Chapter Text
The enemy is still too close. The darkness of the night and the black water provide the cover they need. Steve shakes his head to get rid of the fog that cumulates behind his eyes. He tries to struggle free. They can't leave yet. He hears Freddie swearing before his hissed words fill his ear.
"Steve! Fuck, where's the damn blood coming from?" His brother searches frantically for the wound and pats down his shoulders, making him tilt his head to the side. "It's not your neck. Damn it, Steve, you're bleeding like a stuck pig. Stay with me." The urgency of the moment is a silent waver in Freddie's voice.
"Stop making a fucking fuss, man," Steve is bewildered about how difficult it is to make his mouth work. He can't feel any specific pain than the normal level of aches his body has gotten used to. So, what the hell is going on? "We need to go back." He fights against Freddie's strong pull. They're moving away from the big container ship out into the open sea.
"You know we can't. Besides the fact that you must have caught a bullet, they're still fucking shooting at us. We're outnumbered, baby, and you're fucking bleeding really bad. No need to get hit again by a stray one. Come on, work with me here." Freddie whispers in the darkness. He sounds just as worked up as Steve feels.
"I can't just leave her behind, Freddie. I can't!" Steve tries to leave all emotions out of his voice, but he hears himself plea and hates the fear that has snuck into his voice.
"We don't have a fucking choice. I'm so sorry, brother. We'll come back for her but right now, there's nothing we can do. If we won't leave now, they'll shoot us right in the face."
Steve tries to fight the terror that spreads like poison into his bones. "We're never going to find her again if we leave now." Words are getting harder to form and a strange warmth covers the back of his head. He hardly can see shit. Not only because it's so dark but Freddie's face is nothing but a blur.
"Jesus Christ, Steve, keep your damn eyes open," Freddie grinds out, too close, too worried. Their legs entangle with every other kick in the water. Freddie has a death grip on his gear and keeps him right by his side.
Steve blinks. "My damn eyes are open. Nothing to see anyway. It's so fucking dark." He shakes his head but the funny sensation doesn't disappear. He can't recall closing his eyes. His head is so heavy. The cold water clings to his body and the weight of the gear threatens to pull him down. He treads the water to keep his head above the surface but it seems so much more tiring than usual. The sound of the gun volleys of the machine guns penetrates the air and hurts his eardrums. The bullets hit the water with speed. The sea is rough. His mind is with Mary. He can't wipe out the look of horror on her face when she realized they wouldn't make it. Her big brother came to the rescue but failed on the last inches. The shame of not being able to make this mission a success tears through him with agonizing pain. He almost had her, almost felt how he touched her fingertips, ready to pull her off that goddamn death ship and under the protective surface of the sea. The counterattack came out of the blue. He and Freddie had no chance but to escape back into the water if they didn't want to get killed.
"Steve! Stay awake. We're not out of the danger yet. We must dive back, two miles in pitch-black water and a rough current. Don't you fucking pass out on me, brother. I need you to stay awake. We have three hours until the exfil window closes. Do you hear what I'm saying?"
Why does Freddie sound so agitated? "I'm fine, Hart. Don't get your panties in a twist. Let's swim back. Walk in the fucking park, okay?" Sea water fills Steve's mouth and he sputters and swallows the bitter, salty fluid. He gets instantly sick. He throws up and hears Freddie's angry swearing but not out of disgust but worry.
"Steve, man, you okay?"
Steve can't answer. Vertigo follows suit and for a moment, he loses the orientation and slips below the surface. He doesn't even realize he is underwater until he tries to suck in the air. Bad decision.
"Fuck! I knew it!" Freddie growls right into his ear after he yanked him up again. His voice is stained with fear. "I fucking knew it. You're hit in the fucking head. Slurring speech, losing orientation fast, dizziness, and getting sick. Head injury, Steve. Fuck. Where's the fucking bullet wound? Huh? Steve, come on, brother, I could use a little help here." Freddie hauls him up roughly with his fist crammed into the swim vest of his rebreather. "Do you feel your legs?"
