, Buck produces a blanket and pillow, which Eddie accepts with a thanks and then racks out. He’s asleep before he can think of asking Buck to stay. 

 

And all of these lines

Will all be erased soon

They go out with the tide

And come back with the waves soon

It’s only the ocean and you

 

Steve

Steve is impressed by Diaz’s—sorry, Eddie’s—skill. Wo Fat is less so, and Steve is perhaps less than gentle when he hoists the man up into the ambulance and then cuffs him to the gurney in the ER, telling the docs to rule out anything life-threatening. 

One mostly clean bill of health later (other than cosmetic damage and a broken face, nothing had been life-threatening), he escorts a sullenly silent Wo Fat to HPD. Steve takes all the precautions, and Wo Fat is cuffed at all times and has been stripped down to a wife-beater tank and his boxers. He is not allowed privacy at any time. Steve’s not letting Wo Fat slip out of his fingers this time, and he doesn’t care who tries to interfere.

He’ll go to the governor and make his case if necessary. Wo Fat is a danger to the islands and the people of Hawai’i. He has left a trail of bodies and destruction in his wake, not to mention all the other criminal elements of his enterprises. Denning is smart enough to remember that Wo Fat killed his predecessor, so Steve’s sure he’ll get backing to do whatever he thinks is necessary this time to make sure Wo Fat doesn’t continue to be a problem. 

Duke gives him a knowing look as he slams the heavy barred door shut. “Trouble this one,” he casually observes, recognizing Wo Fat easily from prior encounters. 

“Yeah. Nothing but trouble,” Steve agrees. 

Wo Fat has already laid down on his bunk, ignoring them both. He had told the doctor he had a severe headache, but the brain scan hadn’t shown any bleeding. The cell is a single cell, usually used for problematic inmates and at the end of the hall. Duke has stationed one of Kono’s former classmates a few cells down, close to where Joe is enjoying HPD’s hospitality. 

“No one talks to him without my permission,” Steve orders. “Including the medics.”

Duke’s eyebrows go up. “Okay. What about your other friend?”

Steve looks toward Joe’s cell. “Has he said anything?”

“He’s a model prisoner. The rest could take lessons in politeness from him.”

Chewing on his lip, Steve nods. He should talk to Joe—they hadn’t been quiet bringing Wo Fat in. Joe had been calmly reading a book in his cell and hadn’t gotten up when Steve had looked in but he had to have recognized Wo Fat. 

Steve’s never been one to put off unpleasant business so he turns his suddenly leaden feet toward Joe’s cell. Robert, tonight’s watch, nods in acknowledgment and then slides down the hallway to give Steve a semblance of privacy even though Steve knows that if Joe talks loudly, the sound will easily carry 

“Joe,” Steve greets his former mentor.

“Steve,” Joe returns as he sits up, coming to stand a few feet away but not reaching for the barred door between them. 

Steve doesn’t know what to say. He’s rooted to the spot and feels the weight of any decision pinning him in place. He’d purposefully taken Joe off the chessboard, but now he doesn’t know what to do. Does he release Joe? If he does, then what will Joe do? Will he alert Doris and help her spirit Wo Fat away again so he can return to haunt Steve’s life and hurt more people? Or will Joe fade back into his retirement with his home base in Montana and float in with the other tourists from time to time to visit?  

“Steve,” Joe calls softly, returning his attention to the older seal. Joe looks tired. The lines around his eyes from years of exposure to the outdoor elements seem deeper and less like laugh lines than they used to. He’s aged years in a span of days, and Steve hates it. “You got him, I see.”

“I did.” The words stick in Steve’s throat which has gone drier than the desert. 

“I’m glad you corrected my mistake,” Joe says gently and closes the distance between them, leaning on the bars of his cell. They’re not quite touching, but they could be if Steve let them. 

“So it was a mistake?”

“It was. I let your mother—“

“Don’t call her that. She doesn’t deserve that honor,” Steve cuts in and corrects with a viciousness that he didn’t know he was harboring, tamping down on the urge to say something worse about the woman who’d birthed him.

Joe tilts his head, studying Steve, and then slowly nods. “You’re right, and you told me that before—Doris. Doris knows my weak spots, and she has played into them. It’s not an excuse but an explanation—I don’t expect your forgiveness.”

“What if I want to give it?” Steve isn’t sure he wants to forgive Joe, but he dislikes this entire conversation and hasn’t decided about forgiveness yet. 

Joe leans back and sighs. “I haven’t earned that, Steve. Sitting in here? This is just me making it easier for you to do your job at this point.”

“I have to let you out at some point,” Steve mulishly points out. 

Another shrug. “I suppose you do—and I have a possible suggestion.”

“Suggestion?”

“Allow me to correct my mistake.”

Steve doesn’t follow. “What do you mean?” 

“Allow me to correct my mistake,” Joe repeats, not clarifying. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Steve resists the urge to growl in frustration. Joe’s not giving details because he either wants Steve to have plausible deniability or he’s going to pull something that Steve will regret, and Steve isn’t sure which it is. “I’m going to need you to lay this one out for me.”

“My mistake was allowing Wo Fat to escape the nice little maximum security hole you’d stuck him in.”

“And what? You’re going to take him back to Colorado?”

Joe doesn’t confirm or deny. “I will put him in a place he won’t be able to crawl out of—even with Doris’ help.”

A chill runs down Steve’s spine—the only place Wo Fat can’t ever crawl out of is his grave, and there are a multitude of ways that Joe could make that happen if Steve releases Wo Fat to his care. On the other hand, Joe could also drop Wo Fat back in Colorado with a judge’s order that Steve could get, but Steve is pretty sure that isn’t what Joe is implying. Neither of them, however, have spelled that out, and Joe easily could have instead of being obtuse like this. Also, given that Doris had gotten Wo Fat out the first time under Steve’s nose, there’s no guarantee that Wo Fat will stay in Colorado once he’s put there. 

Where’s an oubliette when you need one?

“Joe… I…”

“I need you to trust me one last time, Steve,” Joe says, words heavy. “Let me correct my mistake. I’ve never been a coward, and I’m not afraid to correct my error.”

“You’re not a coward.”

“I’m glad you think that, but my actions were partially motivated by fear when they shouldn’t have been.”

“What do you mean?” Steve feels like he’s missing something. 

Joe sighs, blue eyes pinning Steve in place easily and reminding him of the occasional scolding he’d received as both a child and a seal trainee. “Steve, it was different back when you were a kid. You should know. I mean, you and Freddie—“

“Freddie was my best friend.

Joe closes his mouth and presses his lips together, expression unimpressed with Steve’s factual statement. “He was more than that, and I think you’ve found that again with Williams. Don’t be like me, Steve. You know nobody is promised tomorrow after Freddie.”

Steve chews on his cheek. “Buck said the same thing.”

“Kid is observant. You trained him well and should be proud of him.”

“I am every day.”

Joe nods. “Don’t make a decision today. Ask all the questions, and do your investigation. When you’re ready, let me take care of Wo Fat.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Another nod. “That’s all I ask.”

“I should… I should go,” Steve makes his excuse to leave, still undecided.  

“I’ll be here.”

Steve makes a strategic retreat. He wants to check on Kono, see with his own eyes that she’s okay, and see if the docs came up with anything concerning on her or Diaz. 

***

Returning to Queen’s Medical, Steve catches up with Danny as he heads to the office.  

“Kono got discharged from the ER. I had Eric do his thing and then took her to Adam’s room.”

“She okay?” Steve asks, concerned.

“A little rough around the edges but otherwise good. Eddie’s got more scrapes and bruises but has a thick skull, so he’ll be good.” The look Danny gives Steve suggests something else is going on. 

“What?”

Danny huffs and pokes Steve’s shoulder, grimacing at the flinch Steve can’t pull in time. “Kid is pretty stuck in super seal mode, and you are too.”

“We just got back from a raid,” Steve mutters. “Give him a few hours of sleep, and he’ll be good.”  

Steve does not comment on his headspace. He’ll decompress after everything’s done, and he knows there are no more threats out there gunning for his ‘Ohana. They still need to mop up and pick up the gunrunner— ‘Aukai. She’s doubtlessly gone to ground, and it will take shaking the island upside down to find her. 

“I’m meeting Buck and Eddie at the office with Eric.”

“Okay. We should debrief him later, but it’s okay to let Diaz get cleaned up and get some sleep.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “It’s Eddie, Babe. He’s going to be all but your brother-in-law, so get used to his name.”

“Not yet, he isn’t,” Steve grouses, not really bothered by the brother-in-law’s comment. Buck hasn’t made a move yet, but Steve’s got eyes, and that kiss had been two seconds away from throwing down onto the ground and battlefield thank-god-we’re-alive adrenalin-driven sex. If Buck doesn’t make a move on Diaz, Steve may need to intervene because that level of repression isn’t healthy. 

Danny’s skepticism is pure the pot calling the kettle black, but he doesn’t harangue Steve further. “Whatever, Babe. You going to see Kono?”

“Yeah. You got a room number?”

Danny rattles off a familiar room number as it’s the same one Adam’s been in for a week, and they part ways, saying that Chin is running coordination with HPD to tear apart Wo Fat’s base of operations. Steve takes the stairs instead of the elevator as he still has the itch under his skin that propels him to move restlessly. Three floors up and a brief stop at the nurses’ station to check in with Adam’s current watcher, Steve knocks on the door before entering.  

Kono is curled up around Adam in bed, her hair cascading from the knot tied at the top of her head, face tucked into Adam’s neck, eyes closed with deep bruising underneath, suggesting sleep deprivation. She’s wearing scrubs, which means Eric had confiscated her clothing as evidence since there had been blood on them. 

Steve feels vaguely like he’s intruding, but Adam notices him immediately. 

“Steve, come in. Sit,” he gestures to the bedside chair. 

“Boss?” Kono says sleepily, eyes fluttering open. 

“You should sleep,” Steve insists as he takes the chair, but Kono doesn’t listen to him and fusses with the blanket that is draped over her husband, careful not to hit any of the bandages or the wicked-looking metal frame that covers Adam’s left arm from shoulder to wrist, holding broken bones in place. 

“Thank you for finding her,” Adam says earnestly, tears in his eyes as he submits to Kono’s tender ministrations, letting her smooth a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“I’d never have stopped looking,” Steve assures him. “Howzit, Kono?”

“Tired,” she admits. “Sore. I’d murder for a shower and some of Kamekona’s garlic shrimp.”

Adam and Steve laugh at her jest. 

“I’m sure Kamekona can be persuaded to bring you lunch after you get a few hours of sleep,” Steve assures her. 

“Sounds good,” Kono says with a yawn. “How’s Eddie?”

“I, uh, Danny said he was doing okay.”

Kono opens her eyes fully to stare at Steve, unimpressed. 

“Buck’s watching over him.”

One perfectly shaped eyebrow climbs in skepticism. “Is that all he’s doing? Steve, you gotta—“

“I’m sure they’re going to figure things out,” Steve interrupts. “Or we’ll lock them in the supply closet if they don’t.”

“Good. Eddie seemed to have his side figured out. How’s Buck been with Eddie keeping me company?”

“How do you think?” Steve rubs his face, fatigue starting to hit him.  

“That good, huh?”

“We got you both back,” Steve adds. “He’ll be fine.”

“Just like you’re fine, right? If it had been Danny—“

“Kono,” Adam interrupts, his one good hand taking hers. “I think we’re all really glad you and Eddie made it out.”

Reading something in Adam’s face that Steve can’t, Kono drops her questions. “Thanks for coming to get me, Steve.”

“Anytime. When are the docs thinking you can get out of here, Adam?”

Kono’s fingers squeeze Adam’s, and she answers instead of him. “They’re thinking in a day or two now that I’m home. They didn’t want to let him go home to an empty house.”

“So you’ll need a few weeks?” 

Kono ducks her head in a nod. “Yeah. I know it’s not great timing…”

“That doesn’t matter,” Steve firmly cuts off further argument. “You also need some time.”

“A few days and I can be back—“

“Absolutely not. We’ll start with two weeks and see how you’re doing.”

“But if Buck goes home with Eddie, you’ll be short-handed.”

“It’ll be fine, Kono. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. We can deputize Kamekona if need be,” Steve jokes. 

Adam laughs, and Kono rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath. “I wouldn’t say no to the garlic shrimp.”

“I’ll get an order put in for you as soon as he opens. Adam? You up for some food that doesn’t come from a hospital?”

“The chicken teriyaki, if you could.”

“Got it. I’ll leave you two be so you can get some sleep. Expect a delivery around noon.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

***

When he arrives at the office, Steve immediately clocks Buck asleep against the wall outside Danny’s office. He’s standing up against the wall, arms wrapped around his chest and chin to his breast, still visibly armed with his badge on his belt and wearing the same clothing he’d worn on the raid, but he’s lost the tac vest. 

“Shh,” Danny whispers, beckoning Steve into his office instead of Danny’s. 

“What’s up?”

“Diaz is sleeping on my couch.”

“Who’s calling him Diaz now?” Steve teases before refocusing on Buck, Danny huffing and pinching his nose. “How long have they been asleep?”

“An hour and a half. I keep waiting for Buck to tip over.”

“He won’t,” Steve assures Danny. “He’ll be stiff, but we’ve both slept that way. Just don’t touch him, and he won’t fall.”

Danny’s look speaks entire novels about his opinion on what he thinks about the skills Steve and Buck learned as seals. 

“Did you get any sleep?” Steve asks. 

“A few winks here and there while I was waiting on things,” Danny waves him off from further questions about himself. “I started the reports. What are we going to do with Wo Fat?”

“I don’t know.”

Danny chews on Steve’s indecision. “He needs to go somewhere. He’s gotten out of HPD’s holding cells before.”

“That leverage is gone,” Steve points out since Jameson is long dead, even though they can’t guarantee that Wo Fat has no other powerful backers. 

“I was more thinking about Doris.”

Steve winces at his mother’s name. Danny isn’t pulling any punches because this is important and time-sensitive. “We have some time before she finds out.”

“But she’s going to find out somehow,” Danny points out what Steve already knows. How his mother finds out about Wo Fat being caught isn’t the problem, but the certainty that she will. “Do you think that…”

“Joe made me an offer,” Steve confesses.

Danny’s head tilts, his hair falling across his forehead since he hasn’t reapplied his hair gel. “Offered what?”

“To correct his mistake.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve hedges. 

“Well, what do you think it means?”

Steve sighs. Danny’s never been one to let him avoid the truth of things. He may obfuscate later if it means protecting Steve, but they don’t lie to each other, and after North Korea and the whole mess with Matt, they don’t keep things from each other either. Danny appreciates plausible deniability, but he never wants that from Steve because they are partners, and at the end of the day, they’ll have each other’s backs. 

“It’s possible he’s going to take Wo Fat back to Colorado.”

“But you don’t think it does,” Danny states, eyes boring into Steve. 

“No, I don’t,” Steve admits softly. “I think Joe’s giving me an out.”

“An out?”

“He said he’d make sure Wo Fat never bothered me again.”

“He said that? Like a permanent solution?”  

Danny is chewing on his lip, making it red and swollen, and it’s distracting to Steve despite the seriousness of their conversation. He wants to tug Danny’s lip away from the teeth, worrying it, smooth it over with his thumb, and both scold and soothe Danny as it’s Steve’s fault that he’s worrying, but he doesn’t because despite what everyone keeps telling him, Danny and he have never crossed that final line before and Steve couldn’t take it right now if he’s rebuffed. 

“He didn’t use that word, but it was implied.”

“You think he’s going to kill Wo Fat?”

“Joe said I should get any answers I wanted out of him before giving Wo Fat to him.”

“That sounds like he’s got something permanent in mind,” Danny muses.

“I know.”

“You okay with this?” Danny pushes, expression blank and missing any suggestion of judgment. 

“I don’t know. In some ways, yeah, it bugs me, but we’ve tried the legal justice route before, and look where it got us.”

“Yeah, and that’s Doris’ fault, not yours.”

“Then why does Wo Fat keep targeting me and everyone who means something to me, Danny? Why me?”

Anger briefly crosses Danny’s face before it’s covered by a steely coldness that sends a thrill down Steve’s spine, making the seal in him stand at attention. When he’s like this, Steve knows his partner is completely capable of being a dangerous man, the same as Steve. The restrained violence is chilling and exciting, Steve’s fingers itching to reach for Danny and do something Steve’s never dared to do with another man.  

“Because he’s a man who can’t get what he wants. He wants Doris and her attention. He can’t stand that you’re her son and not him.”  

Danny’s summation of Wo Fat’s motives echoes oddly within Steve. He knows this, and he has even been called a brother by the bastard as a taunt, but they are anything but brothers to Steve. 

“You can’t make sense of crazy, Babe.”

“I…,” the sudden feeling of his eyes burning makes Steve’s throat tight. “I wish Doris wasn’t my mother sometimes.”

“Aw, Babe,” Danny’s fingers find Steve’s wrist and tugs him into a hug.  

Steve burrows into the hug, feeling the mantle he uses to protect himself from the harshness of his duty slide off and be replaced by Danny’s strength, shielding him from the world. “I don’t know what to do, Danno,” Steve says into his partner’s neck, his words muffled. 

“Shh. We have time to think about it.”

“I didn’t say no.”  

“Shh. It’s okay. We’ll make the decision together.”

Danny’s assurance that he is with Steve breaks the final barrier inside Steve. The weight of the last few weeks hit him like a freight train, and the grief he feels at being the reason for the attack on Adam, Kono’s, and Eddie’s abductions is released in an emotional purge that Steve rarely has allowed himself to experience in the past yet feels safe here in Danny’s arms. 

“Let it all out, Babe,” Danny croons in his ear, and Steve imagines a brief press of a swollen pair of lips against his forehead even as he presses into the hand, rubbing his back like a cat, back arching. Steve curls further into Danny, hiding for a few moments from the harshness of the world, knowing that Danny will protect him. 

When he finally pulls back, Steve feels raw and exposed but doesn’t fear Danny’s reaction. Danny’s reluctance to release him makes Steve’s heart trip in his chest even as he rubs away the tears from his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, Steve speaks. “We don’t have to decide today.”

“Right,” Danny agrees. “Let’s get the debriefing over with. We can question Wo Fat tomorrow and make the decision after.”

Steve nods. “Yeah. You said they’d had a few hours?”

Danny checks the time. “Yeah, about three now.”

Had he spent that long in Danny’s arms? It had seemed only to be a few minutes to him. “Let them get at least four. We still got coffee?”

“Yeah, I’ll make some, but it might wake them up.”

“Nah,” Steve disagrees. “Buck’ll sleep until I wake him.”

“You got some secret signal to do that?” 

Steve can hear the playfulness under Danny’s habitual grumbling, and his lips quirk upwards before he bites back the grin threatening to spill across his face in fondness. “It’s a seal thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t understand?!? Babe, I’ll have you know…” and Danny is off on a tear, complaining about everything and nothing. The playful pitter-patter rhythm of it is more soothing than a lullaby, and it smooths out the rough edges of Steve’s consciousness, reviving him better than a nap. All is right in the world if Danny Williams is kvetching over something to Steve.  

***

Steve wakes Buck up after he’s had two cups of coffee and sets the machine to make another pot in case the others want some. The firm grip he takes on Buck’s wrist and the pressure and release pattern of his fingers have Buck rolling his shoulders and blinking awake without issue instead of putting whoever touched him in a headlock. 

“Wake up Eddie—we need to debrief him.”

“Right,” Buck says, lips pressed together in a line, but he goes to wake Eddie without complaint. From the door, Steve glimpses the way that Eddie’s hand grips Buck’s and doesn’t immediately release it as he wakes, dark eyes lingering on Buck, who tries to slip away but won’t forcefully pull out of Eddie’s gentle grip. 

The touch is light; it wouldn’t take much for Buck to escape it, but he doesn’t, which is telling. 

Withdrawing, Steve goes to the computer table and pulls up a set of stools. He doesn’t intend to do this in an interrogation room as Eddie isn’t in trouble. Danny brings a digital recorder and the coffee. Shortly after that, Buck and Eddie join them. 

Eddie thanks Danny quietly for the coffee handed to him, taking a careful sip as he tests the temperature. “So, debriefing?”

“Yeah. Why don’t you start with what you noticed before you were grabbed?” Steve ignores the bitten-off noise of protest Buck makes before Danny shushes him. 

Eddie stares into his coffee cup as if it holds the secrets to the universe, taking time to gather his thoughts. His words are measured when he speaks, but he doesn’t omit any details. “I’d been at Bobby’s. We’d had things we needed to discuss in person.”

“What sort of things?”

Eddie looks up at Steve. “They’re not relevant. Do you need to know?”

“It speaks to your state of mind.”

Huffing, Eddie nods. “I suppose it does. I had a rough rescue on my last shift—bit my tongue and a bit of bruising from hitting the canyon wall. It was driven home to me that Bobby—my captain—was treating me differently than he did Buck when he was hurt.”

“For the record, firefighter Eddie Diaz is referring to Evan Buckley, who goes by Buck, currently on loan to 5-0, and Captain Robert Nash of the LAFD station 118, who goes by Bobby,” Steve adds to the voice record. “How was Bobby treating you differently?”

“He treats injuries differently. Buck was made to jump through all these extra hoops to get back on shift, whereas neither I nor the others are. I pointed it out at breakfast, and there was a bit of an argument about it, and I left work early because of it.”

“You were upset?”

“Yeah. I talked with Deacon—Sergeant David Kay with LAPD—about it and decided before my next shift to talk to Bobby and resolve our disagreement before it affected my work.”

“You’ve been working with a therapist, too, correct?”

“Yeah. I’ve been working on communicating better,” Eddie adds, eyes darting briefly to Buck and then away. “I got in some trouble because my personal support system and I stopped talking, and everything snowballed.”

Steve saw no point in berating the man for taking charge of his mental health. Eddie had already been making progress on that problem and he wasn’t interested in making it more difficult. “So you talked with Sergeant Kay?”

“Yes—at the Santa Monica pier after my shift.”

The noise Buck makes is like a wounded animal, his knuckles white where they grip the desk. “You went there?”

Eddie’s eyes are locked on Buck’s, and his expression is remorseful. “I went there to think.”

“But there? Eddie, that’s where—“ Buck cuts himself off, biting his fist. 

“What is Santa Monica’s significance to yourself and Mr. Buckley?” Steve asks, wanting it on the record even though he knows the answer already. 

“Buck was there with my son when the tsunami hit. I almost lost the two people most important to me that day to a natural disaster that killed over a thousand. They were on the very end of the pier when it hit. Last I checked, Buck and Christopher are two of only eleven people who report being there to survive. Without Buck, my son would most certainly have died that day.”

“You credit Buck with saving your son’s life?”

“Yes.” The conviction in Eddie’s voice is rock solid, and his attention is focused on Buck instead of Steve. 

“So the pier is a place of significance to you,” Steve restates, trying to draw Eddie’s attention back to him instead of Buck, who looks about ready to say something he shouldn’t while on record. “Do you find it traumatizing?”

“Not really. It’s a reminder of what I could have lost but didn’t. I needed that reminder after arguing with Bobby,” Eddie admits, eyes sliding back to Steve reluctantly.

“Okay. And after your discussion with Sergeant Kay, what did you do?”

“I headed to Bobby’s house. His wife, Sergeant Athena Grant-Nash of the LAPD, was also at home on her lunch hour.”

“What did you and your captain talk about?”

“We ate lunch, and I pointed out how Bobby treated Buck unfairly. He was upset that I knew Buck was here in Hawai’i and didn’t seem to know any details other than Buck had been temporarily transferred to a special assignment.”

“Buck’s whereabouts have been on a need-to-know basis,” Steve notes for the record but doesn’t give additional details as they aren’t needed. “Did Captain Nash pressure you for more information?”

“He was upset,” Eddie allows, “but didn’t threaten me. He asked me to pass along a request for Buck to contact him.”

“What of your disagreement?”

“He admitted that he was struggling with treating all of us the same and promised to work to do better.”

“Anything else?”

Eddie ducks his head, rubbing his neck. “I may have gotten him to make some promises about letting Buck return as my partner.”

“You did what?!?”

“Buck,” Steve warns him, cutting off the outburst. “If you can’t remain objective, I will ask you to step out.”

Buck looks about ready to throw a punch. “Steve, I—“

Eddie calls his name, and the fight goes out of him like a puppet with cut strings. “Buck, it’s okay.”

Impossibly blue eyes turn back to Eddie, and the nonverbal communication between the two men thickens the air. An uncomfortable thirty seconds later, Buck nods, waving for Steve to continue his questions. 

“So you talked with your captain, which was a pretty emotionally loaded conversation, and then what?”

“I ate lunch with him and then left. I noticed my gas light was on while driving to my scheduled therapy appointment.”

“Do you regularly run your vehicle low?”

“No. I fill as soon as I hit the quarter tank mark.”

Steve nods as he has the same habit drummed into him by his father years ago when he first got his learner’s permit. “So you stopped for gas?”

“Yeah. It’s a station about halfway between Bobby’s and my therapist’s office.”

“You’d stopped there before?”

“A few times. It’s in a safe neighborhood, but I wasn’t thinking about that then.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“What I was going to say to my therapist about my conversation with Bobby.”

“So you weren’t on guard?”

“No. I should have been. Buck had warned me about Kono being taken and how I might be targeted. I was distracted, but that’s no excuse.”

“You’re not at fault for being kidnapped in LA.”

“No, I am,” Buck interrupts, spoiling for a fight. “Wo Fat wouldn’t have targeted him if it weren’t for me.”

“I respectfully disagree,” Steve insists firmly, knowing Buck is being unreasonable despite multiple reassurances that he wasn’t to blame. “Buck, I think you should take a breather.”

With a glare at Steve, Buck stands up and exits down the stairs toward the locker room, the room silent as his footfalls fade. 

Ignoring the awkwardness, Steve continues. “What did you notice next?”

“There was something—maybe a shadow or a reflection? I don’t remember what tipped me off, but then there was a gun shoved into my kidneys, and they showed me a picture of my son from school drop off a few days before then. There were three of them, and they cuffed me and threw a bag over my head. The bag had been soaked in something chemical that made me woozy, and they weren’t gentle. I blacked out in the back of a van.”

“What else did you notice?”

“Nothing, really,” Eddie shrugs. “I didn’t get a good look at them. Accents were unremarkable and American.”

“Okay. What were you aware of next?”

“I was on a plane. Probably a cargo plane if I’m guessing. It was louder than a passenger plane, like when I was flown to Afghanistan.”

That tracks with what they know of Eddie’s arrival on the island. “What then?”

“They unloaded me and threw me in another truck. Nobody took the hood off until I was put in with Kono.”

“Mr. Diaz is referring to Officer Kono Kalakaua with 5-0.”

“Yes, her. The guy she identified as Sang Min was also there. He kept calling her Spicy.”

Steve pulls more details from Eddie about his time in captivity and is impressed by his recall before making him repeat everything twice more, adding small details each time. Buck doesn’t return, and after the second repeat, Steve sends Danny to check on him. 

By the end of the debriefing, they’re both wrung out. Shutting off the recorder, Steve thanks him. “You did good.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. Buck doesn’t believe me,” he admits defeatedly. “I told him it wasn’t his fault earlier, and I thought he believed me, but we’re back to him blaming himself.”

“You need to keep repeating it. Buck took it hard, you being taken. Eventually, he’ll start believing you when he’s over feeling guilty about it.”

“Would you? Stop feeling guilty?”

“No,” Steve says, knowing that Buck is very similar to him in this regard. “If it were Danny, I would never forgive myself.”

“Even if you got him back?”

“Yes.” It burns to admit it, but it’s the truth. He could maybe eventually get over Eddie and Kono being taken, but Danny would be so much worse. 

Eddie slowly nods. “I’ll just have to believe it for him. Buck’s always been better at believing me than himself.”

Steve has nothing further to add. They’ve worked through lunchtime, and they’re all beyond exhausted. “I think you better stay with me at my place. Buck’s living with me.”

“I know,” Eddie cautiously admits. “I was dreading being stuck in a hotel under guard.”

“Buck will watch over you—it’ll help.”

Eddie looks skeptical, but he doesn’t argue with Steve.  

Steve has one last piece of advice, and he almost doesn’t give it. “Buck needs you to take the first step and maybe the second one, too.”

“What?”

“He’s scared of losing you.”

“Buck will never lose me,” Eddie says, voice colder than ice and eyes dark with intent. 

“It’s why he’s stuck,” Steve explains. “I lost someone once, and it almost tore me apart. That’s what Buck’s terrified of.”

“He isn’t going to lose me. Not by my choice.”

“You’re being taken wasn’t your choice or his,” Steve gently reminds Eddie. “That’s why he’s stuck. You need to remind him again that you’re here and you chose him.”

It’s not the most eloquent Steve’s ever been, but he gets his point across.

“Maybe you should take some of your own advice,” Eddie says as he stands.

“What do you mean?”

“You said that Danny being taken would be worse. Maybe you should do something about that.”

Momentarily speechless, Steve follows Eddie down the stairs. It’s time to call it a day and get some real rest and, after getting a brief sniff of himself, a shower and change of clothes. Steve smells like he’s been crawling around in a jungle for a week. 

 

When this work gets done 

And this coat is dry

When this world’s too much

It will be 

Only the the ocean and me

 

Danny

Danny finds Buck staring at the floor in the locker room. “Hey—you okay?”

Buck angrily wipes his eyes, startling badly at Danny’s voice. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Danny tells Buck, herding him toward the sinks.  

“I’m fine,” Buck insists, eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying. 

“Yeah, and I’ve got some beachfront real estate to sell you in Alaska. It’s great for sunbathing.”

Buck sputters as he tries not to laugh, and Danny marks it as a win. The kid looks rough, and he smells terrible—just like Steve. Danny had cleaned himself up after the raid, but neither seal has touched water since. 

“How about you shower and get changed?”

“Are you saying I smell?”

Danny shrugs, glad that Buck is responding normally to him. “If the shoe fits. At least you’re listening to me. Steve, not so much.”

Buck grimaces, nose wrinkling. “Steve does smell.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Danny readily agrees, having noticed the odor that hangs around Steve like a shroud. “Shower. You got a spare kit in your locker?”

“Yeah. Eddie used my toothbrush, though,” Buck grumbles, feet turning toward the showers.

“You should have showered with him,” Danny says unthinkingly. 

Buck yelps, face turning cherry tomato red. “We’re at work.”

“Not with him with him—like at the same time, in separate stalls,” Danny corrects himself, then mutters under his breath, “Although showering together could maybe sort out some of your problems.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Shower. Smell less like you crawled through a swamp,” Danny waves Buck toward the shower. 

“I don’t smell like a swamp,” Buck grumbles. “I’ve done that before, and I’m not that gross.”

“I beg to differ, as does the greater public of Oahu. Do us a favor and wash up.”

Continuing to mutter, Buck does shower, but it’s what Steve refers to as a navy shower, aka a two-minute rinse-off that does get rid of most of the grime and leaves Buck smelling strongly of Irish Spring. Danny confiscates his clothing and dumps it in a spare trash bag, but Buck doesn’t surrender his boots, scowling at Danny and taking them back to the shower to wash the dried mud off before sticking them in his locker and shoving his feet into a pair of flip flops. 

The kid’s cowlick is rather endearing, and his curls remain gel-free, making him appear younger than he is. Danny’s not above stacking the deck, and Buck is vulnerable-looking, with his cheeks covered by several days’ growth of whiskers edging into beard territory and hair curling around his ears. 

Hopefully, it’ll be enough to tempt Diaz into cuddling the baby seal like he needs to be.

Diaz said that he knew how to handle Buck, and Danny was pretty sure Buck needed to be handled right now. That argument upstairs showed that the Navy seal government-issued stoic mask of Buck’s was breaking, which probably meant Danny was going to be too busy wrangling his own seal to help Diaz with his.

Donning a plain white t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts almost identical to Steve’s, Buck attempts to return upstairs, but Danny stops him. “You don’t need to hear all that.” 

“Yes, I do,” Buck mulishly insists. 

“No, you don’t. Look, Buck…”

“If you’re about to say something condescending like I don’t need to know what Eddie went through, then you can go fuck yourself.”

Danny stops, rethinking what he is about to say. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“No, it wasn’t. I was going to say that maybe Eddie doesn’t need you to blame yourself for what he went through. Everyone keeps saying that it wasn’t your fault,” Danny says cautiously. “Steve says it, Eddie says it, and so do I.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I have a tough time believing it.”

“No, you’d rather wallow in your guilt. It’s a time-honored tradition for you, Seals. Steve does it, too.”

“We do not.” 

“Oh, you so do. How long has Steve blamed himself for Freddie? Years?”

Buck’s head snaps back as if Danny had smacked him. “A long time,” he finally admits.

“Then maybe listen when Eddie talks to you later.”

“You think he’ll want to talk to me?”  

The vulnerable hope in Buck’s face makes Danny want to hunt down every person who’s ever been mean to Buck and take them out behind the woodshed. “He’s going to want to only talk to you about what matters to him. Me? Steve? Kono? We don’t know him like you do.”

“I do know Eddie,” Buck whispers, gaze cloudy. 

“You’re partners. Partners talk to each other.”

Buck’s expression tightens, and his eyes narrow as they focus on Danny. “You mean like you and Steve?”

“Sure.”

Moodily, Buck glares at the door and away from Danny. “I can’t breathe. It’s my fault.”

“Ask Eddie again. He’ll tell you it’s not your fault, and maybe you can listen to him this time.”

“It feels like it’s my fault,” Buck corrects himself. 

“Again, ask Eddie.”

“I don’t…what if he…” Buck’s voice breaks, unable to state his fear of being rejected by Eddie.

It’s a shame the kid can’t see what everyone else does—that Buck and Eddie are entirely gone for each other in a way that could make you jealous but doesn’t. From what Danny can see, they’re two halves of the same coin. Communication is their failure point, but they’re working on it. 

“How about we go home? You can brood on the beach like Steve, and we’ll let them finish things upstairs.”

Buck looks torn. “I don’t want to leave Eddie.”

“You’re not leaving him. You’re giving him space to do what he needs, and then you’ll talk. I’ll let Steve know where we are.”

“You make it sound reasonable.”

“I’m a reasonable guy.”

Buck reluctantly gives in, and Danny ushers him home after sending Steve a quick text.

***

As soon as they reach Steve’s house, Buck heads straight for the beach and sits brooding upon it like one of the Moai statues on Easter Island, eyes locked on the horizon but only seeing something inside his head. Danny busies himself in the kitchen, but he’s mainly wiping down a countertop that doesn’t need it and keeping an eye on the kid. He makes sandwiches for lunch and goes out to offer one to Buck, but the kid turns Danny down, digging his heels into the sand as he moves closer to the waterline with the tide going out. 

Sadly, this isn’t the first time Danny’s watched a former navy seal do this after a big mission. Steve’s done this routine enough that Danny is very familiar with it. It has something to do with the seal mindset required to do what they do, and Danny hates the signs of wear and tear it leaves on Steve’s soul, never mind a kid like Buck. 

Danny takes back the sandwich and throws it in the fridge, texting Steve that he needs to bring Eddie home with him when they’re done. 

It’s after three when Steve appears with Eddie in tow. Steve, perhaps recognizing that he smells worse than a sewer, runs up the stairs to his bedroom, leaving Eddie with Danny. Eddie makes no secret about looking around for Buck, a slight frown on his handsome face. 

“He’s outside.”

Eddie pauses, head still craned, looking around the corner for Buck. “What?”

“Buck is outside. Brooding.”

“Oh.” 

“You going to fix that?” Danny asks mildly. 

Eddie straightens, eyes flicking toward the kitchen window. “How long has he been out there?”

“A few hours.”

Eddie winces and rubs his face. “Jesus.”

“He needs you to tell him again that it isn’t his fault.”

“It’s not his fault,” Eddie snaps back, not needing Danny to clarify what Buck thinks he’s at fault for.

“He needs you,” Danny adds pointedly. 

“I know.”

“You going to make him understand that you need him too?”

Eddie pauses. “Yeah. Can you?”

“Can I what?” 

“Can you give us some space?”

Amused, Danny can guess what Eddie is asking. “You need to be alone with him.”

Eddie nods, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah. I know that it’s not my house, but…”

“If things move along, you want privacy,” Danny sums up. “I suppose I can get Steve to stay with me tonight.”

Eddie bites his lip, eyes narrowing in measured calculation. “A huge sacrifice on your part, I’m sure.”

“Oh, it’s not. I already was planning on that. I’ll just get him out of your hair earlier than I was planning.”

“So you’re finally making a move? Kono will be ecstatic.”

Danny’s well aware of the side bets going on between his coworkers and the extended found family Steve’s pulled in. He’s all right with Kono taking the pot—she deserves it the most. 

Eddie takes his silence as a yes. “So we’ll have the house to ourselves tonight?”

“Yep—make the most of it, why don’t you?”

“I may do that.”

“Good. I’ll have Steve out of here in twenty minutes or so. Go talk to your seal and get him to stop brooding.”

Eddie snaps off a playful salute and exits using the lanai door just as Danny hears the shower upstairs turn off. 

Perfect timing.

Watching out the window by the kitchen sink as Eddie wanders across the backyard toward Buck, Danny waits for Steve to join him. 

“Where’d they go? I was thinking about grilling out for dinner,” Steve says as he joins Danny, hair damp from his quick wash up and smelling much better. 

“They’re talking,” Danny answers. “They’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Oh. So Dinner?” Steve fidgets with the fridge but doesn’t open it.  

“I think they’re going to be a while.”

“So we shouldn’t..?” Steve finally looks at Danny, and he’s lost some of the armor, letting Danny see the Steve he knows peeking out through a chink. 

