Title: Inseparable

Summary: It's not enough to just cope with their situations anymore.

Disclaimer: Hawaii Five-0 is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.

Spoilers (Please Read!): The second season premiere (about 10 seconds worth) and for the first season. Major ones for my other stories, Indomitable and Irrepressible. You definitely need to read those before tackling this one!

A/N: As evidenced by this story, I do sometimes cave to peer pressure thanks to my reviewers of Irrepressible. Reminder: a lot of this is going to be AU. And btw, with Steve I tend to use the traditional (or as close as possible) spellings of Hawaiian words, but with Danny I tend to use the common spellings. I hope that's not too confusing.

Story shifts between Steve and Danny's POVs…

ooooooo

As time continues to slip past me in the monotony of a cruel and lonely routine, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to come to terms with what's going to happen when – when and not if – I get cleared of the murder charges. Somehow in the short amount of time that we've known each other, Danny and I have become close friends. In fact, I would consider him my best friend – the best I've had in a long time.

I've endured loss so many times that this time shouldn't be any more difficult, yet it is. And this time my loss won't be due to death, but instead to life, to distance, and to time. When this latest trial in my life is over, my best friend is going back home to New Jersey to be with his family – as is right and proper – and our partnership will be over.

It's been a long time since I've allowed anyone to get close to me, to get to know me so well. He barged into my life, and in many ways I kind of took over his life in return. We're so different and yet I feel as though we've known each other for a very long time. He's helped me adjust to a mostly civilian life and also helped me regain some of the humanity that all my years as a naval officer and as a SEAL forced me to bury.

And just as important, he's helped for the most part to keep me sane as we've gone after all those who are responsible for killing my parents and countless unknown others. As morbid a thought as it probably is, it doesn't change the fact that my father's death brought someone into my life who I've begun to think of as a brother – the brother I've always wanted but never thought I'd have. We may not share a common ancestry, but I feel a bond with him like the one I feel with Mary Ann, though I don't think I'll ever tell him that. And, even though he'll be gone from my life soon, I don't think that feeling will ever go away.

And because they are a package deal, having Danny in my life as my partner and friend meant that his wonderful daughter Grace became part of my life and 'ohana too. I'd just gotten used to her calling me 'Uncle Steve' and used to occasionally spending time with her and Danny. And I realize now that I'm not going to just lose Danny's friendship, but Grace's too. She's young enough that she'll probably quickly forget her Uncle Steve, maybe only remembering me as someone her Danno used to rant a lot about.

But I won't be able to forget the joy she briefly brought into my life, or the humanity she brought out from wherever it was buried, or even her enthusiasm at discovering all that the Islands have to offer.

I sigh and rub my hands over my face trying to wipe away some of the exhaustion I'm feeling.

But, Grace is already gone if that itinerary I was slipped is to be at all believed.

I wish I could've said goodbye.

ooooooo

The next time I ask for a meeting of the minds, I make sure everyone including Chin is there. I present my theory and my evidence about Pita which is basically just hearsay at this point. But unsurprisingly, they don't think my theory that Steve is being systematically cut off from everything and everyone is so far-fetched an idea after all. They know that Steve would never willingly hurt Grace's feelings, know how much she means to him, and they know just how much of a master manipulator Wo Fat apparently can be. And, like me, they are just as worried about what Steve could be going through on the inside of that prison.

Our next step is to learn everything we can about Pita and see if any of it leads back to Wo Fat. It's going to be difficult given our limited resources, but hopefully we'll make some progress soon.

Now that I know we're still being manipulated by Wo Fat, that Steve has been isolated from us in what is likely an attempt to break my friend, I feel the burden of my promises settle that much more heavily upon my shoulders. It kills me that I don't know just how far our nemesis has taken things or how much influence he has within Halawa Correctional. Have things gone beyond the attempt to isolate and escalated to physical violence yet?

I've not been the best partner to my friend lately. I should've reined him in that night. If I'd been a better partner, then maybe Steve wouldn't be facing God only knows what kind of torture in prison. If I'd done a better job at being his back-up, then maybe we could've taken Jameson down the right way with evidence and proper procedure instead of him going off the reservation like he did.