The ongoing fire of the machine guns doesn't stop. Those stupid idiots are still trying to kill them.
Freddie is right in his face. But he can't see clearly. He knows he is hit in the head but he doesn't want to give in. He can't. His body is in shock and provides enough adrenalin to suppress any pain. The rage over the lost chance to save his sister from these brutal animals gives him enough power to ignore his weakening strength. "Don't be stupid, Freddie. I'm fine. Just a bit dinged up. Some stray bullet must have hit me. I can't feel the fucker. My head's about to split open though but I had worse, okay? We need to get back on that ship. These animals will destroy her. You know that this is our only chance." Steve swallows the horror of knowing his sister has been kidnapped by the worst human traffickers walking the face of the earth. "Freddie." But his brother pulls him away from the container ship deeper into the darkness.
"This is Havoc. Give me a sitrep." The comms come to life. Their commander Underwood wants a situation report but Steve's hands are too stiff he can't find the push button to respond.
Freddie has a death hold on Steve's vest and kicks his legs hard to gain distance between them and the ship. He lifts his chin and speaks hushed into the comm. "This is Delta two. Delta One is hit."
There's a split second of hesitation. "How bad?"
Steve wants to say he is damn fine but his head drops on Freddie's shoulder.
"Can't make out the wound but he's weak. No eyes on the HVT anymore. We lost it. Repeat, we lost the HVT. Getting ready for exfil. We'll be off the comms during the dive." Freddie pants hard but doesn't let go of Steve for one second.
"Copy. Good luck. Havoc out."
Steve understands the words and the meaning is like an angry fist that squashes his stomach to a pulp. He clenches his jaw to stop the yell of despair from pulling free. "Lemme go, Freddie. I need to get Mary back. Do you fucking hear me?" The bullets still hit the water surface around them. Freddie pulls Steve with him not listening to his ranting.
"You can't go rogue, Steve. You took a fucking bullet to the head." Freddie spits out saltwater before he presses out the next sentence. "You don't use your arms. You don't kick with your legs. Your speech gets all fucked up the longer we're in the water. Somewhere, this thick skull of yours is leaking. We need to get the fuck back, Steve. I'm afraid this time they clipped your brain, Superman."
"I said, I'm fine, Hart. Stop being a fucking baby about my head."
Freddie downright ignores him. "I need you to breathe underwater. I'll drag your sorry ass back if I need to. You know that but I can't breathe for you. And you won't fucking drown on my watch."
"You know what those animals do to women." Steve has a hard time finding the right words. He thinks he said them in the correct order, well-pronounced but Freddie says 'shit' about thirty times trying to hide the shock. And Steve knows he is in deep trouble. He tries again just because he is such a stubborn sonofabitch who never gives up. "Edy, mar is dang can ice cream cold. I . . . "
"Jesus Fuck, Steve. You don't sound okay. We have to go now. Take your mouthpiece and put it in your mouth."
Steve thinks he understands what Freddie says but can't put the words into an order that leads to a specific action. He reaches for Freddie's face instead.
"Fuck, Steve. Hang in there, buddy," Freddie pushes the mouthpiece between his lips. "Don't let that go. Breathe, brother. That's all you need to do. You stay the fuck with me. You don't pass out. We can't surface. Not in these dangerous waters. Stay the fuck alive for Mary and for my sake too, brother. I need you to be strong."
Steve wants to nod but his head only lolls to one side. He wants to give Freddie hell for being too worried. He hates that tone in his brother's voice. But the warmth at the side of his neck feels odd. His legs seem to be gone and he has no idea what to do with his hands or how to get under the surface. Freddie checks his gear but Steve can't follow that part either. He has a very hard time staying awake. He is so sick it hurts. The feeling of vertigo gets worse, but Freddie doesn't waste any time.
"Delta two for Havoc. How copy?"
"Good copy, Delta two. How's Delta one?"
"It's not good. He took a bullet to the head but I can't waste time dressing the wound. Get a Medevac to the exfil point. Going silent. Out."
"Copy, Delta two. Sending Medevac to exfil point. Good luck. Havoc out."