“I think they’re going to need privacy.”

“Oh. Uh…” Steve awkwardly looks around his kitchen, “It’s my house?”

“You can stay the night at mine. We’ll give them some privacy.”

“I’m not being sexiled from my own house,” Steve grumbles, not moving. 

“You’re not. You’re coming to mine, and we’ll make the steaks I need to grill. Have a sleepover.”

“You could have brought them here…”

“No. Buck is comfortable here—not at my place.”

“I’m not sleeping on your couch.”

Danny hums, not arguing with Steve. He has a different idea of where Steve is sleeping tonight. 

“Danny, did you hear me? I’m not sleeping on the couch, and Gracie’s bed is too short.” Steve doesn’t even bother to mention Charlie’s race car bed, as it’s built for a five-year-old. 

“I heard you.”

“Danno—“ 

Steve cuts himself off when he finally meets Danny’s eyes. Danny can only assume what he’s thinking is on his face because Steve nods and drops the argument.  

“I’ll go grab a bag.”

“Don’t take too long,” Danny calls after him. He promised Eddie twenty minutes and means to make it less. If he lets Steve linger, the big lug will decide he needs to play overwatch or something on Buck and Eddie talking things out, and the boys don’t need Steve spying on them getting together, even if Danny idly thinks they’ll make a pretty pair together from an aesthetic and voyeuristic standpoint. 

Steve takes five minutes, and he’s a bit wide-eyed as he follows Danny out to the Camaro. “We’re not taking my car?”

“Nope. Leave your keys. That way, if Buck decides to show Eddie the island, he can.” Danny doesn’t think they’ll leave the house, but he’s not purposely stranding the boys here if things don’t progress the way Danny believes they will. 

He dodges Steve’s attempts to snag his keys, deciding he’s driving tonight. Danny needs Steve to cede control for the first part of this dance, and then Danny will let him lead once they’re committed to a direction for the evening. 

Danny knows he’ll have to let Steve drive in bed—at least the first time. 

The drive home is silent, and Steve is watching him, trying to figure out what Danny’s doing. Danny, for his part, doesn’t give up the game yet and wants to draw out his own anticipation, knowing that Steve is picking up his mood but doesn’t know what to make of it.

He wants Steve to focus on him instead of the case, and he wants that tight armor around his partner to loosen up some more so it’ll fall away easily when needed. Danny won’t settle for part of Steve—he wants all of him. He’s playing for keeps here, not just for tonight. 

“Danny?” Steve finally asks, uncertain. 

“We’re almost home, Babe. We’ll talk when we get there.”

“Talk about what?” Steve’s got a little frown of concern on his face, and Danny quickly categorizes it as frown number twelve, which says Steve is worried but uncertain. It’s a rarer expression but not a concerning one. It’s usually followed by scowl number eight, which means that Steve is about to take the bit in his teeth and act, possibly in a way that will make Danny yell at him about safety. 

Danny doesn’t have a good answer for Steve that doesn’t give up the game, so he stays silent, which frustrates Steve, and scowl number eight appears.  

“Danno? Talk about what?”

“About things—the case.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“We’re two minutes from home. Let me get us home, and then we’ll talk.”

“Danno—“

“Two minutes, Steven.” Danny wags his finger and focuses on the road. They’re three blocks from his house, and Steve’s patience is eroding fast. 

No sooner does he shift into park and Steve’s on him. “Danny, what do we need to talk about.”

“Let’s get inside first.”

“Danny,” Steve says, his name loaded with exasperation and demanding an explanation, as Steve will only do so much following along before he needs Danny to explain. They’ve both been up too long and are running on fumes, but Danny has goals he wants to accomplish before they sleep, and Steve’s patience has worn thin. 

“Inside, Babe,” Danny repeats, putting his last bit of patience into his tone.

Scowl number eight deepens to scowl number two—Danny has only minutes to derail Steve before grenades are involved. 

Danny’s fingers are unexpectedly clumsy as he goes to open the door, fumbling with his keys. He can feel Steve looming behind him, and Danny trips as he crosses the threshold. 

He’s saved by Steve grabbing him and keeping him from face-planting into the floor. 

“Danny, what’s going on?” Steve grouses loudly, but his hands are gentle as they cradle Danny’s body. 

Sighing, Danny lets Steve put him back on his feet. He mourns the loss of Steve’s warm, big hands as they are retracted. 

He’s overcomplicating things. Overthinking—his old friend from when his marriage to Rachel was deteriorating, and she was already sneaking around with Stan behind his back. Danny needs to get his head out of his ass, but he’s tired and longs for the feel of being wrapped in Steve’s arms like he had just two days ago. 

While Danny’s stuck in his head trying to figure out what to say to explain himself, Steve makes his own assumptions and takes a step back, putting distance between them as he closes the door. His expression closes off, and the armor around Steve’s heart tightens, the cracks closing. 

That’s not what Danny wants. 

“Babe, look at me.”

The way he says it must trip something in Steve because his head snaps toward Danny, and suddenly, the game is up. Danny’s tentative plan gets thrown out the window because he no longer wants to play. No battle plan survives first contact, and this one is no exception. 

Looking back at Steve, who is looking back at him with the same soul-deep longing barely hidden by the armor Danny has made a life goal of getting underneath, Danny throws in the towel.  

“Stop that,” Danny whispers. 

“Stop what?” Is the weak, confused protest. Steve is only ever weak for Danny. 

“Stop looking at me like you can’t have me.”

Steve’s eyes widen and his nostrils flare as he inhales sharply, eyes blown wide. “What?”

“I’m tired of just looking. I want to see if what you’ve been advertising since the day we met is as good as I think it’s going to be. I don’t want to look and not touch anymore.”

“Any more?”

“Yeah, babe. You into false advertising?” 

“No,” Steve hastily answers, still half-frozen and beginning to lean into Danny’s personal space. He seems to need more than a verbal invitation, so Danny lets his fingers circle Steve’s wrist and tugs at it. 

“I do want to know how long the warranty is good for—hnnng.”

Steve kisses as he fights. It’s all aggression and take charge, demanding in a sweep of the tongue that sneaks into Danny’s mouth to stake a claim of ownership, planting a flag in a hungry flood of domination. Still, it’s also sweet and salty, the aggressive tongue becoming pliable as it twines with Danny’s to sneak a taste as it maps his mouth. Danny opens to this assault, welcoming Steve in with a moan that seems to come from his toes. Steve’s hands are everywhere, holding and supporting him, gripping Danny tight as their bodies clash together in a hold that would be suffocating if it weren’t so tender. 

He’s caught in Hurricane Steve and can barely hang on as he’s swept off his feet, dazed and painfully aroused. 

⚓️ 

When they break for air, Danny’s pressed against the stairs, and Steve is between his spread legs. They both gulp in a lungful of air and then are back at it, trying to climb into each other in a tangle of lips and tongue, hands tearing at clothing to gain access to more skin. 

Danny always knew Steve would break him, but what a way to go. 

Steve pulls back long enough to yank his shirt off, and Danny is on him, unable to stand being separated. He’s dreamt of tracing each of Steve’s tattoos with his tongue, wants to know the texture of his skin, and if the black and blue ink tastes different than the tanned skin that stretches over miles of muscles that Danny has very carefully visually memorized from afar. The dips and rises of bone and flesh that make up the man he’s been in love with since two days after meeting him are stroked by fingertips desperate to learn Steve in a new, more intimate way before clutching to anchor himself as they try to merge into one being. 

“C’mon Babe,” Danny urges Steve, gasping at the sharp nip of teeth that find a new hot spot on Danny’s neck that makes him want to seize at the jolt of heat that floods him with the application of tongue and teeth, leaving a mark of ownership. 

“Danny,” Steve growls his name, a sharp pull causing the buttons of Danny’s shirt to give way, which satisfies Steve given the way he attaches his mouth to Danny’s right nipple, tongue laving it into a peak before lips tighten to suckle a bruise around it. Their hips rut together, trapped cocks seeking friction as they race towards the rapidly approaching summit. 

He could try and hold on, but Danny chooses not to, and he peaks, writhing in Steve’s grip as he enters the free fall of orgasm, Steve’s hand somehow sneaking into Danny’s pants to stroke him through the aftershocks, milking him and drawing it out until Danny is a shivering and spent mess. 

“I’ve got you, Danny,” Steve says, kissing gently and thoroughly as he gathers Danny closer. 

Danny squawks as he’s lifted, legs tightening around Steve’s waist, pulled violently out of the haze of post-orgasm bliss he’d been languishing in. “Steve!”

“We’re not done yet, Danny,” Steve informs him, adjusting his grip and climbing the stairs. 

Danny’s attention is drawn to the fact that Steve hasn’t come yet, his cargo pants bulging obscenely with a wet spot at the crotch. Danny’s never been a selfish lover, and his mouth waters at the idea of getting to taste Steve even as he bounces in Steve’s hold as they reach the top of the stairs and make a beeline for Danny’s bed like a heat-seeking missile. 

He almost bounces right off the bed as he’s thrown on it by Steve, who pauses just long enough to shuck his clothes in what has to be record time or a navy thing. 

Oohrah, Danny thinks as he gets an eyeful of Steve without a stitch on, erection curving up towards the bellybutton that flexes as Steve shows off for him and gives himself a couple of strokes to emphasize the length and girth that Steve’s been packing. 

“It’s hooyah, Danny. I’m a sailor, not a marine,” Steve corrects with a grin.  

“Whatever, soldier.”

“Navy, Danno,” Steve scolds playfully as he climbs atop Danny. “Not the army either.”

It’s an old argument, but Danny’s always liked teasing Steve with playfully forgetting his branch of service. “C’mere,” Danny says instead of arguing further.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Danno,” Steve playfully teases, hovering over Danny in an impressive display of upper body strength and dancing away when Danny tries to lever himself up to press against him. “Off, Danny,” is the stern order belayed by the dancing smirk and mischievous light in Steve’s eyes. 

Grumbling, Danny pushes his pants down further, the zipper already open, and his half-hard cock pulled out of his underwear for Steve’s access. Toeing off his shoes, he lets Steve’s suddenly helpful fingers tug his clothing down his legs and be flung backward to land against the wall with a thwap, his shirt somehow gone somewhere between the bedroom and the front door. 

“That’s better,” Steve croons, settling between Danny’s thighs as if he’s always belonged there and nudging his legs further apart even as he retrieves the lube from the bed stand drawer with a smirk that says he noticed the other contents of that particular drawer. The first press of Steve’s hard, unclothed cock against his has Danny distracted and gasping, which Steve takes advantage of and reclaims Danny’s mouth in a hard kiss.  

Breathless, Danny mewls as Steve’s mouth leaves his and starts exploring his neck, thoroughly mapping each inch of skin with tongue and teeth. He writhes when Steve finds another hot spot, trying to hold Steve there as he works the skin to leave a bruise behind as a claim before moving on in search of the next oversensitive spot. 

Pinned in place by Steve’s weight, Danny can only submit as Steve thoroughly claims every inch of him. He might as well get ‘Property of Steven J McGarrett’ tattooed on his ass—it’d be less embarrassing than the necklace of hickies that the collar of his dress shirts won’t entirely hide. 

As Steve moves onto his chest, Danny arches his back and tries to urge Steve to move quicker, but he’s thwarted by a pinch to his previously bruised nipple that has Danny yelping even as his cock starts to refill. Steve doesn’t bother to speak, continuing his conquest and taking his time, unbothered by Danny clutching any part of Steve within reach. 

When Steve reaches his navel, Danny is squirming in need of relief. He needs Steve to either let him fuck his perfectly toned abdomen or give him a hand or something. 

Chuckling, Steve nuzzles Danny’s belly button, giving it a nip before his chin dips down, and he blows out a breath onto the head of Danny’s straining cock. 

“Steve, Babe—please.”

“Please, what?”

“Babe…” Danny’s losing the ability to string words together and going cross-eyed in want. 

“I’ll take care of you, Danno,” Steve promises him, eyes soft and holding Danny’s gaze as he opens his mouth and swallows Danny down in one smooth motion. 

It really shouldn’t shock Danny that Steve can deep-throat him. Steve is a man of many talents. However, Danny’s brain cells are a little busy right now, focusing on the wet heat of Steve’s throat, and then he sucks and hums, and Danny dies a little bit. 

He also completely misses the first finger, slipping stealthily into him until Steve crooks it and scores a direct hit on Danny’s prostate, making him jerk like he’s been electrocuted. 

“Steve!”

Smirking around the mouthful of Danny’s cock, Steve adds a second finger to the first, scissoring them to work Danny open even as his throat contracts in a powerful suck that has Danny seeing stars. He’s got toys in that drawer that Steve saw, including a collection of smaller dildos, but as Steve adds a third finger, Danny realizes he should have bought a bigger one as the stretch burns. 

Pulling off Danny’s cock with a slurp, Steve licks his lips as he holds his fingers still, waiting for Danny to adjust. “C’mon, Danno. You can take it.”

“Give me a minute,” Danny pants, bearing down and contracting around the fingers before forcibly relaxing, and the burn disappears.  

“We’re going to practice until you can take me easily without a lot of prep,” Steve assures him distracting Danny with a sloppy suckle to the head of his cock and a tongue spearing into the slit to gather the precome leaking from it. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being fucked loose by my cock and then plugging you with a toy after you’re full of my come, then me taking it out and fucking you again.”

Danny’s all for playing with Steve. He’s never done half the dirty things Steve is suggesting, but the thought of doing it with Steve has his cock jerking, wanting to be sheathed down Steve’s throat. Wanting to take Steve to the root and ride him until the bed frame breaks or the wall cracks. 

“I’ll take care of you, Danno. Don’t you worry,” Steve says, fingers hammering Danny’s prostate in an irregular rhythm that won’t let him quite reach his peak a second time.  

“Steve,” Danny whines, trying to express that he’s ready. He needs Steve’s cock—now!

“I got you,” Steve says, and then the fingers are withdrawn, and Danny clenches at their loss, feeling gapingly empty without them.  

The blunt head of Steve’s slick cock pressing in has Danny clamping down as he’s breached, and he quivers as he tries to adjust to the burn of the stretch. Steve, somehow holding back, is still as a statue, giving Danny time as his ass contracts and then slowly begins to relax, allowing Steve to slide just a little bit deeper before the cycle begins anew. 

They’re both drenched in sweat by the time Steve bottoms out, his hips flush with Danny’s ass. He’s so full of Steve, the head of Steve’s cock putting pressure on his prostate and making the edges of Danny’s vision fuzz as he tries to catch his breath.  

Gradually, it gets better. Danny’s arms and legs tighten around Steve when he first attempts to withdraw, not wanting to lose his hard-fought-for prize. “No.”

“Danno,” Steve cajoles, voice breathy with the effort not to take Danny forcefully. “Let me move.”

“Fuck,” Danny swears, letting his legs relax a tiny amount.

“That’s the idea,” Steve says, rolling his hips to pull out until Danny clamps down around the head before it can completely withdraw.  

“Fuck me,” Danny corrects himself, not fully aware of what he’s saying. 

“Yes, Danno,” Steve agrees and hitches his hips to smoothly glide deeper into Danny, hitting his prostate dead on and making Danny gasp. 

“Again,” Danny orders, and Steve complies. 

Again and again and again until they find their rhythm, bodies moving in synchrony as they merge and part like the tide. Steve is everywhere, his mouth on Danny’s in a kiss and stealing his breath, his hands anchoring Danny to the bed lest he float away on a breeze even as Steve takes possession with each thrust home. 

Danny’s every nerve is on fire, and Steve is the ignition source. The banked embers of his prior orgasm fanned into a five-alarm fire that is consuming everything in its wake. Steve is everywhere and everything, pushing and pulling Danny apart and remaking him as he hits his peak a second time, cock spurting against the washboard abs as his legs are held open and Steve splits him in two, railing Danny through the mattress and following Danny into a tumble of limbs and sweat. 

Afterward, tangled and sweaty, Danny clings to Steve, who croons his name, fingers tucking his hair behind an ear and is his life raft. “I’ve got you, Danno.”

“Babe,” Danny mutters, still floating, “love you.”

If he were more with it, Danny would have noticed the sudden stillness of his bedmate. “I love you too, Danny.”

“Mmhmm,” Danny muses, grumbling as Steve rearranges his limbs and doesn’t notice him pulling out, dampness spreading between his thighs. 

“I’ve got you, Danno,” Steve says on the edge of Danny’s consciousness, a wet cloth wiping his stomach and legs. 

“Don’t go,” Danny says, Morpheus dragging him toward sleep. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve assures him as he slips under, safe and warm in Steve’s arms. 

⚓️ 

 

When these sails go up

Mountains fade away

Stars come out

I’m finally free

It’s only the ocean and me

 

Buck

“I thought you hated beaches anymore—after the tsunami.” Eddie’s voice is startlingly close, and Buck twists to look up at Eddie, who is kicking off his borrowed sandals to take a seat on the sand next to him. The smile on Eddie’s face is relaxed, with no signs of the stress of the last few days except for the bruise over his left cheek.  

Buck can’t help but snap a bit at the joking tone, feeling a bit too raw and open after being reminded it was his fault Eddie had been taken. “It’s not the beach that bothers me.”

“Well,” Eddie drawls as he sends up a small sandstorm by plopping into the sand close enough for Buck to feel his body heat and knocking into Buck’s shoulder, “then why are you out here glaring at the water like it has personally offended you?”

“It’s not…” Buck gapes at Eddie. “How can you be so…”

“So what?” 

The little smile on Eddie’s face grates on Buck’s last nerve. “So I should be okay with you getting taken because of me?!?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was!” Buck snaps. “It was all my fault!”

“No—it was Wo Fat’s fault,” Eddie repeats calmly. “You didn’t kidnap me.”

“Well, he kidnapped you because he wanted me to leave Steve,” Buck irritably points out.

“Again, it was his fault. He’s the one who ordered them to jump me and bring me here to Hawaii. Not you.”

“But,” Buck’s voice breaks, and he barely bites back the sob that wants to escape his chest. He feels like he can’t breathe and it was his fault Eddie was taken, that Christopher was parentless for how many days, and now Eddie is here and he’s… he’s…. 

“Buck, it wasn’t your fault. People do terrible things all the time. Not everything is your fault, even if it was partially about you.”

“It was because of me,” Buck insists stubbornly. 

“And did you do what Wo Fat wanted?” Eddie asks instead, leaning in slightly so their shoulders are brushing together again, separated only by the thin cotton of their t-shirts. 

“No!” 

Eddie’s perfectly shaped eyebrow does that questioning lift thing, and those whiskey-brown eyes are silently laughing at Buck, his lips still stubbornly quirked into a smile, driving Buck insane. It’s the look that Eddie gives him when he’s being too stubborn and won’t see reason, but Buck is trying to point out to Eddie that it really is his fault this time. 

“It’s not…” Buck struggles to find the right words to express his point. Eddie had been taken because of him. He’d gotten hurt because of Buck. Christopher had been scared and alone because of Buck. “You got hurt because of me. Christopher is alone in LA without you because of me.”

“Again, it’s Wo Fat’s fault. You leaving Steve and 5-0 might have been his goal—which I’m glad you didn’t do—but it is his fault, not yours, Buck. Get that through your thick skull. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault.”

Buck hates it when Eddie is like this. He knows he can’t refute Eddie’s statement, but he still feels like an elephant is sitting on his chest, and Buck can’t take a deep breath. “It feels like it is.”

“I know,” Eddie lifts his arm and slides it around Buck’s shoulders, pulling him in close, thumb rubbing against the skin right above Buck’s collar bone.  

Buck’s body betrays him, and he all but melts into the half-hug. He wants to bury his face in Eddie’s neck and shut out the world for a few minutes, hours—fucking days if he could. Buck is losing that headspace that he always depended upon when he was working as an active duty Seal, and without it, he feels like a quivering mess, so he glares out at the water and the sun beginning to head for the horizon. 

He doesn’t want to disappoint Eddie by breaking down on him. Eddie was the one who just went through a traumatizing experience—not Buck. 

“Buck, look at me.” 

He can’t. If he looks at Eddie and Eddie is being Eddie and nice and—

“Buck.”  

The tone of Eddie’s voice is all command and years of conditioning, first by the Navy and then by being Eddie’s partner at work, has Buck shifting to meet Eddie’s eyes, which shine with a warmth that chases away the chill of the wind coming from across the water. 

“It wasn’t your fault. You taking time to get yourself straightened out while I was being an idiot? Not your fault. I want you to take care of yourself. I need you to put yourself first sometimes,” Eddie calmly states, and each word rings in Buck’s ears. 

“You need me to?”

“I do.”

“Okay,” Buck weakly agrees. He’s helplessly held in place by Eddie’s gaze and the light touch where neck and shoulder meet. 

“I need you to take care of yourself just as much as I need to take care of myself, but I also want to be there to help you when you need it.”

“Me too. I want to be there for you, Eddie.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up. “We’re partners, Buck. I have your back, and you have mine.”

“Yeah…” Buck wants to be more than just Eddie’s work partner. They’d started talking about this before Eddie’d been taken, but maybe things have changed? Maybe Eddie’s reconsidered? Those discussions had been before… before Eddie had been taken. 

Eddie reads him like a book, noticing the creeping doubt that whispers poisonous thoughts in Buck’s ear. “Stop it. Whatever you’re blaming yourself for—stop it.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Then let me help,” Eddie insists, tugging Buck closer, and the hot touch across Buck’s shoulder slips down to warp around his waist, trapping him as Eddie’s torso twists so he’s sideways, and Buck is pulled into his chest with a thump and trapped between Eddie’s arms. Buck is warm, and he never wants to move. 

“Eddie… what are we doing?” Buck asks, needing to know. What does Eddie want from him? He’s everything to Buck. 

“I…”

Buck has caught Eddie off guard with his question, and the other man licks his lips before replying. 

“I want to find a way for us to move forward,” Eddie cautiously says. 

“Forward?”

Eddie nods, a hand carding through Buck’s hair and then rubbing the back of his neck. Biting his lip and struggling visibly to find the words, vulnerability emanates from Eddie in waves that crash up on Buck, making him want to burrow further into Eddie’s hold and hide from what he’s sure is going to be something terrible that Eddie has to say. 

“I... I feel like there’s this part of you that I never knew about, and then I found out about the Seals, your life before me, and the 118 with McGarrett; I didn’t have a clue, and I hated that I didn’t know.”

“I would have told you if I knew you wanted to know.”

“I know you would have. I just…” Eddie pauses, squeezing Buck’s neck to emphasize his point. “It makes me want to know what else I don’t know about you. I want to know everything about you.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah, and I want you to know everything about me, which scares the ever-living fuck out of me.”

“It’s scary knowing someone,” Buck echoes, wanting Eddie to keep talking. 

“Yeah. Shannon didn’t… there’s a lot I never told her that I kept from her. Maybe she did want to know at some point, but she stopped wanting to know me sometime after Christopher was born. I don’t know if it was too much having a kid, and then I was gone a lot, but we stopped wanting to know everything about each other before she left me the first time.”

“The first time?” Buck’s brain is stuttering to keep up even as his heart races. Eddie means he wants Buck just like Buck wants him. The kiss wasn’t just a fluke or adrenalin. 

“She was leaving again, right before she died,” Eddie says, breaking eye contact to instead stare out at the water, voice hollow.

“You’ve mentioned that before.” Buck wants to hate Shannon for leaving Eddie even though she gave him Christopher. How she left Eddie alone and hurt he’ll never understand, let alone abandoning Christopher. Buck is well aware of how completely she’d cut ties with Eddie until he’d reached out through her mother because of the school interview because of how twisted up it’d made Eddie to even contemplate trying to talk to her after two years of radio silence. 

“I need you to know I’m not perfect either, Buck. I’m damaged goods, and I was terrible at being married.”  

Buck knows it takes two to tango. He’d been willing with Abby and Ali, but neither wanted to go the distance with him. He can almost hear Mamo’s calm voice reminding him that he needs to use his words and communicate, the rough surface of a surfboard under his hands. 

“Did you cheat on Shannon?” Buck asks, even though it’s not the most crucial question. 

“No. I would never do that to a partner,” Eddie denies vehemently, shaking his head and fingers tightening their hold on Buck as if he’s afraid Buck won’t believe him. 

“Good to know. Do you want more kids?”

Eddie fidgets, the tip of his ears going pink, and a brief flash of those dimples makes Buck want to sell his soul. “I’d be open to them with you. I’m not sure if I would be otherwise.”

Buck snorts. “Well, adoption or surrogacy needs to be on the table then since I’m not sure my hips are suited for birthing.”

“Surrogacy—or at least I think that’s what I’d prefer,” Eddie says before shutting his mouth with a click of teeth and a blush, ducking his head. It’s adorable and irritatingly attractive, and Buck wants to kiss him but doesn’t. The thought of having babies with Eddie is sexy, and Buck’s thoughts are flying to the idea of Eddie holding a blonde toddler with Buck’s curls. 

“So. Kids. I want…” Buck blows out the breath he’s been holding, his ribs starting to feel like he’s not sucking air in through a straw, “I want the whole brass ring. Kids. Marriage. Someplace with a yard big enough to think about a dog, maybe, for Christopher as he’s old enough for a service dog.”

“My yard is pretty small,” Eddie adds, almost an afterthought, “And we’d need more bedrooms.”

Eddie’s Spanish-style bungalow is a two-bedroom—it’s not tiny, but it’s not exactly huge either. The detached garage could be made into another room, but Buck wouldn’t want a detached nursery, and neither would Eddie, so maybe house hunting is in their future. Two salaries instead of one will give them more options, even in LA’s crazy expensive housing market. They might even be able to swing a place with a pool if they’re willing to do some renovation, and a pool would be good for Christopher as well as any future rehabs they might need from work injuries. 

“Is it terrible I’m excited to go house hunting with you?”

“No,” Eddie denies with a smile. “I hate moving, but somehow, the idea of moving in with you isn’t so terrible.”

“It’s not,” Buck admits. 

“Have you had any more thoughts about where we’ll be cohabitating?”

Eddie means LA or Hawaii, and with him being kidnapped, Buck hasn’t thought about it at all. “I don’t know. I… uh, didn’t talk to Bobby with everything going on.”

Humming, Eddie’s thumb lazily strokes a circle on Buck’s neck, making him shiver. “I said I’d go where you go, and I meant it.”

“You’re sure?” Buck asks, giving Eddie one last out. 

“I’m sure.”

Buck is helpless to the gravity pulling him into Eddie. He wants so much for this to not be a dream, and if he wakes up and it’s not… 

The first press of their lips is gentler than the prior kiss. There’s no desperation in this one, both of them hesitating for a heartbeat before diving in and deepening the kiss. Buck is the one clinging to Eddie this time, curling his body in tight so he can get as close as possible as they fall to the sand and roll, mouths connected like two magnets and tongues twining to taste one another. 

“I almost lost you,” Buck whispers when they have to break for air, aware that a few tears are sneaking their way out. He’s still stuck, asking Eddie to save him. “I could have lost you, Eds.”

Eddie is unfazed, the steady anchor in any storm for Buck. “But you didn’t. You got to me in time.”

Shaking his head, Buck stubbornly looks away out over the water and the tide coming in, his grip on Eddie’s shirt tugging him in closer. “Like you even needed me…” 

The way he’d found Eddie beating the crap out of Wo Fat replays in his mind. How bruised Eddie’s wrists were from being restrained, the blood on his face and neck from the scratch by his hairline. Eddie had managed to defend himself—had he even needed Buck?

“I’ll always need you,” Eddie confesses softly, the warmth of his palm wrapping around Buck’s neck making Buck’s heart ache and he’s unable to resist the pull to look back at Eddie.

Painted in the fading light, Eddie is beautiful. The bruising around his jaw and nose is hidden in the shadows of the sunset, his eyes reflecting the color of the sky, warming them to amber, and they are locked on Buck. The usual reservation and careful barriers Eddie uses to keep everyone out are gone. Something soft is written in his expression that Buck’s brain skitters away from naming as he’s only ever seen Eddie look at Christopher like that. 

He also sometimes looked at Buck like that before the lawsuit.

Before Buck can pull back or look away, Eddie softly repeats their promise to one another. “I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine,” he says quietly before adding, “I knew you’d find me.”

“How?” Buck begs him. “How did you know? You were kidnapped, and it was all because of me—“

“I knew you’d find me,” Eddie repeats, ignoring the blame Buck is trying to reclaim that he’s refuted earlier. “You’ll always find me like I’ll always find you.”

Starring, Buck’s restraint is shot. He can’t… he leans forward and presses his mouth against Eddie’s again, hands coming up to cradle Eddie’s face as Buck tries to pour into the kiss how terrified he’d been that he’d lost Eddie, that he’d been too late, that they’d never figure things out, that he’d never get here and is still terrified that he’ll only ever kiss Eddie once and that it had been just adrenalin and a mistake.

The feeling of Eddie’s arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him more solidly into him silences the spiraling thoughts of self-doubt and recrimination. Going willingly, Buck melts into the kiss and the catharsis offered by the shelter of Eddie’s arms. 

The wet sand under them crumples away as Buck twists his torso, catching Eddie’s mouth with his own. Their eyes flutter shut, and they trade open-mouthed kisses. Eddie meets him halfway, with strong arms wrapped around Buck to hold their chests together as they roll in the sand, connected at the mouth, and taste each other. The oncoming tide laps at their legs as they both strive to get closer to one another.  

If Buck could climb under Eddie’s skin, he would. He can’t get close enough. 

The gasp that escapes Eddie’s mouth allows Buck’s tongue entrance, and he starts mapping newly claimed territory and planting his flag with every swipe of his tongue. 

Buck will never let him go—Eddie is his now, and there will be no takebacks. They haven’t said the word love, but it’s there. Their stated mutual goals, talking about moving in and making a life together and babies… it’s a different sort of love declaration than Buck thought he needed, but Buck will go to the ends of the earth if it means being with Eddie. 

They have time. They will figure out the rest of things, but right now, Buck just needs to physically get as close as possible to Eddie. 

He wants everything with Eddie. Absolutely everything. Even an inch of space between them is too much. Buck wants to crawl under Eddie’s skin until it is impossible to tell them apart, merge them into one being.

Breaking apart to breathe, Buck’s head falls back against the sand as he ends up underneath Eddie with his legs sprawled on either side of Buck, weight anchoring Buck, who is so lightheaded he might float away if it weren’t for being pinned in place. The warmth in Eddie’s eyes as they meet his makes the air Buck’s sucking in like he’s just run a marathon catch in his chest before Eddie’s face comes close, and he places biting kisses with too much teeth and tongue that are going to leave visible marks down the length of Buck’s neck.  

A sharp nip catches the prominent ridge of Buck’s trachea where the scar from the emergency tracheotomy Abby performed has him whining in need, and he writhes to press himself harder into the rough scrape of Eddie’s unshaven cheek and the pressure holding Buck down. “Eds…”

“I’ve got you, Ev,” Eddie growls over the roar of the oncoming surf, and Buck’s sanity begins to unravel as Eddie overwhelms his senses. 

It’s too much and yet not enough.

He wants more and is given more by Eddie even as his breath is stolen by Eddie’s mouth sealing over his, setting Buck’s blood to boil with the heat generated between their bodies. 

Even the tide coming in can’t cool the fire that Eddie’s lit in his blood. 

It’s not until the water pushes them along the beach that Buck pays attention to the power of the waves sweeping over them. They’re both drenched, salt and sand everywhere, and Eddie has never looked so gorgeous as he does with his hair dripping, T-shirt and board shorts plastered to his lean form. 

The ridiculous grin and crinkles of Eddie’s eyes make Buck’s poor heart skip a beat, and he’s so in love with this man. 

The next incoming wave pushes them further up the beach as their bodies surf in a tangle of limbs. Eddie takes advantage of this to steal another kiss, but his hands urge Buck to escape the sweeping rhythmic tide. 

🌊 

Together, they scramble up the beach, rescuing their flip-flops and tugging at each other. Buck almost trips face-first into the bank of sand where the grass starts but is rescued by Eddie’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him into another stolen kiss. Fingers wander, and their wet clothes stubbornly cling to them as Buck heads for the outdoor shower. 

The yelp Eddie makes as the cold water hits him first has Buck laughing until he’s pulled underneath the shower head by Eddie, who is more irritated by the distance between them than the shot of barely lukewarm water that hits Buck and clears his head momentarily. He jumps back out of the cold. Eddie is shivering under the shower head as the water warms, blinking rapidly at Buck and the sand that coats him sloughing off in brown trails that follow the curves of his body that Buck wants to trace with fingers and tongue until he has Eddie writhing in his grasp. 

Knowing he has Buck’s attention, Eddie grips the hem of his shirt and slowly drags it up his abs, flexing and maintaining eye contact that would be unsettling in other circumstances because it pins Buck in place more surely than being shot. Each inch of tanned skin has Buck salivating for more, unable to look away even though he’s seen Eddie before in all manners of dress and changed in the same locker room with him for years. The tease of the treasure trail leads to the smattering of hair between a pair of peaked brown nipples that have pebbled in the cool water, Eddie’s free hand sliding up to cup his own pec as he tugs the wet shirt off over his head and tosses it out of the shower, thumb playing with the nipple and rolling it. 

“Buck…Cariño… Babe…Ev…” Eddie’s voice has dropped two octaves as he tries out Buck’s name and a few choice endearments, the rough desire in the call of each choice plucking at the fraying nerves of Buck’s sanity as Eddie arches his back, showing off his body. 

Eddie can call him whatever he wants, and Buck will answer. 

“Eds,” he calls in return, taking a half step forward toward the memorizing siren that is Eddie Diaz. 

“Why are you all the way over there?” Eddie says and Buck is crossing the distance between them before he can think. 

Why is Eddie not in his arms?

The shower water has warmed up, and Eddie willingly kisses back, only to yank in irritation at the shirt Buck still has on. Laughing at the frustration on Eddie’s face and how adorable he is scowling this close, Buck separates from Eddie’s octopus grip long enough to slip his shirt off, unsurprised by the biting kiss of Eddie’s lips on his as soon as the shirt is over his head. 

They’re plastered skin to skin now, and Buck surrenders to the hurricane that is Eddie Diaz, staking a claim on Buck as his territory. Eddie’s hands are everywhere, stroking and teasing Buck until he’s a quivering mess, relying on Eddie to keep him upright as his shorts and boxers are pushed down to mid-thigh, releasing Buck’s cock to stand at attention and rub against Eddie’s abs, his cock still trapped by clothing that Buck really should figure out how to get his fingers working. 

That’s when Eddie picks to slide his palm around Buck to get a firm grasp on his left asscheek and squeezes while his other hand encircles Buck’s cock and gives an experimental stroke. 

Buck would like the record to show that he didn’t squeal (but it was maybe pretty close). He may swallow his tongue, keeping it in, though. 

Eddie’s fingers dig in, rubbing and weighing the muscle in his palm before troublesome fingers trace the cleft between the cheeks to circle Buck’s clenching entrance that is begging for attention. It’s been a while since Buck has been pegged or fingered, but the ring of muscle quickly gives under the light pressure of a single fingertip, winking to suck in the tip of Eddie’s middle finger in a too-dry burn. Caught in the counterpoint of Eddie’s palm hot against the shaft of his cock, slicked only by the precome that dribbles from the head, and the dry tease of a finger breaching him, Buck’s orgasm punches out of him in surprise even as Eddie steals the breath from his lungs, trying to eat him alive through a kiss. 

Like a gentleman, Eddie strokes him through his orgasm, holding him upright and continuing his assault on Buck’s mouth. Buck can only weakly return the kiss, his knees threatening to go out as the last few dribbles of come are coaxed out of his aching balls. “Eddie…”

“I got you,” Eddie says into Buck’s mouth. “Give it to me, Cariño.”

“Eddie,” Buck pleads. Eddie’s name is a broken record, and it is the only thing he’s capable of saying. He clings to Eddie, anchored by the solid wall of muscle that cradles him close like Buck’s a treasure worth keeping instead of the broken mess of a man held together with duct tape and tears. 

Shivering in the warmth of the water and trembling like a newborn colt, Buck stares dazedly at Eddie, who brings his hand up that has Buck’s come in it and licks it clean, saving the thumb for last and letting it pop out of his mouth with an obscene sound, all while watching Buck underneath waterlogged lashes. Buck is mesmerized and caught; escape is unthinkable. 

Eddie is so beautiful…. 

Knowing that he has all of Buck’s attention, Eddie uses his newly clean hand to shuck his clothing, kicking his shorts out of the shower with a flick of a leg as he widens his stance and reels Buck in so that he hits in between Eddie’s leg, his half-hard cock knocking into Eddie’s fully erect one. Buck’s cock gives a pathetic little jerk, wanting to reform, but it’s too soon. 

“I’ve got you, Ev,” Eddie promises, hand returning to jack Buck’s cock along with his. That maddening finger hasn’t left Buck’s hole and slips deeper until it’s buried to the knuckle, not moving. 

“Eddie…please.”

“Please, what?”  

The finger fucking him doesn’t move, and Buck clenches around it, trying to encourage Eddie to move it, do something as the fingertip is resting against his prostate. He wants more, he wants Eddie to move, he wants… 

Eddie pulls his finger out. “Is this what you wanted, Cariño?”

“No!” Buck shouts as Eddie chuckles, pressing a petal-soft kiss against Buck’s mouth in apology.

Buck should have expected the burn of a second finger joining the first, but he’s too busy rutting against Eddie to care as the angle is just right and hits his prostate dead on. Eddie, the smug bastard, tips Buck against the shower wall and slides down to his knees, all the while not relinquishing his grip on Buck’s poor cock.

