OK, I am not firing on all cylinders today, I can truthfully tell you that. Somehow I ended up with pink eye and got sent home from work today, which I thought would be fun and I thought I would have time to 'play'. Not so... when you can't see the computer screen, it is difficult to type.

And... I posted earlier today and forgot to thank some very special people. I rely on four wonderful ladies to read and review my work. This time, I decided to begin posting this week, so I only sent this out to two of them, Sockie1000 and Sym64, but they went above and beyond the call of duty. They have read, re-read, picked and tweeked this to make it the story it is today. Oh, tinker... sockie just LOVES to tinker. But I appreciate both of them very much. Also, thanks to Sym, the title changed for the final story. I really didn't forget you ladies, I just posted too quickly. :)

'E ha

By Cokie

Chapter 1

Wednesday, 0600 hours

The obnoxious buzzing in his ear needed to go away.

Immediately.

Steve grabbed a pillow and slapped it against the side of his head hoping to drown out the sound.

Didn't help.

He was on his stomach, face down in a pillow and finally rose up enough to squint, checking out the room. When his eyes spied the clock, he realized the sound was coming from the alarm and the red numbers on the readout proclaimed it was 6:00 a.m.

The arm holding onto the pillow reached over and slapped the top of the offending clock, subduing it into silence. Then he face planted into the soft pillow, wondering why the alarm had even gone off.

Six a.m. He always kept the alarm set, but automatically shut it off every morning when his internal clock woke him at 0530.

Huh. He always wakes up at five thirty. Every morning. It's burned into his brain. Unless it was a morning when Catherine shared the bed with him. On those occasions even the internal clock was shut off.

But unfortunately in the last couple of years, those nights had been few and far between.

Steve laid there, eyes still closed, knowing he had to get up. Normally, he would roll out of bed, grab his trunks and head downstairs. He would open the refrigerator and reach for his juice mix, drinking it while heading outside. Then he would dive into the ocean and swim for half an hour. And if he had time, he would get in a short run, otherwise he would grab a shower and head to work.

This morning, all he wanted to do was lay in bed with his eyes closed and let sleep return. He was floating, on the verge of deeper sleep when the buzzing began again.

Damn.

His arm stretched out and he slapped at the alarm once again, this time only opening one eye and not even raising his head from the comfort of his pillow. The readout proclaimed it was 6:09, flashing off and then on. Off. On. Off. He continued to squint at the numbers, idly wondering why they always set the snooze for nine minutes. Why not ten? What's so special about nine? And who made up the rule?

At 6:18, his arm automatically slapped at the offensive noise, and he shut it off without even looking. His arm then just hung off the side of the bed, his hand resting on the floor.

The buzz was back. He dragged up his arm and swatted at his ear. Maybe a bee got in. Go 'way.

The sound got louder. Is that the smoke alarm? Hope Danny's not cooking.

The constant noise was really grating on his nerves and finally he pushed aside the pillow and rolled onto his back, blinking blearily at the ceiling. He wiped his hand across his eyes and turned his head to stare at the flashing, buzzing alarm, which proclaimed it to be 6:54.

Not possible.

With a sigh, Steve sat up and blinked when the room rolled and the floor threatened to come up and meet him. He slapped at the alarm and then turned the off button, ensuring that it would shut up. He planted both feet on the floor, placed his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.

What the heck did I drink last night?

He stood and headed toward the bathroom. A few minutes later, the hot shower spray was peppering onto his head and shoulders and he finally realized he didn't even have a drink last night. They had worked late and he had come home and had fallen into bed a little after midnight. Without a single Long Board.

He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist, and still dripping, went back to his bedroom for clothes. He heard a sound downstairs and then heard a voice shouting at him.

"Get a move on, McGarrett. What time zone are you on this morning?"

Shit. Can't I even get dressed in peace?

"Oh," Danny continued. "Coffee's ready."

Two minutes later, Steve stomped down the stairs and was met with a steaming cup of coffee, compliments of his partner. He took the cup and mumbled, "Thanks" and kept walking toward the kitchen after setting his phone and gun in the living room.

Danny followed. "Did you get in a good run this morning?"

"Somethin' like that," Steve mumbled, taking a sip of the coffee. He made a face at the bitter taste and set the cup on the counter next to the sink. He backtracked and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a jar of fresh pineapple juice. He reached for a glass and sloshed it half full and took a drink.

The taste was worse than the coffee and when he swallowed, the acid burned all the way down. He gagged and leaned over the sink as acidic, hot bile was forced back up past his lips. He leaned against the sink and coughed, turning on the water, washing it down the disposal.

Danny was quickly by his side. "Hey, you OK?"