Steve panics when the water closes over his head and the pressure increases. At one point he wants to tear the mouthpiece out but strong hands force him to hold still. He got shaken like a rag doll underwater. He can't make out anything in the pitch-black darkness. The anxiety stays. He is bodiless, weightless, and glides through a space filled with water that never ends. The cold starts to creep into his bones and turn everything into ice. He loses track of time. At one point, he passes out, but pain brings him back online. There are hands in the darkness that won't let go of him. His mind gets blurry around the edges and there is Mary's beloved face with that sweet smile and too many tears on her cheeks. He can't remember why Mary is crying. He gets totally worked up about it and wants to comfort his baby sister. He tries to reach her but something is holding him back. The rage he feels gives him power and he trashes ready to kill everyone in his way who won't let him near his sister. But as hard as he tries, he can't open his damn eyes. And Mary is still so far away.
"Jesus Christ, give him another shot! He must calm down. He has a severe head injury. He needs emergency surgery as soon as we touch town or we're losing him!" The Navy corpsman shouts through the never-ending noise of the turning rotor blades.
The low flapping sound vibrates in Freddie's chest and the downward drift of the rotor blades tears at his drenched uniform. He watches with terror how a lifeless Steve gets loaded onto the stretcher. The blood drips onto the concrete. A bullet hit him right in the back of the head and caused a big, leaking hole. His brain got clipped for sure. Freddie has no idea how they made the two-mile dive but he brought Steve home and now he must let the medical team take care of him.
"Give him the shot! He needs to stay calm! Hey Sir," the corpsman turns to Freddie, shielding his face against the swirling air.
"What?" Freddie hollers back to drown out the enormous noise.
"With what element is he bonding?" The young, serious man points towards Steve. "Is he in control? Just so we know with what we're dealing here." He shouts over to Freddie. "Wouldn't be the fucking first who releases hell on us while being under."
"Air!" Freddie answers and hopes the guys won't be too spooked because they need to know. "He's bonding with air. And no, not in control. Sorry."
"Shit. How bad?"
"Massive sandstorm level bad." Freddie sees their eyes going big but the understanding of the danger that Steve could cause needs time to sink in. It was just one time Steve caused chaos but Freddie still has nightmares about that fucked-up moment of danger.
There is that moment of stunned silence where both medical personnel looks at him wide-eyed. "Are you fucking kidding me? That's rare shit!"
Freddie sighs. "Yeah, don't I know."
"We need to inform the hospital. Where?" One of the guys wants to know.
"Afghanistan. Last year." Freddie yells. "He got hit by a blast wave, got knocked out, and created a sandstorm while out. He didn't know shit when he came to. Was pretty bad."
The brave, young corpsman nods and makes a waving motion with his hand. Ready to load.
The fear makes a grab for Freddie. He yells in Steve's direction. "You don't fucking die on me, brother. Do you hear me? You just hold on." He watches how the medevac helo lifts up and cuts through the air loaded with precious cargo. He watches until he can't hear the rotor blades hitting the air anymore. Steve is getting transported to the Naval Branch Health Clinic near the base.
Freddie dreads facing his brothers when he has to inform them about the mission's failure. But the worst part is that he brought Steve home severely injured, and in a state, where he has become a threat to himself and all others. If they won't be able to get Mary back it could turn really ugly. Freddie draws a shaky breath. What if Steve can't calm down? Not even with the heavy doses of chemicals the corpsmen shot him up with? What if he unleashes his powers, unwanted and uncontrolled while in pain and unconscious? Freddie knows Steve's brain is severely rattled and with the latest bullet hole, he is teetering on a dangerous edge with his health.
Freddie pivots on his heel and storms back to the cubical where TOC operates to receive his next order. They have to get back to the USA without anyone noticing that U.S. Navy SEALs have been operating in the forbidden territory in the China Sea. The aircraft carrier that picked them up is the U.S.S. Independence. He storms into the command center. "We need a Spirit Shifter! The best the Navy's got. Steve's going to tear the hospital apart. I can feel it. It's not looking good." He shouts before the doors are even closed.