Not too long after lunch, I get a call from my Grace. It's just the thing to distract me from my guilt and the endless paperwork my job now entails. We have a great chat and while it lifts my spirits to hear from her, it also serves to remind me just how far away she is right now and that I failed yet again at a relationship with Rachel.

I'm pretty sure now, that without the baby, our reconciliation is not going to amount to anything more than the equivalent of 'break-up sex.' We haven't changed as people and I'm still a cop so how could things be any different this time around and over the long run?

Gracie and I talk about everything and nothing and it all just makes me smile even when she says she misses not only her Danno but Hawaii as well. My smile stays until she asks about her Uncle Steve and why she can't send any more drawings. I don't think she quite understands everything that's going on, but she still wants to know how he is and when she'll be able to talk to him again.

How do I explain a situation like this to a nine-year old? Knowing your dad's partner has wrongfully been put in prison is one thing, but this—? This I have no idea how to explain, so I simplify the situation to say he's not allowed right now (which is true after a fashion) but will as soon as he can. She seems to accept my answer, but I can hear from her tone that she'll be asking again soon.

When we finally and all too soon say goodbye, it's a while before I can get past the feeling of depression that being apart from my daughter this long is causing.

Sometimes I feel like I'm being torn in two. On one side is my obligation to Steve and on the other is my love for my daughter. I need to see Steve free and restored to his life, but I absolutely ache for my Gracie.

God, I miss her so much.

Just then I'm tempted to fly out and see her for the weekend – assuming I can get Rachel's permission. I know Steve would not begrudge me some time with my daughter. In fact, he'd probably encourage it and then try to convince me to stay away so I won't be dragged down any further by what's happened to him and Five-0.

And it's knowing that Steve would rather me be in New Jersey with my daughter, that he would possibly sacrifice his own freedom, which convinces me to stay here for now. I have to believe that I can fulfill my promises and get my partner out. Only then can I leave Hawaii with a clear conscience and be with Gracie wherever Rachel decides to settle.

ooooooo

Once I'm back in my cell after the latest visit from my attorney, I spend some time reflecting on Junior's behavior as I work through some stretches, sit-ups, and push-ups.

Junior seemed anxious and almost desperate while he gave me the barest of updates on my case. There wasn't much in the way of new information but more of a reiteration of the fact that the evidence against me was solid and that he thinks it will be nearly impossible to get me acquitted.

He also asked if I had reconsidered changing my plea to guilty in hopes of a less-than-life term in prison. When I'd refused this idea once again, I'd swear his anxiety and his nervousness reached all new levels. I fervently hope that Junior's newest push for me to change my plea to guilty means that Danny and the others are closer to getting me out of here.

Come to think of it, and I don't know why I didn't notice it before, but Junior visited earlier than normal. He wasn't due to be here for another eight to eleven meals. I know my internal clock is messed up but I don't think my meal count is that far off. What's happened outside these reinforced concrete walls I'm trapped behind that has made my attorney break his routine?

I force myself to slowly exhale in order to stop a grin from breaking out on my face. I can't let the all-seeing eye above me think I'm doing anything more than exercising, can't let them realize that I'm onto more than they probably can guess I've figured out by now.

It's my team – or what's left of it. It has to be.

Soon, I think as I move into the first of a series of yoga positions. Soon, I will be free.

Things get worse after that.

As the meals go by, I realize that two of my opportunities to leave my cell have been 'forgotten' for lack of a better word. By now they both should've happened and haven't. In the last 18 to 21 meals, I should've have been taken out to the exercise yard and I should've had the shower where I also get some clean clothes.

What did I do to make my watchers revoke the privileges I most looked forward to and needed in order to survive being in this place? I couldn't think of anything I could've done recently unless this wasn't completely about me.

I've been so careful to not let on that I know I'm being manipulated down almost to the smallest of details. The 'captain's mast' aspect of my every meal as a reminder of my pending discharge from the Navy. The meals in general with their reduced nutrition and calories in an attempt to make me physically weaker. The camera, 24-hour light, the fake notes and lack of access to anyone outside of my attorney as attacks to wear me down mentally. All things designed to break me.