Eddie doesn’t swallow him down. Instead, he gives Buck’s cock another two jacks and then grabs the soap, and begins lathering Buck from his toes up. Each inch of skin is paid attention to and inspected from the front before Eddie removes his fingers and makes a twirling motion, indicating for Buck to turn. 

Helpless, Buck obeys and uses his arms to prop himself up as Eddie starts at his heels and moves north. The way Eddie’s fingers drape over his calves has him arching into the teasing touch even as it tickles the inside of his knee, sensitizing his skin and making him break out in goosebumps despite the warmth of the air and running water. The weight of Eddie’s palms resting on his hamstrings, thumb digging into the inner knee before ascending, soap and water slicking Buck’s skin until Eddie’s hands are cupping his ass. 

He flexes because he can’t help it—tightening up. 

Eddie chuckles, and then there are soapy fingers urging him to relax so they can separate his cheeks, and Buck shudders as his body does what Eddie wants. A sharp nip to his left cheek distracts as soapy fingers run along the crease, lightly putting pressure on his hole but not lingering. 

“Relax, Buck,” is the husky command, and the puff of exhaled air against his asshole is the only warning Buck gets before an agile tongue chases the water trickling down the channel created by the dip between his ass muscles. One swipe of the broad tongue flattening out and the ragged nip of teeth at the peak near where his spine and pelvis meet before it disappears and restarts its journey just above his hole. 

Eddie is going to drive him insane before they even get to the main act. Buck’s poor brain cells are already smoking from trying to process that it’s Eddie’s tongue testing the tightness of Buck’s hole and leaving tooth marks on the meat of Buck’s asscheek. The kiss of their lips makes him clench, and as soon as he releases, Eddie’s tongue breaches him.

Buck’s brain fills with white noise as his world narrows down to the agile tongue coaxing him open in a way Buck has never been before. Buck has experimented in the past, pegging and fingering if a woman had wanted to and enjoyed it. He’s a modern enough guy to understand prostate stimulation. He occasionally has fingered himself with vague thoughts of various famous bodies against his, carefully not picturing anyone he knew in real life until the last month or so when Edmundo Ramon Diaz was the only person capable of revving his engine during his private time. Still, he’s not fingered himself, and even though Eddie is a man, he’s tight. 

Eddie is undaunted by the difficulty of the task. He works Buck tirelessly until he can easily spear his tongue in and out, iron grip on Buck’s hips keeping him in place so Buck can’t fuck back onto the invading tongue that doesn’t have enough girth or length to fill Buck up like he craves. 

When Eddie pulls away, Buck noisily protests. Eddie doesn’t leave him alone, standing and plastering himself to Buck’s back as he reclaims the soap and runs his hand over Buck’s torso.  

“We need lube and a bed. I’m not having our first time like this,” Eddie says with a nip to the shell of Buck’s ear, turning Buck’s spine to liquid as he lets Eddie do as he wishes, distracted by more kisses and chasing Eddie’s lips. 

The remainder of the cleanup is a haze of kisses and Eddie’s hands everywhere. Steve keeps a supply of towels in a small closed crate next to the shower, and Buck barely has time to swipe one down his body before Eddie presses close and kisses him again, stumbling in the direction of the lanai door.  

“Danny said he’d have Steve give us privacy,” Eddie informs Buck when he hesitates at the door, looking for evidence of Steve or Danny inside. 

Buck swings his head to look at Eddie, who is again pressed against his back, his eyebrows rising. “You got Steve to clear out?”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. “He offered.”

Buck goggles. “You got Danny to get Steve out of his own house?” he repeats.

Stealing a kiss, Eddie shrugs. “He and I came to an understanding.”

“An understanding?!?”  

Eddie’s’ hand has been sneaking down toward Buck’s cock, fingertips teasing his belly. “I got the impression he needed some alone time with Steve.”

“Wait, Danny did what?”

“He said he’d give us some privacy. Now, since we’ve got it, maybe we should find that bed of yours?” 

Buck can’t even with Eddie. He got Danny to… Buck’s train of thought is derailed by the grip Eddie takes on his cock. 

“Buck—bed,” Eddie orders with a squeeze of his palm and a lazy stroke, and Buck moves.  

Yanking open the door, they tumble through the house toward Buck’s bedroom. Buck allows Eddie to press him against the wall, distracted by the way Eddie keeps catching him, reeling him close to kiss Buck before breaking it off to take another few stumbling steps closer to their destination. It’s sloppy, and they’re laughing at the ridiculous way they can’t keep their hands off each other, their feet slipping on the tile, and towels discarded in the hallway. 

Tumbling into his bedroom, Buck trips into his bed and takes Eddie with him to land heavily with a bounce. Eddie, not one to miss an opportunity, is already stealing the breath that escapes Buck’s mouth as he strives to cover as much of Buck’s body as he can with his smaller one.  

They wrestle atop the bed, neither willing to disconnect long enough to make it easy. Eventually, Buck ends up beneath Eddie, his legs spread, with Eddie claiming the space between. He’s out of breath and hard enough to pound nails.

“Eds,” he whines, arching his back to rub their cocks together. 

“I said we needed a bed and lube,” Eddie laughs, hand hot against Buck’s cheek as he guides Buck in for a kiss. “Please tell me you have lube in here.” 

“Bedside drawer, left side.”

The slide of Eddie’s body against his as Eddie reaches for the drawer may cause a few more brain cells to fry, and Buck instinctively tries to keep Eddie where he is. 

“Buck, let me get the lube,” Eddie playfully chides. 

“No,” Buck eloquently replies, newly discovering he has access to Eddie’s bubble-shaped ass and cups a handful to flick his thumb down the middle crease. 

“Cariño, lube. I’ll take care of you, but I guarantee you’ll have a better time with some lube.”

Eddie is talking too much. Buck can barely string together a single word, let alone a sentence, as his attention is entirely focused now on Eddie’s ass under his hands. It’s a perfect ass—round, with enough bulk to fill Buck’s palms, fingers easily slotting into the groove of toned hip to anchor his hold.  

“Buck—do we need condoms? I’m clean.”

The question allows him to focus for a few precious seconds despite the siren call of Eddie’s everything. “I got tested after the blood clots. I’m clean.”

“You okay going raw?” Eddie presses, lifting himself slightly to make sure Buck is listening and making Buck scowl at his prize, which is temporarily being taken away. The crease of worry on Eddie’s forehead is unsettling. “Buck?”

Buck is one thousand percent onboard with no condoms. He doesn’t want any barriers between them, and he doesn’t want to wait. “Please.”

“Please, what? Cariño?”

“No condoms. I want to feel you. Only you.”

The growl Eddie gives before slamming the drawer closed and reclaiming Buck’s mouth vibrates through Buck like a lightning strike. His senses are so full of Eddie—the scent and feel of him against Buck, the weight of him anchoring him to the bed lest Buck be swept away in the torrent of desire crashing through him. 

EddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddieEddie…

Eddie’s artist’s hands have Buck spreading his legs even wider, opening himself up for Eddie’s perusal. With one last biting kiss, Eddie pulls back, and the snick of the lube cap being removed has Buck shivering. Eddie rubs his fingers together, warming the lube before slipping below Buck’s balls to apply it messily to Buck’s semi-relaxed hole. Distracting Buck with a kiss, Eddie easily inserts one finger in a twist of his wrist, aiming directly for Buck’s prostate and finding it. 

“Hunnng!” Buck eloquently says as he jerks in Eddie’s hold, trying to angle his pelvis to get more stimulation right there. 

Eddie chuckles at his response and adds a second finger, scissoring them while he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into Buck’s mouth to echo the fucking motion of his fingers. 

Buck swears Eddie grows another limb because there’s a tweak at his nipple that has him gasping into Eddie’s mouth, followed immediately by a hand repositioning Buck’s own so that he’s holding onto his knees, spreading them wide. 

“How are you so flexible,” Eddie mutters between kisses, adding a third finger that has Buck wincing at the burn until Eddie adds more lube, and then he can only pant as he rocks back into the spreading fingers. 

“Yoga,” Buck answers. He doesn’t tell Eddie how many yoga instructors he dated when he first came to LA. It had been like every other woman he’d met had been one while he was in the Academy. However, Eddie is benefiting from the routine Buck had religiously kept to since his injury, so there better be no more complaining because he can put his knees behind his ears if Eddie wants to bend him in two. 

Buck likes the thought of being bent in two. He’ll suggest that for the next round. 

Eddie must decide he’s prepped enough because he pulls back and starts slicking his cock, and Buck’s mouth waters at the visual of the love of his life slicking his cock. Eddie throws his head back to expose the long line of his throat, biting his lip as he gives himself a few brisk tugs to coat his cock that is almost purple at the tip and leaking, skin glistening with sweat and muscles popping from the power of his restraint.  

Buck wants a taste, but the moment he leans forward to steal one, Eddie’s hand is on his sternum, pushing him back down. “Hands on the headboard.”

Okay. Eddie, being all commanding, is doing things for Buck, and he obeys without thought to grip the bottom edge of the koa wood headboard, straining to keep his legs bent at the knee and spread as wide as possible. 

“Fuck… Buck,” Eddie swears, eyes dark and drilling into him. 

“That’s the plan,” Buck quips back. “Fuck me. Eds.”

Swearing under his breath, Eddie leans forward and takes the stress of holding Buck’s legs open onto himself. The slippery slide of Eddie’s slick cock against his in a wanton rut has Buck open-mouthed, gasping for air when Eddie’s mouth finds his. A few rocking thrusts, and then Eddie lifts Buck’s legs to tilt his pelvis to the right angle for the next thrust of Eddie’s cock to slip down below Buck’s balls, poking at his entrance but not breaching the muscle. 

“Eds—fuck me,” Buck growls into Eddie’s mouth, getting a nip of Eddie’s teeth to his lip in retaliation before Eddie takes him seriously and adjusts his aim. 

This time, the head of Eddie’s cock finds purchase, and the stretch is a lot as the first push opens Buck wider than the fingers had. Breaking the kiss to pant as he adjusts, Buck’s body shakes as he tries to relax into the steady pressure of Eddie splitting him open. 

“C’mon, Babe,” Eddie chants. “Let me in, Buck. You’re so tight, fuck. Let me in. Going to fill you up so good.”

Buck wants to be good for Eddie. He wants Eddie balls deep and coming until his balls are empty and then count down to the second when they can repeat it. He wants to ride Eddie, then slick him up and put his own cock deep in Eddie’s ass in every position and then some. 

He’s never going to get enough of Eddie. Not now that Buck has him.

With effort, Buck relaxes, and inch by inch, Eddie advances with rocking thrusts that edge deeper with each smooth movement of his hip. Buck’s hands are now bracing against the headboard, pushing himself onto Eddie’s cock, until he feels Eddie’s pelvis flush with his hole. 

“So tight,” Eddie pants before messily kissing Buck. “So good for me.”

“Yours,” Buck promises, overheated and already a sweaty mess. 

“You take me so well, Cariño. Going to make you feel so good,” Eddie promises, praise dripping off his tongue between kisses as he takes a moment to gather himself. 

Buck can feel the strain in Eddie’s body, holding rigidly still and not thrusting, but Buck wants him to move, so he experimentally clenches down around Eddie, which makes his lover swear a blue streak. 

“Buck!”

“Move,” Buck snarls. “Fuck me, Eddie!”

Eddie gets with it. Withdrawing until just the head is in Buck’s channel, he snaps his hips forward hard enough to make Buck slide a few inches closer to the headboard and wrap his legs around Eddie before he can pull out again, howling from the direct hit to his g-spot. Eddie’s mouth covers his, and it’s enough distraction for him to withdraw again and slam back in, lighting up every one of Buck’s nerve endings in the process and short-circuiting his higher brain power to go offline. 

He wants Eddie deeper and harder. Buck wants the delicious stretch of being so full of Eddie’s cock that he can feel it in his throat and for him never to leave. He wants it all, and Eddie is doing his damndest to give it to him.  

Like a piston, Eddie’s hips drive his cock in and out, setting a punishing rhythm and laser-focused on hitting Buck’s prostate dead on with each stroke. They’re a mess of sweaty limbs and straining muscles, striving to climb into each other. Buck digs his heels in, thighs tightening around Eddie as he undulates to meet each snapping drive of Eddie’s hips, cock leaking copious amounts of precome from where it’s trapped between their bellies. 

Eddie’s eyes are open wide and locked on Buck’s as he tries desperately to merge their bodies closer, with each thrust filling Buck even more than the one before. Reaching for Eddie, Buck pulls their mouths together in a brief, hungry kiss before the need for more air makes them separate and share breaths as they violently join.  

A mixture of Spanish and English escapes Eddie’s mouth and repeats the confessions they’d both made earlier, which sends a thrill through Buck.  

“I’ll always know you’re coming for me. I’ll come for you, Babe. Have your back, Cariño, always…mi amor….mi corazón….Buck… Ev….love you…”

“Love you, Eds!”

Clinging to Eddie, Buck’s high-pitched whine and moans are needy as they approach their peak. Buck is so close, and the touch of Eddie’s hand on him with their mouths reconnecting with a click of teeth and tongue makes his vision white out as he orgasms, clenching down on Eddie as he buries his cock deep in Buck’s ass, legs trapping him so he can only weakly thrust through the aftershocks of their shared orgasm, come spurting hot and deep within Buck. 

Eddie collapses atop him, breathing hard and burying his face in Buck’s neck as the aftershocks twitch through their bodies, unable and unwilling to separate.  

His legs going numb from the position, Buck eventually has to move, and it’s enough to get Eddie to roll them until Buck is sprawled across Eddie, mourning the loss of Eddie’s softening cock as it slips from his hole, leaving him empty. 

Noticing Buck’s distress, Eddie pushes two fingers back into Buck, thumb playing with the mess of leaked come and lube. “Better?”

Buck hums, rubbing his face against Eddie’s neck before tucking his nose into the corner where neck and jaw meet to hide. If he maybe wiggles a bit to raise his leg and give Eddie better access, nobody but him and Eddie need to know. 

“Going to buy you a plug,” Eddie mutters hoarsely, eyes drooping in the post-orgasm fatigue piling on his sleep deficit from being held captive. “Keep you full.”

Buck’s limp cock valiantly twitches at the idea of being plugged full of Eddie’s come, but he’s too tired to get it up again without a nap. 

“Like that idea, don’t you,” Eddie whispers, his other hand painting abstract designs across Buck’s back, lightly scratching. Yawning, he orders Buck to sleep. “Sleep Buck. Can have more sex later.”

Sleep sounds great.  Eddie’s right—they can have more sex later.

Tangled in Eddie’s arms, Buck slips into his first restful sleep since Eddie was taken in LA.

 

You don’t want

You don’t wait

You don’t love, oh

But you don’t hate

You just roll over me

And you pull me in…

 

Song: Only the Ocean by Jack Johnson

Notes:

22+k…. Yeah this is a monster chapter. I’m still not entirely happy with it and might go back and edit later. On the other hand, have 22k of which a good third is sex.

Anyways, thanks for reading.

Chapter 14: The Eddie Will Go

Summary:

In the days after their first night, Buck shows Eddie Oahu while Steve and Danny grapple with a tough decision. Meanwhile, the Eddie must go.

Notes:

Again, if you wish to skip the spicy scenes, look for the ⚓️ and 🌊 marks.

Do you remember when we first met? I sure do

It was sometime in early September

Though you were lazy about it, you made me wait around

I was so crazy about you, I didn’t mind

 

Eddie

Waking up wrapped in Buck is the best thing ever. Limbs sleep heavy, Eddie is only partially awake when Buck shifts in his grip, the room lowly lit by the predawn light coming in the window. He wants to luxuriate in the feeling of waking up like this, the bedsheets tight around them until there’s no space, bodies warm from shared heat. By preference, Eddie would sleep until noon on his days off.  

Buck, however, rises with the sun, as does Christopher. 

“Cariño,” Eddie protests as Buck stirs, shifting around in bed. “Another hour?”

Buck grunts and settles for a moment before Eddie hears it. 

Knock. Pause. Knock-knock. Pause. Knock. 

“It’s Steve. We usually go for a swim before now,” Buck whispers, hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder soothingly, but he doesn’t make to leave.  

“Yeah,” Eddie says weakly. Buck mentioned that his daily swims work out a lot of his anxiety and that the routine has been helpful. 

“I can stay,” Buck assures him, the words teasing the hairs on Eddie’s nape from where Buck is using his shoulder as a pillow. “Steve’s just letting me know he’s going.”

“If Steve’s here, then Danny can’t be far behind,” Eddie points out, still only half awake but knowing the blonde won’t let his seal out of eyesight for very long based on their conversation yesterday. 

Buck shrugs, the move causing their bodies to slide teasingly together, but Eddie’s not an exhibitionist, and he knows Buck gets a lot out of his morning swim. 

Letting Buck go for a swim would also let Eddie sleep in another hour or so. 

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

Buck hesitates. “Kind of.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts, waking up a bit more at Buck’s tone as he becomes more alert at the hesitancy. 

“I’ll do better all day if I do,” Buck confesses reluctantly. 

“Then you should go.” It’s as simple as that. Eddie will give Buck whatever he needs; if it’s a morning swim, then Buck should swim.

“Eds, I—“

“If you feel better, then you should go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Buck shifts just enough so he can see Eddie’s expression. Eddie can see the urge to go for a swim, warring with the desire to stay in bed written on Buck’s face. “You’re okay with that?”

“I want you to have a good day. If going for a swim makes you have a better day, we can cuddle later.”

Buck frowns as he thinks, sticking his lower lip out and chewing on it, which Eddie shouldn’t find adorable but does. “But it’s our first morning.”

“Then maybe you should go for your swim and then crawl back into bed with me. You can wake me up?”

“The water is a bit cold this time of day,” Buck teases. “You could warm me up after?”

“I’d love to warm you up after,” Eddie agrees. “Go before Steve leaves you.”

Buck grins, gives him a peck on the lips, making Eddie regret being so understanding, and then moves off. The tingle of blood flow returning to his limbs that have gone numb from Buck’s weight slows Eddie enough that all he can do is appreciate his lover’s movement as he bends over and retrieves a pair of board shorts from the lowest dresser drawer and shimmy into them.  

“I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“An hour.” Eddie will be counting down the minutes. He needs to get his hands back on those sinful hips that have way too much skin on display with the board shorts that only cover Buck to above the knee but hang low on his hip bones.

Eddie left marks on those hips, and the primitive caveman part of him wants to purr in satisfaction at having marked Buck up.  

Buck, of course, notices Eddie’s eyes on him. “Or maybe I should stay…”

Eddie waves his hand at Buck, shooing him out the door. “Go swim. I know how you Squids are about your water.”

Buck rolls his eyes, his smile easy. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Promises, promises.”

Buck leans down over Eddie for one last toe-curling kiss, and then he’s gone, slipping through Eddie’s arms and shutting the door behind him,

Eddie’s body mourns the loss of Buck, his groin heavy. He tries ignoring it and rolls over, sticking his face into the pillow. The heady scent of Buck has Eddie moaning, missing Buck even though he’s only been gone five minutes. 

He hears the front door open and close just as he’s at the edge of sleep, and it instantly pulls Eddie fully awake.  

That’ll be Danny. 

Flopping over, Eddie spends about five seconds staring at the ceiling before he convinces himself to get out of bed. He filches a pair of Buck’s board shorts and a t-shirt advertising some place called Duke’s in Waikiki before going in search of Danny. 

Danny is in the kitchen, pulling out what appears to be half the contents of McGarrett’s fridge and muttering to himself. 

“Morning,” Eddie greets him. 

Danny heard him coming. Eddie’d drug his feet on the floor on purpose so as not to startle the cop. 

“Morning. How do you like your eggs—and don’t say scrambled.”

Eddie snorts. “Over easy with toast. Or we could make omelets,” he adds, eyeing all the vegetables he knows Buck likes in his omelets.

Danny cocks his head and then nods. “Omelets would be good. Or I suppose we have enough time for something fancier.”

“Like what?”

“Pancakes. I know Steve has the stuff for macadamia nut ones.”

“How about both?”

Danny grins and wags his finger at Eddie playfully. “You keep talking. I knew I liked you for some reason. We can even make hashbrowns.”

“Are we cooking to feed the army?” Eddie jokes as he starts sorting the food into omelet and pancake piles. 

“Well, two hungry super seals will put away a couple thousand calories after a swim like the one they’re going on, and Steve will kvetch if I don’t give him enough protein. The pancakes are for me, but I could be convinced to share them with you, army boy.”

Eddie scrunches up his nose at being called army boy. “That’s soldier boy to you.”

Danny laughs. “Also, I’m pretty sure Kono, Adam, and Chim will show up shortly. Adam was getting discharged this morning and Kono was asking about you.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Oh, a few hours. Steve let me sleep for a solid four and then was up again.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Steve was up for as he can see a hickey high up on Danny’s neck, and he hitches his left leg a bit when he steps. He bites his tongue rather than tease Danny about the second or third rounds.

Steve’s fit. Eddie bets it was thirds. 

Danny is a master of Steve’s kitchen and puts Eddie to work cutting up potatoes and then vegetables for the omelets while he whisks together pancake batter. Eddie’s never made hashbrowns from scratch but quickly realizes it’s just finely sliced (or rather shredded) potatoes that are washed and then fried and resolves to never buy frozen ones again. Danny adds onion and cheese to the potatoes and begins frying them up while pouring pancake batter onto the griddle next to the bacon. 

Eddie wonders if Danny would be interested in moving to LA and being a house husband. Or at least teaching Buck and Eddie all his secrets because he’s moving around the kitchen better than Bobby or Abuela. 

“Who taught you to cook?”

“My Nonna and my mother. However, that’s making Granny Williams sound like she didn’t help. She taught me to bake. Irish on one side, Italian on the other.”

“Buck mentioned you weren’t from Hawai’i.”

“Nah. It’s kinda become home, though, because of Steve.”

“He made you, what’d Buck call it, ‘Ohana?”

“That’s Hawaiian for family, but it doesn’t mean blood relations.”

“I’m well aware that you don’t have to be blood-related to be family,” Eddie drily tells Danny. “Buck’s and my firehouse, the 118, is like family. It’s why we sometimes have problems—family’s fight.”

“Too true,” Danny agrees. “You want to stay in LA?”

Eddie shrugs. “I do have other family there. Abuela, my aunt Pepa, and a bunch of cousins. However, I’d move for Buck if that’s what we decide is best for us and Christopher.”

Danny hums. “How’s your kid?”

“He’s good. Deacon’s watching him, and he’s got school,” Eddie blandly evades the topic of Christopher without seeming like he is and changes the subject. “Buck said you have two kids?”

“Yeah. Grace and Charlie. They’re back with my parents in New Jersey visiting while we’ve got this stuff going on.”

“You wanted them out of danger,” Eddie surmises.

“Yes. I figured if Wo Fat was going after you, it was a matter of time before he targeted me.”

It goes unsaid that Danny would have been a target because of what he means to Steve. Eddie guesses that the asshole was working up to targeting Danny like some sort of demented climax. If Wo Fat wouldn’t have been able to snatch Danny, then he would have targeted Danny’s kids.  

Eddie thanks his lucky stars that Wo Fat hadn’t gone after Christopher. He’s not sure he or Buck would have survived Christopher being taken. Eddie would let himself be taken a thousand times to spare Christopher. 

“Kids change you,” Danny says slowly. “Steve’s said that Buck’s changed greatly because of you.”

“Because of me?” 

“Yeah. Steve said he knew Buck would eventually find a family and settle down. Said that Freddie saw that when he finished his navy contract.”

Eddie supposes that’s right, but he never knew Buck 1.0, which the rest of the 118 talks about. Buck’s always been great with kids on scene, and it’d been mutual adoration for Buck and Christopher at first sight. Eddie has known Buck is an overgrown golden retriever since his first day, and he was warned that Buck was going through it after Abby ghosted him from Europe, so he’d given Buck space at first. 

Buck had practically shown with goodness on that first shift. Eddie’d also spotted Buck’s fear of abandonment, which could be seen from orbit. Buck had carved out a spot as Bobby’s unofficial kid and Hen and Chim’s younger brother. The weird limbo they’ve existed in after the lawsuit needs to stop, or there’s no way Buck and he can stay at the 118.

Eddie needs to either talk to Bobby or get Buck to do so. He’d said he’d follow Buck’s decision, and Eddie is still at peace with that promise. It doesn’t mean he won’t try removing barriers to either option. 

“When are your kids coming home?” Eddie asks as Danny flips the pancakes. 

“I have an old buddy from my former precinct who will visit in three weeks. He and his wife will accompany Grace and Charlie back.”

“That’s a long time to wait.”

Danny shrugs. “Eh. I’d rather that than make Grace responsible for Charlie by herself. She’s getting old enough to do it, but that doesn’t mean I expect her to do it. Charlie had a health scare a few years ago, and it scared her and me pretty good, so she sometimes gets anxious when she’s watching him without any of us adults readily available.”

“Grace watches her brother?”

“Don’t all older siblings?” Danny points out. 

“True,” Eddie agrees. “I used to watch my sisters. I’m sure Grace is thankful that you don’t expect her to do it alone.”

Danny nods in agreement. “Yeah, same. Anyways, they’ll be back in a few weeks.”

The silence stretches between them as they work. Eddie debates, asking his next question, then figures he has nothing to lose. “You and Steve got things figured out last night?”

Danny’s eyebrows climb, but his eyes twinkle with amusement as he stares at Eddie. “You mean like you and Buck did?”

Eddie coughs. He’s sure Buck left a few telling marks on him, allowing Danny to make some accurate assumptions. “We know the important bits.”

“Like saying I love you?”

“Yeah.”

“The rest of it will figure itself out in time.”

That’s accurate, and Eddie is in no hurry. They’ve got time now for things to build organically. He figures in a few months, he can think about going ring shopping and meeting with his lawyer about formal step-parent adoption. His will already names Buck in all the important ways, as does the healthcare stuff. 

A noise outside the door announces they have company.  

“That’ll be the others,” Danny mutters, beginning to set the spatula down, but Eddie stops him. 

“Let me go help. Adam’s probably on crutches or a wheelchair with his broken leg.”

“Thanks,” Danny mutters, rearranging the hashbrowns and bacon that’s almost done. “I asked Chin to get some OJ as Buck and Steve are Neanderthals that drink from the carton.”

Snorting, Eddie ambles through the house to the door just in time to hold the door as Kono attempts to open it while juggling three paper grocery bags. Chin ho Kelly, who he only briefly met, is trying to leverage the man in the wheelchair up the single stair into the house, so Eddie squeezes past Kono, grabs the front of the chair, and lifts. 

“Thanks,” Chin wheezes.

“No problem. I’ve got this if you get the door. You must be Adam—I’m Eddie. Keep your hands in so they don’t pinch on the jam,” Eddie instructs, not giving Adam time to reply but looking to Chin for confirmation.

Nodding, Chin and he change positions, and Eddie easily tilts Adam’s chair and gets him into the house, which isn’t set up to be handicap friendly. Kono returns from depositing her bags in the kitchen and snags Eddie into a hug that he melts into.  

He’s missed Kono even though he spent the better part of two weeks constantly in her company. 

“Eddie,” She says softly, and it’s enough to communicate her joy at getting out of their prison and being reunited with her family, which somehow now includes him, and Eddie is more than okay with that. He’s always needed another sister. 

“Kono. How’s everything?”

“It’s good,” she says, smiling gently as she pulls back to gesture toward the man in the wheelchair. “I’d like you to meet my husband, Adam.”

Adam holds out his uninjured left hand, and Eddie takes it, allowing Adam to pull him into a half-hug. “Thank you for having Kono’s back,” he says softly, his handsome face radiating love towards Kono as he releases Eddie, and it soothes something in Eddie’s soul to see the same softness reflected in Kono’s expression. 

“Kono’s a badass,” Eddie assures him as he straightens.  

“My badass,” Adam teases her, and Kono’s hand tightens on his shoulder, ducking her head. “Did you hear what she’s been invited to do?”

“No?” 

“She’s been invited to surf The Eddie.”

“The Eddie?” Eddie is now confused at hearing his name said like a thing or a place. What is the Eddie? He’s Eddie, and, no offense, he doesn’t want to ‘surf’ Kono and thinks Buck would have an opinion on that, let alone Kono’s husband, who’s acting like he wants Kono to do this.  

“I think it’s fate. She met you and now is invited. I think she should do it.”

“What is it?” Eddie asks, thoroughly confused. 

“It’s a big wave surf contest on the North Shore,” Kono explains. “It’s only held if the waves get big enough. It’s a huge deal.”

“How big are we talking?” Eddie asks nervously. Kono’s small, and he can imagine some pretty large waves like the tsunami that almost killed Buck and Christopher. The thought of Kono purposefully surfing something like that is horrifying. 

“Forty feet or larger.”

Eddie goggles at Adam. “You want her to surf that?!?”

Adam grins. “Forty feet minimum. You know how we measure waves in Hawai’i?”

“No?” Eddie says, knowing that whatever comes next, he will be horrified by it. 

“So in the rest of the world, they measure waves by the face height—from the low point to the top of the wave crest. Here, we measure using local heights, which is the back of the wave.”

“Ay Dios,” Eddie mutters, rubbing his face. “So are you saying the back of the wave is forty feet? Not the front?”

“It’s forty feet on the front. The local measure is twenty feet minimum,” Adam admits with a casual shrug as he winds his uninjured arm around Kono’s waist.

Eddie gapes, then shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth. “Either way, those are huge waves. You want Kono to…” he waves his hand to express his exasperation when words fail him. 

“My wahine can handle them,” Adam says with a confidence that Eddie wishes he had instead of feeling his knees wobble. He’s thrilled that Buck has never mentioned a desire to surf waves like what Adam describes. 

“It’s a huge honor, Eddie,” Kono tells him. “The forecast is good, and The Eddie should go tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Eddie says weakly. 

“Yep. Which means you can be on the beach cheering me on,” Kono adds cheerfully. “I have to tell Buck—are he and Steve out on their swim?”

“They should be back any minute,” Danny says as he joins them, wiping his hands on a towel. “Diaz, I need you back as my sous chef.”

“Coming.”

“Chin’s setting the table on the lanai,” Danny adds, gesturing for Kono to take Adam out the back door.

“Gotcha, Danny,”

“Lanai is the fancy Hawaiian term for patios,” Danny adds when he sees Eddie’s confusion. 

“Ah. Lanai. Patio.”

“Yep. C’mon. We need to get the omelets made. Our seals will be back shortly.”

Eddie busies himself with the final steps of preparing the meal under Danny’s direction. Only as he places the last of the food on the table does he catch movement out of the corner of his eye on the water. 

Buck and Steve are returning to shore, their forms cutting through the water like a pair of sharks as they match each other stroke for stroke. He’s vaguely aware of Kono saying something as he’s handed a towel, stumbles down the path toward the water’s edge, and waits for Buck. 

Eddie’s pretty sure Ariel and her other mermaid pals have nothing on his lover as Buck emerges from the water, rivulets coursing down his body to catch the sunlight and highlight the curves of Buck’s hips, chest, and legs. The casual way Buck’s fingers comb back his curls scatter more water, and his eyes are laser-focused on Eddie and as blue as the ocean and sky. 

The visceral memory of having those legs wrapped around him last night has Eddie’s pulse picking up, and he clutches the towel to his body as Buck approaches, body swaying forward to decrease the distance between them even as his feet are frozen in the sand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Buck says with a smile, ducking his head and gesturing toward the towel. “That for me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie almost drops the towel as he thrusts it toward Buck. 

Taking the towel, Buck crowds into Eddie, getting the front of Eddie’s shirt wet as he presses in close for a kiss, slinging the towel around his shoulders. 

Eddie doesn’t care about getting wet. He’s too busy kissing Buck back and licking into his mouth, back arching into the hand that presses against his waist to pull him in tight to Buck’s cold form. 

He wants to climb Buck like a tree and doesn’t give a fuck who knows; ignoring the wolf whistle Kono lets loose. 

Buck doesn’t seem to care about their audience either, wrapping his arms around Eddie and deepening the kiss so he can hike Eddie up into carrying him like Eddie is a koala hugging a tree and marching toward the house, not caring about the wet sand footprints he’s leaving behind and making a beeline for their bed and the messy bedsheets Eddie hasn’t had time to change yet. 

The food will keep. 

They’re hungry for other things. 

🌊 

He loses his shirt somewhere between the lanai and the bedroom. His pants are shucked as Buck throws him back on the bed. He has time only to prop himself up on his elbows before Buck is climbing atop him, naked as the day he was born, wet and demanding a kiss. 

Eddie loses the brief tussle for dominance and then relaxes into Buck’s grip as their cocks align. Buck hisses, throwing his head back, putting the long line of his body on display for Eddie’s viewing pleasure. 

Buck knows he has Eddie’s attention, and the grin he flashes at Eddie is cocky. “Lube?”

Eddie’s fingers close on the tube and he slaps it into Buck’s outstretched palm.  

“Thanks, Eds,” Buck says as he lifts himself just enough to reach back and finger himself. 

Eddie might be having a stroke. He’s overheated and can’t look away from the little hitches Buck’s hips make as he efficiently fucks himself with his fingers and adds a third.  

“I’ve been thinking of sitting on your cock for the last two miles,” Buck babbles. “How you fill me up perfectly, Eds. I’ve wanted to ride you for ages; sit on your lap and see how good of a ride you’ll give me. Thought about it at work, when I’m at home alone in my bed, in my car…”

“Whatever you want, it’s yours, wherever you want,” Eddie promises. He’ll give Buck whatever he wants or needs if he can. “Please, Buck.”

“Eds,” Buck pants, bending down to nip at Eddie’s lips, his hand encircling Eddie’s cock and giving it a couple of pulls to coat it in lube, “I’m going to ride you until we’re both screaming.”

Buck swallows whatever response Eddie would have because his mouth seals over Eddie’s as Buck positions himself and allows gravity to do its work, his ass taking Eddie’s cock in one smooth motion. Eddie can only hang onto Buck’s hips as Buck experimentally flexes, getting his bearings before starting a wicked rhythm of up and down, thighs and abdomen contracting in concert with his ass, making Eddie’s back bow and his toes curl with heat as he thrusts up to meet each downstroke. 

Eddie’s world narrows to Buck and only Buck, pleasure building at the base of his spine as Buck strokes the fire in his veins into an inferno. The ride is rough, both of them striving to climb into the other’s skin, any distance between their bodies being too much. They only break off kissing to suck in air before returning to their lip lock, tongues dueling and Eddie chasing the salty taste of the ocean in Buck’s mouth. 

The peak crashes through them, leaving them trembling as they ride the aftershocks. Eddie can’t let go of Buck, holding onto those skinny hips like a lifeline, their foreheads pressed together as they breathe the same air, trading lazy kisses. 

🌊 

When Buck dismounts, Eddie tries to stop him, which makes Buck laugh. “Eds, breakfast is getting cold,” Buck playfully scolds him as he rolls to lay on his back beside Eddie, who hasn’t moved and is disinclined to as he’s still basking in the post-orgasm glow and is halfway back to sleep. 

“Danny had me help make it,” Eddie absently tells Buck. 

“You cooked for me?” 

“Yeah. Well, I helped.”  

“Let’s rinse off and then go eat. I have to try this,” Buck says determinedly, grabbing Eddie’s hand to yank him out of bed. “Shower with me?”

“Always,” Eddie promises as he’s pulled into the bathroom. 

Nobody says anything about their little performance earlier when they joined 5-0 on the lanai, and the food is some of the best breakfast food Eddie’s had in years. Buck purposefully nudges their chairs together until they’re pressed together from knee to shoulder and steals some of Eddie’s omelet, to which he’s added Tabasco sauce for lack of Abuela’s salsa.

“Eat your own,” Eddie grumbles playfully and steals Buck’s extra slice of bacon. 

“Yours tastes better.”

“That’s because it has some heat, unlike your boring Pennsylvania veggie and cheese omelet.”

“Hey, not all of us like burning our mouths like you. Steve doesn’t even have Abuela’s salsa.”

“I’m sure there’s somewhere on this island that sells decent peppers,” Eddie playfully grumbles back.

“So, what are you thinking about doing today?” Steve interrupts their mock argument. 

Eddie shrugs. He has no plans other than figuring out how to get home to Christopher. “When you think I’m clear, I’ll need to get home.”

The way Buck goes rigid is only noticeable because they’re pressed together, and Eddie realizes his mistake immediately and rushes to clarify his reasons. “I need to get back to Christopher.”

Buck shifts and puts a bit of space between them, noisily clearing his throat. “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“How long do you think you’ll need me to stay for your case?” Eddie directs the question toward Steve and Danny, sneaking his hand under the table to grab Buck’s and thread their fingers together with a squeeze. 

“Only a couple of days,” Danny says, eyes narrowing at the space between Buck and Eddie and giving a slight thrust of his chin to tell Eddie to fix it. “You’re worried about your kid?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, giving Buck’s hand another squeeze. “One of us needs to be with him, and I need to hug him. They used a picture of him to get me to go without a fight.”

“They used Christopher?” Buck asks sharply, and Eddie realizes he hadn’t given that detail yesterday while Buck was still listening. 

“Yeah, they showed me a picture of him on a phone from school drop-off the day of my last shift before I was taken. Christopher was wearing his Superman shirt that you gave him.” Buck’s lower lip has a tremble to it that Eddie doesn’t like, so he throws caution to the wind and turns to face Buck, cradling his face with his free hand, not dropping his grip on the other. “He told me at drop-off that wearing that shirt made him feel like he could be brave, like you, Buck.”

Buck licks his lips, eyes gone sapphire blue. “He really said that?”

“He sure did. Our kid thinks you’re one of the bravest people in the world. A real-life superhero.”