The head of the command, their guide behind the comms, Commander Underwood, looks up with deep concern in his eyes. "It's not that easy. The Navy started the program to train Spirit Shifters years ago, but we still don't know all the risks the men take when they allow another soul to take over their bodies. Many still get injured and the emotional fallout is traumatizing."
Freddie is bone-tired. He doesn't have much patience left. He has no understanding whatsoever why the Navy can't pull an excellent, outstanding Spirit Shifter out of the hat. It is the Navy for crying out loud. "Don't tell me there's nobody. The Navy must have someone! You know how Steve gets when he's emotionally dancing on the edge. It's his sister we're talking about. We need someone now!" He explains upset.
"Special Warfare Operator First Class Freddie Hart," Underwood shouts in his direction, stern and commander-like.
"Sir," Freddie snaps his tired limbs together and stands at attention.
Underwood gets close and up in his face. His beard is well-kept, clean and he smells nice. He always smells freshly showered and Freddie asks himself the inappropriate question of how in the hell Underwood does it? To stay so clean all the damn time when all he does was sweat from every hole in his body, stinking to high heaven after this mission. Freddie waits and pulls himself together.
"I know how much you worry about Master Chief McGarrett. He's injured. I get it. He just lost his sister to human traffickers. And now he starts to lose control over his leash on the element. The command knows how McGarrett can turn into a loose cannon once he's losing consciousness. We're aware of the problem and we're handling it, is this understood?"
"Yessir!" Freddie says.
"And we take care of it, but it takes time. Lieutenant Junior Grade Samantha Wellington is on it. At this moment, she makes a list of potential candidates but there are only a handful of Spirit Shifters in the Navy. We have to comb through all the files of the entire Department of Security and Defense dealing with all the Spirit Shifters in the USA. The military doesn't have enough. We might need someone from a different branch."
"What you're talking about? You want the FBI or a CIA guy partnering with Steve? They can't handle him!" Freddy can't hold back his deep concern.
"No, that's not what I meant. I was talking about the branches outside the military. Police Departments all over the country. Firemen and such, guys who are civil heroes and strong enough to take on a SEAL. They'll put Steve in an artificial coma to keep him stable. I've no idea if this works, but we have to try. We still don't know how serious Steve's head injury is. We'll wait for the update."
"How long does this gonna take? Time is of the essence now. We need to find a Spirit Shifter asap. Mary won't last long out there all by herself." Freddie trusts Underwood but he also knows as long as Mary hasn't been rescued Steve won't rest and the danger is looming above all their heads. Steve would even rise from a chemical coma no matter the doses of drugs they would pump into him only to go on a killing spree to free his sister like a deranged God of the old world. Freddie knows when Steve gets into a state of despair beyond relief, he has the same force as an armed bomb. And Freddie can't let that happen. The Navy can't let that happen.
Underwood glares at him. "I can't make any promises. We're on it. The moment we have results and a hit I'll inform you." Underwood still shields him with his body, arms propped up at the side, oozing dominance and the silent, strong leadership Freddie has learned to respect.
"Do you have any news on the Asian gang who grabbed Mary from her home? What do we know about them? How do they connect to Steve?"
Underwood turns and walks back to the wall with the maps and the board of the potential targets. "Wellington has narrowed it down with Agent Thomson. Agent Thomson, fill Freddie Hart in on your new intel."
Freddie watches Helena Thomson, a great CIA agent, and friend assigned to their team with tense anticipation. Finally, a lead! "What do you got, Helena?" He waits and tries not to hold his breath.
"Last year you've been sent on a mission to Shenyang to get the Chinese triad leader of the triad Sun Yee On, Kong Sun Yee On. To terminate him. His brother was at the location too and he escaped but not without getting some names and McGarrett was one of them. We traced some of his international contacts and could filter some chatter where he traded money for information to get to know more about Steve's private life, finding out who's close to him. That's how they found out about Mary. They executed the kidnapping when Steve was deployed."
"Who's monitoring Mary and Steve's house? Is a team stationed in Oahu?" Freddie wants to know.
