I've had the idea for this story bubbling in my head since I wrote Unity. I've never been to Hawaii, but when I finally manage it - well, rather like Danny here, there'll be one place I'll have to visit to pay my respects.

This story has spoilers for 1.08 Belief, and follows on from the events in Unity. I hope you enjoy it.

Acts Of Sacrifice

Alone in his office, Danny Williams sat studying the photo in his hand with mixed emotions – pride, affection and grief, combining and conflicting with each other as he traced his fingers over Meca's face.

So this was all he had left now. Memories of an all too brief friendship, and this poignant photograph.

Meca. The first friend he'd made when he'd arrived on these islands, so angry, and bitter, and alone. The friend who'd welcomed him into his family. Helped him to adjust to life so far away from his own.

Memories flooded his mind now, as tears flooded his eyes. Nights in front of the TV, arguing good-naturedly over baseball, and hockey, and football. Quieter moments when they'd discussed Billy, and Grace, and shared fears for their futures that only fathers could understand.

Now he was gone. Even now, two days after his funeral, Danny still couldn't believe that he was dead. Not just dead, either, but murdered. Betrayed, and killed, by one of his own, in the most brutal way imaginable. Shot and left to burn in a damn luau pit. Damn it, no-one, least of all a cop, deserved to die like that.

Finding his killer had eased some of his grief, and anger, but… no. No, he still hadn't found closure. Even with Steve's support, and Chin's, and Kono's, he just couldn't put Meca's death behind him.

Steve had tried to help, of course. Throughout this traumatically personal case, Steve had been there. Listening to him when he needed to talk. Leaving him respectfully alone when he needed its privacy. Hovering protectively over him, as the best big brothers always do. Just like Meca had done.

Right on cue, the softest knock brushed against his door, and Steve strode instinctively to his side – squeezing his shoulder, his eyes full of the compassion of someone who'd felt the same pain.

"Hey, Danno. You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Danny nodded, smiling shakily back at him - too grateful to see his friend to argue over that nickname. He owed too much to Steve right now to fight over something so trivial. Had so much else on his mind.

In so many unlikely ways, Meca and Steve had so much in common, and… yes. Yes. That was it. Fresh purpose surged through him now as Danny sat up, meeting startled eyes with a hopeful smile.

"Actually, could you… uh… do me a favour?"

"Name it."

TO THE MEMORY OF THE GALLANT MEN

HERE ENTOMBED AND THEIR SHIPMATES

WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES IN ACTION

ON DECEMBER 7, 1941 ON THE U.S.S. ARIZONA

Standing respectfully in front of that poignant inscription, Steve had to admit that he was surprised. Of all the places that Danny could have asked him to drive him to, he'd never imagined this.

Danny Williams was five thousand miles from home, and every mile of that distance hurt him. A city boy, born and bred, he was Jersey through and through. He hated these islands. Yet in his profile, Steve could now see why he'd come here. Why he'd needed to come here. Acts of sacrifice, however small or however great, had to be recognized. Respected and remembered.

Accepted.

The lost souls in the waters beneath them had given their lives, in ultimate courage, for freedom. Danny had given up everything he had to come here, for Gracie, and – yes, now he understood. Before he said a word, Steve knew why Danny had asked, so quietly, to come here.

"Meca brought me here, just after I arrived. Not because I asked him to, just… well, because."

A pause to compose himself, a sadly reflective smile, as Danny brushed his fingers over the memorial.

"I didn't understand why, at first. I was too angry to appreciate it, but… yeah, that soon changed."

Intrigued by the stress on that single word, Steve kept tactfully silent, and just nodded instead – resting his hand on Danny's shoulder, patiently waiting, until he was ready to ruefully continue.

"By the time we left… well, I wasn't quite such a pain in the ass."

He was smiling now, tears of affectionate memory replacing the grief that had blighted them before. So was Steve as he, too, recalled the quiet chat they'd had after Meca's memorial. He'd teased his friend then, after that revelation. But it wasn't appropriate to remind him of that now.

Instead their eyes met again, carrying the unique understanding that had forged an equally special bond. As if invisibly joined, they stepped back and, in perfect unison, saluted the memorial in front of them.

There were still so many difference between them. But in this sacred place of remembrance, there would always be unity.