Steve's eyes were shut tight and he still leaned over the sink, willing his stomach to settle. Finally he nodded, and replied, "Yeah. Just got choked on the juice."

"Are you sure? That seemed more than getting choked."

"I'm fine, Danny. Let's go."

"But…"

Steve was already in the living room, his voice sounding annoyed as he asked, "Are you coming?"

~~~H50~~~

Danny kept watch on Steve all day.

From a distance.

He had tried for conversation in the car on the way to work and when all he received where clipped, one-syllable answers, he shut up and stared out the window. They pulled into the lot and jerked to a stop in the parking space just as Chin and Kono were exiting their vehicles.

"Hey, guys," Kono called to them, meeting them on the sidewalk.

"Mornin'," Danny greeted her while waiting for Chin to join them before heading into the building.

Steve didn't even speak; he climbed from the driver's seat, slammed the door and made a bee-line into the building. When the others arrived, he was already in his office, seated behind his desk, staring at the computer screen.

"What's up with him?" Chin asked.

"Got me," Danny replied. "He's usually waiting on me when I pick him up. This morning he was still in the shower when I got there."

"Maybe he had a hot date last night," Kono said, grinning.

"Well, Catherine's an ocean away on the Enterprise, and I can't see him hooking up with anyone else."

"Me, either," Chin agreed. "But he'll come around. He always does."

Not always.

It seemed no one wanted to get close to their esteemed leader and gave wide berth around his office. Questions they had asked were answered with short, seemingly exasperated one or two word sentences.

Chin knocked on the closed door at noon. "Hey, Brah, I'm heading out to pick up 'aina awakea. What can I get you?"

Steve barely glanced up at him. "Not hungry, thanks. I'm good."

They bought him a turkey wrap anyway and Danny took it and tossed it on the desk.

"You need to eat."

Steve raised his eyes and looked at Danny over the top of his computer screen. "I think I'm capable of deciding when I will eat."

Danny's arms spread to his sides. "Hey, it might make you feel better. We'll try anything to get rid of Mr. Grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy," Steve groused. "And I'm also not hungry, so would you mind shutting the door… on your way out. I've got work to do."

If possible, Danny would have slammed the glass door. He went into the adjoining conference area and plopped down in a chair, scrubbing a hand over his face and neck.

"Any idea what's eating at him?" Chin asked.

"Nope. But he almost bit off my head, so I'm done. Let him sit there and stew all day for all I care."

"It's gotta be something," Kono told them. "Maybe he and Cath got into a fight."

Danny nodded. "That could be it. But I hope they work it out soon. I have to drive Mr. McGrump home tonight."

~~~H50~~~

What the hell are you doing?

Steve continued to stare at the computer. On it was a requisition form he had been working on all morning.

Although, in this instance, "working" was a generous word.

Mainly he sat and stared at it, trying to make sense of the text he was reading on the screen. The words blurred and when he squinted at them, his headache kicked up a notch or two. By blinking, he could bring everything back into focus, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on the form… or much of anything else.

Focus, McGarrett. There's no reason to bite off Danny's head. Or anyone else's for that matter.

Steve glanced into the conference area where his teammates were laughing and eating their lunch. Probably laughing at him. He sighed and then stood, reaching for the wrap they had bought for him. He took a deep breath and opened his office door, heading to make amends with his team.

"Hey… sorry for being such an ass today," Steve told them quietly while leaning against the door frame.

Danny halted, with his sandwich half-way to his mouth. "So, you're just apologizing for one day?"

Kono pulled out the chair next to her. "Don't listen to him, Boss. Here, sit next to me."

"Thanks," Steve replied, dropping down into the chair.

"You feeling OK, Brah?" Chin asked.

Steve massaged his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, making a face before answering. "Got a headache, that's all. I'm OK." He then took a deep breath and sniffed, reaching for a napkin.

Kono left the room and returned with a bottle of water and the super-sized bottle of Tylenol. "Here you go. Take a couple of these before you eat."

He shook out three tablets from the bottle and tossed them into his mouth before twisting off the cap from the water. He then said, "Thanks" and unwrapped his sandwich, taking a bite. His stomach immediately rolled and he set down the wrap, waiting for the feeling to go away. He followed the conversation, making comments where appropriate, while picking at his food. After a couple of bites, the nauseous feeling disappeared and he managed to eat about half of it before tossing the rest into the trash. He sat at the table with his team, sipping on the remainder of his water.

Danny tossed his empty wrappers across the room, landing in the trash can. "Three points!"

"That's only two and you know it," Chin argued. "And besides, you barely banked it in."

"Hey, a basket's a basket. So, anything on the agenda this afternoon? Not that I'm trying to drum up business, but this paperwork is getting boring as hell."