“Our kid?”  

“You’ve been co-parenting with me since two months after we met,” Eddie points out. “I’m okay sharing you, but only with our kid.”

Buck is struck speechless for about half a second before making Eddie’s breath catch in his throat. “How do you feel about making that kids—as in plural?”

“Adoption, surrogacy, or fostering?” Eddie asks, ignoring Kono’s gleeful squeal in favor of focusing only on Buck. Only Buck’s response to the question matters to him. 

“I’d like surrogacy… but adoption would also be on the table. I’m not sure I could give the kid back if we’d foster.”

“Good point,” Eddie allows, stroking Buck’s birthmark with his thumb as Buck presses his face into Eddie’s palm. “So surrogacy and possibly also adoption. When we get married, I want you to adopt Christopher officially.”

“Is that a marriage proposal?” Buck asks, voice dropping into that low and husky register that makes Eddie shiver. 

“No—I’m just setting out expectations. You’ll know when I’m proposing.” Eddie hasn’t decided yet how he will do it, but he wants to make a grand gesture when proposing to Buck, unlike his plans with Shannon. In the romantic comedies that Buck refuses to acknowledge that he watches, Buck always gets a little teary-eyed at the overblown proposals and big first dates, so Eddie knows he wants to make it memorable for Buck and a story to pass along to their grandchildren. 

Buck is worth making the effort.  

“Why don’t you show Eddie the island,” Kono tells Buck. “Tomorrow, you can come watch me surf.”

Buck frowns, and Eddie shouldn’t find it so damn cute, but he does. “Isn’t the Eddie probably going tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ve been invited,” Kono says slyly, shrugging her shoulders as if it isn’t the big deal she made it sound earlier. 

“They’re letting you in? You’re going sweep the competition!” Buck’s grin is brilliant and blinding as he congratulates Kono on being invited. “What’s the wave forecast?”

Eddie listens as the locals and Buck talk about the wave forecast, trying not to think of tiny Kono skipping across a fifty-foot wave as there are ’bay clearers’ predicted for the competition, which are waves big enough to cover the entire beach when they break on the shore. Buck hurriedly assures him they’ll have a good watching spot for it not to be a problem, and Eddie tightens his grip on Buck’s hand at the promise.  

He hasn’t forgotten that a wave almost took his whole world away in Santa Monica. It’s a miracle that Buck hasn’t developed a water-related phobia and still goes for swims. 

“So what should I make sure Buck shows me?” Eddie asks the table and immediately gets a long list of ‘must see’ and has to laugh at Danny’s suggestion of the Dole plantation. 

“I was convinced when I moved here this place was a pineapple-infested hell hole,” Danny confesses, “but their pineapple whips are the only pineapple-flavored thing that’s worthwhile.”

“Danno, you still don’t like halakahiki?” Steve teases. 

“It’s in everything,” Danny whines. “Pineapple this, pineapple that.”

“Pineapple’s good,” Steve argues back, cutting off what is sure to be an epic rant. “It’s great on pizza.”

“It is not! That abomination belongs nowhere near a real pizza. Pizza is moz, sauce and dough! Maybe some pepperoni if you’re getting fancy!”

“But Danny, it’s tradition, and it tastes good!”

The table erupts with laughter as Danny continues to rant about pizza, and Eddie gets the feeling this is a common argument. Steve is winding Danny up on purpose, and the rhythm of the argument is well-oiled and playful. 

Buck tucks his mouth next to Eddie’s ear so he can whisper in it, tickling Eddie as he speaks softly enough for his words not to carry. “You know what they say about pineapple, right?”

Tilting his head to look at his lover, Eddie takes in Buck’s mischievous expression, suspecting he’s about to hear something outrageous. “No. What?”

“If you eat a lot of it… it’ll make your come taste sweet.”

“You’re shitting me.” There’s no way that’s true, Eddie thinks, even as his imagination suggests testing the theory out and getting his mouth on Buck again, his own cock giving a twitch at the memory of yesterday. 

“Nope. There’s no scientific evidence, but I thought we could do our own experiment.”

“I’d… be open to that idea,” Eddie admits, feeling a blush creeping up his neck. No one is paying attention to them, but they’re at the table, and Eddie is a private guy. 

“We’ll have to see how much pineapple it takes,” Buck says, a bit louder, which gets a knowing look from the other guys, and Kono rolls her eyes but says nothing. 

“So a pineapple plantation is on the list. Where else?”

“Diamond Head—you gotta hike it,” Steve insists. “Then take a walk on Waikiki. We’ll meet you at Duke’s about an hour before sunset?”

“Sounds like a full day. We’ll let you know if we need something from you,” Danny assures them, reminding Eddie that they need to finish their investigation. He appreciates that they’re not delaying and need to keep him from Christopher for much longer. 

“Oh, I found your wallet and phone,” Chin speaks up, fishing Eddie’s phone and wallet from his pocket. “I already contacted the credit card companies and unfroze your accounts.”

“They were frozen?” Eddie asks, concerned. 

“We did when we got confirmation you’d been taken,” Steve confesses. “It was precautionary.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Eddie allows. “Thanks for taking care of things.”

The others make noises that indicate it’s usual for them to do these sorts of things for crime victims, but Eddie takes solace in the returning warmth of Buck’s side pressed against his and the thumb rubbing against the back of his hand.  

“C’mon. It’s a bit of a drive to the plantation. We’ll get lunch there and then head for Diamond Head. The highway up to the North Shore is going to be busy,” Buck urges as he pulls Eddie to his feet, and they help clear the meal from the table.

“Is the plantation close to where I was being held?” Eddie asks, juggling half a dozen plates and the empty juice pitcher.

“No, but it is along the highway. We can stop for some shave ice, too.”

“You’re going to stuff me full of sugar?” 

Buck’s answer is a laugh, and Eddie trails after him, grumbling about empty calories. 

***

Kona coffee is a religious experience. Eddie’s had every type of bad coffee you can have—he was deployed twice, and the army isn’t known for good coffee. He’s had master class level coffee served in a desert camp, and he’s had stuff that could be likened to battery acid, but it was warm, and he was desperate for the caffeine hit on a cold morning when he hasn’t slept in days and was expected to get his ass on the helicopter landing in two minutes. 

The coffee Buck buys him at a simple roadside stand on the way to the Dole Plantation? It blows every sense memory of coffee Eddie has away, and it’s just simple black drip coffee that was brewed on a hot plate attached to a propane tank.  

He’d move to Hawai’i in a heartbeat if he gets to have this stuff every day. 

The dole whip isn’t half bad, either. It’s not quite soft serve, and it’s very pineapple-y. Eddie’s pretty sure it beats the version that Disney serves and that Christopher would love some if he could figure out how to bring it back unmelted to LA. 

The shave ice they pick up later is more to Eddie’s taste, having gotten a classic rainbow combo with a snow cap, which is coconut milk atop the brightly colored ice shavings. His tongue may or may not turn purple from the combined food dyes, but it’s worth it because the treat was needed after climbing up and then down into the volcanic crater known as Diamond Head where he and Buck made their afternoon call to Christopher. 

Eddie’s pride is intact. He beat those grandmas up to the peak, who were power walking the trail, and he wasn’t too out of breath. 

He was sweaty, though, and he’d eaten too much at their lunch stop, which had been the Rainbow Drive-In, and Eddie had inhaled his plate lunch and half of Buck’s. His feet hurt from the flip flops they’d bought in his size at the ABC store, along with the cheap sunglasses and baseball cap with an outline of the islands on the brim. There’s one of these tourist shops on every corner, it seems, in Waikiki, and he pops into one of them to buy a souvenir t-shirt for Christopher and a set of pearl enameled jewelry for Abuela in the shape of the Hawaiian turtle—a Honu. He even gets Pepa a plumeria-shaped clip for her hair and gives into Buck’s demand that he buy a t-shirt or two to wear for himself, covered in Hawaiian slogans like ‘hang loose,’ rainbows, and shaka signs. 

Buck, of course, sneaks off to a stand that sells leis and drapes one over Eddie’s neck while looking at the jewelry for Abuela. 

The flower garland is surprisingly heavy for what it is, and the plumeria knotted skillfully into a rope that says it cost more than the cheap ones being sold in the ABC stores. He tucks a matching single flower behind Eddie’s left ear and tells him to leave it alone with a kiss.

Eddie wonders if there’s a specific meaning or if Buck just liked the color. He resolves to ask Kono later. 

Sunburnt and feet aching, Eddie fits right in with the mass of tourists that clog the streets of Waikiki as they make their way down the shoreline to Duke’s Barefoot Bar, pausing to take a picture of himself and Buck in front of the iconic statue of the Waikiki Waterman himself, draped in a bevy of leis, the torches surrounding him already lit in anticipation of sunset and surfboards from the local surf school stuck into the sand like a protective ring.  

Steve spots them immediately, having staked out a table that overlooks the water. A catamaran has pulled up and is loading people for a sunset cruise just twenty feet away on the beach as a round of mai tais is brought to the table by the bartender, who leaves them a food menu to peruse. 

“What’d you think of the island?” Steve asks Eddie, knocking their elbows together as he takes his first sip of the fruity drink, umbrella tickling his nose. Buck and Danny had disappeared to do something that Eddie wasn’t allowed to ask questions about, leaving him alone with Steve momentarily. 

“It’s nice,” Eddie allows. “Different than I thought it would be, yet exactly that.”

“You’ll have to come back for an actual vacation. Any time you or Buck want to drop in, I’ve got space for you.”

“You offering us the guest room?” Eddie asks for clarification. He notices that Steve is assuming that Buck isn’t staying on Oahu, which isn’t for sure by any means. 

“Buck is ‘ohana—which makes you and your keiki ‘ohana.”

“Keiki?”  

“Your kid, Christopher.”

“Ah. Getting all these Hawaiian words right will take me a while.”

“Well, you’re welcome here any time. You’re family, Eddie.”

This isn’t the shovel speech Eddie had been half expecting. “Thanks.”

Steve claps him on the shoulder, fingers digging in slightly to emphasize his point. “Buck loves you.”

“I know,” Eddie agrees. “I love him, too.”

Steve stares at him for almost a minute, his dark eyes serious as he measures Eddie against some invisible measuring stick. “You’ll figure things out,” Steve finally says, and he releases his hold on Eddie. 

“I’ll go wherever Buck decides,” Eddie adds. 

“That’s good to know. So, give me your take on the 118.”

Steve then proceeds to thoroughly interrogate Eddie on the majority of A shift without it feeling like an interrogation. It’s done as an easy back-and-forth conversation, and Eddie finds himself answering Steve fully without holding anything back, realizing that Steve wants to know that Buck will be alright if he chooses to stay in LA. 

“Buck’s had my back since our third shift together. It took me a little bit to realize that’s what he was doing with the lawsuit,” Eddie confesses as a second round of drinks comes—this time a brace of Longboards.  

“He didn’t tell me he was having trouble,” Steve admits. “I found out from Hondo.”

Eddie isn’t surprised and shrugs. “Buck’s got his pride, and he doesn’t like troubling anyone with his problems, even if he should.”

“You’re going to need to be on the lookout for that. Make him tell you stuff,” Steve points out. 

“Usually, I’m right there with him in stuff. I failed him.” Eddie’s eyes sting, and he blinks rapidly, trying to hold off the tears that are threatening to fall. 

“Buck told me your wife had just died. Even if you weren’t still in love with her, that’s tough, and he said your kid was struggling?”

“Yeah. Buck was depressed after Bobby kept him off the job, so I dropped Christopher off and told him to have fun. I was trying to help—Buck’s never down when he’s with Christopher, and I thought they could prop each other up. That’s when they got caught in the tsunami.”

Steve shudders, taking a pull off his beer. “He mentioned your kid was there on the pier.”

“I almost lost them both that day, and I didn’t even know it. When Christopher started having nightmares, I’d call Buck because that’s who he was screaming for most nights. When I was ordered to have no contact because of the lawsuit…”

“It ripped your heart out,” Steve finishes for him. 

“Yeah.”

“That had to be rough.”

Eddie laughs bitterly, picking at the label of his beer. “It wasn’t one of my finer moments. Getting involved in that fight club? I was an idiot.”

Steve knocks their beers together, the glass making a solid chink sound. “I think we’ve all made a choice or two that is highly questionable.”

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Will you do it again? Go back to the fights?”

Eddie’s blood freezes, and he shivers despite the tropical heat. “Absolutely not. I was lucky I didn’t get myself or someone else killed.”

“Good. You won’t do it again.”

They fall into an easy silence, and Eddie feels he has passed some test. Buck and Danny return shortly after that, and they order food. The conversation is easy and driven mainly by Danny, who is an expert at avoiding sensitive topics.  

Eddie slings his arm around Buck’s shoulder as the sun sets and sips on his beer. They’re sharing the coconut shrimp and the rib and chicken plate with orders from Danny to save room for Hula pie. Buck’s driving, so Eddie has another beer with Steve, who happily gives up the keys to the Camaro to Danny.

“Is there something wrong with you?” Danny asks suspiciously, holding the keys up like they’ve done something to him. 

“Nope. I’m happy to let you drive,” Steve tells Danny, and Buck almost falls off his chair laughing, needing Eddie to steady him. 

“What am I missing?” Eddie hisses to Buck. 

“Steve never lets anyone else drive,” Buck tells him between snorts of laughter. “It must be love.”

Steve, huffing and rolling his eyes, gestures to their waiter and asks for the Hula pie to be brought over. 

Hula pie is made out of macadamia nut ice cream, and Eddie is never letting Christopher know that he ate it without him. The ‘pie’ has a cookie crust and is covered in decadent chocolate fudge, chopped macadamia nuts, and fresh whipped cream that has never seen a can in its life. Also, Buck is a tease, and if he keeps licking his spoon like that, they won’t make it home without Eddie jumping him. 

There’s a brief fight with spoons over the last bits of dessert, and then they’re paying the bill and slipping out into the island night, the ocean breeze keeping it from being too hot or humid. Waikiki has a strange energy that bubbles through Eddie, putting a little more into each step as they split off from Steve and Danny, who parked in the hotel ramp while they parked about halfway between Duke’s and Diamond Head. 

Rather than walk on the sidewalk, they kick off their shoes and amble through the sand, hand in hand, as the moon rises over the water. 

A moonlit walk on the beach, just the two of them. 

Eddie may be crowing inside at how romantic it is, but Buck cuts this short as he hums a familiar song. 

“Is that…is that the pinã colada song?”

Buck laughs. “I don’t know a mai tai song? And there’s a line about beaches!”

Eddie comes to a stop and pulls Buck to face him, grabbing his free hand so that they’re facing each other, tilting his chin up slightly so they’re looking eye to eye. “Wouldn’t Blue Hawaii be more appropriate?”

“I don’t know that one,” Buck admits, voice gone husky. “How’s it go?”

Eddie thinks hard, trying to remember the lyrics as Pepa is an Elvis fan, and he’s heard her hum it more than once. He hums the melody from memory and then softly sings the chorus for Buck, tugging his lover closer.  “Come with me… while the moon is on the sea.. the night is young.. and so are we.  Dreams come true… in blue Hawai’i…and mine could all come true.. this magic night of nights with you.”

“Wow,” Buck mutters, and Eddie leans forward for a kiss.  

“Take me home, Buck,” Eddie whispers as they break for breath. 

Somehow, they find the truck, and Eddie sits on his hands while Buck drives the fifteen minutes back to McGarrett’s house. The Camaro isn’t parked outside, so Steve must be staying with Danny.  

🌊 

They keep their hands to themselves as they make it inside without incident, mutually deciding to wait until they cross the threshold to their bedroom to connect like a set of magnets, and then they’re inseparable. Clothing is shed without hurry, hands re-exploring each inch of skin as mouths relearn previously conquered territory. There’s none of the frantic energy from last night; they have time, and Eddie wants to savor this perfect end to their shared day together. 

When Buck rolls so he’s beneath, spreading his legs with an arch of his back that shows off his erect cock, Eddie is pulled to settle between them, and it’s like coming home. Each kiss, each touch reverberates through his soul as they push and pull, slotting together in a dance as old as the universe. Orgasm is a slow burn, achieved together and leaving Eddie gasping for air into Buck’s mouth as he comes, hips hitching in little thrusts as he empties everything he has to give deep into Buck.  

“Love you,” he whispers into Buck’s ear as his lover shudders through his orgasm, held tight in Eddie’s arms. “Only you, Buck.”

“Love you, Eds,” is the returned declaration, and Eddie kisses Buck until their eyes grow heavy, and they fall asleep, bodies still joined.

🌊 

***

So, I was late for a class, I locked my bike next to yours

It wasn’t hard to find, you painted flowers on

Guess that I was afraid that if you rolled away

You might not roll back my direction real soon

 

Steve

Waking up wrapped around his Danno is something Steve never thought he’d have. He spends a good thirty minutes laying in the predawn darkness, staring at Danny asleep in his arms, blond hair mussed and face softened in a deep sleep, the dark sweep of eyelashes fluttering as his Danno dreams.

Steve hopes he’s in Danny’s dreams, as Danny is in his. 

Stroking his hand up and Down Danny’s back as he grows restless, Steve jumps slightly when Danny grumbles awake. 

“Go back to sleep.”

Steve snorts, trying to keep the laugh in. Danny should know better by now—Steve’s always in motion. He never sits still if he can help it. 

“Babe, it’s o’ dark thirty. Sleep,” is the grumpy whine as Danny shifts in his grip, their bodies rubbing together in a way that makes Steve’s toes curl in pleasure. There’s nothing between them; their bodies twined together underneath the sheets, warm from shared body heat. 

“‘O-dark-thirty is thirty minutes after midnight. It’s at least 0400,” Steve teases. Danny is adorable when he’s grumpy like this. 

“It’s fucking early,” Danny snipes, rolling so he’s pinning Steve to the bed with his body weight. “Go back to sleep.”

Steve doesn’t fall back asleep but does his best to hold still so Danny can.  

Fifteen minutes later, Danny is shoving him out the door to go ‘make like a dolphin,’ his go fasters on his feet to run the six blocks home to the ocean. As he passes, he knocks on Buck’s door, not necessarily expecting him to join, before running upstairs to switch to a pair of board shorts. 

Buck joins him while he stretches his shoulders at the water’s edge. His hair is flattened on one side, and he’s rapidly blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, a telltale smattering of bruises on his neck and chest suggesting Diaz has an oral fixation. 

“You up for our usual route?” Steve simply asks, and Buck nods as they dive into the surf, arms pumping and legs kicking. 

Swimming is meditative for Steve. The pull of each stroke, the burn of pushing his lungs just a bit further before breathing, is a familiar dance with the ocean waves and current he’s been doing since before he can remember. His Dad supposedly took him for his first swim on the family beach when he was barely ten months old—he’s got pictures of the event stashed in a box in the office.  

Steve is a waterman.  

So much of his life has been defined by the ocean. 

Danny’s eyes are the color of the ocean…and he’s waiting for Steve at the shoreline when they return, Steve’s faded beach towel in hand. 

“Hey,” Steve greets him, ignoring Buck, who’s greeting Diaz by getting all up in his business and focusing on Danny. 

“Hey,” Danny says before his hand wraps around Steve’s neck and pulls him in for a salt-laced kiss that is over too quickly, and Danny dances out of his reach before Steve can deepen the kiss. “You’re all wet.”

Steve grins. Danny’s protests are for show but his hands aren’t still, wrapping the long towel around Steve and ushering him toward the outdoor shower to rinse off the ocean.

Kono, Adam, and Chin sit on the lanai with a breakfast feast spread across the table. Greeting them, Steve quickly rinses off the worst of the salt and sand before tugging on a t-shirt and taking his seat. 

“How are you?” Steve asks Adam, eyeing the careful way the other man is holding himself and leaning into Kono for support with the extra weight of casts on his upper limbs. 

“Better. Thank you for bringing her home,” Adam says, his casted arm resting so he can hold Kono’s hand, fingers twining with hers. 

“Kono’s ‘ohana,” Steve points out, and it’s both an explanation as well as a label. Kono is his family, so of course, he’d go to the ends of the earth and climb into hell if necessary to get her back.

Chin has updates, and he shares them while Buck keeps Diaz preoccupied. Duke has been helping Chin, who has been busy mopping up after the raid. The entire operation has been detained, and most of the low-level grunts have been singing about whatever Chin wants to know when questioned, desperate to get the best deal possible before there are no more deals to be made. The picture Chin paints shows Wo Fat is a cancer that has spread through Hawai’i, leaving no corner of the greater Oahu criminal underworld untouched. There are links to the intimidation and protection racket they’d found in Waikiki and new leads into the trafficking and smuggling routes, both known and new unknown ones. 

They’re going to be busy for months running everything down. 

No one says anything when Buck and Diaz rejoin them, and they all dig into the food, which is delicious.  

Danny has outdone himself, Steve thinks proudly.

There is some discussion of what Diaz should do with his time on the island, and Steve finds it hilarious that Danny suggests the Dole Plantation, one of the biggest tourist traps around. However, Steve is aware that it’s one of the places Danny stops by when he’s feeling homesick to listen to the different accents of all the tourists eating lunch there, and the dole whips are iconic for a reason. His contribution is to suggest that Buck take Diaz and hike Diamond Head, then meet him and Danny for drinks and dinner at Duke’s. The Barefoot Bar is an iconic place to watch sunset, even if it is a bit touristy. 

When Buck and Eddie leave, Kono and Adam follow, but Chin stays.  

It goes unsaid that they need to talk—professionally. 

“So, what are we doing with Wo Fat?” Chin starts with the elephant in the room. 

Steve sighs and rubs his face, shading his eyes from meeting theirs. “I don’t know.”

Danny’s palm is warm where it rests on Steve’s forearm. “Babe, would you take Joe up on his offer?”

“What offer?” Chin asks. 

Steve suppresses his annoyance at Danny bringing up Joe’s offer, glaring at his partner. They need to talk about it, or rather, he must decide what to do. Steve doesn’t want anyone else to take responsibility for this if there were to be blowback. Plausible deniability is something he wants Chin and Danny to have.  

“Joe made Steve an offer. What were the exact words you used, Babe? To correct his mistake.” The words are cold as Danny says them, and he’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, which emphasizes the biceps in a distracting way as the thin t-shirt isn’t hiding how built Danny is underneath. 

“What does that mean?” Chin asks an edge of shock in his voice, indicating that he’s guessing that it means the same thing Steve thinks it means. 

Clearing his throat, Steve cuts off further discussion. “It means Wo Fat would be taken care of and unable to return, which would cause us more grief.”

“Oh.”

“I haven’t decided what to do yet. Is Colorado an option?” Steve directs his question to Danny, who has been in contact with the warden.

Danny presses his lips together and shakes his head. “Not without official orders. We’d need to file our investigation and either get the DA to charge him with new crimes or get a judge to agree that Wo Fat violated the terms of the release agreement Doris used to get him out.”

“Can we do that?” Steve asks.

Danny grimaces. “Maybe. It’d be hard to get a sign-off without charging him with new crimes.”

“This means we have to investigate and file the paperwork.”

“We’re not judge, jury, and executioner,” Danny protests.

“No, but he never should have gotten out in the first place,” Steve argues. “He was serving three consecutive life sentences with no parole.”

“This is all theoretical, right?” Chin butts in. “Joe didn’t really say what he was offering, did he?”

“No. He used euphemisms. Joe won’t come right out and tell me that he’s going to kill Wo Fat.”

“Yeah, because he doesn’t want you to get in trouble, Babe,” Danny points out, storm clouds gathering in his blue eyes that have become the color of rough seas. “We should keep going like this is a regular investigation. If we hit roadblocks or it seems likely that Wo Fat will get off, then we can talk about other options.” 

“I need to see what Wo Fat will admit to, then,” Steve agrees reluctantly. He doesn’t want Wo Fat’s death weighing on him, but the ever-present dread of the man coming back to hurt him or his ‘ohana isn’t something Steve intends to live with either. The thought of what Wo Fat might have done to get Danny, Grace, or Charlie makes the dark parts of him that only saw the light of day during some of his worst days as a seal howl for blood. 

He’s past those days.  

He has to be. 

“I’ll have Duke put him in the interrogation room. Have him sweat for a bit.”

“Okay,” Danny says. “You want me to go with you?”

Steve’s tempted to say no. He doesn’t want Danny within a thousand miles of Wo Fat’s poison, but he’s worked long enough with Danny to know that having him as backup is the better plan. “Yeah.”

“Okay then. We play this like any other case. We dot our i’s, cross our t’s. Chin, you got a lead on Ms. ‘Aukai?”

“I’ve got traces on all her credit cards and eyes on her last known address. If she so much as sneezes, we’ll know about it.”

“Good. Leave no stone unturned. I want this wrapped up so we can send Diaz home tomorrow if possible.”

Chin nods and leaves, muttering about getting some of his backlog of paperwork done. Danny, however, doesn’t. 

“Babe, are you okay?” He asks quietly, his hand returning to rest on Steve’s forearm and grounding Steve.

“I’m fine,” Steve insists. 

Danny makes a noise of disagreement, face screwing up in a frown that Steve’s very familiar with as it says Danny is buying none of his bullshit. “I’ve got your back, Babe.”

“I know.”

Danny pauses, the air growing thick between them. “We’ll back whatever play you make, Babe.”

The reassurance Danny is offering is appreciated, but Steve remains torn. He wants Danny and his ‘ohana safe. Steve doesn’t want to live his life afraid of his own personal boogeyman reappearing and stealing it from him, not when he’s finally got Danny. 

“Let’s get this over with.”

“I’m with you, Babe.”

***

Duke, when they call ahead, is more than accommodating. “Sure, I’ll put him in your room. You want the usual?”

‘The usual’ is a stripped-down interrogation where Steve puts the person he’s questioning in an uncomfortable metal chair bolted to the floor with nothing else in the room. The position of the chair is such that it’s right under a very bright light, and the room is in the basement of HPD without windows, so it makes the rest of the cinder block room dark outside of the halo of light. It makes it hard for the eyes to adjust when you’re sitting underneath it—an old trick Steve picked up from hanging around the spooks. 

Steve may have learned the wrong lessons hanging out with his mother’s ilk. He resolves to worry more about that tomorrow after he’s decided what to do with Wo Fat. 

They take their time checking in with Duke, and Steve briefly looks in to visually check that Joe’s still in his cell, reading today’s Honolulu Star-Advertiser as if he’s in his own home, unbothered. 

Steve wants Wo Fat to be uncomfortable and to stew in his thoughts so he’s off balance for questioning. However, Steve’s impatience is getting the better of him today, and he turns toward the interrogation room after checking on Joe.

Taking a deep breath, he motions for Danny to stay in the observation room. Knowing he’s on the other side of the one-way mirror calms Steve.  

Danny has his back. He can do this. 

Steve enters the room by making the door bang against the concrete blocks, as loud and sudden as a gunshot. Typically, this makes whoever’s in the chair startle, but Wo Fat doesn’t so much as twitch under the harsh bright light that makes the taut skin of his burns look white like bone, a rictus smile on his face as if he’s been waiting for Steve like a grinning skull.

Stripped to his skivvies and hands cuffed to the chair rungs to restrict movement, Wo Fat’s dark eyes are laser-focused on Steve and flicker with unhinged madness. The coldness of the austere grey concrete around them does the thin man no favors. Bruises blossom across his chest and hairline, from where Eddie had taken his pound of flesh in purple and magenta, which makes the ridges of his half-scared face look even more ghoulish. Under the bright spotlight, the man’s frozen eyelid waters even as the other blinks lazily as if unconcerned by the discomforting light. 

“Wo Fat.”

“Steven,” is the sibilant reply. 

“That’s Commander McGarrett to you,” Steve corrects. 

“Oh Stevie, I think we’re beyond formalities, don’t you?” Wo Fat tilts his head, amused and not at all intimidated by Steve’s tactics.  

“No.”  Steve insists. “You don’t know me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve corrects sharply. “You only think you do.”

Wo Fat hums, not batting an eyelash at the hostility Steve is presenting. There’s no way that this monster knows Steve or that he’ll allow him the familiarity to refer to him as one would a friend. “I know a great many things about you.”

“Such as?”

Wo Fat smirks, and it’s a serrated blade sawing at Steve’s last nerve. “I know your favorite foods, your coffee order, and,” Wo Fat pauses for dramatic effect, “I know where you sleep at night. How is Danno?”

Steve resists the urge to punch him. That won’t get Steve what he needs. “That’s Detective Williams to you.”

Wo Fat shrugs, unbothered. “Have you finally told him how you feel? He’s been waiting such a long time.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh, so you have told him. Congratulations?”

Steve keeps his face still, not giving Wo Fat the satisfaction of a reaction even though every word is a needle under Steve’s skin. 

“Or perhaps not. A pity. As I said, you should tell him. Life is so short, after all.”

Is that a threat? It sounded like one. 

“Why?” Steve asks. “Why do you keep doing this?”

The smirk that crosses Wo Fat’s face is a bit too toothy to be sincere and mocks Steve. “Why? You know why.”

“No, I don’t. You were in the wind. Free. Why come back to Oahu?”

“You mean, why come back to torture you.” It isn’t a question, and the chuckle that crackles out of Wo Fat’s ruined throat is harsh and whistles. “She chose you—our Mother. That’s why.”

Steve’s thought process screeches to a halt. “What?”

“Mother chose you. She left me and came back here to have her normal American dream life, leaving me abandoned and fatherless.”

Steve is flabbergasted. 

“Her normal two kids and a husband--leaving me to grow up an orphan. Of course, I’d get a message from her or a care package every so often, but foster care in China isn’t exactly like foster care here.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Wo Fat leans forward, eyes narrowing. “It has everything to do with you.”

“How so?” Steve moves not an inch. 

“You had her. She comes when you call.”

Steve can’t help the laugh that escapes. Wo Fat’s assertion is utterly inaccurate that Doris McGarrett does anything Steve wants her to. “She does not.”

“Oh, but she does. She let you find her when she stayed hidden from me. That says a lot about how our Mother feels about her children.”

“I found her through an investigation,” Steve corrects, although it isn’t precisely accurate. It had been his Dad’s investigation and later Steve’s obsession with his father’s unfinished business.

“Mother let you find her,” Wo Fat insists. 

“And what, if my sister had been the one to find her, then you’d be haunting her?”

“Our sister, and yes.” 

“Mary’s not your anything,” Steve snaps. “You’re nothing to us other than an asshole that won’t go away. You’re not our family.”

“One cannot choose their family,” Wo Fat states flatly. “You should know that by now, Stevie.”

“So what do you want? Doris’ attention?”

“Yes.”

Steve can’t believe this. He’s regretted finding his Mother alive now for years. She’s never anything but trouble whenever she inserts herself in his life. “You know what? You can have her.”

“What?”

“You can have her, Doris.”

“You should not refer to Mother that way,” Wo Fat says with a frown. 

“You’re both deranged. I wash my hands of you. Consider this me asking to be divorced from you and her. As far as I’m concerned, my mother died in that car bomb explosion.”

Wo Fat’s frown deepens. “You can’t get rid of us.”

“Yes, I can. You can keep Doris. If you see her, tell her she’s dead to me.”

Wo Fat appears perplexed. “But she’s Mother...”

“Wrong—she’s your mother. Mine’s dead. Congratulations. I’m sure my sister feels the same.” Mary will probably punch him for this, but she’ll go with him in the end. She’s not said much, but it’s plain to Steve that she’s felt forgotten as Doris tends to only blow into Steve’s life like a hurricane when it suits her.  

“You can’t walk away,” Wo Fat spits, anger coloring his face. “We’re family.”

“No. You and I are nothing. You’re an unwelcome leech who demands my attention like a spoiled child using murder and extortion. If you’d really wanted my attention, you would have knocked on my door like a civilized person, but instead, you wreak havoc on my life, disrupting it and threatening my family.”

“You’re no family of mine,” Steve adds coldly, straightening to parade rest, “and nothing can change my mind.”

Wo Fat adopts a different tone, his body language becoming that of a supplicant. “Steve—“

“I’m done with you. Don’t darken my doorstep ever again,” Steve cuts him off, executing a perfect heel turn and leaving the room, letting the heavy metal door slap closed after him. 

Danny is standing in front of the one-way mirror, his gaze finding Steve. He merely opens his arms, and Steve is in them, burying his face in Danny’s neck. 

“Shhh, I got you, Babe,” Danny says directly into his ear, and Steve can only cling to his lover. The woodsy scent of Danny’s cologne fills his nose as he hides the tears leaking from his eyes in the collar of his dress shirt. “I’ve got you.”

Danny turns off the speaker as Wo Fat begins to rant, threatening Steve with all sorts of terrible things if he won’t come back and talk with his ‘brother’ as Wo Fat refers to himself. Steve ignores anything that isn’t Danny, blocking out the world in favor of the gentle stroke of his lover’s hands on his back, tracing Steve’s spine. 

“I’ve got you,” Danny repeats over and over again, letting Steve take refuge in him. Somehow, Steve manages to straighten enough to press his mouth to Danny’s in a gentle kiss that goes on and on, Danny’s hand migrating to cradle Steve’s head, and when the kiss ends, Steve curls himself around Danny, and they’re sitting in the chair, Danny’s fingers tracing his left ear and spine. 

Steve feels safe.  

It’s a novel experience. 

Danny has his back, and nothing will touch him while he’s in Danny’s arms. 

He isn’t going to allow Wo Fat to remain a threat to Danny. Steve would take every sort of blow sent Danny’s way and be his shield, but as long as Wo Fat is alive, he’ll be a threat to Danny. 

Joe. 

Steve curls tighter into Danny’s chest. 

He knows what he’s going to do.  

Steve will protect his ‘ohana.

***

Retrieving the keys from Duke, the clank the cell door makes as it unlocks is louder than a gunshot in the silence of the concrete cell block. Joe sits calmly, the paperback he is reading set aside, and his hands are on his thighs to show that he has no intent of attacking Steve. 

“You promise,” the words grate on Steve’s vocal cords that have been savaged by the tears he’s shed, “that I’ll never have to worry about him again?”

“Never.”

Steve pauses on the precipice. He knows what Joe is probably going to do. He hasn’t confronted him or demanded more details like he should. 

He’s not going to, either.

Steve is going to trust Joe. He’s extending an olive branch that maybe someday will lead to rebuilding their damaged relationship. Joe’s been his ‘ohana since Steve was a child, and he’s one of the few parts Steve has left from those days. He’ll give Joe a chance to break free of Doris McGarrett’s influence and choose Steve.  

Danny is quietly waiting, leaning against the wall five feet away. His silent support is a protective mantle on Steve’s shoulders. “What do you need?” 

“I need to make a call.”

“Okay.” Steve pulls Joe’s cell phone out of his pocket and holds it out to his former mentor along with his wallet. “I’ve told Duke to release Wo Fat into your custody when you’re ready.”

Joe nods. He’s always been a man of few words, conveying more through a pat on Steve’s shoulder or a quiet, ‘good job’ than giving grandiose speeches. He takes the offered phone and wallet, standing and hesitantly laying his hand on Steve’s left shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. “Having a hand in raising you has been the joy of my life, and I’m proud of you. Thank you for letting me make this right.”

“Joe…”

Joe shakes his head, making Steve fall silent at the pain and wistfulness on Joe’s face. “I don’t deserve whatever you’re about to say, Steve. Maybe later I will.”

“Joe—“

“Later, Steve. We’ll talk later.” Joe releases him, and the skin of Steve’s shoulder prickles without the weight of his touch. 

Not having anything else to say, Steve leaves. 

It’s up to Joe now. 

Later, as he drills Eddie about his intentions towards Buck over a pair of Longboards, he’ll see a plane on a climb coming from Pearl’s direction, and he’ll know without being told that Joe is on it with Wo Fat. 

Do you remember when we first moved in together?

The piano took up the living room

You’d play me boogie-woo give, I play you love songs

You’d say we’re playing house now you still say we are

***

Danny

Steve is holding it together with duct tape and spackle. Still, he is keeping himself together through dinner at Duke’s after spending the afternoon filing paperwork that makes it look legit to have Wo Fat surrendered to Joe’s custody.  

Officially, Joe is escorting Wo Fat back to Colorado for violating his parole, which Wo Fat wasn’t supposed to have, but somehow, he had gotten released, according to the paperwork Danny had filed.

Unofficially… 

Danny has no problem with Steve’s decision to allow Joe to take care of Wo Fat—whatever that might actually mean. A few years ago, he might have, but now he has the benefit of experience to know that some problems don’t fit into neat ethical boxes. They’d tried the legit route more than once, only for Wo Fat to return and kill more people; the body count over the years is easily now into the hundreds with all the damage Wo Fat has done to the people of Hawai’i. 

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.  

Danny isn’t insane.  

That doesn’t mean he isn’t worried about how the decision to hand Wo Fat over to Joe is affecting Steve.  

Steve is Danny’s business. Officially so as of last night. 

He really should think of what to label Steve other than his. It makes Danny sound like a caveman inside his brain, and he doesn’t want to listen to Kono’s teasing or Rachel’s judgy bitching about Steve’s place in Danny’s life without having a ready comeback. 

Babe is what he’s always called Steve from the beginning, the endearment rolling off his tongue at first in sarcasm, and then later, it was thick with layers of meaning. Boyfriend sounds juvenile to Danny’s ear—that’s what Gracie’s pre-teen boyfriends are, not Danny’s very adult Steve. Lover is too private and intimate to call Steve in casual conversation, even if it is accurate.  

Steve’s always been his partner—his work partner. 

Danny kind of likes the implication of life partner, even if the thought of marriage has been giving him hives since his divorce from Rachel. 

Steve isn’t Rachel. He’s a man of his word, like Danny. 

