Family business | By : mermaidnz Category: G through L > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Views: 4023 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Warnings: serious angst. Discussion of institutional homophobia.
Word count: 4,000 words for this chapter; 30,000 words so far.
***
CHAPTER SEVEN
The McGarrett place is a big old house right on Oahu's southeastern coast. It must be worth a fortune, these days, which helps explain why Steve was so concerned about Danny wanting Jack's money.
When Steve meets him at the front door, Danny asks, "So is this where Jack and Winston grew up?"
Steve nods. "And once they'd both left to join the Navy, Grandma lived here alone for the rest of her life. But my parents brought me and Mary over to visit with her all the time, and she was the only babysitter I can ever remember having."
It's hard for Danny to imagine being that close with a grandparent. He's never met Ma's parents, and only rarely saw Pop's family when they came down from Boston.
"What was she like?" he asks.
"Grandma was a fantastic old lady...she had so much strength and energy, but she was a lot of fun, too." Steve leads Danny into the living room, and gestures out the window at the ocean. "She'd go swimming every day, rain or shine; she was the one who taught me to swim, actually."
Danny smiles as he pictures a gray-haired woman splashing around with her small grandson. Maybe he'd have salt water in his veins, too, if he had grown up swimming at a private tropical beach.
Steve has obviously been hard at work sorting out Jack's stuff, as the coffee table is piled with papers and folders. The two of them sit on the couch and Steve hands Danny an old leather-bound Bible. Inside, he finds a handwritten chronicle of McGarrett births, marriages, and deaths dating back to the 1800s.
What Steve had originally recalled about Winston is confirmed: he is the only brother listed for Jack, and there's no mention of him marrying or having children. Danny's heart clenches a little when he notices that the same person had recorded the deaths of both Steven and Winston – presumably Grandma, who lived on without her husband and eldest son until 1989.
The date of Jack's murder has been added recently, the blue ink bright and fresh against all the faded inscriptions. Danny bites his lip, imagining Steve sitting alone in the house where his father was killed and performing one last rite to honor him.
When Danny carefully lays the Bible down, Steve offers him an envelope. "Like I said, I've found a bunch of letters from Uncle Winston to Dad. So far, this is the only one postmarked after he would have met your mother. I didn't open it, though."
Danny takes it, and reads the enclosed letter aloud.
"February 6, 1976.
Dear Jack,
We docked at Newport yesterday, for three days' R&R. As soon we were allowed ashore, a buddy and I hitched a ride up to Boston – I was really keen to see Maria, the girl I met there last summer, and he has family in the area.
I made it out to Maria's house and asked to see her, but her mother just yelled at me a lot (in Italian, I think) and then slammed the door in my face.
So I went back to the waterfront bar where we met. The owner said she quit just before Christmas, and left town. And then one of the other waitresses, Peggy, told me Maria got pregnant to some sailor during Fleet Week. She couldn't handle all the hassling from her super-strict Catholic family, so she decided to move away with her friend Frank. But Peggy didn't know where they'd gone, and hadn't heard anything since.
Jack, I think Maria's baby might be mine. I used a rubber with her, but I guess accidents can happen. And that'd explain why Mrs. Vitale got so mad at me when I introduced myself yesterday.
My buddy suggested I try checking the records at City Hall, in case Maria and that Frank guy got married before they left Boston. But there was nothing there. So I have no idea where she is and no way of finding her, and my ship sails tomorrow morning.
I'm going out of my mind here, Jack! I like this girl so much – she's sweet and funny and smart, and so damn pretty – and I really think we could've had something together. Now she's gone, and maybe my son or daughter will be raised by some other man.
My time is up in a month, and I was planning to come ashore at Boston. If things with Maria worked out, I thought I might bring her home to Hawaii. But now I think I'll sign up for another tour, so you won't be seeing me for a while yet. I'll write Mom soon, to let her know; please don't tell her anything about Maria.
Anyway, give my love to Evelyn, and congratulations on your happy news – I'm looking forward to being an uncle. If you two are having a boy, will you name him after Dad? Whatever you do, just don't repeat his mistake and borrow the current British Prime Minister's name. Harold would be almost as bad as Winston!
Love,
Your brother."
The scrawled words are blurring before his eyes by the time Danny finishes reading. It's just so damn sad – and surprising, too. Ever since Ma told him about the handsome sailor who never came back, Danny has assumed the worst of his biological father. But Winston had in fact returned for Ma, and really did mean all those romantic things he'd said.
Danny doesn't truly wish that things had turned out differently, because he wouldn't trade Pop, his brother and sisters, and of course Grace for the world. Still, he wonders about Ma: will it help her to know that her Lieutenant McGarrett had genuine good intentions, or will she be overwhelmed by regrets? Danny's always been honest with his mother, though...hell, she was the first person he ever came out to. And he can't keep this truth from her.