Steve stood and stretched. "Maybe so, but you need to have your reports from the Hwang case to me later this afternoon. Once the paperwork is filed, maybe we can all make it an early day."

"Now that's what I like to hear, Boss," Kono said with a grin. "Want to go catch some waves with me? Might help clear your head."

Steve felt his stomach make another flop. "No, not today. Think I'll head home. But ask me next time."

"Sure thing, Brah."

He turned to head back to his office, but when his stomach flipped on him again, he quickly changed his route and headed to the restroom instead. He barely made it to the stall before his stomach churned and he lost the meager lunch he had just eaten. Once lunch was gone, it seemed his insides insisted on dredging up the remainder of everything he ate yesterday. And from the dry heaves, he wasn't positive that he wouldn't puke up a lung or a kidney next.

~~~H50~~~

Chin had his hand on the restroom door and pushed, only to hear the unmistakable sounds of someone getting sick inside. He had just left Danny arguing with Kono in the break room, so that only left Steve in the stall. He eased the door shut to give the man some privacy and not cause him embarrassment and made his way back to his office and waited, watching for McGarrett.

~~~H50~~~

Steve washed his hands and then cupped water into his hands to rinse his mouth. He spit the acrid taste from his mouth and cupped more water to splash on his face. Must have picked up a bug someplace. Achy, runny nose, nausea. Crap.

He sighed and looked into the mirror, seeing red-rimmed eyes staring back at him from a too-pale face.

You look like shit.

'Yeah', the mirror mocked him. 'So do you.'

~~~H50~~~

Thursday, 0530 hours

No need for the alarm this morning. He awoke as per normal although once he was upright, the headache began to nag in the background. Wearing his swim trunks, he walked down the steps, reaching out to grasp the banister when he nearly tripped on the bottom step.

Klutz.

He opened the refrigerator and stared at the jug of juice, deciding against it when his stomach disapproved before he even reached for it. Instead, he reached for a bottle of water and then the bottle of Tylenol he kept on top of the fridge.

He downed the pain relievers and padded on bare feet outside, setting his water bottle on one of the chairs at the edge of the beach. Rubbing one hand over his eyes, he stared at the sky as the deep, darkness of night gave way to the purple hues of dawn. He blinked when the horizon seemed to tilt on him, but when he reopened his eyes, all was normal. He continued walking and waded out into the tepid water until it was near his waist before diving into a wave, preparing to swim his morning circuit.

As the water sluiced over him, a fiery pain began at the base of his skull and quickly spread like fingers blistering his brain, bringing with it an attack of vertigo. He lost his bearings and twisted in the water, trying to figure out which was up, and panicked, opening his mouth and taking in water. He fought against the pain and dizzy sensation while the current crashed against him, beating his body.

McGarrett, snap out of it!

Steve tried to hold his head together with both hands, feeling that it would fly apart unless he held tightly to it. He managed to calm himself and when he did, immediately righted and floated to the surface where he spluttered and coughed to get the salt water out of his system.

What the heck was that? A tadpole panic attack?

He tread water for a couple of minutes, getting both his bearings and his breath back. Then he began to swim slowly, parallel to land, trying to relax his body and clear his mind. He had swam in the ocean since before he could walk and never had experienced a feeling like that- not even when he was pushed into the water, hands and feet bound, for drown-proofing in BUD/S. As he swam, the intense pain subsided and was replaced by the now-familiar pounding in his head, which throbbed with each beat of his heart and every stroke of his arms.

He slowly swam what felt like several hundred yards before stopping to catch his breath and see how far he had come. He couldn't believe he was only at the far edge of his nearest neighbor's property. He normally would cover that distance in a few seconds, yet he felt as if he had been swimming forever. He pushed closer to shore then decided to swim back toward his property, keeping to the more shallow water. Once on his own section of beach, he dragged himself out of the water, walking on shaking legs to one of the chairs before collapsing into it. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to make sense of the morning.

Before he could form a coherent thought, he was sound asleep.

~~~H50~~~

Steve woke an hour later with the sun shining in his eyes. He squinted and looked around, trying to concentrate on why he was on the beach. Raising his head he once again rode out a swell of pain that began at the back of his skull and blossomed through his head. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and with a groan, dropped his head back onto the chair, the resulting thunk not helping his headache whatsoever. When the worst of the attack ended, he blinked and stared at his watch, willing the hands to come into focus.

Seven-twenty-five.

Shit. Again.

Steve rolled out of the chair, stumbling down on one knee when the pain spiked once more. He grabbed the chair arm and dragged himself back up, waiting until the dizziness abated before moving back into the house. He would be surprised if Danny wasn't sitting in his kitchen, drinking his coffee.

