Chapter Text
I'm dancing with my demons
I'm hanging off the edge
Storm clouds gather beneath me
Waves break above my head
Headfirst hallucination
I wanna fall wide awake now
You tell me it's alright
Tell me I'm forgiven, tonight
But nobody can save me now
I'm holding up a light
I'm chasing out the darkness inside
'Cause nobody can save me
– Chester Bennington (Nobody Can Save Me, Linkin Park)
It couldn't rain any harder.
But to Steve, it didn't matter. The heavy raindrops lashed his face, soaking through his clothes and pooling in his boots. The distant rumble of thunder barely registered, the long flash of lightning illuminating the restless ocean before him only for a moment before the darkness reclaimed it.
Everything felt distant. The storm, the world, himself—it was all the same. The same unyielding weight that had been pressing on his chest for days, weeks, maybe even years. Nothing had ever felt so heavy before, but nothing had ever felt this numb either.
The rain was a convenient cover for the tears he couldn't afford to let fall. Not here, not now. Not when everyone expected him to keep it together. To… keep going.
Steve McGarrett, once a Navy SEAL, once a protector, now stood in the middle of it all—lost, broken, waiting for something that would never come.
He stood at the water's edge, waves crashing against his ankles, pulling at the sand beneath his feet as if urging him to let go. Let go of what? He didn't know anymore. The fight? The guilt? The weight of everything? It was hard to tell the difference these days.
The ocean, wild and merciless, stretched endlessly before him. The horizon blurred in the storm, a gray haze that swallowed everything. Steve stared at it, unblinking, as if searching for answers he wasn't sure he wanted to find.
In his hand, he held his father's old service revolver, the weight of it heavy and cold against his palm. It had been sitting in a drawer for years, a piece of his past he'd never had the heart to get rid of. Tonight, it had felt like the only thing that made sense.
His chest ached with an emptiness he couldn't describe. Years of service to his country, years of helping anyone but himself, years of loss, and it all felt like it had been leading to this moment—this crushing weight he could no longer ignore.
"I'm fine," he'd told his team earlier that day. He'd been saying it for weeks, months, years, really. But the words had lost their meaning, even to him.
He wasn't fine. Hadn't been for a long time.
Every scar on his body, every name etched into his memory, every ghost that haunted his dreams—they were all part of the same unrelenting tide pulling him under.
The storm intensified, and in the back of his mind, a thought flickered—Danny. But it was quickly drowned out by the storm, by the weight pressing down on him. Danny would tell him to keep going, to fight through it. But Steve couldn't. He couldn't fight anymore.
He had lost too much. Failed one time too many.
The Navy. The Five-0. People he had cared about, people who had died on his watch. People who had died because of him. Freddie. Joe. His dad. His mom. Friends. Family. He´d failed them all. No wonder even the love of his life had chosen her career over life with him.
Steve swallowed, the bitter taste of regret choking him, but there was no point in running from it. Not anymore.
It's all too much.
Each crash of the surf seemed to echo the chaos in his head, the unrelenting weight of his memories dragging him under. He clenched his fists, the rain running down his face like rivers. He wanted to scream, to break something, to fight back against a life that seemed determined to destroy him. But instead, he raised the gun, his hand trembling as he pointed it toward himself, his thumb hovering over the hammer.
The sound of footsteps on wet sand pulled him out of his spiral. He froze, his breath hitching, the gun still in his hand. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"You're predictable, you know that?" Danny's voice was softer than usual, the usual bite tempered with something that sounded almost like worry. "I knew I´d find you here."
Steve lowered the gun but didn't let go of it, his shoulders tense. He kept his eyes on the horizon, on the endless, churning waves that mirrored the chaos inside him.
"Steve?"
Danny's steps quickened, and before Steve could react, his partner was standing in front of him, blocking his view of the ocean. Danny's eyes darted to the gun, his face paling as he pieced the scene together, but he didn't say anything about it right away. Instead, he reached out and gently placed a hand on Steve's wrist, easing the weapon out of his grip. Steve didn't resist.
"What the hell, Steve?" Danny's voice cracked, his usual sarcasm replaced with raw emotion. "What are you doing?"