To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish until parted by death… yeah, they’re already there. Saying the words in front of their family and friends would just be a public acknowledgment of what they already are. 

Danny’s lost in thoughts about possibly marrying Steve when Buck twitches into his personal space, eyes darting toward the hotel lobby. “Hey, do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” Danny agrees, curious about what’s got Buck acting so shifty with Eddie casually sitting on the other side of him, their ankles unobtrusively hooked under the table because they can’t stand to be separated. 

Buck separates himself from Eddie, stooping to whisper something in his ear when Eddie reaches for him automatically. Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, but he releases Buck, and Steve, maybe getting some magical signal from Buck, distracts Eddie. 

Danny follows Buck to the lobby. “Okay, what was that about?”

“I need to get Eddie a plane ticket home. We called Christopher earlier, and they haven’t been apart this long in years, and it’s all—“

“It is not your fault,” Danny interrupts before Buck can assign himself blame. The other blonde is nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, hands fidgeting. “Why don’t you let Eddie book his own flight?”

Buck huffs, cheeks dusted pink. “Money can be tight for Eddie. Kids are expensive.”

“That they are,” Danny agrees. He’s also aware that LA is about as expensive to live in as Hawai’i is. “So you want to buy his ticket?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Why haven’t you asked him?”

“It’s my fault that Eddie—“

“We already agreed that it’s not,” Danny again cuts him off. “So, plane ticket. When?”

“Tomorrow night? Most of the planes to the Mainland leave at night, so he can see Kono surf and get home to Christopher quickly. He’s been away too long.”

“You already said that,” Danny attempts to calm Buck down before he can get too wound up. “Short notice is not going to be cheap, but because of HPD, we have some connections.”

“Connections?” Buck visibly perks up. 

“Don’t go emptying your bank account. We should be able to get something reasonable.”

“Now?”

Danny holds back the urge to roll his eyes. Buck operates on the same time frame expectation that Steve does. The fact that they’re not genetically related continues to astound him. “Do they teach this enthusiasm in Seal school, or is it issued with the uniform?”

Buck grins and it’s like sunlight on a cloudy day. “Nah. We’re just overeager to get on with things. Hooyah?”

“Don’t you even start that,” Danny grumbles under his breath which gains him another smile. “Does your boy fly economy with his long legs, or would business class be better?”

Buck at least pretends to think for two seconds before turning on the puppy eyes. “Business? Eds has really long legs.”

“Not as long as yours.”

“Danny,” Buck whines, “you don’t understand. Economy is painful when you’ve got legs like Eddie’s.”

“Stop!” Danny waves his hands, giving up. He’s got zero defenses against those puppy dog eyes when Steve makes them, but it’s somehow worse when it’s Buck. He can only imagine how bad Eddie’s are, given he has big brown eyes and criminally long eyelashes with a tiny beauty mark on the left. “Let me make a call.”

“Thank you, Danno.”

Danny wags his finger under Buck’s nose as he dials. “None of that.”

Buck’s grin is unrepentant, and Danny is soon connected to HPD’s travel liaison, Jenny, who is unfortunately very used to odd requests from 5-0 and doesn’t miss a beat when Danny requests travel to be booked for Edmundo Diaz for tomorrow night, preferably with extra leg room available only in business class or better. In five minutes, Danny has her sending him a travel confirmation for tomorrow night to his email. 

“I hope the 8:40 works for you?” 

“Uh, you mean the 2040, right? Not an AM flight?”

Danny does roll his eyes then. “Yes. 2040. That work?”

“Yeah.”

“Then your boy will be flying Hawaiian Airlines First Class since they don’t have business class to LA. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

The bear hug Buck gives him lifts Danny off his feet. 

“Put me down!”

“Aww, Danno,” Buck teases as he lets Danny’s feet touch the ground where they’re meant to be. 

“Don’t Danno me,” Danny grumbles, but it’s more out of habit than anything. 

“Thank you.”

‘“Don’t mention it. Let’s rescue your boy from Steve before he runs for the hills.”

“Nah, Eddie’s not the type. He gets petty and vicious when threatened. He can take Steve.”

“Oh, can he?” Danny asks in interest, remembering how Eddie had taken on Wo Fat.

“Not like that,” Buck chuckles. “If Eddie doesn’t like Steve, he’ll just get judgy and bitchy. Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

“No, I just realized why Eddie was the way he was to Abby and Taylor.”

Danny gestures for Buck to explain as they return to their table. 

“Eddie doesn’t like Taylor, and he treats Abby—my ex—like gum on his shoe. It makes sense now.”

“Your boy has your back?”

“Yeah, he always does.”

***

Dinner is relaxing for once. The company is excellent, the food and drink fantastic, and the sunset beautiful. Buck is making the most of his short time with Eddie, who is all up in his lover’s personal space, and Danny thinks it’s cute how Eddie’s attention is always on Buck and vice versa.  

It makes him think he and Steve have a chance to last when he sees a pair who’ve been through so much and are still in love, sharing food and licking each other’s spoons. Steve is a warm wall of muscle pressed into Danny’s side, reassuringly present, and Danny doesn’t jump when Steve drapes his arm over his shoulders to tuck him more securely into his partner’s body.  

Oh, how much a day can change everything, and yet nothing. Steve and he have been doing this dance since the day they met, and Danny took offense to Steve invading his space and punched him after Steve got Danny shot.  

His shoulder still aches when it rains. Danny should make Steve use his fingers to massage the ache now that he has bedroom privileges. 

When Steve surrenders the keys, Danny knows it’s also a signal that they’re going home together tonight.  

They say their goodbyes to Buck and Eddie, who are headed for a walk on the beach, and Danny refrains from saying anything salacious. The way that Eddie reaches for Buck’s hand makes his inner romantic want to coo, which probably means that Danny needs to stop watching the Hallmark channel with Gracie around the holidays before he melts his tough guy image completely. 

Steve’s hand covers his on the gear shift as he drives home, fingers lacing with Danny’s. The heat of Steve’s palm atop his matches the slow burn of arousal in Danny’s gut. His partner doesn’t loom over him as he unlocks the door, both taking off their shoes before making their way toward the bedroom.  

It’s been a long day. They’re both emotionally wrung out from the confrontation with Wo Fat. “Shower, Babe?”

⚓️ 

In answer, Steve shucks his pants and underwear in one move before straightening, eyes fastened on Danny’s as he slowly tugs his shirt northward and off, exposing the treasure trail that points like an arrow toward Steve’s stirring cock. Thighs flex as he steps toward Danny, who is frozen and his mouth has gone dry. 

Steve’s body is a work of art. Toned yet imperfect and marred by old wounds that have left behind scars that Danny doesn’t know all the stories to yet but will eventually. His masculinity is defined by the swell of his cock between his thighs, body turning to display him to Danny’s roving gaze in a private show that is confident and intimate. Danny’s fingers itch to trace those tattoo-covered shoulders that he’s only begun to memorize.

“You’re overdressed, Danny,” Steve says huskily as he approaches. Danny’s mouth opens to reply, but he can’t say anything because Steve’s mouth is on his.  

Steve kisses like he fights. Aggressive yet adaptive. Danny gives as good as he gets, not surrendering any ground without a thorough discussion between tongues and lips, unmindful of Steve’s efficient fingers ridding him of his clothing. 

He can’t help but laugh when Steve breaks their kiss to make a frustrated noise. 

“You and your damn belts,” Steve snarls before resuming his campaign to make Danny’s knees melt. 

“At least I gave up on the ties?” Danny teases. 

“Fucking ties—I used to think about using them to tie you to my bed,” Steve grumbles, nipping at Danny’s mouth. 

“What stopped you?” Danny asks when they break for air. 

Steve cocks his head, a mischievous light in his eyes. “You want me to restrain you, Danny?”

Danny will deny to his dying day that his cock jerked and dribbled precome at the idea of Steve tying him up with his own ties. “No.”

Steve clocks him immediately, his smile becoming wicked. “We’ll have to try it sometime. Tonight,” he pauses, pressing their foreheads together, “I just want you.”

“Then have me, Babe. I’m all yours.”

“Always such a smart mouth. Drives me crazy,” Steve growls before kissing Danny breathless again. 

Somehow, they make it into the shower, plastered together from mouth to groin as hot water rains down on them. Pressed into the slick tile wall, Danny has a death grip on the shower knob as Steve drops to his knees and swallows him to the root making him shout. The wet heat of Steve’s throat contracting around him has Danny seeing stars, and he’d be on the floor if it weren’t for Steve’s iron grip keeping him upright as his knees give out, leaving him pinned between Steve and the tiles, coming down his throat going zero to sixty like a teenager.

Steve withdraws just enough to swallow everything, suckling at the head of Danny’s cock like it’s a damned treat, then giving kitten licks to the slit to gather the last few drops as his hand strokes Danny through the aftershocks, eyes glittering behind waterlogged lashes observing every twitch Danny makes.

If Steve ever decides to use the carnal knowledge he’s gained about Danny for evil, Danny is fucked. 

He’ll follow Steve anywhere.  

Feeling like Bambi on ice, Danny allows Steve to manhandle him some more. For all that he constantly is on Danny that navy showers are all that’s needed, Steve indulges in carefully soaping up every inch of their bodies, stroking and teasing Danny through his refractory period until he’s hard and aching again, the water beginning to cool. 

“Babe,” Danny whines, trying to recapture Steve’s mouth with his. 

“Bed, Danny,” Steve urges and withdraws, making Danny follow him out of the hazy heat of the shower. 

Cursory attempts are made at ridding themselves of excess water before they reconnect, but they cannot keep apart. Steve is everywhere, hands grasping and stroking Danny’s body as he attempts to anchor himself and climb Steve like a tree. They are no less hasty or heated than the night prior as they fall into bed in a tangle of limbs, tongues dueling for control. 

When Danny ends up underneath, he arches into Steve in supplication, begging for his attention. “Please, Babe.”

“What do you need?” 

“You. Just you.”

Steve is all Danny needs tonight. 

One leg hiked up over Steve’s shoulder, and the other wrapped around his waist. Danny feels split in two as Steve enters him in one long push. Steve fills him up and then withdraws only to advance again, their bodies finding a rhythm as old as time as they join in a carnal dance, mouths fused and hands anchoring them together. Each powerful thrust of Steve’s hips is accompanied by the pull of Danny’s legs urging him to return balls deep.  

The head of Steve’s cock nails Danny’s prostate dead on with the precision of a tactical strike, making stars burst in Danny’s vision. It’s a dizzying climb to the peak, and then the free fall of orgasm hits him like an avalanche, toes curling and back strung into a bow as he tightens around Steve as he buries himself to the hilt in Danny’s ass with a shout, hips rocking through the aftershocks as he comes. 

Danny is a marionette with cut strings, his limbs gone lax as Steve withdraws and he attempts to protest, his pathetic moan making Steve chuckle and kiss him on the nose. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Let me get something to wash up with.”

Danny’s fingers slide off Steve’s sweat-slick skin, too uncoordinated to hold him. 

“I’ll be right back.”

“Babe…”

Steve returns moments later and a warm washcloth cleans the mess dribbling from Danny’s hole. An exhaled puff of air tickles Danny’s belly before a wet tongue begins cleaning his abs, dipping teasingly into his navel before completing its job. Still foggy from back-to-back orgasms, Danny mutters in annoyance as Steve spoons him, rearranging his limbs and fluffing the pillow that is wedged under their heads.  

The press of lips to the nape of his neck is barely noticed as his eyelids droop and sleep calls. 

This night is one of Danny's best nights of sleep in years, and he spends it wrapped in Steve. 

⚓️ 

But I was crazy about you then and now

The crazies thing of all, over ten years have gone by

And you’re still mine, we’re locked in time

Let’s rewind

***

 

Buck

Buck loves waking up wrapped around Eddie. He never dreamed that he’d get this, and Eddie’s adorable grumpiness and begging for five more minutes makes his heart somersault in his chest. The way Eddie’s nose scrunches up, and his arms tighten their grip around Buck so he can bury his face in Buck’s neck and hide from the sunlight is endearing.

As if Buck could leave Eddie when he’s sleep warm and clingy. 

He’d sooner be drug away by a herd of elephants. 

Buck had bargained with himself that he wasn’t going for a swim this morning. Not on Eddie’s last morning before he gets on a plane tonight.  

Today is for spending the entire day with Eddie. They’ll watch Kono wipe out the competition on the waves and then spend the rest of the day wrapped up in each other before Buck relinquishes Eddie to return home. 

Home. 

He’s been avoiding thinking of home.

Mainly because as lovely as Hawai’i is, and as many perks as there are to working with Steve… LA is home because everyone else he loves is back there, as is the job he feels is his life’s calling. 

Buck’s not ready to go back. 

Or perhaps more accurately, he knows he needs a few more weeks of talking things through with Mamo before tackling the conversation he knows he needs to have with Bobby to know if LA can still be the physical location he calls home 

Also, home is rapidly becoming redefined as wherever Eddie and Christopher are. Buck could do without many things—he has done so in the past. He can’t live without Eddie and Christopher.  

They’re his, and he’s theirs. 

When Eddie starts to stir, Buck runs his open hand up and down his lover’s back, coaxing him towards wakefulness. He’s rewarded with the most beautiful smile, and Eddie immediately cranes his neck for a good morning kiss. 

“Morning,” Eddie whispers against his mouth, body languidly stretching against Buck’s, their skin sliding together in a way that’s quite nice. 

“Good morning.”

Eddie squints at the sun coming through the blinds. “I thought you’d be up and gone for a swim by now?”

“Not today,” Buck answers, pressing his mouth against Eddie’s and sighing as a questing tongue slips between his lips to tease him. 

“Why not?” Eddie asks when they break for breath before resuming the kiss. 

Buck rolls them, putting Eddie beneath him, letting his thighs frame Eddie’s slender hips in a stretch that pulls at his sore ass. They’d awoken twice last night for seconds and then thirds.  

He can’t get enough of Eddie.  

He won’t ever have enough.  

🌊 

Eddie catches the twinge of pain, however, and urges him to settle so their morning erections are pressed together. A hand sneaks between them to grip them both and give a tug and rub.  

“Hnnng,” Buck manages, jerking in Eddie’s grip, his cock filling and beginning to leak. 

“That’s it, cariño.” Eddie croons, swiping his tongue across the head to gather the precome and then uses it as a lubricant. “You’ve got more to give me.”

Buck arches his back, rolling his shoulders and grinding down into Eddie’s pelvis, the fingers around him maddeningly twisting and sneaking to gather every dribble of precome to add to the wet glide of foreskin on foreskin. 

“Put on a show for me, Buck. Let me see you come like this, on top of me. Show me what you have to give, cariño.”

Eddie isn’t holding him down. It’s Buck that’s pressing as close as possible, rolling his hips into the tightening hand and feeling Eddie’s cock jerk hot against his. There’s not enough friction. He can’t…

The blunt press of two lubed fingers against his hole has him violently seizing in Eddie’s grip, thighs sliding open as he impales himself on them with a drawn-out groan. The stretch burns, but it’s good, and he rocks between the two points of stimulation, cock and prostate, as Eddie expertly plays him like a finely tuned instrument, his notes a symphony of sighs, moans, and shouts. 

“Come for me, cariño,” is the order, and Buck is coming, balls drawing up and emptying between them as Eddie strokes him through the aftershocks, drawing out the almost painful high.  

Eddie hasn’t come yet, and before Eddie can jerk himself off, Buck is moving down until he can swallow him down without the angle being awkward. It’s been a while since Buck was regularly blowing another male, but the weight of Eddie’s cock on his tongue and the taste of his precome urges him on, as do the little hitches of the hips underneath him that he rides like a surfer atop a wave, relaxing his throat to take more and sealing his lips around the shaft to suck messily, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth. 

He greedily wants every last drop, so he suckles hungrily and inches his way down until the head of Eddie’s cock is lodged deep in his throat, and he can swallow around him with a hum. 

“Cariño! Buck!” Eddie writhes beneath him, and now it’s Buck in control, pushing Eddie’s thighs apart with his shoulders as he lifts Eddie to take him even deeper, the angle better for him to bob his head as he increases the pace to blistering and sucks hard. 

Eddie jackknifes in his grip as he comes, hands scrambling to hold onto whatever part of Buck he can reach as his heels dig into Buck’s back before going limp like a cooked noodle, eyes rolled back and breathing rapid and shallow as Buck swallows the last few drops. He allows Eddie to settle back onto the bed and climbs back up to kiss him on the mouth, opening his lips when Eddie revives enough to slip him some tongue with a moan. 

🌊 

When they separate, Eddie’s grin is soft and just for Buck. It makes him look younger and carefree. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Buck agrees, holding back a laugh. 

“What time do we need to be moving to get to Kono’s surf competition?”

“Probably pretty soon. Traffic is going to be horrible.”

Eddie hums, not moving other than to stroke Buck’s lower back, his fingernails lightly scratching in a soothing motion.

“I…uh,” Buck stammers, wondering how to tell Eddie he got him a way back to Christopher. 

“You what?”

“I had Danny get you a ticket back to LA.”

Eddie’s hand stills, and he shifts underneath Buck so he can see his eyes. “When?”

“It’s for tonight. I didn’t want you to be away from Christopher longer than umph!”

Eddie smashes their mouths together, hands clutching Buck close as he tries to climb under his skin. Buck is not passive; he’s an active participant in the kiss, rolling with Eddie in the sheets as they aggressively make out and become tangled in the bedclothes. 

“Buck,” Eddie whispers his name breathlessly before recapturing Buck’s mouth. “Thank you.”

“I… I….,” Buck struggles to catch his breath and find the words to explain.

“Are you coming with?”

“No.”

Eddie goes still as a statue, expression stoney. “You’re not?”

“No.” Buck can’t read Eddie, and he’s scared. 

“Okay,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Eddie, I—“ Buck tries to stop Eddie from pulling back and follows him as he rolls up to sit cross-legged on the bed. Eddie is rubbing his unshaven cheeks, dark gaze still locked on Buck. 

“Buck, I said I’ll wait, and I mean it.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No. I’m not. I don’t like being away from you, but I can wait,” Eddie insists, scrubbing at his hair, which is sticking up on one side. 

“You’re sure?” Buck presses. He needs Eddie to be okay with him staying. Maybe he should go with…

“I mean what I said yesterday. I want you to take care of yourself. I want you to be with me when you’re ready, and we can move here if you want.”

“I’m not sure I want that,” Buck interrupts. “The here part. Hawai’i.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees and patiently waits for him to say more, not rushing Buck. 

“I’d been making progress with Mamo before you got taken. I think I need to work more with him before deciding.”

“Okay.”

“I haven’t changed my mind about you and Christopher,” Buck assures him. “I just don’t know about LA.”

“Can I make a suggestion? You don’t have to agree to it.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t talk to Bobby for you. Eventually, you’re going to need to.”

Buck suddenly wishes he wasn’t naked, but Eddie’s touch on his arm settles him. It grounds him and takes the anxiety down a notch.

“I… I probably need to talk to him, too. It wasn’t just you that had an issue with him, and I left some things unsaid. I wasn’t joking when I said we’d have to figure out where we’re going.”

“You’re not going to have an issue,” Buck growls. “Steve talked to him about why you’re here.”

“That’s not it. I messed up, and I’ll be dealing with making that right on my own, but,” Eddie pauses and takes a deep breath, “I’ll be ready for you when you’re ready for me.”

“Eddie, I…are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Eddie says a bit too quickly, and it makes Buck worry that he’s choosing the wrong thing by staying, no matter what Eddie tells him verbally. “We should get dressed and head for the beach.”

“Yeah…”

“C’mon, cariño. I want to see these waves Kono is going to be riding.”

“They’re big,” Buck cautions, hesitating. He’s not sure he’s ready to see that big of waves after Santa Monica. 

“As multiple people have mentioned. Are you okay?” Eddie frowns and pauses half out of the bed. 

“I’ll be okay. Just don’t leave me?” Buck’s asking is not just about today. He’s asking about forever.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Buck.” 

The forever goes unsaid, but Buck hears it nonetheless. He climbs out of bed after Eddie, heading for the shower, which he intends to share with his lover. 

He’s going to savor today. They have today and forever to figure out where they will live.

***

He was right about traffic being terrible. The moment they turn toward the North Shore, traffic is snarled and moves at a crawl. Everyone who doesn’t have to work is headed to the contest, both residents and tourists alike. 

Eddie is wearing one of the t-shirts Buck picked out for him, and a rainbow map of Hawaii is stretched across his pecs. Buck wants to bite the tiny peak of nipple he can see that is approximately located where Hilo is on the Big Island, enjoying the drape of the dark blue vintage cotton over Eddie’s muscular frame as he relaxes in the passenger seat with the window open. 

Instead, he focuses on traffic and driving, letting Eddie enjoy looking around and letting the warm wind ruffle his hair. 

The closer they get to the competition, the slower going it becomes. Eddie becomes proficient in flashing shaka signs to those walking alongside the road. Buck’s badge gets them waved past the officers doing traffic control, and he heads to the address Kono had texted him where she’s been offered a house to relax at between heats run by one of her old professional circuit contacts. 

The house is right on the water, overlooking the beach. Buck knows he doesn’t want to ask what a place like this sells for, as it’s way out of his league. Adam is set up on the deck overlooking the bay. Kono all but skips down the stairs to throw herself at them, bursting with energy and already in her surfing jersey with a crown of plumeria flowers in her hair that has been plaited into a long whip-like braid that flutters with the Hawaiian flag she has draped across her shoulders like a cloak. 

“Aloha!”

“Aloha,” Eddie laughs as he catches her and spins her around. 

“The opening ceremony starts in twenty minutes! You almost missed it!”

“Sorry,” Buck apologizes as he takes her from Eddie, giving her a huge, squeezing hug. 

“Do you need help?” Eddie asks, and Kono puts them to work, hauling her two boards down to the beach. 

They have to wind through a maze of beach blankets, chairs, and coolers, with kids running every which way as each inch of beach has been claimed by someone. Because they’re with Kono, they get through the security checkpoint and get a prime seat to watch the ceremony. Steve and Danny appear out of nowhere, with badges on their hips, just as the crowd quiets down and the ceremony begins.  

Mamo is among the kahunas doing the blessing, wearing a lei around his neck and a matching crown of braided maile leaves on his head. The competitors encircle the kahunas, and a prayer is said in Hawaiian that Buck doesn’t understand but can feel in his bones. When the prayer is done, a group of male hula dancers gather at the water’s edge in formation. Mamo is holding a round drum and starts a rapid beat while calling loudly out across the beach.

A pair of double-hulled sea canoes called wa’akaulua cross the bay, Hawaiian flags flying proudly, and seashell horns blowing, and it’s a signal that the dancers were waiting for. 

The men in traditional dress shout in unison before adopting the same pose while Mamo chants, his voice rising and falling in a song that sounds ancient to Buck’s ears. When the men move, it’s in perfect synchrony. Their muscle control is exquisite as they dip, twirl, and twist in a display that can only be seen in its proper form here in Hawai’i by the people who have been doing it for a thousand years. 

“Wow,” Eddie says, voice curling into Buck’s ear and making him shiver. Eddie notices and drapes his arm over Buck’s shoulder to pull him close.  

“Yeah. Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

“No. I’m glad we came.”

“Me too.”

Kono is up with the other competitors, head ducked, and receives a hug from Mamo and the other kahunas at the ceremony’s conclusion. Buck keeps an eye on her as she’s issued her competitor number and heads back toward them. 

“What heat are you in?” Steve asks, having been quietly talking to Danny while Buck cuddled into Eddie. 

“Second group.”

“Okay. Back to the house?”

“Yeah.”

“This is a hurry up and wait type thing, isn’t it?” Eddie mutters, sharing a sly smile with Buck.

“Looks like it.”

“Wanna find a spot and make out?”

Eddie takes him up on that, albeit not for very long. Kono has a long list of people to whom she wants to introduce them, but Buck quickly loses track of their names. Chin also shows up, and the whole house is in a good mood when Kono reports for her first heat.  

Buck’s done a good job of not looking at the waves crashing offshore before now—and they’re monsters. 

“Relax. Kono grew up on waves like that,” Eddie tells him, arms wrapping around Buck’s waist as he rests his chin on Buck’s shoulder. 

“They’re not as big as the tsunami wave… but they remind me of it,” Buck admits quietly. 

“Kono told me she’s what’s known as a water woman. She grew up on the water. She’s like Moana but doesn’t have a sidekick rooster.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Nope,” Eddie smirks. “She did. I told her if she ever had a call sign, it should be Moana.”

“I can’t believe you said that!”

“We had a lot of time to fill. I probably know her better than my sisters.”

Buck opens and closes his mouth before deciding the better part of Valor isn’t continuing this conversation. “So, waves.”

“Waves. Big ass waves,” Eddie says sagely, thumb rubbing against Buck’s left hip bone. 

“Kono is going to ride one of them.”

“Several of them. She gets thirty minutes per heat to score.”

“Gah!” Buck covers his eyes with his hands. “I can’t watch.”

Eddie turns him and gently wraps his fingers around Buck’s wrists to pull his hands down. There’s a concerned frown on his face, and Buck wants to smooth the worry line between his eyebrows away. “Cariño, do we need to go?” He asks seriously. 

Buck takes a deep breath and holds it briefly before letting it out. He can hear the waves crashing over the noise of people talking on the beach, the announcers calling out commentary of the surfers paddling out to catch the waves, which includes Kono, Buck’s ears catching on the mention of her name. 

Can he watch this? And not have nightmares?

He won’t have Eddie tonight. Eddie is going home to LA and Christopher. 

Kono’s name is again mentioned, and he twitches with the urge to turn around and see what she’s doing. 

“Is Kono…?”

Eddie squints. They have a pair of binoculars to use like everyone else is on the deck, including Adam, who’s whooping Kono’s name and cheering her on. “She’s moving to catch this one.”

Buck moves, snatching the binoculars up and looking for Kono. Sure enough, she’s furiously paddling just in front of the wave, and she’s going to catch it. As Buck watches, she pops up and finds her balance, tipping down the face of the wave that is rising from the water and shooting into the barrel where she cuts back and forth, turning and seeming to dance on the wall of water, braid streaming behind her like a banner. 

It’s a hell of a ride, wild and fast, but Kono makes it look easy as she crouches low and picks up speed to disappear in the curl of water.  

“Did she make it?” Eddie asks, having picked up his own binoculars. 

“Wait for it,” Buck says, counting seconds in his head as the wave starts to collapse in a frothy white storm of turbulence. 

Kono, ever lucky, shoots out the end and jumps into the air on her board before landing on her feet, hands up in the air in a V as her feet pump to maintain momentum and stay atop her board. 

“She did it!”

Kono then hops down to lie flat on her board and begins the long journey back out to the surf line up to wait on her next wave as her competition starts paddling to catch the wave beginning to crest. 

“How many waves does she need to catch?” Buck asks rhetorically, not necessarily expecting an answer.  

“At least one more for this heat, but she’ll catch as many as she can.” Steve answers. “Kono’s going for a win, not a participation trophy.”

“For sure,” Chin agrees. 

“These waves are scary,” Danny offers, bumping his hip against Buck’s in solidarity.  

“Oh god,” Buck mutters as the surfer after Kono wipes out spectacularly, their body going one way and their lime green board the other. The wave is massive, and it’s easily sixty feet or more on its face when it begins to crash down. The people on the beach start scrambling for high ground as the water rushes in, and, for a split second, Buck hears Christopher asking him where the water has gone. 

“I’ve got you, cariño. It’s not like Santa Monica,” Eddie’s voice cuts through the mental fog, and he unfreezes. 

The beach crowd slips and slides as the water comes in, some body surfing and whooping in excitement rather than horror. While there is a lot of water, the worst of it gets to about mid-thigh height for those closest to the water. Lifeguards are on top of things, fishing out those who lost their balance and yanking out kids who would rather play in the surf than be on dry land. 

“That one was a bay clearer. There’ll be more of those today,” Chin says sagely. “Kono’ll catch the next one.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Buck whines, finding Kono safe and sound atop her board, waiting her turn in the lineup. 

Everyone except Eddie laughs. “Kono dreams of waves like this, bruh,” Chin teases, patting Buck on the back. “She’ll be fine.”

Ever attuned to Buck, Eddie threads their fingers together and cradles Buck protectively with his body, continuing to talk in Buck’s ear. “Watch. See how the kids are having fun with the waves? They’re not screaming because they’re scared—they’re body surfing. Remember how you told Christopher to just keep swimming? Well, these kids are doing that. They’re all water babies.”

“Was Christopher a water baby?” Buck asks, latching onto the fleeting idea. 

He feels Eddie’s shrug. “I… he did adore bath time when I was home, but Shannon never really commented about it other than like it was a chore. Bath time was usually when she’d hang up on me at the end of a call, so I didn’t experience it much.”

Buck’s heart aches for the regret in Eddie’s voice. Eddie has said before that he missed a lot of milestones with Christopher due to deployment and that he regretted it then as well as now. It’s why Christmas is such a big deal in the Diaz household—Eddie making as many memories as possible now that he is home.

They’d talked a little bit about more kids, and the idea distracts Buck from the big waves crashing in. 

“See, they just keep swimming,” Eddie points to a group of kids whooping and laughing as they body surf along the beach. More than a few adults are wading into the water, watching over the smaller kids and having fun. 

Buck takes a shaky breath. “I still dream sometimes about losing Christopher in the wave.”

Eddie takes his time to pick his response, his thumb rubbing against the back of Buck’s hand. “I may have taken him to his surf lessons, but you’re the one who found them,” he says, referencing Buck’s semi-exhaustive research into surfing lessons for kids with mobility issues until he found an instructor who also had CP and specialized in kids with special needs. It’d been a perfect match as Alex and Christopher got on like a house on fire during their lessons. Eddie, however, isn’t done. “You got him into climbing. You do yoga with him and me. You make our lives so much better, Buck.”

“I do?”  

“You do, Buck. And Christopher is a much better swimmer because you got him into surfing. After all, you swim with him on our days off when it gets too hot.”

“That’s because you don’t like going to the beach alone,” Buck huffs. 

“I like going to the beach with you and Christopher,” Eddie corrects, but Buck can’t argue that it isn’t true. Eddie had been a little anxious the first time Buck talked him into taking Christopher to the beach after they’d met, but it’s been an activity in regular rotation for their days off in the summer the last two years. 

They haven’t yet gone since the tsunami, but that’s mainly because of the lawsuit mess—because of Buck. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t gone lately.”

Eddie makes a noise in his throat of protest. “It’s not your fault. We both could have made the effort. I was… fuck! I needed to get over Shannon.”

Buck isn’t sure what Eddie means by that statement. “What do you mean?”

The arms around Buck squeeze briefly as if Eddie is afraid he’ll run away. “I was so angry because I let Shannon in again, and she left me again. I… I didn’t want to think about it, but when you pulled away, it felt like you were leaving me, too.”

“Eddie, I—“

“Let me finish,” Eddie insists, adjusting his hold on Buck. “I know you weren’t. You were trying to get back to me—us—and we’ve had some communication issues.”

“Is that all?” Buck jokes mildly, but it falls flat. 

“For the most part? Yeah, but we’re talking now.”

“We are,” Buck agrees. “We’re doing more than that.”

“Yeah, we are.”  

Buck has been so preoccupied with Eddie that the next bay clearing wave that comes in doesn’t make him flinch. 

“Kono’s up next,” Eddie points out, and sure enough, The flash of Kono’s bright yellow jersey as she pops up catches Buck’s attention. He’s lifting his binoculars to watch Kono catch what’ll later be called the best ride of the day. The picture taken of her hanging suspended midair, a grin on her face as she cuts down the face of the wave, will be the picture on the cover of the Honolulu-Star Advertiser tomorrow alongside her podium picture where she’s covered in a carpet of congratulatory leis that have been hung around her neck like the surfing goddess she is.

***

Their shared day goes by quickly—too quickly. Eddie eventually talks Buck into taking a walk on the beach before they have to head for the airport, and it’s nice to have Eddie’s hand in his while they amble along the shore, getting their feet wet but staying away from the monster waves in Waimea Bay by going further up the coast towards Turtle Bay. Lunch is from Kamekona’s food truck, which is doing brisk business, and Shamu himself tries to talk Buck into putting on an apron and playing sous chef, but he’s not doing that today. 

Today is for Eddie. For them, together. 

Indulging in Kamekona’s shrimp plate and huli huli chicken, they finish with a trip into Haleiwa and stop at Matsumoto’s for shave ice. They are a bit braver in their flavor combinations than their first time the day before, and Buck thinks the guava and blue vanilla aren’t half bad. Still, Eddie’s choice of the lilikoi is fantastic, as is the lychee he gets when he returns for seconds and the mochi extras.

They have discolored tongues from sharing their desserts when they’re done. 

Eddie picks up a few more souvenirs, including a box of pineapples that are specially packaged to take home. “Christopher will get a kick out of them,” he admits with a shy smile. Buck wants to buy Eddie all the pineapples if it gets him that smile again. 

They head back for Kono’s second heat as she’s advanced past the first round with the highest score due to her second ride. The waves keep coming, and the surfers ride as many as they can catch. 

At the end of it, Kono wins both the women’s division as well as overall. She’s the first woman to win the Eddie, and it’s only the eleventh time the contest has gone in forty years. To say the celebration of her win is ecstatic would be an understatement.

The party is only starting to get into full swing when Buck has to pull Eddie away from talking with Kawika about living in Hawai’i to tell him they must head to the airport. Eddie insists on saying goodbye to Kono and the rest of 5-0, which takes another half hour. 

Buck’s heart aches because his Hawaiian family has embraced Eddie. 

They could move here. 

With Christopher.

Buck’s heart twists in indecision as he drives the truck toward the airport, Eddie’s hand resting atop his free one. 

Stepping out of the car, Buck can’t help but follow Eddie. Grabbing the duffle bag with the few souvenirs that Eddie has purchased for their friends and family along with the few articles of clothing he’d gained, Buck’s fingers feel empty once he hands it over. He watches silently as Eddie slings the strap over one shoulder, the box of fresh pineapple next to his foot.  

This is it—Eddie is going home without him, and it feels like Buck is standing on the edge of a cliff. 

Buck doesn’t want Eddie to leave him. He doesn’t want the distance again. However, staying isn’t an option. Christopher has been missing his father for over a week already, and Hondo’s covering for Eddie’s work absence has a time limit, as you can’t put in a vacation request for being kidnapped and held hostage.

Standing at the curb, a steady stream of people move around them, just a foot or so between their bodies, and Eddie is already too far away. Buck wants to reach out and tangle his hand in the annoyingly bright aloha shirt Eddie had put on over his T-shirt after it got wet and never let go. 

Eddie’s eyes are locked on his and he can tell that Eddie feels the same. 

They don’t want to be apart.

Why is he staying again? 

Before he can rethink his decision and doubt everything, Eddie closes the distance between them and wraps Buck in his arms. 

“Ev,” is the soft call of his name as Eddie tucks his face into the angle of neck and shoulder, breath puffing against Buck’s bare skin, causing goosebumps to erupt down Buck’s spine. The tight squeeze of Eddie’s arms around him betrays the slight shake as their bodies curl around one another, trying to get as close as possible. 

“I’ll call as soon as I get home.”

Burying his face in Eddie’s neck, Buck presses a kiss to the spot just below the ear. “You better. Give Christopher a hug and a kiss from me?”

Turning, Eddie rubs the side of his unshaven face against Buck’s before touching their lips together. The kiss is close-mouthed, gentle, and doesn’t feel like a goodbye. Buck leans into it, silently pleading for Eddie not to go when he can’t verbalize the request. He knows why Eddie has to go. 

He really does. 

That doesn’t mean he must like or be happy about it. 

“Eds,” Buck’s voice breaks with emotion, trying to tell Eddie how much he’ll miss him and loves him. 

The slide of Eddie’s hand against his skin as he cups Buck’s chin makes his lips tremble. “This is just for now, Buck,” Eddie promises, eyes dry but red-rimmed. Eddie isn’t crying like Buck, but he is no less affected by their upcoming separation. “I’m going to see how soon I can get some time off, and I’ll be back. Maybe I’ll even bring Christopher this time. He’ll love meeting everyone.”

Trying to smile, Buck presses a kiss into Eddie’s palm. His reluctance to return to California seems stupid all of a sudden. Eddie lives in California, where he also lives and has an apartment full of his things. There are many great things about LA, but… he needs to think more and cover for Kono while she’s out taking care of Adam. He isn’t ready to go back. 

Yet.

“I’ll miss you,” Buck promises Eddie. 

“Me too.” The sadness in Eddie’s eyes urges Buck to promise things he shouldn’t 

“Call me?”

“As soon as I land,” Eddie repeats. 

“As soon as you land,” Buck echoes, then adds, “I love you.” 

Shit. Now was not the time to say that for the first time outside of sex… but it is true. He needs Eddie to know before he gets on that plane, and Buck refuses to look away from the love of his life as he confesses his feelings where everyone else can hear. 

Eddie stills against him, his breath caught for a second before the arms around Buck squeeze even tighter. “I love you too, Evan,” he breathes out before they kiss again. This isn’t like the last kiss—this one is passionate, hungry, and claiming. Buck enthusiastically dives in, opening his mouth to allow Eddie’s tongue to dip in and begin to dance. 

In the light of sunset, outside the Honolulu Departures Terminal, Buck has finally been brave enough to say the words outside the bedroom. 

I love you. 

His heart thunders in his chest.  

Eddie loves him back.

Buck is breathless from kissing but feels like he is running a marathon. The exhilaration and adrenaline coursing through him make him feel like he is skydiving. This is new and addictive, and he wants never to lose the feeling of being in Eddie’s arms like this. 