Steve looks over at Danny, his expression pensive. "I guess he wasn't so bad, after all."
"Guess not." Danny swallows hard and wipes at his eyes. "So he died about a year after he wrote this. Do you know how it happened?"
"Dad and Grandma never talked about it, but Mom once told me that Winston was on shore leave in Rhode Island. He was driving back towards Newport, late at night. I guess the roads were icy, because he swerved into a tree and died on impact."
Danny sighs. "God, what a waste."
"And then Mom was killed in a car accident too, in '92. You know, I never put it together before now," Steve adds slowly, "but having lost his brother in a similar way must have made her death even harder for Dad to bear. He pretty much had a breakdown, after that, and decided to send me and Mary away to the mainland. It was for our own protection, he said, but I never did work out how...car crashes can happen anywhere, you know?"
When Danny had originally read Jack's obituary and seen that his wife was already dead, he'd felt a moment of selfish relief. He would have dreaded showing up on an elderly widow's doorstep, and announcing he was her late husband's illegitimate son.
Now, in the face of Steve's lingering grief, he instead feels a pang of loss for an aunt he never knew. It's a measure of how much things have changed for Danny in just two weeks.
"Hey, listen," Danny murmurs, "let's drink to our dead and then get started on dinner, huh? I had a sandwich up at Ehukai Beach, but that was six hours ago."
That snaps Steve out of his dark mood, like Danny had hoped. As they head to the kitchen, Steve asks, "You mean you went surfing?"
"No, I did not, because I am not certifiable. We were just there as spectators. But apparently some of the local insanity is rubbing off on my daughter, because now she wants surfing lessons."
With a smile, Steve touches his beer bottle to Danny's. "Good for her. I first got on a board when I was about Grace's age."
"Don't tell me Grandma taught you to surf, too."
Steve chuckles. It's the first time Danny has heard him laugh, and he already wants to make it happen again.
"No. It was Mamo, a waterman from our old neighborhood – he still has a board rental stand at Waikiki Beach. When Dad sent me to live with Mom's brother in Virginia, I really missed surfing. But I also missed sitting on the sand, watching Mamo and the other old-timers out on the waves...they made it look so effortless."
"See, maybe that's your idea of fun, but back home I could go to actual stadiums and watch actual sports with my daughter," Danny complains. "She was already becoming a great little Yankees fan, and we even went to see the Jets play a few times. But there is a depressing lack of pro baseball on this island, and football too."
"The University of Hawaii's football team is pretty good, though," Steve argues. "And there's intense competition between the local high schools. You and Grace could come to a game with us sometime, so long as you cheer for my old team: the Kukui Kings."
"Yeah, that might be fun." Danny imagines a younger Steve in uniform, with those skin-tight pants, and chugs down his beer. Whether or not he comes clean with Steve, drinking will definitely help Danny get through the rest of the night.
***
Steve grills out on the patio, and Danny assembles the salad Steve insists on serving with their steaks. They keep talking about sports for a while: Steve's glory days as Kukui's quarterback, and Danny's once-promising baseball career.
"Coach thought I was good enough to get an athletic scholarship, but I tore my ACL in senior year and that was pretty much it." Danny shrugs. "And anyway, I never had the greatest grades. My brother Matt was always the smart one – he got a full ride to Columbia. Me, I just wanted to be a cop."
"I did too, when I was a little kid," Steve says, "but Dad wasn't keen on me following in his footsteps. So I went with the other McGarrett family tradition, and joined the Navy."
Danny wants to know if Steve ever considered forging a new path for himself. Instead, he asks, "Think Grandma would've been pleased about that?"
"She wouldn't have been too surprised, that's for sure." Steve nods towards the water. "But when she was teaching me to swim, she'd never have imagined how I ended up using those skills. I've parachuted into the ocean at night, and then swum for miles to land in hostile territory; I've crossed maritime borders underwater to avoid detection. And it all started for me right here, on this beach."
This isn't anything Danny couldn't have learned from one of the many Navy SEAL fan sites he's found online. Still, it's different to hear Steve say it. It amazes Danny to contemplate all the things Steve has done, all the things he's capable of, and it puts his recklessness during the Howard case into perspective. But a gun wielded by a professional bank robber from Philly can kill just as effectively as one in the hands of a fanatical terrorist from Kabul.
Steve gets them each another beer, and leads the way to a couple of weatherworn wooden chairs down on the beach. They eat in silence for a while as the sun sets over the mountains behind them, turning the wispy clouds pink-gold. And maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the almost hypnotic motion of the waves, but Danny decides to push a little.
Setting his empty plate down on the sand, he says, "You know, I'm glad you've warmed up to me. You really were kind of a jerk, to start with."