Perhaps my team really is closing in on a way to get me free and this is a last ditch attempt to force me to give up, to force me into changing my plea from not guilty. Perhaps this is some sort of roundabout punishment for their actions. Nothing else has been working the way they've been wanting it to as far as I can guess.

I'm losing weight but still am reasonably fit. I'm disheartened by what's happened and by what will happen (I'm going to miss Gracie and especially Danno), but I've not lost hope that I'll be cleared of the murder charges.

So, maybe my watchers think that by stepping up their game and not ever letting me out of my cell again will change my mind or torment me further.

There's no way to know what's going on, and the only thing I can do is hope that my shower and yard privileges will be returned to me at some point, or better yet, that I'll leave this place for good. I wish there was some way to know what's going on out there.

ooooooo

Finally we start to make some progress.

On first pass, Pita looks as pure as new fallen snow on some never before traversed mountain. His background is seemingly so clean you could eat off of it.

But there was no way I was going to let this go – my friend's life (and perhaps his sanity) depends on me finding the truth out about Pita's connection to Wo Fat. And I'm 100% certain Steve's 'attorney' has been playing for the wrong team this entire time. I will not stop until I prove it, no matter how long it takes and how much I miss my little girl.

It's late at night and I'm missing my daughter so much right now I almost can't stand it anymore. It's almost as if my soul is physically aching for her presence. And I'm also missing my friend's craziness, which would be a welcome distraction right about now though there's no way I'd ever tell him that. I throw up both my hands and look upward in supplication, hoping for the strength I need to see this through.

Going through Pita's records yet again only reignites my worry for Steve and what he might be going through right now. I put down the page that I've been apparently staring at for God only knows how long now and realize that I can't recall a single word on it. Rubbing my eyes, I decide to go get some coffee in hope that some time away will help.

My mind starts to wander as I lean against the counter and sip my cup of blessed caffeine. I wonder how I'm going to be able to afford moving to wherever Rachel decides to settle with my Grace. It wasn't that long ago that I spent the majority of my savings to move to these cursed islands and now I'm going to be doing the same again to move away from them.

It seems like my life has been spent trying to afford one thing or another. First, trying to afford paying off my college loans while…

I snap out of my musings as I begin to choke on a sip of coffee as a sudden insight causes me to inhale instead of swallowing. Apparently oxygen is still preferred over caffeinated liquids in my lungs. Coughing and trying to clear the liquid from my airways, I stumble over to my pile of research about Pita. Carelessly I go through the piles heedless of the order which I had them in.

Where is it? I know I saw… "Yes!" I exclaim out loud and accompany it with an excited fist pump into the air.

I pull out a paper and read its contents. Then, based on that, I go searching in a different pile of paper. Finally, I find what I'm looking for and yet I don't find the information I'm expecting to be on it. I shuffle through all the piles and make a note to ask Chin to double check and make sure we haven't missed getting this information. I could be getting excited over nothing.

But this has to be it. The Feds got Al Capone not because of the violence he'd committed or endorsed, but by following the money and getting him on tax evasion. And now I think we've got Pita by also following the money assuming I'm reading this right. One month Pita was paying off his college and law school loans and the next…he wasn't. As far as I can tell, he didn't default on his loans, but paid them off far, far ahead of what he should've been able to. But how? Public defense attorneys don't make that much money.

I need more information. Maybe Chin or Jenna can work their magic to get me a break down of the guy's loan amounts and payments. Closing my eyes, I heave a groaning sigh and run my hands through my hair before dropping them to my sides. Maybe I'm seeing things that aren't really there, wanting so badly to find something – anything – against Pita so that I can help Steve. I really hope that's not the case.

I reach for my burner cell and call Chin. After I explain what I think I've found; Chin seems to agree it's definitely something to check out. Maybe I'm not seeing things after all.

ooooooo

As the number of meals since I last had been allowed out of my cell continues to increase, I begin to wonder if I'll ever again feel clean or see the sky, if I'll ever again leave this eight by ten foot concrete tomb.