Eventually, they have to part to breathe, but Eddie doesn’t release his hold. “I love you,” he repeats, lips brushing against Buck’s as Eddie speaks the words against his mouth. “Love you, cariño.”

This close, Eddie’s eyelashes are incredibly long and curly as they flutter, sneaking looks at Buck even as they are pressed again into another toe-curling kiss, and everything around them falls away. 

Buck thought falling in love was different from this, but he swears he hears music playing just for them—a combination of Hawaiian traditional music and Elvis’ Blue Hawai’i. The feeling of Eddie wrapped around him warms Buck to the core, and he knows he’ll always be cold without Eddie by his side.

Eddie is his sun, moon, and stars.  

He’s everything.  

The announcement of boarding beginning for Eddie’s flight finally makes its way into Buck’s consciousness, and he pulls back slightly. “You’re going to miss your flight,” he tells Eddie even as he leans forward to kiss him again. 

Eddie pecks him lightly on the lips before sighing. “You’re right. I have to go,” he adds mournfully. 

“I know,” Buck agrees, putting just a bit of distance between their bodies as he breaks out of Eddie’s hold. “I love you.”

The smile that spreads across Eddie’s face at his words is what Buck needs. It’s soft, tender, and the one that seems to be just for Buck. “I love you. I’ll call as soon as I land.”

Nodding, Buck steps back before he can again reach for Eddie. “Don’t forget Christopher’s pineapple.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie picks up the gift box of pineapples. “Never. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” Buck repeats, even though they don’t know how long it’ll be until they are together again. “Have a good flight.”

Nodding, Eddie leans forward to steal another quick kiss. “Aloha?” he asks, one eyebrow quirking up in question. “Seems appropriate?”

“Aloha,” Buck says. 

With visible reluctance, Eddie turns and heads for the security checkpoint. He will have just enough time to get through to board his plane before the cabin door closes. Eddie sneaks looks back over his shoulder toward where Buck stands, feet rooted to the pavement, until he’s out of sight.

Sighing, Buck turns to return to the truck, only to run into Steve. 

“Hey, kid,” Steve says, pulling him into a hug. 

“Steve.”

“I’ve got your back until you’re back with your ipo.”

“Thanks,” Buck manages, feeling like his heart is missing, having left with Eddie.

 

We built our getaway up in a tree we found

We felt so far away but we were still in town

Now I remember watching that old tree burn down

I took a picture that I don’t like to look at

 

Well all those times they come and go

And alone doesn’t seem so long

Over ten years have gone by

We can’t rewind, we’re locked in time

But you’re still mine

Do you remember?

Do you remember, lyrics by Jack Johnson

Notes:

Please excuse any inaccuracies/deviations from real world events. The Eddie is a real big wave surf competition and certain facts/processes were changed for plot purposes.

Chapter 15: Home/Epilogue

Notes:

Sex scenes are demarcated by ⚓️ and 🌊 respectively if you choose to skip them.

I gotta get home, there’s a garden to tend

There’s fruit on the ground and the birds have all moved back

Into my attic, whistling static

When the young learn to fly I will patch up the holes up once again

 

Danny

The news that a cargo plane has gone down between Honolulu and the Mainland doesn’t surprise Danny. Neither does the report from the Navy that they retrieved only two survivors from a floating life raft two days later—a pilot who’s retired from the Navy and, of course, Joe White. 

Somewhere in the paperwork mill and red tape, the name of the prisoner they were escorting to Colorado is lost and buried, never to see the light of day ever again. 

Good riddance to bad rubbish is Danny’s first thought as soon as he sees the preliminary report land in his inbox. 

Wo Fat’s name should be lost and buried, and Danny has zero regrets about the asshole’s body likely being shark food. He doesn’t need to see a body to trust that Joe took care of things as he promised. 

Danny worries that Steve might need to see it to believe, though. 

Chin has also seen the report and shares it with Buck, their heads snapping up like a pair of naughty children with their hands caught in the cookie jar of counterintelligence, and spy reports that Chin Ho shouldn’t have access to but does when Danny walks past the computer table.

“Danny?” Buck asks, seeing Danny headed toward Steve’s closed office door, getting up like he’s ready to come with him. 

“It’s fine,” Danny assures them with a hand wave and slips into Steve’s office without knocking, slipping the lock closed after him. He’s sure Chin has his ideas about Joe’s actions, and he’ll share them with Buck so Danny won’t have to. Buck’s a bright kid—and knows when to keep his mouth shut. 

Steve only has his desk lamp on, the blinds are closed, and he’s not glaring at his computer screen, but his face is set in an expression that Danny has lovingly labeled aneurysm face number five, which has Danny wincing. 

Number five is the rare one Steve puts on when he’s trying not to show how shattered inside he is by whatever horrific thing they’ve encountered. It’s a good fake-out if you don’t know Steve’s tender inner self like Danny does. 

Danny takes a deep breath to fortify himself. He’ll glue Steve back together again if needed. “Babe?”

“It’s over,” Steve breathes, then buries his face in his hands, shoulders suspiciously rigid and hunched. He doesn’t resist when Danny turns the chair crowds into Steve’s space but instead latches onto Danny and pulls him in to straddle Steve, who hides his face into Danny’s shirt. 

Danny ignores the dampness and his bad knee, protesting the angle at which it’s bent, and hugs Steve close to his chest. “I got you, Babe,” he repeats, crooning the same words repeatedly as he cards his fingers through Steve’s hair. “It’s over. He’s never going to darken our door again.”

Steve’s voice is scratchy, eyes injected from crying when he pulls back to regard Danny with a wet face. “I’m glad. Does that make me a terrible person? He’s dead, Danny.”

“It does not make you a terrible person,” Danny firmly states, carding his hand through Steve’s close-shorn hair. “He’s tormented you and our family for years. Wo Fat murdered anyone who got in his way. The world will be better off without him.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am. I would have offered to do it if Joe hadn’t beat me to it.”

The words sit heavy between them, but Danny means it. The damage Wo Fat has done over the years is terrible, and Doris McGarrett’s efforts to subvert justice are more than just horrific to Danny. How could she have done what she did when it kept hurting Steve? Her lack of maternal regard for Steve is unfathomable for Danny when Steve is so easy to love.

Steve chews on Danny’s words, not allowing any space between their bodies. “You would have.”

It’s a statement, not a question. Danny’s not offended. 

“I would have.”

“For me?” Steve asks, holding still like Danny is a bomb about to go off. 

“In a heartbeat. You’re my partner, Babe. I will always have your back and protect you. You’re mine.”

“Yours?”

“You heard me, Babe.”

Steve slumps into Danny as his grip tightens to pull Danny’s face down to meet his. Danny goes willingly, melting into the kiss. The banked fire in his gut is easily stoked and becomes wildfire, spreading down his limbs through his veins as Steve’s tongue invades Danny’s mouth like a conquering force; Danny’s knees go weak and wobble threateningly before Steve picks him up and deposits Danny on the desk spreading his knees wide to make room to invade Danny’s space thoroughly. 

They’re two heartbeats away from tearing off their clothes and having sex on Steve’s desk when there’s a distinct knock on the door. 

Breaking the kiss, Steve presses their foreheads together, reluctant to let Danny go even though they’re at work. His pupils are dilated, his throat dry, but he doesn’t move from between Danny’s legs, fingers digging into Danny’s thighs. “What is it?”

Buck’s voice is muffled from the other side of the door. “The governor’s on the phone—line two. Wants to talk to you.”

Steve swallows, his throat bobbing and making Danny want to bite Steve’s Adam's apple. “I’ll be right there.”

“Babe…” Danny calls, sliding his hand up Steve’s neck to stroke his thumb across the pulse point. 

“We’ve got stuff to do,” Steve admits reluctantly. 

“Later?” 

“Yeah.” Steve purposefully reaches down and gives Danny’s cock a slow, teasing squeeze through his chinos. “Later,” he promises, voice thick and sending shivers down Danny’s body before kissing him again softly. 

“Babe,” Danny weakly protests, not wanting Steve to leave him despite knowing they’ve got work to do. 

Steve sighs and straightens, fingers reluctantly giving up their hold on Danny. “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Danny agrees, tongue thick in his mouth with the lingering taste of Steve.

Danny doesn’t bother to leave as Steve takes the governor’s call, not going out of his way to distract Steve. When Steve hangs up, he’s reassembled his super seal mask and is professional. 

“We’ve got a lead on dismantling the rest of Wo Fat’s business empire.”

Sighing, Danny's finger combs his hair back into place to reset himself back to work mode. “Sounds like we’ve got work to do.”

Steve nods, stealing another kiss before tugging Danny off his desk. “Let’s go chat with Chin and Buck. We’re going to need to divide and conquer.”

***

Focusing on the work of tracking down a few more players in Wo Fat’s schemes takes up the rest of the day. Steve and Buck are laser-focused and don’t hesitate to engage in a bit of tête-à-tête with some gunfire in the afternoon, leaving Danny’s heart tripping in his chest when Buck goes over a second-floor balcony chasing their quarry. 

“Buck, don’t do that,” Danny wheezes as Buck slaps a pair of cuffs on a swearing man half his size who is still trying to run. 

“Don’t do what, Danno?” Buck blinks those baby blues of his innocently from below, and suddenly, Danny feels like he knows why Buck’s captain is scared to let Buck wreak havoc on the citizens of LA. It’s possible that hanging around Steve is making Buck’s tendency to look before he leaps worse by association or mere proximity. 

“Oh my god,” Danno swears under his breath as he goes to take the stairs like a normal human being. 

Buck has the guy pinned to the wall and behaving himself in the minute it takes for Danny to rejoin them. “—and behave. We don’t say or use those words around Detective Williams.”

Danny lifts his eyes to heaven and says a brief prayer to St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes. “I’m an adult, Buckley. Did you Mirandize him?”

“Nope, figured I’d let you do that. Kevin here is going to be nice and listen to you.”

Sighing, Danny reads the low-level thug his rights. Surprisingly, the man listens to the ‘anything you say may be used against you’ and keeps his mouth shut. 

Steve merely cocks one eyebrow at Danny when Buck shoves their detainee into the back of the waiting police van. Duke is openly chuckling at the small band 5-0, which has rounded up. 

“What?” Danny asks Steve.

“Nothing,” Steve says blandly, mouth quirking up at the edges. 

“I don’t want to hear one word,” Danny emphasizes, shaking his finger at Steve.

“I didn’t say anything,” Steve playfully rebuts, eyes laughing. 

The new urge to kiss Steve to shut him up is not professional, and Danny won’t be doing it—at least not at work, where there are witnesses and impressionable minds like the criminals in the van watching them. 

“You were going to say it,” Danny gripes, not giving up his kvetching. 

“Fine. Book ‘em, Danno.”

“Goddamnit,” Danny curses Steve and maybe stomps his feet a little bit as he makes his way toward the Camaro, ignoring Steve’s bark of laughter and the chitters from the peanut gallery of HPD officers that have shown up to assist in mopping up.

It would probably be better for everyone’s sake if Danny or Chin does the paperwork. Steve tends to leave off important details, and then Leilani calls Danny to fix them anyway. 

Later, when he’s dozing against Steve’s shoulder, Danny realizes that he’d been holding his breath, waiting to see if anything would change after Wo Fat’s death. He’ll discover that the basics of what 5-0 is haven’t changed fundamentally, and he’ll breathe a sigh of relief. 

For now, he’s got a pair of super seals to wrangle and he’s too busy to reflect on what has and hasn’t changed. Everything will work itself out, and Danny’s content to let that happen when it does. He’s got Steve and his kids, and that’s all Danny needs.

Well, almost. He’d take lower crime rates on Oahu… and Doris McGarrett never darkening Steve’s doorstep ever again. 

***

Well I can’t believe that my lime tree is dead

I thought it was sleeping, I guess it got fed up

With not being fed, and I would be too

I keep food in my belly and hope that my time isn’t soon

 

And so I try to understand what I can’t hold in my hand

And wherever we are, home is there too

 

Steve

The knowledge—the knowing—that Wo Fat is dead sits as an uneasy mantle on Steve’s shoulders. He knows he’s worrying Danny, his lover, who is sticking closer than usual. There’s an odd space where Steve’s usual wariness sits, gone and leaving an empty void in its place. 

He feels relieved and, weirdly, like he’s grieving. The dichotomy leaves him feeling adrift in a way he hasn’t felt since the first moments after he’d had it confirmed that John McGarrett was dead of a single gunshot delivered at close range. 

Steve supposes he should truly consider himself an orphan again. He has no desire ever to see his mother again. Unfortunately, it’s likely only a matter of time before she darkens his door again. He’ll have to make it clear to her that he doesn’t consider her family and that she can leave and never return. 

He’s not looking forward to that conversation nor the one he needs to have with Mary to explain his reasoning, which will have to be done in person given the sensitive nature of WoFat’s death, which is best not left to a written message or a phone call.

Danny makes it clear that he’s staying with Steve for the night, and Buck attempts to make noises about maybe crashing on Chin’s couch or with Kono, to which Steve puts a firm stop. Steve wants Buck under his roof for as long as he can. He knows that Buck will eventually wander back to LA now that Eddie has gone home—it’s just a matter of time before Buck convinces himself he needs to get closure on that part of his life or try again as a firefighter. 

Buck was never meant for law enforcement. Steve knows this, even if he’d selfishly keep Buck forever if he could. Buck was born to be a firefighter, save lives, and be Eddie Diaz’s partner. Seeing them together and how they fit into each other soothes the part of Steve that worries about Buck being taken care of. He can hand off that job to Eddie and trust that he’ll take good care of Buck now that they’ve figured out the hard things. 

They grill dinner out on the lanai and then take up residence in the Adirondack chairs to watch the sunset with drinks in hand. 

Well, Danny and Steve are watching the sunset. Buck’s glued to his phone and texting Eddie since it is Christoper’s bedtime. 

“You should FaceTime them,” Danny says with amusement when Steve’s said Buck’s name three times, trying to get Buck’s opinion on work assignments for the morning. 

“What?”

“You should FaceTime them. Let them see the sunset as a bedtime story,” Danny says, an amused curl to his mouth that Steve wants to kiss. 

“That’s a good idea,” Buck says, moving closer to the waterline as he waits for Eddie to answer, leaving Steve and Danny to enjoy the sunset in peace. 

“He’s going to go home sooner rather than later,” Danny says quietly, voicing the same observation Steve’s already made. 

“Yeah.”

“You think he knows it yet?”

“I do,” Steve says after a moment of reflection. “Buck’s just working up the nerve to do it. Won’t be long.”

“Nope,” Danny agrees. “He misses Eddie like a lost limb.”

Danny isn’t wrong. Steve’s noticed Buck turning to look for Eddie several times today. The disappointment on Buck’s face every time he remembers that Eddie is in LA and he’s here in Hawai’i is amusing, if not endearing. “You think I should say something?”

Danny takes a pull off his longboard. “To Buck?”

“No, to Buck’s Captain—Nash,” Steve clarifies. He’s not 100% happy with the idea of Buck going back to the 118, but Steve knows that Buck has a better handle on things, and it’ll either work out or it won’t without Steve meddling… but he still wants to set Buck up for success and the old urge to come down like a pile of bricks on Nash itches at the back of Steve’s hindbrain. 

Danny is silent, thinking, so Steve waits and listens to the snatches of a bedtime story he can hear Buck relaying to his Diaz boys, which is a heavily sanitized version of their raid on the stolen goods warehouse they’d performed today. 

“What would you say to him—if you called?”

Steve weighs the question as he takes a pull off his beer. The glass is smooth in his hands as his nails pick at the label. “I would tell him that trusting the men I called my team was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It still is.”

Danny is watching him closely, eyes almost gray from the sunset. “Trust?”

Steve leans forward, knocking his knee into Danny’s and hooking his ankle around Danny’s to hold it close. “I trust you to care for yourself and me, Kono, Chim, and Buck. I trust you to do the right thing at the right time, to use your skills, and to match me move for move. There’s no other partner I want more than you at my back. That’s how Buck feels about Eddie.”

“Does he?” Danny knows that Steve isn’t just talking about Buck and Eddie. 

“He does.” Steve takes another drink and swallows it before continuing. “Trusting my team is essential to doing what we do. It’s essential to doing the work of a firefighter, too. It’s the nature of the work when you willingly go into danger to help people.”

“Or bust criminal enterprises,” Danny mutters, not disagreeing. 

“Or that,” Steve agrees. “Here’s where Nash needs to understand. Even though I love Buck like he’s my flesh and blood, I still trust him to do what he needs to accomplish our mission. I would be devastated to hear he was hurt or worse.”

“Babe—“

“But I still trust him to do his job.”

“You don’t think Nash trusts Buck?”

“Worse. I think he doesn’t trust himself.”

“How so?”

“Buck said Nash lost his family to a fire. That he blames himself; that was why he wasn’t the acting captain when Buck was hurt—he was under investigation about his past in Minnesota.” Steve had thought—at the time—that fate had been very cruel to Buck and Bobby Nash that night. 

“And Nash sees Buck like a son,” Danny surmises. 

“Yeah. Buck’s got a habit of attaching himself to people he serves with and making them family.”

“He’s not the only one,” Danny observes drily. 

“No, he’s not. Which is why I think Nash doesn’t trust himself. He almost lost Buck.Buck says that the weirdness didn’t start until after he had the clot.”

Danny makes a noise of disagreement in his throat. “It could have been before—Buck said he wasn’t back to work either way. Nash could have put the brake on right after that party.”

“True,” Steve allows. “However, I think the second scare is what did it.”

“That wasn’t under Buck’s control at all,” Danny argues. 

“No, it wasn’t. As Buck's captain, it’s unfair of Nash to keep him from work. Eddie told me that blood thinners shouldn’t have been a reason to keep Buck off the job. He said he asked around, and a few older firefighters are on blood thinners for other reasons, and they still work in the field.”

“Which means that everything comes back to Nash.”

Steve nods. “He’s going to make or break Buck and Eddie staying in LA.”

Danny says nothing, but his hand wraps around Steve’s wrist in a supportive squeeze. 

“I don’t know what to say to Nash,” Steve admits.

Danny frowns, gaze briefly sliding to where Buck has disappeared down to the shoreline before returning to Steve. “You’ll find them.”

“So you think I should talk to Nash?”

Danny shrugs, his fingers snagging Steve’s beer, and finishes it in one swallow before taking Steve’s hand to tug at it as he stands. “How about you sleep on it?”

“Sleep on it?” Steve’s eyebrows climb. 

“Well, I suppose it depends on the definition we’re working with.”

“Definition?” Steve follows Danny’s lead, picking up the pace as they return to the house. 

“Of sleeping. Are we going with the one that leads to being fully rested, or….”

“Or?” Steve catches up to Danny at the bottom of the stairs, his hands reaching for and catching Danny around the trim waist. With Danny on the second step, their noses are level, and Danny reels him in, hands stroking Steve’s shoulders and causing a shiver down Steve’s spine. 

“Or maybe you should sleep with me.”

“Sleep with you?” Steve teases, smiling as he leans closer to share breath with Danny, tilting his head at just the right angle to let their lips brush against one another as he speaks.“So we can wake up fully rested?”

“The other one, babe,” Danny growls and nips at Steve’s lower lip, and Steve chases and catches his lover in one fell swoop, lifting Danny up and marching up the stairs, blood afire. 

⚓️ 

Danny doesn’t miss a beat, tongue stealing the breath from Steve’s lungs as he wraps his legs around Steve’s waist, hands twisted in Steve’s shirt. They crash into the bed in a flurry of wandering limbs as they tear at each other’s clothes, breaking only to yank Steve’s shirt over his head while Danny loses more than a button or two to Steve’s impatient fingers. 

As more skin is revealed, Steve is again stunned by the thought that Danny is his. Danny is beautiful with his hair disheveled, miles of skin on display with a tantalizing tan line low on the hips that had been hard fought over (Danny’s penchant to keep himself covered at all times with either clothing or sunscreen has gradually given ground to Steve over the years). Underneath everything, Danny is muscular and hairy, different from every other lover Steve has taken to bed. 

He won’t mention the shorter bit. Danny’s a bit touchy about his height. 

“Where’d you go, babe?” Danny calls, knocking Steve out of his wandering thoughts, one leg sinfully wrapping itself around Steve as Danny nips at his lower lip. 

Growling, Steve rolls them so that Danny is straddling him, and he can get his hands on that delectable ass that fills each palm and squeezes.

Danny groans as he curls down to kiss Steve again, teeth and tongues dueling as he hovers above Steve like a work of art, body arching down to grind their groins together in a wicked rhythm. 

If he had wings, Steve would think Danny is a fallen angel. 

A beautiful, taunting, sexy angel. 

“I’m no angel, Babe,” Danny mutters between kisses, and Steve hadn’t realized he’d said anything, but his brain is too busy, stuck on thoughts of Danny, more and yeah, right there as Danny bites down on his jaw, making Steve shudder. 

Somehow, he finds the lube and coats two fingers. 

Danny moans when he strokes the first finger across his entrance, giving Steve room to work as he sneaks one in and aims right for his prostate with all the focus of a tactical strike. 

“Fuck, Babe.”

“That’s the idea,” Steve says as Danny’s fingers wrap around him and stroke in a counterpoint to the assault Steve is committing on Danny’s g-spot. 

“Give me another,” Danny insists, reclaiming Steve’s mouth. 

Steve complies, adding a second finger to the first, scissoring and thrusting into the tight channel. 

Danny’s hips tilt and rock, seeking back into each thrust, his back arching as he gasps for air, hair tumbling over his forehead as he shakes in pleasure with each stroke of Steve’s fingers. “More, babe! Give me another. I’m ready for it.”

It’s fast, but Steve gives Danny what he’s asking for and slips a third and quickly a fourth in when Danny snarls and impatiently rides Steve’s fingers. When he’s satisfied that Danny’s prepped enough, he adds lube to Danny’s hand and fucks into the slippery fingers as their tongues mate. 

The impatient squeeze of thumb and forefinger at the base of his cock tells him Danny is seconds from cuffing Steve to the bed, so he lifts Danny off him and repositions them so that Danny’s hole is perched right atop Steve’s cock. 

Watching with hooded eyes, Danny makes sure he has Steve’s attention as he relaxes and lets his thighs slide outward, descending in one smooth motion to take Steve’s cock to the root with his mouth open in a moan as he’s filled. Steve can’t look away, his hands clutching at Danny’s hips and fingers digging into the muscular ass that contracts as he adjusts, both of them breathing hard as if they’ve just run a marathon. 

Danny clenches around him, and Steve almost seizes at the intense wet heat that grips him. The urge to thrust, to throw Danny onto his back and pound, slams through him, but he holds on, knowing that this way will be better.

Steve likes watching Danny. He’s been watching Danny since the day they met, and Danny landed that punch, getting his attention like nobody else ever has. 

Danny shudders as he adjusts, his muscles quivering. The spaces between each rib retract as he takes deep sucking breaths that gradually gentle as the shudders subside except for the faint tremor that Steve can feel at each point of connection. The experimental contraction of ass muscles is the only warning Steve gets before the powerful thighs lift up an inch before slamming back down with rocking force, resheathing Steve’s cock in that tight wet heat. 

When Danny does it again, Steve’s hips are snapping upward as Danny rockets down, fingers leaving bruises on the thick muscle of Danny’s ass. Their joining is almost violent, but the words dripping from Steve’s mouth are anything but. 

“Love you, Danny. So beautiful,” Steve manages as he hangs on to Danny, watching as Danny takes his pleasure from Steve’s body. 

Up and Down. 

In and out. 

Their bodies piston together and then lever apart, Steve’s toes curling as he thrusts home into Danny, burying himself to the root while aiming for the spot that makes Danny snarl in pleasure. 

It doesn’t—can’t—last, and Steve’s peak hits him with the force of a runaway train, giving two strokes to Danny’s cock, causing him to spurt over his lower abdomen as he grinds down on Steve’s cock buried to the root in a tight, spamming channel, 

Steve follows seconds later, rocking his pelvis as he comes in Danny’s tight ass before Danny collapses atop him, sloppily kissing open-mouthed. 

⚓️ 

“Love you, Babe,” Danny says, but Steve can’t contain the sob that escapes. Danny doesn’t hesitate, rolling them and ignoring the growing mess of lube and come between them as Steve burrows into his smaller frame. “I’ve got you, Babe.”

“Danny,” Steve manages, clinging to his lover. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you, Babe.” 

Danny’s arms and legs are wrapped around him, protecting and sheltering him as the last few weeks finally hit Steve. The breakdown earlier had momentarily stemmed the tide, but now the tsunami is wiping away his defenses. 

Grief battles with anger, loss, and tussles for dominance over the profound love Steve has for his ‘ohana, and through it all, Danny provides a safe harbor, crooning Steve’s name and promising Steve that he has his back. That he’s Steve’s. 

So much has happened since he went to LA. 

Gradually, the shakes calm, and the ringing in his ears quiets. Steve becomes aware of the slow, firm strokes of Danny’s hand down the line of his spine from nape to tailbone. 

Danny notices Steve is no longer falling to pieces. “You back with me, Babe?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, right into the skin under his mouth. His face is tucked into Danny’s neck like he can hide from the world. 

“I was thinking, maybe after Charlie and Grace get home, we’d look into merging households.”

Inside, Steve perks up, moving to see Danny’s face. “Like, what? Move in together?”

“For starters.” 

“Starters?” Steve probes, sitting up. 

A fond smile is aimed at Steve. “We’re not getting any younger, Babe.”

“I need you to say it,” Steve insists. “What do you mean, Danny?”

Danny sighs. “You’re going to make me say it?”

“I need to hear it. What do you want, Danny?”

The smile widens. “I want you. You and me, for the rest of our lives, Babe.”

“Marriage?”

Danny shrugs. “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. I wouldn’t mind putting a ring on you, Babe.”

“Danny,” Steve says, which comes out as a half-whine. “Please.”

“Marry me, Steve?”

“Yes.”

Danny’s smile is brilliant, and Steve has to kiss him, surging forward to claim that teasing wonderful mouth. Danny meets him halfway like he always does. The kiss is spine-melting hot, yet tender, and Danny yields to Steve’s tongue, open and accepting as he claims his territory. They break only for air when necessary before reconnecting like two magnets, hands busy roving each other’s skin. 

When Steve buries his cock deep in Danny’s ass for a second time that night, it’s not about getting off. It’s about merging their bodies, trying to climb into each other in an act of lovemaking. He never wants to be parted from Danny. He wants to make a vow in front of their ‘ohana and everyone else that Steve is for Danny and Danny is for Steve.

Promises are whispered into each other’s skin and mouth. Declarations of love and devotion as they meld together into one creature, the prior frantic urgency nowhere to be found. Steve inspects and memorizes each inch of Danny’s body, stroking, licking, kissing, and caressing to learn all the reactions and noises Danny makes and allows Danny to do the same with him. 

The second time is the first time Steve has ever made love with someone, and he devotes himself to Danny to learn all his quirks and desires. Eventually, they curl around each other and sleep, dreams soft and gentle, filled with love. 

Steve is safe and secure in his Danny’s arms. 

There’s nowhere he’d rather be. 

***

Morning draws Steve from his sleep earlier than Danny likes. He grumbles and goes back to sleep after demanding a kiss from his ‘ridiculous seal’ and shoves Steve toward the door, instructing him to go ‘swim with the fishes or make like a dolphin or whatever.’

Steve shouldn’t find his fiancé so adorable, but he does. 

Buck answers his knock, already dressed for their swim. They are silent as they make their way to the water. 

“The usual route?” Buck asks, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. Unless you want to go all the way out to the sandbar?” Going all the way to the sandbar will add about two and a half miles onto their swim. It’s the route Steve takes when he needs a slow, long workout to calm his thoughts. 

Buck shrugs, interrupting his stretches. “I could go for that.”

Steve nods and then dives into the waves, Buck on his heels. Each stroke's meditative, repetitive motions soothe the last of Steve’s frayed nerves. 

When they return to shore, Danny greets him with a kiss and towels for both of them. 

Breakfast is ready. 

Steve could see Danny greeting him at the waterline every morning for the rest of his life, and he is content. This is what he wants and all he needs. 

***

They go to work after breakfast, and the mountain of paperwork related to Wo Fat’s capture and the bust yesterday will not do itself. Danny grumbles and then shuts himself up in his office, muttering about needing a thesaurus to cover all of Steve’s atrocities—which is typical for the end of a case this big. Buck is put to work by Chin, and Steve retreats to his office, shooting a message off to Hondo and asking for Bobby Nash’s phone number. 

Hondo replies almost instantly with a string of digits with an LA area code and a note that it’s Nash’s day off according to the rotation schedule. 

Steve stares at the phone number for several minutes, composing what he wants to say. It does occur to him that Buck might not appreciate Steve calling his boss. However, this is too important, and Steve needs to do this.

Nash is too important to Buck for Steve not to set him straight. Buck needs more people in his life. 

He gets up and closes his door before dialing.

Nash answers on the third ring, an edge of anxiety to the words that aren’t completely hidden by their formality. “This is Bobby Nash. Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Commander Steve McGarrett. We met about a month ago.”

“You were the man here with Sergeant Harrelson and talked with me after Eddie was taken,” Nash says, voice tight. 

“Correct.” 

“I thought I recognized the number. Has something happened to Buck?”

Steve takes a deep breath and reminds himself that this man is hurting just like Buck was and hasn’t been given much information beyond the basics, most of which was filtered through his wife, Sergeant Grant-Nash. “No. I was calling to answer some questions I thought you might have before Buck returns.”

“Buck is coming home?”

“Eventually,” Steve hedges. He doesn’t have an exact time frame, but Buck probably won’t stay longer than Kono’s requested leave.

The pained huff crackles over the phone. “Okay. Is… I was told Buck was not injured when Eddie was found?”

“No. Buck is uninjured and is currently pretending that the paperwork I assigned him is fascinating, but he’s bored out of his mind.”

“Buck isn’t one for sitting behind a desk,” Nash mutters in agreement. 

“No, he’s not, which is why I’m calling.”

Nash is silent, waiting on Steve. 

“You can’t play those sorts of games with Buck, Captain. He’s not meant for a desk job, and it’s cruel to pretend he’s safe behind one.”

“Sounds like you have him doing that yourself.”

Steve snorts, amused by the acerbic words aimed at him. “The paperwork is just to keep Buck busy and remind him that he doesn’t want to be a police officer long term.”

“He’s a firefighter,” Nash argues. “Buck’s used to being up and moving, a lot of physicality.”

“That’s good of you to acknowledge that,” Steve retorts. “My point stands, Captain.”

“Which is what?”

Steve sighs. “Putting Buck behind a desk won’t keep him safe. Buck is one of the finest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. He puts his whole heart and soul into his work and was meant to save people, which is why I let him find other work. Putting him behind a desk like you did is punishment for someone like him, who did nothing to deserve it. Manage your guilt, Captain. Don’t punish Buck for your failures. You won’t like the results if you do it again.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, just an observation. Buck won’t take you denying him work a second time. He’s got options.”

“Options like working for you?”

“Among others.”

“Eddie said he’d go with Buck.”

“Eddie also has a lot of useful skills,” Steve readily agrees, stirring the bubbling pot that is Nash’s anxieties. 

“You can’t have them,” Nash growls, and Steve wants to burst out laughing at the fierce possessiveness but reigns it in. 

“Then do better. You know how to be their captain, so act like it. Stop putting your worries on them and let them do their jobs.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees. “You’re usually a good captain—Buck wouldn’t have stayed at your station past his probationary period if you weren’t. I’m just calling to remind you that Buck is an adult, and sometimes you have to trust your team and let them do their jobs even when you’re struggling.”

Steve lets his words marinate, waiting for Nash to respond, which takes him a moment. 

“Athena says you’re well known in police circles.”

“And other circles, too,” Steve can’t help but point out. 

Nash huffs. “She said you run an elite task force in Hawai’i and that you were in the navy. Is that where—“

“I’m not going to comment on how I met Buck,” Steve cuts the man off. That’s for Buck to reveal if he wants to. Buck had made the decision years ago to downplay his military past and Steve will stick to his wishes. 

“Okay, fine,” Nash growls. “Buck is important to me. He’s… he’s like…”

“A son?” Steve supplies.

“Yes,” Nash agrees haltingly. “I’ve lost family before, and Buck he…”

“He runs towards danger,” Steve finishes. “Buck’s not reckless, Captain.”

“I know he’s not, but sometimes I wish he’d be more careful.”

Steve gives the man that one. Buck can leap before he looks, but Eddie has greatly tempered the worst of those tendencies, and having someone like Eddie at Buck’s back means they’ll both come home at the end of the day. 

“I trust Buck with my life, Captain. So does Eddie. Maybe you should work on reminding yourself that you trust him.”

“I am working on it,” Nash retorts, sadness coloring his words. “Jesus, you’re an asshole.”

Steve suspects that he’s pushed on a lot of sore spots with this conversation, but he’s satisfied with Nash’s answers—for the most part—and lets the asshole comment go. “I want you to remember that Buck and Eddie have options. If you want them to stay at your station, trust them and let them do their jobs. I’m not saying don’t tell them when they do something stupidly dangerous. I’m saying trust them and then tell them they’re knuckleheads afterward, but let them do their jobs.”

“Fine. Any other words of advice you’re wanting to give me?” Nash adds sarcastically. 

“Those are the highlights,” Steve teases then sobers. “Buck will be coming home to LA, Captain. I would appreciate it if anything happens to him if you would give me a courtesy call. I’m also available to help whenever needed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Was there anything else you needed to tell me about?”

“Nope. I just wanted to touch base and set expectations. I’d also like to suggest maybe talking to a therapist.”

“Me or Buck?”

“I’m just talking about you now. Buck’s got things covered.”

“Jesus. I’m already talking to someone.”

“Great. I just wanted to suggest it if you weren’t. My partner frequently suggests it.”

“Your partner?”

Steve supposes Nash doesn’t want to listen to him wax eloquently about his Danny, so he moves to end the call. “Yes. Can I ask that you please save my number?”

“I’ve got it. You’re going under Commander Asshole.”

“You sure you’re not related to Buck?” Steve teases. 

“Anything else? We done?” Nash demands, ignoring the jibe. 

“Nope.”

“Well, have a nice day!” Nash snaps and then hangs up on Steve. It’s the most polite telling-off Steve’s had in ages. Buck wasn’t kidding about that Midwest-nice thing. 

Danny picks that moment to enter his office and rolls his eyes at Steve’s cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “What did you do, Babe?”

“Nothing.”

“Babe...”

***

In the back of our house there’s a trail that won’t end

We were walking so far that it grew back in

There’s no trail at all, only grass growing tall

Get out my machete and battle with time once again

But I’m ‘bout to lose ‘cause I’ll be damned if time doesn’t win

 

Eddie

Deacon is the one waiting outside the arrivals gate at LAX, shades on in the early morning light, dressed for work, and handing Eddie a fresh cup of coffee as he holds the door open. Eddie had a lot of people he could have called to pick him up, but it’d been easiest to ask Deacon, and the other man had simply replied with, ‘What time?’

Throwing his things in the back of the SWAT-branded SUV that Deacon is driving, parked blissfully in the fire lane and ignoring the glare from airport security, it’s the fastest Eddie has ever gotten out of the tangle that is LAX, which is a notorious snarl of traffic and people. 

“How was your flight?” Deacon asks as they pull away from the curb. 

“Fine. How’s Christopher?”

“He barely slept,” Deacon admits with a grin. “He’s excited to have you home.”

“You think it was wrong to have him go to school?” Eddie asks, still torn over the decision. He really wants a hug from his kid. 

“Nah. It’s a half day today, and the class was going to the science museum for a field trip that he’d looked forward to for weeks,” Deacon reminds him. “I told him he needs to scope out the place for the next time he goes there with you and Buck.”

“That’s a good strategy,” Eddie admits, knowing Buck had been interested in the new Mars Rover exhibit that Karen had been involved in planning the JPL portion and had mentioned on one of the bedtime calls a while back. 

“Yeah. Christopher might have picked up a few habits from the junior officers on my team. They were discussing tactical plans a few days ago, and Christopher loved their map. Christopher said that Buck uses the same planning methods every time they go to the zoo to ensure they don’t miss any feeding times or educational talks.”

“Buck does that—it’s like strategizing war games for the LA County Zoo. Amazingly, I never figured out he had more of a military background in retrospect.”

Deacon shrugs. “He didn’t say, and you didn’t ask.”

“Ha ha,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Don’t ask, don’t tell?”

“I mean, you were serving during the end of that policy,” Deacon points out. 

Eddie sighs. “I kinda forgot all about it, to be honest. It wasn’t something I put a lot of thought into because I was married.”

“You’re forgiven.” Deacon is well aware of how Eddie views promises like marriage vows. The man has ideas about the seriousness of keeping said promises, which are very similar to Eddie’s. 

Eddie’s curious what Buck’s ideas are about marriage vows. They’ve started that conversation, but they only just officially got together, so asking Buck to marry him after only dating for a few weeks is probably rushing things. 

Probably. 

That doesn’t mean Eddie can’t start thinking of how he will ask Buck and do it properly this time without anyone’s parents breathing down his neck. 

Eddie wants to woo Buck. To wine and dine him. To go dancing with him like Eddie used to in high school—salsa dancing. He bets Buck has two left feet, but Eddie can teach him. 

He might have spent most of his flight thinking of first official LA dates he can take Buck on. 

(The hot air balloon ride idea is really too much—even with Eddie remembering Buck telling him how disappointed he was when he had to cancel plans to take Abby on one as a date when Eddie had hardly known Buck. They’ve both been involved in rescues for those gone wrong, and Eddie can see him and Buck scaring anyone up there with them with their tales of ballooning gone wrong.)