"Yes, we have an assault team in place. They work together with the local HPD to get the human traffickers of the triad Sun Yee On who are operating from Hawaii. As it seems the local police department has many open cases of kidnapped girls from illegal immigrants. Those people won't involve the police when a daughter goes missing and so far, the extreme group Sun Yee On could operate almost undisturbed in Hawaii. But we're about to break into one of their stock houses as they call the places where they hide the girls." Helena points at a screen where the live feed of an overwatch drone is shown.
"That's fucking great," Freddie feels the enormous strain of the mission crushing in. He's hungry and he starts to be cold. He needs to get out of his dirty and damp clothes. But he needs to see how the assault team takes the tangos out and snatches at least one important head of the snake. He needs some proof that they get closer to Mary.
Underwood turns around after the mission on the screen ends with success. All but one tango got killed. The younger brother of Kong Sun Yee will be brought in for questioning. He knows who gave up Steve's name and made it possible for Mary to be kidnapped right out of her home.
"Will you be the one interrogating this guy?" Freddie points at the screen.
"Yes," that's the only world Helena is willing to share. But Freddie knows she is the best at this. She will get answers that will lead to Mary. He just has to wait. "Are you also the one checking the qualities of the Spirit Shifter?" Freddie wants to know but Helena only eyes him with intent and turns around to get to work. If she is assigned to this task Freddie knows she will deliver. She is one of the best and besides, Steve is like a brother to her. He is family. Helena will do everything in her power to help him.
Underwood looks at him. "Get changed, Hart, and get ready. You'll be transported back with Agent Thomson and Wellington to Coronado. Wheels up in two hours. You'll be updated the moment we get more intel. Make sure Steve doesn't destroy his room or parts of the hospital. He needs to keep it together. I know that he listens to you. Don't let him lose his temper." The commander orders.
"Yes, Sir. What's with Mary?" Freddie can't hold back.
"We're working on that too. Agent Thomson has contacts. We do our best to get her back." Underwood looks determined. Freddie knows that Delta team is Mary's best and only chance.
"The time window closes fast for Mary. They're going to destroy her, scar her for life." Freddie can't say the words, it is too terrifying.
"No, they won't," Helena says with such confidence from where she's standing and Freddie is more than ready to believe her.
"How can you be so sure?" He can't come up with a single reason why those animals shouldn't rape her until she loses consciousness. That is how they break in new girls.
"Because I know how they operate. Mary's a trophy. She's the sister of one of the U.S. Navy SEALs who killed one of their leaders last year. She's valuable. She's meant as a present for one of the triad's oldest. Maybe even the head of the Sun Yee On organization. She's blond, she has a fair complexion and a fragile, petite body. She's precious. No one will touch her. If they break Mary's skin and she bleeds building bruises the men will get killed, brutally so. They need to deliver her unharmed like a precious live doll. What happens when she's handed over I can't say. She won't even make it for two more days once the triad's oldest has her. Torture, rape, abuse and then they kill her gruesomely in front of a camera sold to the highest bidder. But until then we have about a week. Let's get to work." Helena always explains everything briefly and to the point without any emotion attached. Freddie shares Helena's confidence. It is not over until it is over.
One week should be more than enough to scramble a mission package together that will be approved by the brass. Freddie can't wait to tell Steve about the progress. He hopes this will calm him enough until Wellington has found him a Spirit Shifter strong enough to deal with Steve and the state he is in.
Two Days Later
Through the big glass window at the hospital, Freddie watches his brother and hates to see Steve lying in the big bed with the cover pulled up to his chest. He looks vulnerable. It doesn't feel right. Steve can't stop fidgeting. He seems nervous and balls his hands into fists and opens them again. His head is dressed in bandages and he looks weak. His eyes are closed. They put him in an artificial coma but they can't get him to calm down completely. And that is worrisome on so many levels. They said that the element air is too vital already. The process is too advanced and the bonding has already happened but unfortunately, it is uncontrolled. They only can provide damage limitation at this point. They can't drug him up to his eyeballs because of his injury. The brain scans showed an alarming state of Steve's brain, too. It's not looking good. And Freddie feels so guilty. He was the one who should have watched his brother's six.