If my count is correct, and I'm seriously beginning to doubt it is, then Junior should be visiting sometime in the next 13 to 16 meals. I'm actually really looking forward to the visit no matter how unproductive and basically useless they have been in the past. At this point, it seems like his visits are probably going to be the only way I'm ever going to see the outside of my cell and it's better than never getting to leave it at all.

I try to break up the monotony as best as I can with the many years of memories I allow myself to dwell on. In general, I avoid the majority of my childhood because memories of my mother, of the way my family used to be before her violent death are somehow even more painful while I'm in this place.

But memories of the days following my mom's death are now seemingly inextricably linked to memories of the destruction of Five-0 and the guilt/shame I feel for being so easily led into Wo Fat's trap. I allowed my emotions to rule which made me sloppy and left my team vulnerable to attack – especially Kono with an IA investigation that's likely been dropped on her shoulders. Chin and Danny seem to have been not so much attacked as distracted, but regardless it's my job to protect them and I failed spectacularly at it.

Not being on active duty with the SEALs anymore has made me soft. And if by some miracle I don't lose my commission once I'm freed, then maybe I should return to active duty and serve my penance overseas. Once Kono is cleared, I have no real reason to stay. Five-0 has probably been permanently disbanded and even if it's not, they won't want me back as its leader going forward given everything that's happened. The cousins have each other and their huge family. Danny has his currently expanding family and is leaving Hawai'i for good. They don't need me and they probably never have. All I bring to their lives is chaos and destruction; they'll be just fine without me.

And if I do lose my commission, then I'll figure something out. Maybe I could find work at a security firm somewhere (assuming they're not too picky about my having a dishonorable discharge) and preferably it will be on the Mainland. I don't think I could stay on the Islands anymore and not just because I'll be the disgraced former leader of Five-0, but because O'ahu now holds too many good memories of my former team. It feels as though my heart is being torn in two at the thought of permanently leaving the Islands, but right now it seems the best course of action.

Twenty meals later and I'm starting to think that Junior might not be back until my trial which I'm not even certain when it's supposed to begin anymore. At this point, I'm almost desperate to leave my cell and find myself pacing back forth like a caged lion more often than ever before. I miss the sun, miss human interaction, and miss my old life.

I have to keep to my routine as much as possible not only for my sanity but for the camera watching me from up above. I can't let them know it's all really starting to get to me. That sometimes I wish it would all just…stop.

Some more meals later – four? six? – a miracle occurs.

Or given my current, diminished worldview, what happens is akin to a miracle.

ooooooo

After calling in even more favors and doing even more research, I think we've got him. Unfortunately, we don't have Wo Fat – yet – but I think we've definitely got enough on Pita to get him brought up on charges and finally get my greatly missed friend some decent legal representation. Now all we have to do is prove it, and I've a feeling it won't be that easy.

It turns out Pita's school loans were paid off over a period of six months by a corporation going by the name of Aphalion, Inc. Researching that company brought about the discovery of it being a part of a series of shelf companies.

A cousin of both Chin and Kono had to explain it all to us. Basically a shelf company is just like a shell company that exits only on paper but which has an added bonus feature. It is created, pays taxes, etc. and left to season on a shelf for years until someone attaches their name to it. A perfectly legal company with a perfect corporate record that exists primarily so its owners can hide their assets. Or, in this case, can pay off an asset and remain mostly anonymous. And if anyone starts to look too closely, the owners can shut it down and start all over again with another shelf company.

In our case, Pita's loans were paid off by Aphalion and once the last payment was made, the corporation was shut down and the assets seemingly reverted to its 'parent' company, Tyrion, Ltd. which happens to be another shelf company. Every time we think we've got the names of the current shelf company's corporate officers they're proven to be fake and we're confronted with yet another recent (sometimes hours old) notice of dissolution for that corporation.

For them to be burning so many shelf companies, we must be making them a little bit nervous with our current line of investigation. Wo Fat, or some alias of his, must be connected to these companies otherwise they wouldn't be working so hard to erase their money trail and keep us from learning who the real owners are. But we have no proof and must reluctantly find another avenue of investigation to run concurrently with this one.