Deacon drops him off at home, handing Eddie a set of keys to his truck that is missing the elephant key chain that Buck bought him on their first trip to the zoo after the tsunami. “We had your doors re-keyed, and I had the mechanics in the motor pool fix up your truck,” Deacon explains. 

“What are these other keys?” Eddie asks, pointing to the five other keys on the ring and the fob that looks exactly like the one he used to have for Buck’s building. 

“Your Abuela’s house, Buck’s loft, work, your house, and Buck asked that we give you a copy for his jeep. He said you could take over checking to make sure it starts once a week.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, staring at the keys and trying not to blush about how domestic it is. Shannon had used to do that for him when he was deployed. “Who’s watering Buck’s plants?”

“You are,” Deacon says with a laugh. “I have been doing it, but they’re starting to look a little sad.”

“You’re probably under or overwatering them—can’t have Buck coming home to dead plants.”

Deacon sobers. “You think he’s coming back to LA?”

Eddie sighs, leaning against the car door. “Yeah. He and I both know we need to figure out if staying here is an option. I’m the vanguard.”

The silver-haired man slowly nods in understanding. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s an option.”

Eddie snorts. “Why? You talk to Bobby?”

“He, your captain, didn’t take your unscheduled vacation that well. It scared him.”

Frowning, another thought occurs to Eddie. “Am I going to have issues going back to work?”

“No. You’ve got your therapy appointment scheduled for this afternoon. Assuming Frank clears you for work, you’re on schedule for tomorrow. Hondo made sure it wasn’t an issue with the higher-ups.”

“Tell Hondo I said thanks,” Eddie mutters, knowing he still has to get Bobby’s approval. 

“Hey,” Deacon calls his name, knocking Eddie out of his thoughts. “It will be okay. I think your captain will surprise you.”

“Why? Because he treats me differently than Buck?”

“No. It’s because he’s had it made clear to him that if you’re cleared physically and by Frank, there are no more hoops to jump through. If there are any more concerns about favoritism or treating someone coming off an injury unequally, the brass will step in. Don’t be shocked if you get a request to do a check-in from headquarters. They’re serious about this, and there have been conversations about revising the sign-off process to ensure this sort of thing can’t happen again.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie admits. 

“You’re worried—and I get that—but I think it’s going to be okay, Eddie,” Deacon assures him. 

“I hear you. I just need to be back at work to believe it.”

“Fair. Do you need anything else?”

“Nah. I just want to shower and sleep in my own bed for a bit before letting Frank seethe thoughts rattling around in my head.”

“Okay. Call if you need anything,” Deacon stresses. 

“I will,” Eddie promises as he climbs out of the car, grabbing his bags. “Later.”

“Later. Stay out of trouble!”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Deacon and waves the man off. Entering his house, Eddie is struck by how everything is almost exactly as he left it. He does a quick walk-through and notices that someone—probably Carla—has restocked the fridge and cleaned out anything that would have expired since Eddie did it last garbage pickup day. There’s a load of clean clothes in the dryer, mostly Christopher’s. 

Noting that everything seems to be in its place, Eddie throws all the dirty clothes he’d accumulated from Hawaii in the washer, walks naked through the house, and goes straight into the shower to wash the flight off him. He hates how he feels after being stuck in an airplane, and his home shower’s water pressure is terrific, and he finally smells like himself instead of borrowed soap. 

There’s also more than a bit of sand still stuck in places he has to scrub it out of 

Eddie holds off shaving in favor of face-planting on his bed, out like a light as soon as he sets his alarm to wake him an hour before his appointment with Frank. 

***

Waking groggily at noon, Eddie rubs his face and throws on the first clean clothes that come to hand—one of Buck’s LAFD hoodies and a pair of athletic shorts. Grabbing his new set of keys, a coffee that Hildy prepares on voice cue, and his running shoes, Eddie is ten minutes early for his appointment with Frank. 

Frank’s receptionist comments upon seeing him. “Mr. Diaz, did you just go on vacation?”

Eddie snorts, trying not to laugh. “Uh, no.”

“Oh,” the receptionist stares at him for a heartbeat too long. “You’re tanner than usual and didn’t gel your hair. I just assumed.”

Eddie shouldn’t be so amused by the assumption, but he is. “It was more of a kidnapping at gunpoint, but I did get to see parts of Hawaii, so…”

“Kidnapping?” Isaac, the receptionist, pales.

“Yeah. It’s why I’m here.”

“Ah… I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

Eddie bites his tongue so as not to laugh at how flustered he’s made Isaac. He sits across the small waiting room and settles in for a quick nap. 

“Eddie?” Frank calls, and Eddie snaps awake ten minutes later. 

“Yeah?”

The therapist’s mouth quirks slightly in a smile he can’t entirely hide, suggesting he’s amused by Eddie or just glad to see him alive. “I’m ready for you.”

“Coming,” Eddie agrees and follows Frank into his office while Isaac is busy making a follow-up appointment with Frank’s last patient. 

Once ensconced on Frank’s couch, Eddie waits for Frank to start the grilling. Instead, his question settles something deep inside Eddie. “How are you?”

It’s a simple question you might ask a friend returning from a vacation or that you encounter in the grocery store after having not seen them for a while. It’s normal, and Eddie, to his surprise, realizes he has an answer that is both truthful and reassuring. 

“I’m good. You know, for getting a free surprise visit to Hawai’i via Air Kidnapper, I’m good.”

“How so?”

Eddie ducks his head, looking at his hands. “After all the unpleasantness, Buck and I talked. Really talked.”

“And?”

“We’re… good. He knows I have his back, and he has mine… and we’ve reached an understanding.”

“An understanding?” Frank’s left eyebrow arches, but his eyes are smiling at the coy, roundabout way Eddie is talking, and Eddie relaxes even further, knowing that this therapy room is a safe space for him to share. 

“We’re together. He’s it for me, and I’m it for him,” Eddie explains, the simple yet complex meaning behind the words rich with everything that Buck is to him and he is to Buck.

“It being?” Frank prods, wanting Eddie to state explicitly what he means; no more beating around the bush.

“Partners—in everything. Work and life partners.”

“Marriage?” The question is direct, but Eddie doesn’t flinch from it whereas he might have only a month or two ago.

“We’ve started discussing it—no plans yet, but we’re headed there.”

“Congratulations.” 

“Thanks. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“I’m honored,” Frank says, sobering. “What are you planning on telling others? Your family? Coworkers?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk with you about,” Eddie agrees, knowing he needs strategies for how to start telling everyone else about him and Buck. 

“Well, let's start with the people here in LA,” Frank says. Eddie and he spends the next twenty minutes discussing how Eddie will deal with telling Pepa, Abuela, his cousins, and his coworkers at the 118 and how to tackle telling his parents what to do if their reactions aren’t what he expects or wants. 

The last ten minutes of the session are spent examining Eddie’s response to being kidnapped and any lingering issues from it. 

“Honestly, I think I’m okay,” Eddie argues. “It’s more that I miss Buck, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.”

“Wasn’t he part of the spiral you were stuck in?” Frank points out. “It’s natural to miss your partner.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I wonder if we’re more co-dependent than we should be,” Eddie admits.

“Co-dependent?”

“Yeah, isn't that the technical term that therapists use?” Eddie says back, his words more lighthearted than not. 

“I would not call you co-dependent,” Frank says, choosing his words carefully. “You said you intend to marry Buck. It is common for life partners to be reactive when separated forcibly.”

“Reactive?” Eddie’s eyebrows climb at the word. That seems like an understatement.

“I did not say it was a positive reaction,” Frank argues. “You have a powerful emotional bond with Buck. You were fighting to keep that bond. It is not surprising that it did not go well by not talking to each other.”

“That’s an understatement,” Eddie agrees. “I think Buck and I are still working on ensuring we communicate… but we’re way better than we were.”

“So, what sort of obstacles do you anticipate going forward?”

That’s the million-dollar question. 

“Bobby.”

“Your captain?”

“Yeah. He has a lot of power over us staying in LA. If he won’t let Buck come back and work with me fully… I think we might be moving to Hawai’i.”

“Are you okay with that possibility?”

Eddie thinks about his answer before talking. “I am. I’d prefer we be able to stay in LA because of my family here, but I wouldn’t be upset if we had to relocate. Buck and Christopher are my priorities. Oahu would be a good option because Buck has family there.”

“Family?”

“Yeah. Steve and Danny are his family.”

“Steve and Danny?”

“Steve McGarrett is Buck’s old seal team commander, and Danny is his partner.”

“Partner like you are Buck’s or?”

“Same as with me and Buck. Steve’s like Buck’s older brother or almost dad. Danny is the cool, fun uncle.”

“Ah. They would support you moving to Hawai’i?”

“They would. I don’t think Buck and I will be short on options, but I’d like to see if staying in LA is an option before we consider moving.”

“Fair. So how do you plan on approaching being back to work?”

“You clearing me to work my shift tomorrow?” Eddie asks with a grin, catching the implication. 

Frank doesn’t roll his eyes, but Eddie can tell he wants to. “Let’s go with that assumption. Now, what do you anticipate as issues going back to work?”

They go over the allotted time game planning how Eddie will deal with questions from his inquisitive coworkers and how to handle Bobby if he decides to try and discipline Eddie for something that was truly out of his control. Finally, the last question Frank poses lingers in Eddie’s mind as he leaves his appointment. 

“How will you deal with Buck coming back to work?”

Eddie would be ecstatic to have Buck back where he belongs, but he also knows that it won’t be as easy as Buck just showing up to work and getting on with it. Frank tells him to think about that question for their next session in two days, handing Eddie the paperwork that clears him to return to work. 

***

An hour later, he’s waiting outside Durand for Christopher. 

Despite his crutches, Christopher bursts out of the doors ahead of most of his classmates. Eddie is there to swoop in and pick his son up when he stumbles. Their eyes meet, and Eddie swings Christopher around in a hug. Christopher clutches him tight, his head buried in Eddie’s shoulder as he cries. 

“I’ve got you, Mijo,” Eddie croons, pressing a kiss to the crown of Christopher’s head. 

“Dad,” Christopher sobs, the emotions of the last two weeks overwhelming his tiny body. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Mijo.”

Christopher pulls back, his face tear-streaked and red but fierce as he cups Eddie’s face in his small hands. “You are never getting kidnapped again.”

“I’ll try not to, Mijo,” Eddie promises. 

“Buck needs to come home. He keeps you out of trouble,” Christopher grumbles before throwing his arms back around Eddie’s neck and squeezing tight. 

“Buck does keep me out of trouble,” Eddie agrees. “He’ll be home soon.”

Christopher’s grumbles are lost in Eddie’s shirt, but he doesn’t object when Eddie picks up his abandoned book bag and makes their way back to the waiting truck. Normally, Christopher would protest that he’s too old to be carried like a little kid, but he clings to Eddie stubbornly until he has to climb into the back seat.

“Can we have ice cream?” 

“Sure, Mijo,” Eddie agrees. 

“The place Buck found?”

“Of course,” Eddie says as he buckles his seatbelt. “Unless you’d like to try shave ice?”

“Shave ice?”

“It’s Hawaiian. Buck told me there’s a place run by a family from Hawai’i over off sunset.”

Christopher’s eyes go huge behind his glasses, and he is restless in his seat as Eddie drives the ten minutes to the small family-run food truck, giving a running commentary of all the things that Eddie has missed while ‘kidnapped in Hawai’i.’ 

Eddie knows that there’s probably a conversation pending with someone either at school or the child therapist in the future about downplaying how serious kidnapping is. Still, for the moment, he’s just glad Christopher is happy. 

They can both have their mental breakdowns later. For now, Eddie’s happy to shove any impeding crisis off by eating flavored shaved ice and turning his tongue the colors of the rainbow. 

Unsurprisingly, Christopher decides he likes shave ice better than ice cream sundaes. Eddie can live with that. 

***

Eddie loses himself in the ruckus of their evening routine. Dinner, cleaning up the kitchen while Christopher gets some screen time, which is abandoned in favor of asking questions about Hawai’i and 5-0 and how Buck is. Eddie keeps up with his son’s chatter, getting alternatively roasted and questioned as Christopher doesn’t bother to hide how much he’d missed Eddie and still misses Buck. 

Eddie wishes Buck had come home with him, but he knows Buck isn’t quite ready. 

He still misses him terribly, as does Christopher—or at least Buck’s cooking. 

Eddie is raising a comedian. 

Luckily, Buck calls at bedtime to say goodnight. 

Eddie misses his partner like a phantom limb and can see the ache in Buck’s eyes as he relates an improbable tale of how 5-0 captured what sounds like an island’s worth of bad guys. 

Christopher quickly runs out of steam, the day's excitement having exhausted him. “Buck?”

“Yeah, Superman?”

“When are you coming home?”

Buck falters on the video call, his eyes darting toward Eddie’s before refocusing on Christopher. “In a few weeks.”

Christopher frowns, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Superman,” Buck admits, expression torn. 

Eddie takes the tablet from Christopher’s fingers. “Mijo, say goodnight to Buck. You can call him tomorrow while I’m at work.”

“Okay, Dad,” Christopher says with a yawn that almost dislocates his jaw it’s so big. “G’night, Buck.”

“Night, Superman. Sweet dreams.”

Setting the tablet aside but not hanging up, Eddie tucks the blankets around Christopher and drops a kiss on his forehead as he removes the glasses and sets them on the nightstand, turning off the light. “Goodnight, Mijo.”

The soft goodnight Christopher mutters is lost mid-sentence as Eddie’s son is out cold. 

Silently laughing, Eddie picks up the tablet to show Buck a completely conked-out Christopher. Holding a finger in front of his mouth in a shushing motion, Eddie carefully backs out of the bedroom and closes the door. 

“He looks exhausted,” Buck observes as Eddie walks to the kitchen, setting the tablet on a stand. He starts putting away the clean dishes that had been left to dry before he’d been kidnapped. 

“He was really excited to see me. Practically danced with excitement from the moment I picked him up at school until you called,” Eddie drily teases. “It’ll be the same when you get home.”

Buck looks away off-screen, a beautiful rose tinge to his cheeks that only highlights his features instead of detracting from them in the rapidly fading light. “He will?”

“Of course Christopher will,” Eddie immediately argues, sad that he can’t pull Buck into his arms from an ocean away. “He misses you. I miss you.”

“It’s only been a day,” Buck weakly points out, cerulean gaze sliding back to meet Eddie’s. 

“I miss you when it’s only been five minutes,” Eddie admits. “I always want to be with you.”

The blush is spreading down Buck’s neck, and Eddie knows it’ll keep spreading into a whole body one if he keeps teasing Buck. “Me too.”

Eddie clears his throat before he says something dumb, like begging Buck just to come home already. “How did your day really go? It sounds like you had some excitement.”

Buck shrugs, the tension falling from his frame. “Nothing 5-0 couldn’t handle.”

“Sure,” Eddie allows. “Nobody got hurt?”

“We’re fine,” Buck assures him, then changes topics slightly. “Kono told Steve she only needs two weeks, and then she’ll be back.”

“Okay,” Eddie manages to say, biting his tongue. 

Amusement crosses Buck’s face. “Which means in about two weeks, 5-0 will be back at full strength.”

“And?” Eddie will not beg. He will not pressure Buck to come home before he’s ready.

“I was thinking about what that means for me.”

Eddie makes a noise of encouragement, the words barely contained in his chest that want to spill out. 

“I don’t know for sure yet… but I might come home then.”

“Oh?”

Buck ducks his head, watching Eddie from underneath those long, curly lashes. “Yeah. I mean, if you want me?”

“I will always want you, cariño,” Eddie confesses, voice gone low and breathy as he fights to get the words out. “I miss you so much, Buck. I’m not sure how I will sleep tonight without you here.”

Buck chuckles, a looseness to his movements that suggests Eddie has chosen the right words. “Me too. I’m hoping your pillow still smells like you.”

Eddie groans, his cock stirring at the thought of Buck sniffing his used pillow, which is frankly ridiculous but endearing, and Eddie wants to fall asleep wrapped in Buck every night, nose tucked in the angle of neck and jaw like he had for the few precious nights he’d had so far. His pillow is a poor substitute, but Eddie doesn’t even have that. Buck’s conveniently left-behind hoodies have long since lost the scent of his cologne, and he now smells of Eddie’s laundry detergent rather than his amour. 

At this rate, he won’t sleep tonight because he’ll be too busy with his hand stuck between his legs, thinking about his partner. “Buck…”

“I’ll be home soon, Eds.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I don’t think anything could keep me away from you and Christopher.”

“Same. I love you” rolls off his tongue, and the brilliant smile that Buck flashes at the words smothers the little worried voice in Eddie’s head, and he knows it will all work out for them. 

“I love you too, Eds.”

“Stay safe?”

“Always. Do the same for me.”

“I will.”

***

Dawn of his first day back at the 118 comes early. Despite his worries, Eddie had slept well after Buck’s call. His dreams were full of Buck—days at the beach or family outings at the zoo, cuddling on the couch, cooking in the kitchen, and stealing kisses. As he wakes, Eddie swears he can feel phantom fingers tug at this clothing, begging him to stay and dream of Buck and what their life together is going to be like. 

Eddie both does and doesn’t want to go to work. 

On one hand, he wants to rip off the bandaid and get it over with. On the other, he’s dreading any and all comments as well as whatever reaction Bobby is going to have about everything. Hen will probably try to be supportive, but there are times when her support comes off as patronizing, and Eddie doesn’t want that. Chimney is likely to make an ill-advised joke that Eddie has already been mentally telling himself that he will just ignore, which is easier said than done. 

What really matters is how Bobby reacts. Everyone else is going to take their cues from the captain. 

Christopher is, not unsurprisingly, clingy this morning and lingers over breakfast, moodily glaring at his Cheerios. 

“Mijo, finish that up, and I’ll drop you at school before work.”

Huffing and rolling his eyes, Christopher makes short work of destroying his cereal and finishing his orange juice. Eddie would have made omelets if he weren’t himself feeling more than a little apprehensive. 

Determined not to let his nerves show, Eddie hustles Christopher through the rest of their morning routine and into the truck.

At school drop-off, he gets eyed appreciatively by Christopher’s English teacher. “Mr. Diaz! Glad to hear you’re home.”

Eddie brushes her off and focuses on saying goodbye to Christopher. “It is good to be home. Mijo? You be good?”

“I’m always good,” Christopher sassily informs him before wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck tightly and whispering in Eddie’s ear. “Please be careful?”

“Always, Mijo,” Eddie promises, kissing Christopher’s temple as he hugs him back firmly. “Carla will pick you up tonight, and Abuela wants you for a sleepover. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Christopher squeezes him tighter before releasing Eddie. “You better.”

Rolling his eyes at his son’s sass, Eddie squeezes back before letting Christopher slip loose. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Mijo.”

“Love you, Dad,” Christopher says before grabbing the teacher’s hand—Ms. Flores, if Eddie remembers correctly—and tugging her away from Eddie so she can’t linger. 

Idly, Eddie wonders how often Christopher has done something like this. He can admit that he doesn’t always pick up on when someone is hitting on him. Still, it’s not the first time Ms. Flores has eyed him like a juicy steak—parent-teacher conferences had been an experience with Carla pointing out which teachers had made it a point to offer up their current single status to Eddie. 

Carla’s running tally at the end of the night had been five. Only three of those teachers regularly interacted with Christopher, and the other two attempted to make idle small talk between stations. 

It’d been six if you counted the school nurse. 

Either way, none of them matter to Eddie.

The only person he wants is Buck. 

He yearns for Buck like a heroine in one of Abuela’s telenovelas. 

Reluctantly, Eddie drives to the station. 

The 118 is just as he left it, both bay doors open, showing the trucks within. Parking around the side, Eddie grabs his work bag and heads for the locker room, quickly changing into uniform so he’s right on time for the handoff report without a second to spare. 

Hen comes to stand next to him, her shoulder brushing his as Chimney joins her on the other side, chewing on something he’d stolen from the kitchen. Bobby acknowledges Eddie’s presence with a nod, gathers his clipboard, and begins reading off assignments. 

“Hen and Chimney—we need to do inventory on RA-1. C shift used a lot of supplies overnight and didn’t have time to restock before the handover. Eddie, I need to talk to you about your assignment. Question? Dismissed.”

Everyone heads off to begin their chore list for the day while Eddie stays behind, waiting for them to leave before approaching Bobby. 

“Cap?” Eddie sticks with being semi-formal, not yet relaxing as Bobby sighs and heads for the kitchen to finish cleaning up, handing Eddie a sponge and gesturing to the sink where a few pans need scrubbing. 

“I got your paperwork from Frank clearing you to be here,” Bobby starts, words stilted and neutral. “Do you have any questions about your clearance to return to work?”

“No.” Eddie doesn’t have questions about his clearance to work. He has loads of questions about whether or not everyone else is. “Frank didn’t give me any restrictions.”

“Should he have?” Slips out, and Bobby’s eyes widen slightly, suggesting he hadn’t meant to say that. 

Eddie straightens, hands full of suds. “I’m okay, Cap. I wouldn’t be cleared to be here if I weren’t.”

“Okay,” Bobby backtracks. “Do you have questions about anything else?”

Eddie briefly debates letting things go but decides, in for a penny, in for a pound. “When Buck comes home, are you going to let him return to being my partner?”

Bobby is surprised and doesn’t bother to hide it, looking uncomfortable. “It’s been made clear to me that I am to be as objective as possible.”

“That’s not a yes or no,” Eddie grumbles. “Is Buck going to be allowed back to full duties?”

“He’s been cleared for that,” Bobby sidesteps again. 

“Yes or no, Bobby,” Eddie growls. “Am I getting my partner back where he belongs, or should I start looking at a new station?”

He’s surprised Bobby slightly. “You’d do that?”

“Buck is my partner,” Eddie firmly states as he scours the frying pan that someone had burnt something in—probably Gonzales, who always forgets he put something on the burner and gets distracted by whatever else is happening in the station. 

“I saw new paperwork in your file,” Bobby points out argumentatively. “There will be an evaluation period.”

Bobby is talking about the declaration relationship form that Eddie had filled out when he’d been filling in all the other HR paperwork about returning to work that he’d submitted as soon as the plane had hit the tarmac. “Yeah, and I’ve asked that the evaluation be filled out by another captain like Edwards from C shift.”

Bobby visibly winces. “That is probably a good idea.”

Eddie sighs, not wanting to pick another fight. “Bobby, are you going to let Buck have his job back, or are we both job hunting? It’s a simple question.”

“With a not-so-simple answer.”

“Yes or no—which is it?”

“I want both you and Buck here,” Bobby says instead. “I just want both of you to be safe.”

“We are both as safe as we can be. We’re safer together. Always have been.”

Bobby eventually nods, accepting that Eddie has a point. “Buck can be so careless.”

“Buck is not careless, and you know it,” Eddie argues back. “Buck will always do whatever he can for the people we’ve been called to help. He’s not needlessly reckless, and he needs someone like me at his back.”

“I did pick you for that,” Bobby admits. 

“I know you did. You said you had someone you wanted me to be a partner for. I’m sure you didn’t know how seriously I’d take that on—or maybe you did?”

“You’re giving me too much credit. I thought you’d balance each other out.”

“And we do, Bobby. I don’t think anyone else could work as well with either of us as we do together.” 

“Yeah, everyone knows.”

“So let us be that pair of partners, Bobby. I’m not saying don’t remind us to be careful or that we shouldn’t sometimes be told off for doing something dumb. What I’m saying is that Buck and I work best together. We’ll keep it professional in-house.”

Bobby bites his lips, fighting a smile. “If you steal the ladder truck…”

“It won’t be for sex,” Eddie says with an eye roll. “I’m sure Buck will have found a cat up in a tree or something equally ridiculous.”

Bobby does laugh at the idea of Buck saving cats from trees. “Don’t give him any ideas.”

“Who says it’ll be his idea?” Eddie playfully argues back. “I’m the cat person in this relationship. I’m pretty sure Buck will talk me into getting Christopher a dog.”

“A service animal would be great for Christopher,” Bobby points out, just as bad as Buck. 

“Dios. I’m going to be ganged up on until we have an entire pack.”

“Cats get hair everywhere,” Bobby reasonably argues. 

“Like dogs are any better,” Eddie swears under his breath. After discussing it with Buck and Deacon, he’d already looked into a service dog, and they’re expensive. 

The call bell ringing dissuades further discussion. It is a minor accident, but spending the next two hours separating vehicles with the jaws and working with Daniels. Hen and Chim flit through his periphery, snatching victims for transport, but for the most part, he’s left to get his work done. 

The rest of the day goes similarly; without a moment to catch their breath, they go from call to call, as if the universe is granting Eddie relief by keeping everyone too busy to harass him other than to shove his fast food order into his hands between calls. They don’t catch a breather until early evening and can take stock. 

Hen finds Eddie as he restocks the bags for the Ladder. 

“Eddie,” Hen says as she sidles close enough for a hug that he allows. Eddie’s good with more hugs in his life after his kidnapping. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Eddie simply says. It’s the truth. 

“You gave us quite the scare. How’s Christopher?”

“He’s doing good.”

Hen hesitates, obviously wanting to ask more questions. 

“You can ask,” Eddie says, giving her permission. He’d rather get this over with than have an awkward cup of coffee after work. 

“Who did Christopher stay with? Athena said it was a friend of yours, but she wouldn’t name names in case it was related to you being snatched off the street.”

“Deacon Kay. He’s with SWAT and has a bunch of kids.”

“Oh,” Hen says, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. “It was all decided before Karen and I could offer. Athena did say Christopher was safe, and I suppose a SWAT officer would be pretty damn safe.”

“I trust Deacon, and Buck knows him, too.”

Hen’s eyes narrow at the mention of Buck’s name. “And how is Buck?” When I texted him, all he said was that the police were looking for you and that everything would be fine.”

“Everything ended up fine,” Eddie points out defensively, quelling the urge to yell at Hen. She hadn’t had much information, which had been done by design. Buck had mentioned they’d kept details to a minimum to avoid more problems. 

“Yes, but how is Buck? Nobody knows where he is.”

Eddie debates what to say. Buck has given him permission to say whatever he wants about his kidnapping, but Eddie doesn’t want all the dirty details out there for people to speculate about. Also, the knowledge of what Buck used to get up to while a Seal is something private that Hen doesn’t need to know about. 

“Buck was aware of what was going on. I saw him before coming home.”

“Okay….” It’s written all over Hen’s face that she wants to drag all the details out of Eddie, but she relents. “Is Buck doing well?”

“Buck is doing great.” It is a nice, neat answer that answers none of the burning questions that Hen likely has. 

“Well, that’s good to know. Do you know when he’s coming home?”

Eddie shrugs. “I didn’t hear a definitive date.”

“But he is coming home, right?” Hen presses, losing all pretense of being casual.

“He’s going to come back to LA,” Eddie says, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not sure if he plans on staying or not. You’ll have to ask him.”

Hen rolls her eyes at him, “You know more than you’re saying.”

The accusation isn’t wrong. “I do, but Buck’s plans are Buck’s business—not yours.”

“We all miss him,” Hen argues. 

“Then prove it,” Eddie snipes back gently. “Stop treating him like a kid, Hen. He’s an adult, and you forget that sometimes.”

“An adult-sized kid,” she tries to joke, but Eddie corrects her immediately. 

“Hen—Buck is my partner. He’s as much an adult as I am; you need to realize that and treat him as such. I know he’s younger than you, but that’s not an excuse.”

Hen pauses, thinking before she speaks. “You’re right.”

“Treat him like you would any other adult, and everything will be fine. No making decisions for him, no thinking you need to correct him. He doesn’t need that from Bobby, and he doesn’t need it from you, Chim, or anybody else.”

Hen winces. “Okay, Edmundo. You made your point.”

“Don’t start that, Henrietta.”

“Gah! Don’t!” Hen exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, making the point that she understands what Eddie is saying. “Tell that man of yours he needs to come home in one piece.”

“Tell him yourself. Communication works both ways,” Eddie smoothly points out. 

“Yeah, yeah. Be adults,” Hen grumbles, but it’s playful, and Eddie knows that things between her and Buck will work out as they weren’t as bad as everyone else’s problems. “You need help?”

“Sure.”

Together, they make short work of restocking the ladder supplies and move on to helping Chim with the ambulance. They finish just in time to scarf down the lasagna Bobby made for dinner before the call bell rings, and they’re off to another motor vehicle accident and then back to shower and crawl into bed for a few hours of downtime before a two AM calloutfor more smash-ups. 

Chim doesn’t bother cornering Eddie until the shift is almost over, all of them lingering around the coffee maker as they wait for it to brew. 

“Buck doing okay?” Chim asks Eddie, face tired. 

“Yeah. He’s good.”

Chim nods decisively; gaze focused on the drip drip drip of the coffee. “Let me know if he needs anything.”

“Ask him yourself,” Eddie grumbles. 

Chim tilts his head and nods again. “Good point.”

Hen sputters and then rolls her eyes. “Men.”

“Don’t go casting those stones, Henrietta,” Eddie teases. “You live in a glass house on this one.”

“Edmundo,” Hen growls, snatching the coffee carafe just as the dripping stops and holding it out of Eddie’s and Chim’s reach. “Mine!”

“No fair!” Chim cries, and eventually, Hen relents and gives him the first cup she pours, and Eddie gets the second. The rest of the shift is watching them from the dining tables like they’re feral animals. 

“Children,” Bobby loudly says, stealing the carafe. “Breakfast is served. Go sit at the table.”

“Yes, Bobby,” they all say in unison before squabbling over seats like unruly brats. Their mouths are soon too full of bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, eggs, and toast to argue further. 

As B shift arrives, Bobby gives Eddie a nod of approval. Eddie supposes he’s okay without further discussion. He’s got his bed calling his name, and Buck is going to call when he gets up in a few hours. 

Buck will be home in a few weeks.  Eddie only needs to be patient and he’ll have his amour back in his arms soon enough. 

***

I gotta get home there’s a garden to tend

All the seeds from the fruit buried and began 

Their own family trees, teach them thank you and please

 

Buck

FaceTime, texting, and voice calls aren’t enough.

Not nearly enough. 

Having had Eddie in his arms and bed for only a handful of days could never be enough. 

Buck misses his lover and partner, but he’s still needed here in Hawai’i. 

He’d promised Kono, but he feels like he tore his heart out of his chest and gave it to Eddie to take because of how much his chest aches to be with Eddie. 

Danny, unwilling to let Buck or Steve get away with any more manly pining than necessary, makes a pointed suggestion. “I think you need to go spend the afternoon with Mamo.”

Steve agrees. “Yeah, we’re just doing paperwork.”

“You’re sure?” Buck hedges, uncertain. He’d been playing gopher all morning and had only been asking for lunch orders to make a trip to Kamekona’s truck, thinking he could spend an hour or two playing sous chef to the Hawaiian to keep himself preoccupied. At the same time, everyone else does the less fun part of the job that Buck can’t do, as he’s a California peace officer. 

“Yes. Take Steve’s truck,” Danny instructs, but Buck can’t find it in himself to argue. 

Sanding surfboards with Mamo is preferable to staring at a computer screen any day of the week. “Should I get lunch first?”

“Yeah,” Steve says absently. “Kamekona was grumbling that he hadn’t seen you a few days ago.”

“Great,” Buck rapidly agrees, taking the excuse to escape and snagging Steve’s keys from his desk. 

“No lights and sirens!” Danny calls after Buck, grumbling something under his breath about overly aggressive seals. 

Buck ignores him. He’s already halfway down the stairs to the parking lot. 

***

“Baby seal!” Kamekona greets Buck enthusiastically with a backslapping hug that practically engulfs Buck. “You’re just in time for the lunch rush.”

“Just in time?” Buck protests halfheartedly. 

“Yeah. I’ve been missing my padawan. You’re the only white boy I’ve ever met that isn’t hopeless with cooking,” Kamekona says as he hands Buck one of his humongous aprons with Kamekona’s smiling face on the front. 

Donning the apron and having to wrap it twice around himself to tie it, Buck takes rapid-fire orders from the big Hawaiian, losing himself in the rhythm of being a short-order cook. 

Kamekona wasn’t kidding about the rush part. The food truck is swamped with tourists and locals alike, all hungry for plate lunches. Buck is busy with a pan in one hand and a large flipper in the other, stir-frying as Kamekona dances around him, dishing up rice, macaroni salad, and different sides while exchanging out proteins that Buck cooks to perfection, adding dashes of spices and slinging sauces. 

He’s more than a little surprised when Danny shows up at the back door. “I see this is why our lunch never showed up.”

“Huh?” Buck says, maybe a little dazed from cooking so much food so quickly (or perhaps a bit high from the fumes from the gas cookstove in the enclosed space). 

“Food. Lunch,” Danny emphasizes. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Uh….” Buck has no excuse, and Kamekona is too busy laughing to help him. 

“Your usual?” Kamekona finally asks between belly-shaking laughs. 

“Yes, please,” Danny says. “Should I leave Buck with you? We were going to send him to Mamo for the afternoon.”

Buck feels like he should be annoyed that Danny’s treating him like a kid being handed off between babysitters. 

“Let me keep him for another hour, and then I’ll send him on his way. Lunch is almost over,” Kamekona bargains amiably. 

Danny shrugs. “Works for us. Make sure he has your recipes memorized for when he goes home to LA. I want to steal them from him.”

Kamekona rolls his eyes, jovially teasing back. “You could come work for me too, Danno. Could whip that haole ass of yours into shape so you keep Steve fed.”

Danny is noncommittal and ignores the easy implication that he’s responsible for Steve. “Don’t call me Danno,” he grumbles as he forks over a few bills to Kamekona in exchange for a bag of garlic shrimp and teriyaki chicken. “Don’t forget to feed Buck before you release him.”

“Never,” the big man swears, pretending to be mock offended at the thought of anyone he knows going hungry. “Nobody goes hungry around Kamekona.”

“And you’re referring to yourself in the third person—my cue to exit. Buck, don’t forget. Mamo is expecting you.”

“Yeah,” Buck waves the flipper at Danny as he makes more of the garlic shrimp to make up for the portions Danny just made up with—there’s an overly made-up tourist glaring at him through the order window as she waits impatiently on her food that Danny just stole.

Kamekona and him work together to get the dwindling lunch crowd their food. When the work gradually dwindles, Kamekona gently takes the pan out of Buck’s hand. “You heading home?”

Misunderstanding, Buck explains. “Mamo is expecting me. Danny must have called him.”

Kamekona sighs, seriousness replacing the usual happiness on the big man’s face. “No. You going home? LA?”

Buck bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, well, eventually. Not sure exactly how soon, but soon.”

“You’re waiting for Kono to be back,” Kamekona guesses.

“Yeah,” Buck admits. “I’m going to miss your cooking.”

“You’re not half bad yourself, white boy,” Kamekona gently chides. “I’m going to miss my sous chef.”

Buck shrugs, taking the compliment. “Danny said to steal your recipes. I won’t tell him.”

Kamekona chuckles. “Danny can get my recipes whenever he likes—but don’t tell him that. Hold on a minute,” the big man moves past Buck and retrieves a small carved box made of koa wood with the Hawaiian honu on the lid. “I got this for you. Knew you’d be going home eventually.”

“What is it?” Buck asks, wiping his greasy fingers on the apron before carefully opening the box. Inside is a collection of index cards and a few carefully marked packets of spices. Head snapping up, Buck stares at Kamekona, choking up. “Is this?”

“My secret recipes,” the big man gruffly says. “I haven’t had time to teach you all of them yet, so I want you to practice, and when you come back to visit Steve and Danny, I’ll see how you’re doing.”

Buck grabs the Hawaiian and pulls him into a bear hug. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Buck. You’re ’ohana now.”

“Thank you.”

The hug lasts what feels like an eternity, and they only stop because there’s an impatient rattle at the window. “Hey—you guys still serving?”

“Get out of here. Stop by before you leave so I can feed you,” Kamekona orders, and Buck agrees quickly. 

“White boy is gonna waste away with that Mainland cooking,” Kamekona grumbles under his breath as Buck leaves. “Was too skinny until I started feeding him. What do they eat on the Mainland, anyway?”

***

Mamo is less emotional than Kamekona, but the older kahuna senses that Buck is unsettled. “You are missing your ipo.”

“Ipo?” Buck questions, not knowing the word but knowing he’s heard it before from someone. 

“Your sweetheart—lover,” Mamo says with a knowing mischievous smile. “Steve mentioned it when he called.”

“Steve’s a traitor,” Buck growls playfully, then sobers. “Yeah. I’m missing Eddie.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Mamo asks pointedly, gesturing for Buck to continue removing the old board wax. The old surfer had decided that Buck was too agitated for sanding the beautiful boards and instead was making him clean the surfboards used to instruct students. 

“Well,” Buck starts, uncertain how to explain. “I promised Kono I’d stay so she could be with Adam. So there wouldn’t be a hole on 5-0.”

“And? That is not a promise of forever.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I guess I’ll probably go home when she returns to work.”

Mamo hums, working on his own surfboard to remove the dried wax. “What’s different from before?”

Buck blinks, unsure. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“What makes this different from before?” Mamo calmly restates his question. “You were working with Kono before, so surely it is not necessary for you to stay through her entire leave. It is the nature of work to have one person on leave and the others to keep working. What is different?”

Mamo does have a point. “I promised? That’s what’s different.”

“But was it necessary, or are you using it as an excuse?”

Buck opens and closes his mouth. Is he making an excuse to stay here longer? Eddie hadn’t fought him over it…

“Buck, I did not mean for you to have a heart attack over the question,” Mamo chides. “So when do you think you will be going back to LA? It is very telling that you think of it as home.”