Wait. It was Thursday. Danny always picked up Grace and drove her to school on Thursdays.

He was on his own.

All he had to do was make it up the stairs and into the shower.

And then drive himself to work. With bleary eyesight and wonky legs.

Piece of cake.

He just couldn't wait for the weekend so he could get some decent rest. Steve told himself that was all he needed. And he truly believed it.

~~~H50~~~

Thursday, 1025 hours

Steve dragged himself up from his desk and reached for his empty coffee cup. The taste of the brew was lousy and made his stomach churn, but he needed the caffeine to stay awake. And he seemed to think the coffee had marginally helped his headache. His team members were in their offices and he felt the coast was clear. If he was quick, he could grab the coffee and be back at his desk before being accosted.

Again.

They wouldn't let up. The minute he had arrived this morning, all three of them trailed after him, asking what was wrong, why was he late, how did he feel, did he need anything?

Damn it, he was a grown man who had been taking care of himself for quite a few years. He didn't need to be mothered and he surely didn't want them breathing down his neck.

He opened his office door and purposely walked toward the break room, reaching for the coffee pot.

"Hey, Boss, let me make you another pot," Kono's voice spoke right behind him. "That one's pretty stale by now."

Damn. She's like a cat.

"It's fine."

"No, seriously, that's just the dregs. I'll make more."

"Kono, I said it was fine. I've got this." He turned to stare at her, thinking she would cower and walk away.

No such luck. He poured the coffee into his cup.

"You hungry? Want a snack?"

He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. "No, I do not. Really, I can handle this." The mug was in his hand and he turned to leave the small room.

"Well, glad to know you didn't hire me for my coffee making skills."

He snorted and before he even had a chance to think about it, he opened his mouth to speak. "Yeah, well if this pot is any indication, it's a good thing I didn't."

She gave him a half grin. "Hey, you've never complained before."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should have. But don't worry, now that I hired you, you're safe. Won't have to go through life as a meter maid."

"WHAT did you say?" She turned and stared at him, a frown on her face and her hand on her hip.

Steve shrugged. "Come on, Kono, think about it. You probably made it into the academy so they could meet some gender or minority quota. After Chin's mess up, you don't think they would let you be a real cop, do you? But there are always grunt jobs around… meter maid, or maybe they'd even let you direct traffic."

She ran her hand through her hair, pulling it up off her neck. "Am I hearing you correctly? Did you really say that I should be lucky that you hired me because otherwise I would have no career?" Her voice continued to increase the longer she spoke.

He shrugged one shoulder once again. "Yeah, I guess I did. And if you would think about it, you would know it is true." He gave her a mock salute and said, "You can thank me later," before turning and walking back toward his office.

Less than a minute later, he was once again seated behind his desk and glanced up when Chin jerked open the door and stalked into the office.

"What the hell did you just say to her?" The normally mild-mannered officer's eyes were blazing with fury.

Steve took a slow drink of his coffee before setting the cup down. He then raised hooded eyes up to look at Chin.

"Just filled her in on the facts of life. Apparently she doesn't like the truth."

"And just what 'truth' is that?" Chin said through gritted teeth. "I've never seen her so angry at you."

Steve slightly shook his head. "I just pointed out that if it wasn't for me hiring her, she would be spending her days working HPD as a traffic cop or meter maid."

"What?" Chin shouted, his face a mixture of confusion and outrage. "You do remember she graduated second in her class, don't you?"

McGarrett scoffed at that. "Maybe so, but don't forget she's related to you. That quickly limited any job choices she may have had. But what's the big deal? I hired her. She's safe. And don't worry, Chin, so are you."

"Steve, where is all this garbage coming from? This isn't you talking."

"Sure sounds like me," Steve shot back. "And If I remember correctly, without me, you would probably still be busting the crime wave down on the wharf. Bet you just couldn't wait to get to work every morning!"

"OK, listen to me," Chin took a deep breath and continued, trying hard to restore his normally calm demeanor. "I don't know what's got into you, but you are way out of line. You need to step back and think for a moment, maybe talk to someone."

"A shrink?" Steve snorted. "I just spoke up and told the truth. That doesn't make me crazy, Chin. It makes me honest. And if you and Kono can't handle it, it's your problem, not mine."

"Ok, fine. No shrinks. But you say you have a headache. Maybe you need to get checked out by a doc—"

Steve quickly shoved his chair back and stood, grabbing onto the desk to keep from swaying. "OK, Chin, that's enough. You're in my office on work time. I suggest you get out of here and actually get some work done and leave me alone. And you can stay out of my business."

Chin stared at him for almost a full minute before nodding. "Yeah, Steve, not to worry. I'll leave you alone. Trust me."

~~~H50~~~