Pita's phone records are mostly a dead end as well. He received multiple phone calls from multiple untraceable phones where the number was only used once. The phones themselves were mostly untraceable since they were purchased with cash from multiple local stores that have minimal security and no way to match a face with a purchase after all this time.

One of those only-used-once phone numbers just happened to call Pita the night Steve was arrested, and other numbers called the day of each of my attempts to visit my partner, and still more numbers at other key times related to this case. I don't believe in coincidences, especially with the timing this perfect. Those calls had to be about Steve, about how to handle or rather in this instance mishandle my friend's case. But again, we still have no proof.

No matter what though, I'm – we're – going to keep digging until we find something that will help us get rid of that crooked little bastard of a lawyer.

That Saturday morning, I'm meeting with Kono for a late breakfast. Smugly and as if she knows something I don't, she begins telling me about the Girl Cousins' Night Out that took place the previous night. Thankfully Kono is still getting along OK with her family and not on the outs like Chin had been. Rumor has it that one of the ubiquitous cousins 'accidentally' overheard the truth about the reason behind Kono's suspension and the IA investigation that's tarnishing her career, so it's not affecting her relationship with her family. It was the least I could do. She doesn't deserve to be ostracized from her family like Chin was, like Chin never deserved to be.

Anyway, she tells me how her cousin Alana has just recently gotten engaged to a guy who happens to work as a guard at Halawa Correctional. It's the best news I've heard in quite a while in relation to this obviously hell-spawned case. I think I need to meet this soon-to-be cousin in-law.

After talking with the fiancé, Lee, and finding out a little about him, I'm positive we have another ally for our crusade. And, if things go right for us just this once, I think we finally might have a way to get a message to McGarrett.

ooooooo

As miracles go, it's probably only a minor one, but to me, it's huge – as are its implications.

I crouch down to retrieve my most recently delivered meal – the one that, if my memory serves, should consist of grossly overcooked carrots – and immediately notice something is different.

As usual on my tray are the two plain, white slices of bread, but this time they are not the fully intact, perfectly square slices I'm used to seeing. This time they've been torn into pieces – five pieces to be exact.

It's Danny. It has to be. With this small gesture, he's found a way to communicate with me. Just as hope was beginning to wane again and despair was gaining the upper hand, this sign comes to renew my spirit. If this isn't some sort of miracle, I'm not sure what else it could be.

It's not much of a sign or a message, but I don't care. To me, it means the beginning of the end of this ordeal.

To cover the alteration of the bread from the camera's watchful eye, I quickly tear it into even more pieces. Hopefully, my watchers will only see my finally touching that damned bread as a victory for them, as a sign that I'm finally breaking and not as a sign that my team is still out there working to get me exonerated.

ooooooo

When Lee, the guard who works at Halawa and who is helping us on threat of having his engagement ring handed back to him by his fiancée, told me about some of what he knows, heard and suspects of the treatment my partner is being subjected to, I decide to keep that information to myself. If even some of it's true, then Steve is practically being tortured both emotionally and physically. Lee even mentioned that he hasn't seen McGarrett outside his prison cell for more than a week now.

Hearing that and a few other things, I begin to feel physically sick and emotionally bruised. Even a prisoner in solitary confinement should have and does have some rights and privileges and yet I suspect Steve's had all or mostly all of them taken away from the very beginning.

Wo Fat deserves not one miniscule bit of mercy when we finally catch up to him. In fact, he deserves to suffer for all the misery he's caused the McGarrett family over the years and especially for all the torment he's currently heaping upon one McGarrett in particular.

The rest of the team doesn't need to know about this unless Steve himself chooses to share it with them. And if he chooses to keep quiet about his experiences inside prison, then I'll make sure he knows I'll be there for him with a couple of Longboards to drink and an ear (or two) to listen.

Given my lack of options to get a hopefully undetected message to Steve, I'm praying the one I did send was loud and clear: We're still here, Steven, and we're still working to get you out of that hell hole. Though I have no way to confirm it, somehow I know my message was received and understood.

Meanwhile, we keep digging into Pita's background.