“It’s because LA is home. It’s where Eddie and Christopher are,” Buck answers automatically as a heavy weight lifts off his shoulders. 

Home isn’t a physical location. It’s a who—or a pair of who. 

Mamo’s laughter pulls Buck out of his epiphany. “So, you figured something out. What was it?”

“Home isn’t a place, it’s people.”

“Yes,” Mamo agrees. “You can also have more than one home, or it can change over your lifetime. You carry your home in your heart when it is people.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. You’ll never be alone if you are loved, Buck, and many people very dearly love you. Steve speaks of you as his brother, his kaikaina.”

“That’s because he is,” Buck whispers. “He and Freddie.”

Mamo nods sagely. “And while Freddie has gone on, Steve remains. He will always come for you.”

“He will,” Buck echoes, knowing the words are inadequate to describe the chosen family bonds between him and Steve. “I didn’t mean for him to become that.”

Mamo waves off his excuse. “That is because it always happens that way. Steve chose you long ago. Your ipo has also chosen you as his lifemate, and you have chosen him too.”

“I did choose Eddie. It happened without thinking.”

“That’s the way love is,” Mamo says gently. “So what are you doing here before you go home? You must have something you need to do?”

“I need to figure out how to go home,” Buck says, wincing as he says it. “I’m scared of what will happen when I do.”

“You are scared of your Eddie?”

“No. Never,” Buck swears. “I’m scared that the rest of my family in LA doesn’t want me back. We were fighting when I left.”

“You have said as much. It sounded to me like much of this fighting was because they had been scared they were going to lose you to your injuries.”

“I was really badly hurt,” Buck agrees. “I was scared too, but I fought to get back to work, and it felt like nobody wanted me there.”

“Even your Eddie?”

“He wanted me back, but I hurt him when I stopped talking to him,” Buck admits.“We’ve promised that we won’t do that again.”

“That is a promise to work on for the rest of your life,” Mamo says, his gnarled hands quickly scraping away the old wax. 

“I like the sound of that—the rest of my life.”

Mamo chuckles, the sound warm like the sunshine. “You forgave your Eddie. What has the rest of your ‘ohana said?”

Buck thinks about the text messages he’s gotten over the past few weeks since Eddie was first kidnapped. The quiet message from Hen saying ‘Let me know if Karen or I can do anything’to Chimney’s ‘I’m keeping an eye on Maddie; I promise she’s safe with me.’ Bobby had texted asking that he please check in that he’s alive and not hurt, which Buck had tersely responded to and said that Hondo or someone would let Bobby know if he wasn’t coming back to LA. Athena had sent him daily anecdotes about everyone, but the ending was the same, ‘Stay safe, baby’ like Buck was one of her children instead of the troublesome firefighter she tolerated because he worked for her husband. Maddie had demanded he call her, and he’d put it off as long as possible, purposefully leaving a voice mail in the middle of the night saying he was fine and they’d talk when he came home. 

His people miss him. It’s in every word, every voicemail. 

Why is he still in Hawai’i?

“Maybe we should talk about how to handle everyone when you get home,” Mamo wisely says and then slowly drags the outline of a plan on how to handle the sometimes invasive questions and concerns Buck is likely to encounter upon returning to LA. Mamo works through what ifs and how to remember that Buck is allowed his feelings that are not less important than other people’s. 

By the time they’re done, the surfboards are clean and racked, and they’re enjoying fresh lilikoi juice while staring out at the waves breaking offshore. 

“I think you are ready to go home,” Mamo says, grasping Buck’s arm to add gravitas to his point.

“I think I am, too.”

“Then I want to teach you one last thing,” the kahuna says, gesturing to the tray of macadamia nut cookies his wife had brought them. 

“What’s that?”

“We say a hui hou instead of goodbye.”

“I thought you said aloha as both a hello and a goodbye?”

Mamo shakes his head. “We do, but we also say a hui hou because it means until we meet again.”

“I like that.”

“Aloha, a hui hou, Buck. May we meet again when you visit.”

“I’ll bring Eddie and Christopher next time,” Buck promises. “Aloha, a hui hou, Mamo.”

“A hui hou,” Mamo repeats, pulling Buck in for a hug. “You take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

***

The next hurdle is figuring out how to tell Steve he wants to return to LA. Fortunately, Danny takes that out of Buck’s hands. 

“So, Kono said she plans on being back next Monday. Have you bought your return ticket yet, or do you need me to pull some strings?”

Buck stares at Danny open-mouthed. 

“What? Do I have something on my shirt?” Danny looks down to make sure he hasn’t spilled coffee on himself. Steve, meanwhile, is happily shoveling in Rainbow’s breakfast special. 

“Uh, no, I haven’t.”

“You were planning on going home, right?” Danny’s brow furrows in concern. “Did Eddie say something stupid last night on your call?”

“No—Eddie’s great. We’re great. I didn’t…”

“We’re not kicking you out,” Steve finally breaks in, “but you’ve been pining.”

“Pining so much,” Danny echoes in agreement. “Chin asked if we needed to take you out to dinner. You’ve been pining so hard.”

“I am not,” Buck protests out of habit, but there’s no heat in it. “I haven’t bought my ticket yet.”

“Great. Let me set you up then. I can get you the same deal I got, Eddie.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Yeah, I do. You’re not folding those giraffe legs of yours into economy. I’ve seen Steve on flights to the Mainland, and I can’t imagine you’re much better.”

“Leg room is great in first,” Steve adds as input, happily smiling at Danny’s initiative. 

“Did you two plan this?” Buck asks, suspicious at the mellow double-teaming. 

“Nah,” Steve admits. 

“You’re really relaxed,” Buck points out. “Like the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you.”

“He’s getting laid on the regular,” Danny explains, then starts quizzing Buck on his flight preferences. 

Before Buck can say no, he has an email with a confirmation for a flight reservation courtesy of 5-0 and all before they officially start work for the day. 

Steve notices he’s out of sorts but waits until Danny is busy talking with Chin to pull Buck aside. “Hey—you okay? I’m sorry Danny ambushed you about the plane ticket, but you were starting to look pretty miserable.”

Buck shrugs. Danny isn’t wrong in that he’s been missing Eddie terribly, and phone calls and FaceTime aren’t the same as being with Eddie. Eddie’s been back at work for three shifts now, and things are going okay, meaning that Buck needs to fish or cut bait on going home. 

“You worried?” Steve presses. 

“Kinda, but not about Eddie. It’s going to be awkward going back to work.”

“How so? You left on good terms and behaved yourself even if nobody else was.”

“Some might look at it and think I was running away.”

“I borrowed you, remember?” Steve jokes, watching Buck closely. “If it doesn’t work out, remember you have options. I talked to the HFD, and they’re interested in hearing from you and Eddie if you’re interested. You always have a job here if you want it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I could even find something for Eddie to do,” Steve offers. 

“Eddie went into firefighting for a reason,” Buck argues. “He’s had enough of guns for a lifetime.”

“I can respect that,” Steve says, caving. “I never said the job had to be with us. HFD would be an option, or we can always find something else. We take care of our ‘ohana here.”

“Thanks, Steve. I know I haven’t said that enough, but thanks for what you did.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re ‘ohana, Buck.”

Steve doesn’t argue when Buck pulls him into a hug. 

“Now, let’s discuss your going away party. I was thinking of grilling out on the lanai.”

“You grill out every other night already!” Buck squawks In protest. 

“Yeah, but you can’t really go wrong with grilling…”

***

Buck’s going away party is well attended. It feels like half of HPD shows up, and Buck’s been introduced to more people with names that start with K than he can keep track of. Kono is there as well, looking much better as is her husband, Adam. Kamekona takes over the grill from Steve and is cooking up a storm when Buck slips away to call Eddie. 

“Hey, cariño. Christopher’s already asleep.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I, uh, was calling to talk to you.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m coming home.

Eddie inhales sharply, his reply breathy. “When?”

“Can you pick me up on Saturday morning at LAX? I messaged Bobby I could be back for Sunday’s shift.” Tomorrow is Friday, and his flight leaves late. He will arrive early Saturday morning. This isn’t a lot of notice, but Buck hopes Eddie can pick him up. 

“I can pick you up,” Eddie rushes to agree. “You’re coming home?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m coming home.”

“I can’t wait, cariño.”

“Buck—the food’s almost ready,” Steve calls. 

“Sounds like you’re at a party?”

“It’s my going away party,” Buck confesses. “Short notice.”

“I don’t care what kind of notice it is. I’ll be there to pick you up. Send me your flight details?”

“I will.”

“Then go enjoy your party. I’ll see you Saturday, cariño.”

“Love you, Eds.”

“Love you, too, Ev. Say thanks to everyone for me, for looking out for you.”

“I will.”

***

Eddie meets him at Arrivals with Christopher, holding a sign that says ‘Welcome Home Buck’ bursting with rainbows, hearts, and way too much glitter, way too early on Saturday morning. Christopher practically vibrates where he stands and throws himself bodily at Buck as soon as he’s in range. 

Buck catches Christopher before he hits the ground, sweeping him up into a hug as Christopher’s limbs wrap around him like a koala, tighter than a boa constrictor and not giving up his hold any time soon as his crutches are caught by an amused Eddie who is left holding the sign to smile fondly as Buck and Christopher reunite, juggling a recording cell phone, sign, and crutches. 

“Buck!” Christopher screams in delight right into Buck’s ear, making him laugh so hard Buck is crying. “Buck!”

He’s missed them both so much. How could he have left?

“I’ve missed you too,” Buck tells Christopher, dropping a kiss on his forehead that gets him a scrunched nose and a cute little sneeze before Eddie hugs them both. Buck is crying because he’s so happy to have them both back.

Eddie, the bastard, steals his breath with a kiss that makes Buck’s knees go weak.

“Welcome home, cariño,” Eddie says when they have to break for air, Christopher groaning from his proximity to his dad and Buck kissing. 

“Are you going to be doing that a lot?” Christopher grumbles.

“Kissing Buck?” Eddie asks, expression full of false innocence. 

“Ugh. Yes!”

Eddie raises one eyebrow at Buck, asking for permission. This time, he leans forward for another lingering, soul-stealing kiss. “You mean like this, Mijo?”

Buck is too dazed from being kissed, and he misses the playful argument his Diaz boys engage in as he’s relieved of his duffle by Eddie, who takes Buck’s free hand in his as Buck switches Christopher to his hip to carry. 

“How about we move this party to the truck?” Eddie asks with a squeeze of his hand, and Buck follows him, so happy that he floats the entire way out to short-term parking, feet barely touching the ground. 

They’re all buckled up, and Eddie reclaims Buck’s hand over the center console. “You ready to go home?”

“Yeah, Eds. I am.”

“Shave ice first!” Christopher interjects from the back seat. “We have to see if Buck thinks Ululani’s is good!”

“I don’t know,” Buck playfully says, smiling through the heavily doubt-laden words. “I don’t know if anything can beat Matsumoto’s.”

“Matsumoto’s is better,” Eddie argues in the same tone, “but Ululani’s isn’t bad.”

“Gah, Dad!” Christopher protests. “Ululani’s is so good!”

“We’ll have to take Christopher to Hawai’i next time,” Eddie idly says as he pulls out of the parking space. “So he can try Matsumoto’s.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, his heart in his throat, as Eddie mentions a return trip to Hawai’i. He settles into his seat, content to let Eddie drive and bask in the presence of his partner and kid—his family and ‘ohana.

Everything is going to work itself out. He’s happy to be home. 

 

Epilogue

 

As they Spread their own roots then watch the young fruit grow again

And this old trail will lead me right back to where it begins

 

Eddie

Eddie watches as Christopher sleeps, head tucked into Buck’s shoulder from where he’d fallen asleep while Buck read him his bedtime story. Buck also looks at Christopher with a soft expression, eyes warm like the ocean on that beach where they’d had their second, unforgettable kiss. Padding over silently, Eddie takes the book out of Buck’s loose hands, getting his attention. 

The small, content smile that curls on his lips as Buck looks up at Eddie, makes him want to kiss Buck until they’re both gasping for air. Eddie loves them both so much his heart is full, stealing his breath. 

Whispering to not wake Christopher, he tries to entice Buck from his son’s bed. “He’s out like a light.”

“Yeah,” Buck replies, glancing down and tucking one errant curl behind Christopher’s delicate ear before leaning down to kiss the forehead as he lifts the glasses away and places them in their usual spot on the nightstand. “I missed this.”

Eddie can’t help but grin in pleasure. Buck is where he belongs—with them. “We missed you too.”

Eyes flicking up and back down, Buck begins sliding out from underneath. Christopher frowns in his sleep before nuzzling into his pillow and settling, curls going every which way as the blanket is pulled tight around his slender shoulders as Buck tucks it in. 

Bending down to press his own kiss to the crown of his son’s head, Eddie follows Buck to the kitchen. Standing before the open fridge, Buck stares at the shelves like they hold the answers to the universe. 

“Buck?” Eddie calls, standing behind Buck so there is only an inch between Buck’s back and his chest. Eddie doesn’t want to startle Buck. 

Buck’s hand on the door tightens before he looks over his shoulder at Eddie. He closes the door without removing anything and leans back into the appliance. In the dim kitchen lit only by moonlight from the window over the sink, his handsome features are in shadow as he appraises Eddie, hands braced against the flat surface. 

Taking a step closer to close the distance, Eddie calls his lover’s name again. “Buck?”

Buck turns toward the window, the moonlight bringing his features into stark relief, but his eyes are focused on Eddie. “I don’t know what to do next, Eds.”

“What do you want, cariño?” 

“I want,” Buck bites his lower lip, expression vulnerable. “I want you and Chris. That’s all I need.”

“You have us,” Eddie promises, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. He takes another half-step towards Buck, their bodies almost touching, but he keeps his hands at his sides. 

“I know you made me promises, but I won’t hold you to them. You were—“

“No.” He doesn’t resist the urge to gather Buck in his arms this time. Crowding into Buck’s body, one hand going to the left hip and the other cradling Buck’s jaw so his lover can only look right at Eddie instead of away, Eddie renews the promise he spoke to Buck on Oahu. “I meant what I said. You have my back, and I have yours. Always. You’re mine and Christopher’s, Buck.” 

He pauses, aware that a few tears are gathering in Buck’s eyes this close, but those bright ocean-blue eyes are fastened on him now, unable to look away. “And we’re yours,” he breathes against Buck’s mouth. “For forever, if you’ll have us.”

“No takebacks,” Buck says into Eddie’s mouth as he moves against him, arms wrapping around Eddie’s shoulders as their mouths press together. The distance between their bodies disappears, and Eddie is pressed into Buck’s body, seeking warmth.

It’s been too many days. Too many miles between them. He’s missed Buck from the moment he stepped away from him outside Honolulu International. Eddie had almost gotten off the plane, but he’d been held fast because he’d needed to get back to Christopher. 

Nothing else would have convinced him to leave Buck behind. 

Eddie might have been looking up plane tickets on his phone before Buck had called, saying he was coming home. He’d already decided that pulling Chris out of school for a few days or weeks wouldn’t have been a problem, and they could figure things out once they were back together. 

Wherever that may have been.

Buck taking the decision out of his hands had been a pleasant surprise. 

They’d had a good day after picking Buck up at LAX. They’d briefly stopped at the loft to grab Buck’s work bag and uniform before stopping for a way too early shave ice that wasn’t as good as Matsumoto’s on the North Shore. Abuela had insisted he bring Buck over for lunch, and they’d spent most of the afternoon visiting with her before returning home. 

Eddie has a question he wants to ask, but he’s scared it’s too soon. 

“Eds,” Buck groans his name, inhaling before teething at the angle of Eddie’s jaw, making his knees threaten to buckle. 

“Buck,” Eddie manages, his thoughts straying from the conversation. He refocuses on Buck being here in his arms and kissing him. “Cariño.”

“I love it when you call me that,” Buck whispers. 

“That does it for you? Pet names, cariño?”

“Fuck.”

“It’s been weeks,” Eddie teases, ignoring the counter's edge digging into his back. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Eds….” 

“How about we move this to the bedroom?”

“Eddie,” Buck whines, but he pliantly follows Eddie toward his bedroom, fingers plucking at Eddie’s clothes in protest. 

🌊 

As soon as the door is closed and locked, they’re back on each other like two connecting magnets, stumbling toward the bed and landing with a shared ‘Ouff!’ Eddie determinedly slows things down, stroking every available inch of skin as he pulls Buck’s clothing off. Buck follows his lead as Eddie pulls Buck atop him.

“Eds?” Buck asks, blinking. 

“Lube’s in the drawer,” Eddie informs his lover, spreading his legs wide in invitation. 

“You’re sure?”

“Get in me, cariño. I’ve been dreaming of you inside me every night since the last night we slept together.”

Buck’s hands shake as he retrieves the hardly used tube from the nightstand, slicking his fingers and then kissing Eddie before one sneaks down to his entrance. He allows Buck’s tongue to distract him, tangling and sparring in a mess of kisses as he feels pressure at his entrance and bears down, moaning as he takes the first finger. 

“Relax, I’ve got you, Eds,” Buck says between nips of teeth that are going to leave a chain of marks around Eddie’s throat. 

“More,” Eddie insists, clenching around the questing finger. He’s been fingering himself nightly—planning this—and he knows he can take more. 

“So impatient,” Buck grouses, but another finger joins the first, twisting and seeking deeper until he hits that spot that makes Eddie see stars. 

Fuck—the angle is better when it’s Buck fingering him. He’d wondered from how Buck had taken him what it felt like…

“Like that?” Buck asks cheekily, targeting Eddie’s prostate with each thrust of his long fingers. Somehow, Eddie knows he’s going to be made to dance on those fingers for the rest of his life, and he’s looking forward to that, but he’d rather they get on with the main event. 

He wants to feel this for days so he can’t forget that Buck came home to him. 

“Another,” Eddie snarls, clenching down as he rides the wave of pleasure induced by a direct hit from Buck’s fingers. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, Eds,” Buck babbles, pupils blown wide as he takes in every twitch Eddie makes. The attention is blistering hot, making Eddie want to preen if he wasn’t so busy trying not to seize in pleasure from a third finger slipping in to join the other two. 

In and out. It’s so fucking good, but Eddie knows Buck’s cock is going to be even more exquisite. 

He almost swallows Buck’s tongue when his lover slips a fourth finger in, jacking Eddie’s cock with his other hand. He’s trapped between two fulcrum points of pleasure, the urge to thrust countering the need to clench down. 

“So beautiful, Eds,” Buck repeats his mouth, finding every hot spot on Eddie’s neck that makes his spine tingle in overstimulation and his toes curl. 

“Please, cariño,” Eddie pleads, wanting more. “I missed you so much.”

“I’m here,” Buck promises, stealing Eddie’s breath. “I’m here, Eds. Open up for me.”

Straining, Eddie spreads his knees wide as Buck settles fully between him, legs hanging over Buck’s arms as he manhandles Eddie into a better angle and stuffing a pillow under his ass. The withdrawal of those taunting fingers has Eddie whimpering, but Buck’s mouth seals over his to steal the instinctive shout as Buck’s cock breaches his entrance. 

Too much, yet not. 

The exquisite burning stretch as Buck seats himself balls deep is something Eddie will never forget. He feels claimed and full to the max, his body straining to accommodate taking his amor in so intimately. Eddie had refrained from buying a toy because he’d wanted Buck to be his first and hadn’t wanted to cheat with an unfeeling piece of silicone. 

Tears leak from Eddie’s eyes, his fingers clutching Buck tight as his heels dig into the muscular back strung taut with the strain of holding still. Buck’s unblinking attention is locked on Eddie, waiting for his signal. 

Taking a deep breath, Eddie purposefully relaxes his muscles one by one, settling into the stretch of the cock root deep in his ass and clenching down. 

Buck swears, and Eddie laughs, taking the chance to nip at Buck’s kiss-swollen lips. “Two can play this game.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Buck snaps, and his hips jerk in a thrust, making Eddie slide several inches up the bed as Buck’s cock makes a direct hit on his prostate. 

“Fuck me,” Eddie orders, biting at Buck’s mouth and commanding Buck to move.

Buck has always been good at following orders, and stars burst behind Eddie’s eyelids at the first real thrust Buck gives. The frantic need of their first coupling is back, hands and mouths roving as they both seek to relearn previously conquered territory. Each gasp and sigh is rewarded with a stroke or thrust that maximizes pleasure as they find their rhythm quickening as they approach the peak. 

Orgasm crashes through with Buck’s hips slowly drawing out aftershocks from Eddie’s body, bellies slick with the amount of come leaking from Eddie’s spent cock. Neither of them cares, too busy trying to climb under the other’s skin to get closer. 

🌊 

In the hazy afterglow as their bodies still, Eddie clings to Buck, foreheads pressed together. 

“I hope Christopher slept through that,” Buck finally comments. 

Eddie chuckles, fingers tracing the lines of Buck’s shoulders and spine. “Christopher could sleep through a meteor strike.”

“Good to know,” Buck mutters, sliding to offset his weight so he’s no longer squishing Eddie. 

Perversely, Eddie immediately misses the anchoring weight. The question he’d been pondering earlier slips out. “Move in with us?”

Buck’s head snaps to allow their eyes to meet. “It’s not too quick?”

“It’s not if we say it’s not. I’ve… you’ve been it for me since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” Eddie admits. “So it’s not too quick. We’ve kinda been dating for almost a year.”

Buck hums in agreement. “I want to move in.”

“Then stay,” Eddie urges. “I never want you to leave.”

“Careful,” Buck teases, eyes dark but gleaming. 

“Never leave us, cariño?”

“Never,” Buck agrees and seals it with a soft kiss that feels like a vow inked on Eddie’s soul.

Reluctantly, they part long enough to rinse off before climbing underneath the sheets and immediately rolling to the center of the bed to tangle together in a knot of limbs. Buck tucks his nose into Eddie’s neck, draped half over him as sleep claims them, and for once, sleep claims Eddie quickly, his dreams full of their future life together.

If they make love another two times that night, that’s between Eddie and Buck. 

***

And so I try to understand what I can’t hold in my hand

And whatever I find, I’ll find my way back to you

 

Buck

Arriving at work the next morning with Eddie’s hand in his for his first day back emboldens Buck. He worries about returning to work but trusts that Eddie has done the job of fending off the most offensive questions and worries by returning first. 

With a squeeze of their conjoined hands, Eddie lets Buck go when Hen greets them at the doors, wrapping her arms around Buck. 

“Buck!” She says, hugging him tight. “I’ve missed you!”

“Did you?” He asks, unable to help himself, his tone light as he returns the hug with a brief squeeze before extracting himself. 

Hen looks scandalized but visibly calms herself when she sees Buck’s expression. “Of course I did—we all did.”

Buck shrugs her explanation off. He knows he will forgive Hen for not calling, emailing, or texting more. She has a lot going on in her life, and her priorities should always be Karen and Denny, as his are now Eddie and Christopher. 

“I got you cupcakes,” Hen confesses. 

“Why?” Buck chuckles. “I’m not coming off an injury.”

“No—but you were gone for a while, and I wanted to celebrate you being back,” Hen says, glossing over everything they probably need to say to each other at some point. Buck lets her, knowing that Hen isn’t the one he will struggle to make everything work with. “What’d you get me?”

“Well, since you were in Hawaii, I asked the baker if she could do something special.”

“Special?” Eddie grumbles, reminding them that he’s here too. Buck can see that Eddie is glaring at Hen to behave herself, and Buck’s heart melts just a little bit at how protective his partner is. 

“Yes,” Hen says, firmly ignoring Eddie’s tone and handing Buck the small box she’d shoved in Eddie’s hands. “Passion fruit with little leis decorating them.”

“Oh, wow,” Buck says as he opens the lid and finds two perfectly decorated cupcakes overflowing with plumeria made of frosting that look almost lifelike. “She did a great job—these almost look real.”

“I didn’t know this, but my girl is from Hawaii, and she wanted to do it when I mentioned you’d been there.”

“They’re beautiful, Hen,” Eddie agrees, peering over Buck’s shoulder. “Why two?”

“I didn’t get you anything when you came back, Eddie,” Hen says with a shrug. “Wasn’t sure it was appropriate.”

“Yeah, kidnapping is a bit awkward,” Eddie agrees, knocking his shoulder lightly into Buck’s. “We’re going to be late.”

“Can’t be late on my first day back,” Buck says, closing the box. “We’ll save these for dessert.”

“I already told Chim he couldn’t steal them,” Hen laughs, “but you might want to hide them in your locker.”

“Oh, I will.” 

They quickly change and stow their bags, exchanging greetings with all the other A and C shift members before climbing up the stairs to the kitchen for handoff. 

Bobby is behind the stove, putting the finishing touches on the breakfast spread. There’s a casserole and an assortment of fruit, and they join the line to grab a plate. Bobby hesitates, spoon midair, when he catches sight of Buck. He visibly straightens and takes a breath to relax before offering Buck a spoonful of eggs, cheese, and ham. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Buck says, accepting the serving and a second spoonful as Bobby studies him. 

“Did they feed you in Hawaii?” Bobby grumbles before making to put a third serving on Buck’s plate.

“They did,” Buck defends Steve. 

“You’re too skinny. Take some fruit, too.”

“Planning on it,” Buck says, stepping to the side so Eddie can get some casserole. It doesn’t escape his notice that the fruit selection has a lot of pineapple.

“I thought you might miss it,” Bobby says, noticing Buck’s eyeing the pineapple.

“Nothing beats the stuff in Hawai’i,” Buck agrees, spearing a stack of slices and adding them to his plate as Eddie distracts Bobby by asking for a second serving of casserole. 

Eddie’s ask effectively derails Bobby, and then Chim is there also demanding some of the casserole, so Buck escapes to the table where Hen has already saved them spots, stopping along the way to exchange greetings with the few firefighters he didn’t see downstairs. 

Digging into his breakfast, Buck attempts to hold back his moan. There are few precious things on earth, like Bobby’s cooking. 

“Good?” Eddie asks drily from his left, knocking their knees together. 

“Yes. I’ve missed Bobby’s cooking.”

“Good to hear,” Hen interjects. “We’ve missed you, Buck.”

“Yeah,”’ Chimney adds, taking his spot next to Hen. “Hasn’t been the same around here without you.”

“And I’m chopped liver?” Eddie grumbles playfully between bites of casserole.

“No offense, Eddie. You were only gone for a few weeks,” Hen says, eyes dancing with amusement. 

“I was kidnapped, not on vacation.”

“Okay, everyone,” Bobby says loudly, stopping the chit-chat. “I’ve got the chore list for today posted. C shift had an uneventful shift, so I’m sure that means we will hit the ground running….” 

Buck listens as Bobby goes on about a few more updates, including a reminder about their yearly check-offs that are coming up next month. The food is good, Eddie is pressed against him from shoulder to foot, and everyone he likes is on shift with him. 

“and last but not least, welcome back Buck.” 

There’s a round of applause and a few catcalls from further down the table. 

Bobby grabs his food and then stops at the only open seat to Buck’s right. “This seat open?”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, aware a lot of eyes are watching him and Bobby interact.

“It’s good to have you back,” Bobby says as he drapes his napkin over his lap.

Buck chews his mouthful, debating how to handle the overtly neutral vibe Bobby is attempting to maintain. It hadn’t escaped his notice that he’s not listed as the man behind—Miller is today—and it would have been very easy for Bobby to sideline him and put him as the man behind. Swallowing, Buck decides to follow Bobby’s lead. “It’s good to be back.”

“You were missed,” Bobby says, echoing Hen, then adding, “I missed you a lot.”

The casserole sticks in Buck’s throat, making his voice hoarse. “I missed you, too. There were a few moments when I asked myself what you would do in my situation.”

“Yeah?” Bobby says lightly, but his face is a mess of contradictions. There’s pride there, as well as sadness and a hint of fear. “What sort of situations.”

“Well, I kinda got bullied into learning how to cook Hawaiian, and I thought you’d find the flavor profile interesting.”

“Bullied?” Hen asks at the same time as Bobby asks, “Cooking? What exactly were you doing in Hawaii?”

“He was rescuing my ass,” Eddie smoothly cuts in, stopping any further questions about what Buck was doing for Steve in Hawai’i, “but I never got to try Kamekona’s food eventhough you talked about it a lot.”

“You didn’t?” Buck says, wrinkling his nose and realizing Eddie is correct. Somehow, he’d failed to introduce Eddie to him. 

“Nope. Although that coffee by the Dole Plantation was a religious experience.”

“Hawaii is known for their coffee,” Hen adds helpfully. “Karen keeps talking about her colleague who has it shipped to their office.”

“Kona is the best coffee you’ll ever have,” Buck agrees. “I did bring some beans back in my luggage. Danny insisted.”

“You brought coffee?” Eddie growls, interested. “You could have told me that yesterday.”

“We were a bit busy yesterday,” Buck says with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“Maybe you could bring a bit of those coffee beans in for all of us to try?” Bobby asks, cutting through the side conversations. Bobby is clutching his cutlery a bit too tight, but he’s making an attempt at a smile that says he’s still feeling a bit brittle around the edges. 

“I will. You’ll like it,” Buck assures Bobby. “I should have brought more pineapple.”

Eddie groans. “That pineapple you had me bring Christopher? He’s been begging for more of it ever since.”

Buck laughs. “I can ask Steve to send us a bunch for his birthday next month. I’ll also bring some in for everyone to try.”

“Sounds like you enjoyed Hawaii,” Bobby says. 

“It wasn’t all bad,” Buck agrees, taking Eddie’s hand. “Could have done without Eddie joining me the way he did.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Eddie reminds him gruffly, sipping at his coffee and then making a face. “You’ve ruined regular coffee for me.”

“Luckily, we have a supply at home,” Buck reassures his partner. 

“Home?” Hen asks, a sly smile on her face. “Something you want to tell us, Buckaroo?”

Buck is a deer-in-headlights. They hadn’t discussed how to announce he was moving in last night as they’d been busy with other things and sleeping. “Uh…”

Eddie saves him. “He’s moving in with me and Christopher, so that we can keep an eye on him.”

“I don’t need to be watched,” Buck grumbles, pretending to take offense. 

“No, you don’t, but we want you there,” Eddie says softly, making his intentions clear to everyone. 

Bobby clears his throat, tone light and appropriate. “Congratulations. I will need you to fill out a change of address form when you’re able or when you have an official date for the change for HR.”

“Thanks, Cap,” Eddie quickly says, smoothing over the tension. 

Any further awkwardness is put on hold as the bell rings. 

“Load up, people,” Bobby orders, and they’re off. When Buck hesitates, unsure, Bobby notices and gestures for him to hurry up. “Come on, Buck. You don’t want to miss your first return call.”

Surprised by Bobby’s easy inclusion, Buck stumbles a bit as he pulls on his turnouts, and he’s the last on the truck as they roll out. The call is a ten-car pile-up on one of the main roads through their call zone. 

“Buck, Eddie, you’re on extraction. Hen, Chim, medical assessment,” Bobby says as he assigns them all their roles, and Buck falls into step with Eddie as if he had never left. They anticipate each other and are quick to pry open cars and allow grateful Angelinos to escape so they can angrily discuss with one another whose fault the crashes are. 

Athena sweeps in like an avenging angel to separate a pair of idiots who were somewhere toward the center of the crash. “Buck, good to see you back,” she calls as she cuffs the bigger of the two idiots who’d taken a swing at the first idiot. 

“Great to be back,” Buck calls back as he happily opens a car door with the jaws. Eddie grunts beside him, and then Buck’s too focused to chit-chat. 

An hour later, they’re sweeping up broken glass as the wreckers haul away the last car. 

“Great job everyone,” Bobby says. “Pack it up. We’re done here.”

“Yes, Cap,” Buck and Eddie say, acknowledging the order and climbing back into their seats. 

Miller cleaned the kitchen in their absence, but Buck’s stomach is growling from all the calories he had just burned cutting apart cars. Bobby must also because he’s squinting at the pantry, wanting to get a start on lunch while everyone works on restocking since they never know when another call will come in. 

“Do you need help?” Buck offers. 

“Sure. Trying to decide what we can make. Need to do a grocery run if we get the time this afternoon.”

There’s a bunch of chicken in the fridge, which solves the question of which protein, but Buck has an idea. “How do you feel about trying something new?”

“New?”

“I got a recipe for huli huli chicken, and we have enough macaroni for macaroni salad. We can use the rice cooker for the rice to make a Hawaiian plate lunch.”

“A plate lunch?”

“It’s this thing they do in Hawai’i. You’ll love it.”

“Let’s give it a try,” Bobby says gamely. “Tell me what to do?”

“Start the rice first since that’ll take almost as long as the chicken.” 

They split up to accomplish their tasks; Bobby quickly washing the rice and getting the rice cooker started before joining Buck, who is making the marinade for the chicken. 

“We’re missing the sherry, which is usually added,” Buck admits, “but this is a bit more work-friendly, so I’m using the chicken stock.”

Bobby hums. “What kind of sherry?”

“Well, according to Kamekona, who taught me how to make this, if you’re a purist, you use rice wine like the original recipe, but most people use sherry. He had this special sherry made by his cousin that he used, and I’ll see if he can send us some so you can try the real stuff.”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah. So, the marinade has pineapple juice, soy sauce, brown sugar, ketchup, ginger, garlic, green onions, and dry mustard. I’m glad you keep us well stocked for spices.”

“Of course,” Bobby agrees, watching Buck mix the ingredients expertly. “You’ve gotten much better with your knife work.”

Buck nods. “Kamekona put me to work as his sous chef for a few days, and I’ve been practicing.”

“I’m glad you kept up with your skills,” Bobby says. “You mentioned macaroni salad?”“Yeah. You want to start the pasta?”

“I’ll do that.”

Bobby sets the biggest pot they have to boil before cutting the chicken to size according to Buck’s instructions. 

“Again, if we had the time, I’d say we should let this marinate overnight, but we’ll have to make do,” Buck says, remembering the patient instructions. 

“Thirty minutes is what we’ve got,” Bobby agrees. “The longer you let it sit, the better the flavor profile.”

“Yeah,” Buck says as he adds the pasta to the boiling water to cook while Bobby cleans up the cutting board as they cook. 

“You did good out there,” Bobby idly comments, washcloth making even strokes across the counter. 

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks,” Buck says, feeling the silence between them becoming awkward. 

“I’m sorry.”

Buck pauses, thinking he’s misheard. “What?”

“I’m sorry I was making things difficult before you left.”

Buck doesn’t know what to say. 

“I’m going to try my best to trust you, Buck, but I need you to let me know if I’m overstepping,” Bobby continues, surprising Buck. 

“It wasn’t overstepping,” Buck argues gently. “I just need you to trust me.”

“That was pointed out to me,” Bobby drily admits, “by multiple people, including my wife and your Special Task Force Commander.”

“Steve talked to you?” Buck asks, thoughts going a million miles a minute.

“Yes. He was adamant that I treat you right, or he’d step in to remind me.”

Buck huffs, both amused and mortified by Steve. “I hope he didn’t threaten you.”

“Oh, it was implied. He was very careful with his wording.”

“Sounds like Steve.”

Bobby pauses, stirring the pasta. “He did have a few salient points.”

“Oh?”

“He said the most important thing for me to do was to trust you like he did, and I’m going to try.”

Buck swallows against the stone lodged in his throat. 

“I’m going to make mistakes, Buck, but I hope you’ll forgive me for making them, and I’ll do the same. The 118 is special; you and Eddie are part of our family here. I don’t want you to feel you have to leave.”

“We’re not leaving. Not unless you make us,” Buck says, blinking back tears.

“I missed you so much,” Bobby confesses. “Worried you weren’t safe, and then Eddie was taken, and we didn’t know what was going on. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“It won’t,” Buck promises. “No more kidnappings.”

“My heart might not take it if it does,” Bobby warns, eyes gone misty, the same as Buck’s. 

“You’re not that old,” Buck argues, grabbing Bobby to pull him in for a hug that is immediately returned, Bobby’s arms wrapping around him tight. 

“I missed you, kid.”

“Me too, Pops,” Buck says, the endearment sneaking out. 

“I’ve lost so many people, including my kids,” Bobby whispers. “I don’t think I’d survive losing you. I know it’s not an excuse, but I need you to be careful when I send you into dangerous situations.”

“I will be. I’ve got too many people who need me.” The confession lifts the remaining burden from Buck’s shoulders. 

“It’s good to have you home,” Bobby finally says, releasing Buck from his hold.

“It’s good to be home,” Buck replies. 

Bobby’s smile lifts Buck’s spirits as the pasta pot boils over, and they’re both busy rescuing their lunch. 

They’re going to be okay, Buck thinks. There will be bumps in the road going forward, but they’ll do it together as a family of choice. 

 

And if you could try to find it too

‘Cause this place has overgrown into waxing mood

Home is wherever we are if there’s love here too

Home is wherever we are if there’s love here too

Home is wherever we are if there’s love here too

 

Song: Home by Jack Johnson

Notes:

Wow. And we’re done with this story for now. There is a planned set of sequels and a Hondo/Deacon side story that is already being written. Please subscribe to the series if you’d like to stay updated.

A few heartfelt thanks to those in my life who this story could not have been completed without. To Harley and Rhi, thank you for being the enablers that you are and for talking me out of/into some of my better/worst ideas.

Thanks to everyone who’s read and commented along the way. Your kind words have kept me writing even when we hit the 100k words mark and I never thought this story would get so big.

Thank you for reading.

Notes:

This work inspired by all the other Navy Seal Buck fics out there—here’s my version of things. Some purposeful vagueness and shenanigans on timelines as I haven’t watched 5-0 in ages and never made it past about season five or so. Not beta read so all errors that remain are mine.

Lyrics are from All at Once by Jack Johnson

Comments and kudos loved.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Hanai