Danny's hurt expression hit Steve like a punch to the gut. He looked down, ashamed and exposed. "I wasn't," he admitted quietly. "I just… I couldn't."
Danny let out a shaky breath, tossing the gun into the sand and pulling Steve into a tight, desperate hug. "You listen to me, you stubborn idiot. You don't get to do this. You don't get to check out on me, on us, on your team, your ohana. We need you. I need you."
Steve stood stiffly at first, the weight of Danny's words pressing against the wall he'd built around himself. Slowly, he let himself lean into the embrace, the storm inside him quieting just enough to let Danny's presence seep in.
"I'm sorry," Steve whispered, his voice barely audible over the rain. "I didn't know how else to stop it."
Danny pulled back, gripping Steve's shoulders tightly, his blue eyes boring into Steve's with an intensity that was both comforting and terrifying. He didn´t ask what Steve was talking about. Didn´t push him to explain himself. But he would know anyway. If there was anyone who knew Steve better than himself, it was his best friend.
"I just…I just want the pain to stop, Danny." Steve´s voice broke with the admission. "But I don´t know how."
"Then you let me help you. You hear me? You don't ever let it get this far again. You call me, you yell at me, you break something if you have to, but you don't do this."
Steve didn't respond. He couldn't. He just stared at Danny, his own eyes hollow and tired.
"Sorry," Steve whispered again.
"Fuck," Danny's voice broke, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide the tears mixing with the rain. "What were you thinking? Do you have any idea what you almost…" He trailed off, choking on his words.
"Danny…" Steve's voice was barely a whisper.
"No, don't you 'Danny' me!" Danny's voice rose, thick with emotion. "Do you have any idea what it would've done to me? To—to Grace, to Charlie, to me? You don't get to do that, Steve. You don't get to make that call."
Steve's face crumpled, and he lowered his head, his shoulders shaking. He didn't cry—there were no tears left.
"Talk to me," Danny pleaded, his voice softer now. "Please, babe. Just tell me what's going on. Tell me why you thought this was the answer."
Steve shook his head. "It doesn´t matter," he whispered. "Just… go home, Danny."
"Not a chance." Danny crossed his arms, standing firm despite the rain. "Not leaving you out here all alone to brood like some tragic movie hero."
Steve exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and resignation. "I'm fine," he said automatically, knowing it was a lie.
"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England," Danny shot back. "How can you say you are fine after what you´ve just almost done?"
Steve didn´t reply. He couldn´t find the right words.
"Come on, Steve. You think I haven't noticed something was wrong with you?" Danny said. "You're not eating, you're not sleeping, and you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. It's not sustainable, and it's sure as hell not healthy."
Steve's shoulders sagged under the weight of Danny's words. He'd spent so long pretending, so long trying to hold it all together, that he'd forgotten what it felt like to let someone in.
"You don't get it," he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the rain.
"Then enlighten me. I want to help you, buddy."
Steve shook his head. "Nobody can save me now. Not even you."
Danny's expression softened, the frustration giving way to something deeper. "Maybe not," he admitted. "But you can still save yourself, Steve. I know you can."
Steve wished he was as certain as Danny. The truth was, he´d long lost the trust he used to have in himself.
"Maybe the only person that can save you is you," Danny said. "But that doesn't mean you have to go through it alone. You've got people who care about you, Steve. Let us help."
Steve closed his eyes, the words hitting him harder than he'd expected. He'd always been the one to save others, to put himself on the line. The idea of letting someone else shoulder even a fraction of his burden felt foreign, almost impossible.
Danny nodded, his hands still gripping Steve's shoulders. "I know it's too much. But you don't have to do it alone, you hear me? You don't have to carry all this by yourself. I'm here, okay? I'm right here."
Steve met Danny's eyes, the storm reflected in his gaze. For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them, the waves crashing at their feet. Then Steve nodded, just barely, and Danny let out a relieved breath.
"Come on," Danny said, his voice still shaking. "Let's get out of here. We'll figure this out, okay? Together. But first, we're getting the hell out of this storm."
*to be continued*