There has to be something we can use to get rid of him so that my partner can have a better chance at being exonerated.

It's only when we start to look into Pita's family ties, that we make some unexpected headway. One generation back, one of his cousins married into the family and she just happens to share a maiden name with Wo Fat. It's a tenuous connection especially since it is one of the more common surnames, but it's a connection nonetheless – and I intend on exploiting it.

Chin decides that this lead along with all our other circumstantial evidence is enough to go to Pita's office in an unofficially official capacity and pull him in for questioning. But when he goes to pick him up, he discovers that Pita left for lunch over an hour ago and has yet to return. Some phone calls and several visits to Pita's home and usual hangouts later, and still the guy has not turned up.

I'm updating a few police reports two days later when I stumble across a report of the identification of a body. One Jonah Kapela's (aka Pita) body had been identified this morning. He was apparently a victim of a 'random' mugging sometime around the time of his lunch break the other day, the day Chin tried to pull him in for questioning.

At first, I'm shocked into inaction. Wo Fat had his cousin, a member of his family, killed to protect himself which is not in and of itself that shocking. What's shocking is that this action actually benefits Steve, and I wonder if Wo Fat planned or even realizes it. I actually hope the bastard knows and didn't plan this move just because it's about time Five-0 finally gains back at least some of the upper hand.

The just over two hours I have to wait until my lunch break are the worst kind of torture. There's a call I need to make to a certain lawyer related to certain awesome cousins, and I don't want the wrong ears to hear it.

ooooooo

Just after seven meals later, another miracle occurs.

Finally and just when I feel that I'm about to lose it, my cell door opens. I'm trussed up in my usual set of shackles and led to where I usually meet with my attorney. I can't properly express how great it was to be out of my cell after so long even if it's to have another useless visit with my lawyer. But when I enter the room, it's immediately obvious that the person sitting at the table is not Junior. Well, it's not him unless Junior somehow managed to spontaneously change eye color and gender.

She introduces herself as Keiko Kalakaua, Kono's cousin and a criminal defense attorney. Straight away she informs me that Junior has been found dead, the apparent victim of a mugging. And then she proceeds to tell me a story that's so completely believable and not all that surprising. Junior, though there is no concrete evidence, was likely working for Wo Fat, but when my team dug a little too deep, he was killed. And now Keiko, who petitioned the court for this visit, is my attorney pending my approval.

I want to give my approval, but I'm wary of being handed another miracle so soon on a stainless steel table of a platter. But Keiko manages to allay my suspicions with one simple, folded piece of paper that she pushes across the table towards me.

I open it up to discover the drawing Grace made me of the both us building a sandcastle out on my beach. Anyone could've stolen that drawing from the refrigerator in my house, but only Danny could've added a sloppy drawing of Honu the turtle as she is depicted on the petroglyphs I took him to see the day we found that body and I broke my arm. This lady before me is legit and it's another step closer to the end of this mess.

We have a long talk about my case and just before she leaves, she informs me that I will be able to have visitors starting tomorrow. For a moment, I'm dumbstruck. I'm allowed visitors?

Danno… That means I'm going to be finally seeing my best friend tomorrow and I can hardly keep my joy contained behind the stoic, stony expression I've been maintaining since I first arrived.

Tomorrow. Danny and I are going to be reunited tomorrow.

ooooooo

I've been waiting outside Hawala's gates for Keiko for about an hour when she finally emerges. The grin on her face is infectious, and as I drive her back to her office, she shares the details of her visit. I'm concerned about her description of Steve's physical condition and wonder at his mental state. Is it just as bad?

Keiko doesn't seem to think so, but she doesn't know him like I do. My partner can be injured in the line of duty and still claim to be 'good' even if he really isn't.

The good news she saves for last. Visitation has been restored. I'll be able to see Steve tomorrow morning first thing. For a moment, I'm actually speechless – not that I'll ever admit it.

Steven… I'm going to be finally seeing my best friend tomorrow and I can hardly keep my joy contained at the thought.

Once I drop Keiko off, I call Kono to give her the good news to spread around to our allies and I also thank her once again for her vast network of cousins.