Next to him, the boys shuffle around in front of the big window of the ICU of the Naval Branch Health Center.
"You sure they put him in a fucking coma?" Tom asks for the third time. "He's not looking good. He seems awake. I don't like it. What the hell is he doing with his hands?"
Freddie tries to calm his friend. "It's Steve, okay? He caught a damn bullet with his head. It splintered the skull at the back. He's fucking lucky to be alive. He's concussed but they say the bullet didn't injure the brain. He should be fine." Freddie doesn't mention the brain scans. Not now. "The impact of the shot rattled his brain. And you know how Steve hates to be out of control."
"And he hates to be on drugs and under." Tom glares at Steve and looks as if he wanted to break the window with his fist.
Freddie can't say anything to make the guys feel better. "They use meds strong enough to take out a herd of elephants and he's still twitching like a scary mummy." He adds with a dark voice. He has a hard time watching Steve so helpless and in pain.
"It's not your fault he's lying in that bed, Freddie, okay? Stop feeling guilty." Jake murmurs in an unfamiliar gentle voice.
Freddie is grateful for his concern. "Fuck, Jake, you should have seen him fight. He would have gone back and would have tried to take out every guy single-handedly with this gaping hole in his fucking head. He's so fucking crazy like that."
"Well, fuck. It's Steve. He's the embodiment of crazy. It's his baby sister. We'd all act the same. I'd go ballistic and burn down the fucking world to get my sister back." Jake explains with a pressed tone.
Freddie sighs and keeps watching Steve. He can't do shit about it. The downtime is always the worst. He hates to wait. But he is forced to wait until that Spirit Shifter arrives which Helena and Wellington chose from the Honolulu Police Department. The guy is on the way. At least, some progress. It's been two days since they are back at the home base in Va Beach and Steve can barely hold it together.
"Guys, he's doing it again. Shit. Freddie!" Jake shouts and shoves Freddie in the direction of the door. "Make him undo it, Hart! You're the only one he listens to."
"Goddammit, Steve!" Freddie hisses and waits for the right moment to open the door. He can't get hit by a book or a pair of scissors or a damn chair.
Everything that isn't fixed on the floor flies around in the room and bangs against walls and the cupboard and the big glass window. The nurses scream in shock and try to find cover. The gushes of strong wind erupt so quickly that no one has it seen coming. Freddie opens the door to let the medical personnel out. "Out, out, come on." He makes sure they are safe until he mounts his helmet and goes in with a fiberglass shield. "Steve, dude, come on, calm down, brother."
Jake and Tom wait outside and keep watch.
"What's the name of the Spirit Shifter again they are flying in from Hawaii?" Tom asks with his eyes glued to Freddie and the way he approaches Steve.
"Danny Williams. He's a high-ranked Detective at HPD. I don't know more. But he was the only match. I have no idea if he can deal with a Steve McGarrett and the fierce power he's hardly holding at bay." Jake answers methodically.
"Shit, a civi. He won't be strong enough." Tom expresses with deep worry.
"Wellington says he might surprise us all. He seems to be kind of a genius." Jake kicks the wall, too unnerved about the chaos Freddie tries to fight in Steve's room. "Shit, Steve, try to relax, brother." He murmurs.
"He might surprise us all?" Tom snorts. "Whatever the fuck that means. We'll see soon enough. He better be good. This element bonding shit is fucking unstable. Look at that mess." Tom balls his hands into fists. They are elite soldiers but unable to fight the invisible opponent that is nothing but air. He hates to be so useless. "This Williams dude better be fucking good. We need to get Steve covered. Need to have his six again. We need to get Mary back."
Tom and Jake watch how Freddie coaxes Steve into a non-threatening stage. When the wind dies down again Freddie collapses exhausted in one of the chairs in the room. The helmet falls to the floor with a clatter. They all look worn-down. The last two days have been too damn long. They could use some help.