Danny's expecting an argument, but Steve merely slumps down in his chair and sighs.
"Yeah, I know." He twists around to meet Danny's gaze. "It's just...I've got a lot of regrets about Dad. I loved him, but I had real trouble connecting with him as an adult."
"How come? It seems like you two had a lot in common. Maybe not the SEAL stuff, so much, but Naval Intelligence sounds like detective work that just involves a lot more travel."
"My missions were all classified, though, and Dad didn't want to discuss his work," Steve explains. "And after he retired from HPD, he got all paranoid and secretive; visiting him started to feel more like a chore than a vacation. When he was killed, I hadn't been home in years and we hadn't even talked in months. And it's my fault he's dead. So when you showed up claiming to be his son, it was pretty much the last thing I needed."
Shocked, Danny holds up one hand and says, "Whoa, whoa, back it up. How could it possibly be your fault, Steve? You weren't even on the island when Jack died, were you?"
"Jesus, Danny, I thought you knew this stuff already." Steve frowns. "Didn't you read the HPD file?"
"Yeah, but it just says that he was shot in a home invasion, and that the Governor's taskforce took over the case. That's why I originally came to the Iolani Palace last Monday, to find out what the hell happened to him."
Steve stands up, then, and walks to the water's edge. With his back to Danny, he tells a story about two arms dealers called Hesse, a long chase stretching around the globe, a phone call from Hawaii to South Korea, and a gunshot.
"Sounds like you did exactly what you had to do – exactly what you should have done," Danny says, when Steve's quiet words finally peter out. His heart is breaking for Steve, and the burden of guilt he's been carrying around for weeks. So he chooses his words with care.
"You couldn't have known what capturing Anton Hesse would mean to you personally, but you couldn't have let such a dangerous guy go free either. Your father's blood is on the Hesse brothers' hands, not yours, and you killed them both. You avenged him, and now you're carrying on his work of keeping this island safe. I'm sure Jack would be real proud of you, Steve."
When Steve turns to face him, silent but with an expression that speaks volumes, Danny gets to his feet and approaches him. "Here, let me introduce you to a Williams family tradition," he says.
Carefully, giving him time to move away, Danny lays his hands on Steve's biceps. Steve makes a choked-off sound and sways toward him a little; emboldened, Danny wraps his arms around Steve and holds on tight.
Steve's posture is rigid, to start with, but he eventually relaxes into the embrace. Danny ignores the part of his brain that notes how good it feels to have Steve in his arms. This is about comfort, and nothing else.
But his body has other ideas, and to his horror Danny starts to get hard. They're standing so close together, there's no way Steve doesn't feel Danny's cock pressing against his leg.
Abruptly, Danny lets go of Steve and takes a step back, not meeting his eyes. "Sorry, I...Jesus, I'm so sorry."
He turns to leave, mortified. But behind him, Steve says, "Wait."
***
Danny freezes and slowly turns back, bracing for a punch, hoping against hope for a kiss. Instead, Steve spreads his hands and says, "Can we talk about this?"
There's something weirdly funny about Steve – man of action and few words – wanting to talk, but Danny's simply grateful that Steve's willing to speak to him after what just happened.
They sit back down, and Danny decides to rip the metaphorical band-aid straight off.
"I'm sorry," he says again, "I didn't mean for you to find out like that. But...the truth is, I've wanted you since the moment I first saw you."
"Even when you thought we were half-brothers?"
Steve sounds curious, not disgusted, so Danny looks down at his hands and says, "Yes, even then. I'm surprised my palms and mouth weren't perpetually bloodied, the number of times I dug my nails in or bit my lip to try and stop thinking about you. I gotta admit, I was pretty relieved when Max gave us the news."
"Me too," Steve says, "but mostly for different reasons."
Danny's breath catches at that telling choice of words. "Mostly, not entirely?" he asks, and it's Steve's turn to look away.
"So it wasn't just me," Danny says slowly. "When we met, you felt it too."
He gets no response, but he keeps his nerve and keeps going.
"Because here's how it was for me: I walked into that room, and thought you were just about the hottest person I ever saw. I've never had such a strong reaction to a guy before, and it's been two decades since I figured out I was queer. Then, when you told me you were Jack's son, I felt sick to my stomach but I still found you incredibly attractive anyway. And it's only gotten stronger, this whole week. Is any of this sounding familiar to you?"
Steve's staring at Danny now, mouth open. For a moment, Danny fears that he's read this all wrong. Then Steve exhales, and it's like his body deflates. "Yes."
"Well, okay then," Danny says. "At least we're in this mess together."
But his momentary flare of hope dies away as Steve shakes his head.