Tomorrow. Steve and I are going to be reunited tomorrow.

ooooooo

I sit there dumbly staring at my partner and friend across from me.

It seems like forever since we've seen each other and yet seeing him now – it's like we've not even been apart.

Neither of us have made a move for the telephone on the wall which will allow us to finally – finally – speak to each other after so very long.

Seeing him has brought back just how extremely screwed up everything is and I wonder if we'll ever be the same again. If we'll ever be Five-0 again.

The sound of a door slamming shut in the background breaks the spell between us and we each grab for our respective phones on the walls next to us.

We manage to exactly mirror each other's actions and for this moment at least, it's like we're perfectly in sync once more.

Once we each pick up the receiver though, neither of us say anything, but I can hear my friend on the other end breathing…and finally here.

ooooooo

Phone in hand, I can hear Steve's breathing in my ear, and I'm so relieved he's alive that I'm speechless for the second time in two days. All this time I've been trying to find a way to see my partner and best friend, to make sure he's as good as can be in a place like this, and now that I'm sitting across from him, I actually have no idea what to say even though we have so much that needs to be said.

I want to tell him everything we've been doing to get him out of prison, everything about what's going on between Rachel and I, and about Gracie and the child that was, but there are too many unfriendly eyes watching and ears listening.

For right now, it almost seems enough just to see him again even though he doesn't exactly look like the Steve I remember. His beard has grown in but it hasn't managed to hide how thin his face looks even though his bright orange jumpsuit accomplished that when I first laid eyes on him. His eyes look haunted even though his face is stony and devoid of emotion. It's a face that should be named, but to give it a name might make it take on a life of its own, might make it become permanent, and I never really want to see this Face ever again though I suspect I will despite my wishes to the contrary.

All I want to do is to replace that look with a face that is more like the Steve I've come to know, but that won't be possible until he's out of this damned prison.

Suddenly he smiles this goofy smile even though it doesn't really reach his eyes. I sort of recognize the smile, it resembles the one he gets on his face sometimes when we argue or banter back and forth.

"What are you smiling at?" I ask with a flat, not amused smile on my face and playing along with the pretense.

ooooooo

Phone in hand, I can hear Danny's breathing in my ear and I have no idea what to say. And it seems like for once, my friend is speechless too.

All this time I've wanted to see and talk to him and now that I'm sitting across from him, I've no idea what to say even though we have so much that needs to be said.

I want to apologize to him for not listening to him, for going off without him as my back-up, for allowing my emotions to rule and falling into Wo Fat's trap for us. I really want to talk to him about Rachel and Grace and tell him I'm going to miss him when he goes back to Jersey, that things – especially my life – won't be the same without him.

But given how much I've been manipulated and so closely watched while here, I can't risk saying any of those things for fear of unfriendly ears hearing us.

For right now, it almost seems enough just to see him again even though he doesn't exactly look like the Danny I remember. He's not wearing a tie which in of itself is alarming to me and his face is so full of warring emotions, that I don't even know where to start identifying them except for the ones that seem to dominate – sorrow and worry tinged with more than a hint of exhaustion.

All I want to do is to replace that look with one that is more like the Danny I've come to know, but that won't be possible until I get out of this damned prison and he can join his family.

Oddly enough his silence and his too still hands are starting to make me feel completely unsettled and so I decide to see if I can get him going on a good rant. The thought of a much missed rant makes me smile a bit even though I don't really feel like smiling given everything that's still weighing me (and apparently Danny) down.

Suddenly he asks with a flat smile on his face, "What are you smiling at?"

"Smiling at you," I reply and I can feel my barely there smile melting away from my face. "You actually look worse than I do."

ooooooo

The end.

ooooooo

A/N: Sorry everyone, but this is the last story in this series. Once I saw a trailer for the second season premiere, I realized I had a way to connect what was going on in my stories with what's going to happen in the premiere (e.g. last line of this story) and decided to end it there. I hope you enjoyed it…

Qweb, the use of Grace's drawing as a message to Steve is for you. Thanks for the idea! :]

Mahalo nui loa to Jaz22 for her encouragement and her beta of this story. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Thanks for reading!