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Lost Boy

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Though Steve McGarrett didn't realize it at the time, the death of his mother in a car crash delayed his realization that he was born a killer.

He'd been a lanky football star and an honors student, who spent his free time trying to score with his girlfriend, but she resisted his teenage horniness with more determination than any opposing team on the field. Then a drunk driver hit his mother's car and his father packed him and his sister off to live with different aunts and uncles. He ended up in the Midwest, feeling alien and alone. Only the thought of his future and his goals comforted him, as his parents had always encouraged ambition and duty. He intended to apply to Annapolis and join the Navy, which meant being in top physical condition. So he applied for the football team, and eventually made new friends, including a new girlfriend.

He and Lucy were in the back of her father's pick-up truck by the lake when she finally let him go too far, press her down into the blankets and kiss her like he'd never stop, take off her top and caress her breasts, hump against her body as he shoved his hand down her jeans, and wow, he was sorry he'd never done it with Cindy. Sex was great, sex was wonderful, more powerful than a tsunami, more unpredictable than the tornados he'd come to know. Sex was like a pure shot of adrenaline to his brain. No wonder all his friends had teased him for not having experienced this ecstasy. But then his eyes refocused and he looked at Lucy, expecting to see the same pleasure on her cute face, and instead found a smiling corpse.

The realization that he'd killed his girlfriend, even if accidentally, freaked him out. He was a murderer. He struggled for control and calm, suppressing his panic, and considered his situation, because he was still his father's son. Visits to the Honolulu Police Department had shown him he never wanted to be on the other side of the law. Lucy had lied to her parents about her whereabouts, so he wiped the truck clean of his fingerprints and double timed it home. He threw up in the bathroom and took a shower, grateful that he'd come in his pants, leaving little DNA evidence behind.

The investigation proved unexpectedly beneficial, as he realized his powers extended beyond murdering with his kiss. Perhaps it was a primal instinct that made him grab the detective's hand, insisting that he hadn't seen Lucy that night, no absolutely not, he didn't know who she was going to meet, but it wasn't him. A red flush flowed from his hand up the detective's arm, and then the detective believed him absolutely. Steve was a football star, an honors student, and an upstanding young man, yes sirree bob, no doubt about it.

Besides, the coroner had no idea how Lucy had been killed, her life drained out of her without leaving a physical mark beyond an eerie grin, so no one seriously thought a kid could have committed the crime.

After the detective left, Steve threw up again, desperately trying to figure out what the hell he was and how he had these abilities, and wishing frantically that he could talk to someone, anyone. He couldn't call his dad in Hawaii or his sister in California, not to confess something so horrible. His aunt and uncle were nice people, but as small-minded as their small town.

Killing himself would be a fitting atonement for his crime. His uncle's shotgun was easily accessible and he knew how to use it, having been raised to hunt. Or he could run away, separating himself from decent, law-abiding people. His survival instinct restrained him from taking a reckless action that would ruin his life, but he dropped to his knees and prayed, promising that he'd never kill an innocent person again.

His resolve lasted three months, as a weird, restless yearning grew stronger and harder within him. The memory of Lucy in his arms, giving him her life, was irresistible. He was tormented both by the fear that he'd go crazy if he couldn't relive that sensation, and by wondering who he would hurt next. Finally, he borrowed his uncle's car and drove to the closest large town, finding the most disreputable area, until he saw an old homeless man sitting alone in an alley. He gave him the bottle of whiskey he'd stolen from his uncle's cabinet, let him drink his fill, and then kissed him. His lips were rough, not soft like Lucy's, his breath smelled of nasty booze, not mint gum, but the rush was the same, an electric shockwave to Steve's system that made his entire body feel alive, even as the old man died.

He wished there was an ocean nearby, somewhere he could stare into the distance and contemplate his future, maybe try to kill himself by swimming until he sank from exhaustion, but the lake where Lucy died had to suffice. He accepted that he was sick or flawed or alien, he didn't know, and that he couldn't control this need. So he had to resist it as much as possible, channel it when he couldn't, and join the military as he'd always planned. If he had to kill, he'd kill for his country.

