Work Text:
The Only Easy Day
Steve sat in his cell, twisting a length of his sheet around in his hands. He was bored. He understood why he had to be here, but wished someone would believe him. Anyone. He realized now that it was an asinine thing to do, that Danno was right, that he should have waited, that Wo Fat had fucking used him.... He stopped his own train of thought with a good bit of effort. That way lay madness. He knew that. He continued twisting the sheet in his hand until he heard the unmistakeable tramp-tramp of the guards' boots.
“McGarrett.” One of the guards, a rotund white man with a scar along his left cheek, rattled the keys in front of him in one of those gestures that Steve knew was designed to remind the 'prisoner' of his place. He knew, because he'd done the exact same thing several times himself. “Come on. You have a visitor. Some Fed.”
Steve groaned. He'd been interrogated by almost every kind of Federal agent there was, he was sure. Asked about motive, and means and opportunity. The ex-SEAL wished heartily he could remember more of Danno's rants. Maybe he could if he set his mind to it. They unlocked his cell, slapped the cuffs on him, and began another 'walk of shame.'
They walked along the halls, Steve tuning out the catcalls and jeers of the other prisoners and the ribald, strident replies of the guards escorting him. They headed to the same room as always and locked him in. Five minutes later, a burly black man wearing BDU pants and a black t-shirt entered the room from the other side. He looked vaguely familiar. He scanned the man over again, and spotted a little gold pin. Ahhh. Now he recognized him. Didn't know his name, but definitely recognized him.
“Special Agent Sam Hanna, Commander.” Steve nodded and waited for the questions to begin. “Sir,” the other man began, “with all due respect, that was a completely idiotic thing to do. The planning was rushed, the objective sketchy, and you had no support whatsoever. It's possible to work without support, but when you have backup, you use it. You know that. What possessed you to act like such a green ensign?”
Ouch. Steve winced. Nothing like being dressed down by a fellow SEAL. The SEALs were a very tight-knit community, and unless there was chain of command in place, pretty much completely 'without decor'. “Yeah.” That was about all he could say at the moment. He knew fucking well he deserved it.
“And, not only did the governor die, but you tipped your hand. Maybe no one's told you this, but that bastard was the one behind you not getting caught for the foolhardy stunt with the money. Officer Kalakaua was blamed for that, and is now resting comfortably in a facility like this.”
Another wince. Steve had heard rumors, but nobody had confirmed it for him. If Agent Hanna said it, it was true. Brothers didn't lie to each other. Well, except for Nick, his traitorous mind helpfully supplied. He stood as close to parade rest as he could while still being cuffed, and nodded his head, the terse acquiescence clear.
“Detective Kelly is running his ass off, trying to solve cases with the HPD, manage his home, yours, Kalakaua's and Williams' as well.” The Agent, an NCIS agent, if the credentials he was flipping back and forth in his hand were any indication, pulled out the chair, leaned it back and pulled his booted feet up on to the table, not realizing he'd dropped another bombshell. Steve inhaled sharply, drawing Hanna's attention.
“Is Danno okay? Officer Williams. Is he okay?” Steve felt like he couldn't breathe. He had a pretty good idea what would happen to him in a place like this, but it would be doubly, no probably triply worse for Danno. Besides not being able to see his Grace, possibly forever, he'd just recovered from that Sarin, and his knee, and he just couldn't shut up... He couldn't imagine how bad it was for him if he was in jail somewhere. “Is he in jail? Are Rachel and Grace okay?”
Agent Hanna smiled, a small rueful smile that Steve knew well. “Yeah, they're fine. But they're not on the Island anymore. I don't know the details, but they all went back to New Jersey.”
That was almost worse. Steve stared straight ahead, jaw working tensely. He knew how much Danno missed Jersey, and if he was back 'home', then he was pretty much lost to him. He dropped his gaze, examining the concrete while he waited for Hanna to continue.
“Now, I'm just a lowly Chief, Commander, but I suspect you know what I'm gonna say. The shit has hit the fan, sir, but the only easy day...” Hanna began the words they'd both learned to live by
He finished them, almost automatically “... Was yesterday.” He looked up, and frowned. “You look familiar. Did we go through BUDS together or something?”
“Or something. I was a couple classes behind you. You were going out as I was coming in. Or near enough. Now. Let's talk about what we're gonna do to figure this cluster fuck out.”
Steve snorted, and moved to the table, easily pulling the other chair out, seating himself down, and gently pushing Sam's feet off the table. He felt a strong wave of relief at his brother believing him, and the familiar banter of trying to get out of a God-awful, nearly impossible situation.