"It's probably not real, though," he argues. "I did some research, and there's apparently a thing called 'Genetic Sexual Attraction'. When close relatives meet for the first time as adults, there can be this immediate and intense kind of bond...between cousins, or siblings, or even parents and their grown-up children."
Shuddering involuntarily, Danny says, "Okay, that's disturbing, but this sure as fuck feels real to me. Are you saying you wouldn't have been interested in me, if we were just two random guys?"
"Yeah, because I'm not gay," Steve insists.
Danny raises his eyebrows at him. "Uh huh. So, what – you were 100 per cent straight, Monday morning, and then I walked in and turned your head?"
"No," Steve admits after a long moment, rubbing at his jaw line in a way Danny's starting to recognize as his tell. "I do look at men, okay, but that's all. Apart from a little fooling around with a teammate back in high school, I've only ever been with women. You gotta understand, Danny: the Navy has been my entire life since I was 18 years old, and 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' has always been hanging over my head."
"I thought that rule was meant to allow queer folks to serve, if they stayed on the down low," Danny says.
"Yeah, but the consequences of getting caught are serious. Thousands of sailors and soldiers have been kicked out, including some close friends of mine. I couldn't risk losing everything just to fuck men, you know? So I just...didn't. And I still can't, even now, no matter how much I want to."
Danny's heart sinks, but he keeps his voice steady. "Okay, so, just to be clear: are you saying no because I'm a guy, or because we're related?"
"It's both." Steve spreads his hands. "The cousin thing doesn't bother me so much. I grew up here, and I know Chin and Kono have made it work. But I just can't help thinking about Dad. He was an old-fashioned kind of man, and he would've reacted badly if I'd ever come out to him. I'm pretty sure the prospect of me and his brother's son together would make him roll over in his grave –"
"– and you already feel way too guilty for putting him there," Danny concludes, and Steve bows his head in response. "Well, I'd say you should let go of what your father might have thought, and start living for yourself. I'd also point out that you're effectively a civilian, these days, and not under such close scrutiny from the military brass anymore."
But Steve looks at him with a deeply unhappy expression and says, "I'm sorry, Danny, I just can't."
Danny sighs, sitting back and stretching his legs out. "Yeah, okay. It was always gonna be a long shot, but I had to know."
"You mean you were already planning to tell me how you felt?"
"I was, yeah; Ma always says I'll never die wondering. And knowing for sure that it's hopeless means I can try to accept that and move on."
"I do want us to be friends in the long run," Steve offers, "if you think you can handle that."
Danny can't help rolling his eyes. "Not to prick your ego bubble or anything, but I survived my wife of seven years kicking me out. You, I have known for seven days. I'll be fine, Steve; I might just keep my distance for a while. After that, I'm sure we'll be able to hang out without me jumping your bones. I've had my share of crushes on unavailable guys, believe me."
Luckily, Steve doesn't seem to take offence. "Yeah, me too. It's been useful for honing my self-control, if nothing else."
Shaking his head, Danny asks, "But has it really been worth it? You've had to repress an important part of yourself, all these years. And a lot of the people you risked your life to defend, they happen to think us queers are going to hell, you know?"
"I'm proud of the work I've done," Steve says simply. "I've helped protect all Americans: gay, straight, bigoted, whatever. And I swore to obey all the Navy's rules when I signed up, not just the ones I agreed with."
"I guess I can understand that," Danny says. "I feel kind of the same way about police ethics. It's not a menu you can pick and choose from...unless the Governor of Hawaii grants you full immunity and means, of course."
Steve laughs, easing the tension a little. "Don't worry. Meka and Chin are teaching me how far I can go without getting our cases thrown out of court."
"Good – I think you're doing important work, and it'd be a shame to let all that go to waste. I've heard ADAs scream at detectives for some procedural fuck-up that ruined their whole prosecution. Trust me, it was not a pretty sight."
"Thanks for the warning," Steve says, and holds out his bottle to clink against Danny's. But the beer is warm and flat, now, and Danny should be sober enough to drive.
So he says, "Listen, it's late. I better get going."
Once Steve has walked him out to the car, Danny rubs at the nape of his neck awkwardly. "Well, thanks for dinner and all the family history stuff today. And, uh, thanks for not being a homophobic jerk."
"I'm glad you were honest, even if I can't give you what you want." Steve gives a similarly awkward little shrug. "I guess I'll see you around."
"Yeah," Danny says softly, "I guess so."
"'Night, Danny," Steve says, and heads back into the house.
Danny really hates the idea of Steve living here alone, with only the ghosts of McGarretts past for company. And that vehement thought makes him lean heavily against the driver's door and close his eyes, because he has to step back from this level of concern about Steve's wellbeing. But where does Danny's justifiable worry for a cousin and possible friend stop, and where does his futile romantic attraction begin?
***
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