Another 17 years passed before he finally found someone who could give him answers. Almost two decades of secretly preying on the homeless or taking advantage of crazy battlefield conditions to kill enemies with a kiss rather than his SIG P226 might have driven another man insane, but Steve had been raised with the credo that you did what you had to.

Detective Danny Williams didn't appear to be a savior, only a very annoying, very short man blocking Steve's way. After they'd snarled and pointed guns at each other, before verifying IDs and relaxing, he'd touched Danny on the hand. "I'm going to take my father's tool box and leave," he said, with the same intensity that he had used dozens of times in his life.

Only Danny didn't look blank and agree mindlessly. Danny stared at his hand and said, "Are you kidding me?"

Steve curled his hand around Danny's. Maybe he hadn't touched him securely enough. "I need that tool box."

"That tool box is part of an active crime scene. It's not going anywhere. And that trick only works on humans. Can't you tell a fellow Fae when you see one?"

"Fae?" Steve asked helplessly.

"Fae, yes Fae." Danny snapped his fingers in front of Steve's face. "Fey, like you and me? Like not human? Are you some sort of moron that you don't know your own kind?"

The denial instinct he'd honed during his entire adult life was too strong and someone he couldn't control, either through his position as a Navy SEAL or the power of his touch, was disconcerting as all fuck. Steve couldn't deal, so he phoned the Governor, took the case and the tool box, and got the hell away from Danny, pretending that fear wasn't making him flee.

He invaded HPD and threw his weight around, demanding Danny's personnel file as well as the case file on his dad, but he found nothing that would explain why Danny referred to them as 'not human.' When Steve went to co-opt him into his new taskforce, he certainly looked human, his face heavy with stubble and his clothes too ridiculously conservative for Hawaii.

"Fine, I don't get a choice in the human world, but you did clear this through the Fae Council, right? Because they put me on the HPD for a reason, to make sure that humans don't become aware of any Fae crimes, and it is going to be your ass, not mine, in a sling if they're all pissy about this switch."

Steve froze. First Danny referred to both of them as not human, and now there was a Council? A Council of people who were not human? "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, I am doing the job I was told to do, the job that got me from New Jersey to Hawaii, to stay close to my little girl, and I don't care about the human Governor trying to look good for her electorate, but I am not getting involved in political power games among the Fae. It's bad for my life expectancy and I'm planning on reaching at least 500, okay? My little girl is going to have her dad to look after her for a very long time."

His knees buckled, and Steve sat down hard on Danny's lumpy sofa. "No, really, I mean I don't know what you mean. What is a Fey? What are the Council? Why did you call me not human? If you're not human, what are you?"

"Jesus." Danny studied Steve's face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Absolutely."

"But you look at least early human thirties."

"I'm 34. I killed my girlfriend when I was 17. I kissed her. I kissed her until she died." Steve clenched his fists. He'd never been able to admit the truth to anyone, but now that he had, he couldn't stop. "I can't control myself. Every couple of months I have to kill someone. I drain their energy. I'm a serial killer. I can't stay in Hawaii after I find my dad's killer because it would be too risky. There aren't enough people here. I only accepted the taskforce job because you made me. No one's ever been able to say no to me. No one. And I don't know how you did it."

"Wow." Danny ran a hand over his face, apparently having followed Steve's babbling. "Jesus, I never met a Fae who didn't know what it was. Okay, Fae 101. You are not human. You are a Fae. And your parents are irresponsible idiots, forgive me the disrespect to the deceased, because they should have told you what to expect before you hit puberty.

"You sound like you're an incubus, a male who needs sexual energy to survive. You're not a serial killer. That's just how you were born. Food can only sustain your body for so long before you need sex to replenish your strength. If your parents had done their job properly, you'd know how to get the energy you need safely."

"But why? Why was I born this way?"

"It's simple biology. Fae are born when two Fae have a child. A Fae and a human will only produce human children. Fae abilities can vary widely though, so it's possible that neither of your parents was an incubus. Well, technically, it's possible that your dad wasn't an incubus. The female term is succubus, so that's what your mother would have been called. Unless they were both something completely different."

"My sister Mary?"

"Would be a Fae. She's never mentioned anything to you about having unnatural abilities?"

"No." Had Mary gone through her life secretly killing people too? Or did she have some other ability? Steve had avoided talking to her after his discovery about himself, and for the first time he wondered if the same guilt of feeling like an unclean person kept her from calling him.

"Fae do hide our abilities, because attracting human attention can be dangerous, but your family takes it to an extreme. Are you sure you weren't adopted?"

Steve stood abruptly. He'd heard as much as he could process right now. "We need to concentrate on finding Hesse."

Danny gave him another of those considering looks, like he was taking Steve apart and seeing to the center of him in a way no one else had ever managed. "Okay, let's find Hesse first."

They focused on the case, Danny killing a gun dealer, Kono trapping a human smuggler, Chin being badass with a shotgun, and Steve finally shooting Hesse in the chest, while Steve tried to not wonder whether it was his parents' fault that he was so messed up, or if they weren't his biological parents at all.

With the case finished, Steve and Danny sat on Steve's lanai, drinking beer. Danny talked more about the Fae, non-humans with special abilities who were assumed to be mythological creatures, how they lived within but slightly separate from the human world, about their separation into two groups, the Light and Dark.

"But that's enough about our culture for now." Danny polished off the last of his beer and sat the bottle down, standing and taking Steve's hand. "Because you're an incubus and from what you've said, you've never been able to have sex, which is surely a crime against Faehood."

"Danny, I can't. I'll kill you."

"I'm Fae, Steven. Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Steve let himself be pulled up and guided to his bedroom, not protesting as Danny stripped off his clothes, stroking and admiring his body, murmuring equal amount of praise for his muscles and his tattoos, before pressing him down on the cool cotton sheets. The sensation of being naked and vulnerable was too much, and he tried to bolt, but Danny shoved him down.

"Look, just – " Danny sighed, stripped off his own clothes, and turned into a wolf. One second a man was standing in front of Steve, and the next a tawny wolf sat on the floor, its tongue lolling from its mouth, its eyes unexpectedly intelligent.

"You're a wolf," Steve said stupidly when he changed back.

"A werewolf is the correct term. I'm not human and you won't hurt me. Now would you relax?" Danny asked, crawling on top of him.

Despite the demonstration of Danny's fae nature, Steve kept his eyes open, vowing that he'd pull back at the first hint that Danny was in distress. Everything felt so good, the way Danny was touching him, the energy, that welcome energy that he craved as badly as a drug, flowing from Danny into him, even as Danny opened him up and thrust in.

He came before Danny, feeling like he'd shake apart from the pleasure, his arms clenching at Danny's back, his thighs squeezing Danny's hips, still watching for any sign that Danny was in trouble. But Danny only gasped and swore before collapsing on Steve's chest, breathing deep, but still alive.

"Oh God," Steve repeated over and over, holding Danny's sweaty body close. For once, he hadn't overwhelmed a lover who became his victim; Danny had overwhelmed him.

"It's just wrong that it took you so long to find out you were Fae. Because if there's anyone who should be enjoying really good sex, it's an incubus."

"Are you volunteering for more?" Steve asked, daring to run his hands down Danny's spine, curving his palms over Danny's ass. He liked being naked in bed with another person, someone he couldn't hurt. He liked it a lot. He wanted more.

"Any time, babe. Any time."

"You don't get anything out of it. Not like I do."

"I get you, and that's enough. Believe me, a really good orgasm and your incredible hotness are nothing to sneeze at."

Steve pushed Danny over onto his back, and began to explore his pale skin and golden hair, his compact, muscled body, avidly watching Danny's every change of expression and listening to his gasps and moans. He'd never experienced such a profound sense of wonder and joy at knowing that he could fully share himself with another person. There were still many mysteries in his life, but at last he had a chance to solve them, and someone he could love.

He wasn't lost anymore.

~ the end ~