A/N: This is the third part of what was a one-shot. :-) Follow-up to "Perspective" and "Second Perspective".

Thanks to honu59 for beta-reading.

Hawaii Five-O does not belong to me, I'm playing in the sandbox! No copyright infringement intended.

Rite of Passage

I stand in front of a full-length mirror, making sure that my long blond hair is just right under my cap. My friends are behind me, laughing and hugging each other. This is a big day for us – our high school graduation.

I have family from all over in attendance – my mom, my stepdad, and my little brother, who is now twelve. He's almost a teen, unbelievable. He'll be doing this, too, before we know it.

An aunt and uncle have flown in from the mainland. I gaze down for a moment and remember my great aunt. She was more of a grandmother to me, a one-of-a-kind person. She passed away a couple of years ago. But I smile, knowing that she's looking down upon us, along with my dad.

I only have photographs and fleeting memories that come and go. When my brother had to have his tonsils removed, I found myself feeling very nervous at the hospital. My mom told me why. It was because of the last time I really saw my dad. I was only two when he died.

Then there's one of the most important people in my life – my uncle. Not by blood but by heart. He often reminisces about how we bonded at my dad's funeral. He has told me so much about my dad over the years. It's as if he is still alive, at least for me. His eyes dance every time he mentions my dad's name. Yet, there's sadness behind the stories and memories. He misses my dad terribly, never mind that it's been fifteen years since he died.

One of my friends manages to get my attention. She puts a lei around my neck. It's made of blue and white plumerias, the same kind my mom and I placed on my dad's headstone a few days ago. My heart nearly explodes. I'm happy, sad, thrilled, grateful, and nervous all at the same time.

I'm glad to be leaving high school. I know what I want to do with my life: be a helicopter pilot. I'm also sad that my dad isn't here. I'm sure he would try to talk me out of my choice of profession but my uncle says otherwise.

"Your dad would be so proud of you," he told me when I visited him at his beach house last year and I told him what I wanted to do. At the time, he was out on the patio, painting.

"But wasn't he old-school?" I asked.

"So what if he was?" There was a twinkle in my uncle's eyes.

I shrugged.

My uncle chuckled. "He wasn't as old-school as you would expect. He believed in the goodness of all people. And it didn't matter to him whether you were a man or a woman. We're all capable of the greatest dreams and the worst nightmares."

I sat by him, looking out to the surf, allowing the words to sink in.

"He never lost his humanity. That's one thing I always admired about your dad." He put down his paintbrush and gazed at me. "He also believed in hard work and that nothing, nothing, comes easy."

I nodded. I had known what I wanted to do since I was seven years old. That's when I was kidnapped by a group of petty crooks. I didn't know that at the time, only that they took me far from my home. I don't remember much about it because they gave me some juice and then I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I was on a bed in a shack but I didn't know where. I wasn't tied up so I carefully stood. I sneaked to the door of the room and peered out. No one was moving. If I recall correctly, one of the guys was actually snoring!

Silently, I crept out of the room and made it to the front door. Once there, I ran as fast as I possibly could. Granted, that wasn't very fast because I was only seven and I was short! But I ran anyway.

I made it to a dirt road and realized I was out in the middle of some cane fields. There was a truck approaching with its headlights on but it wasn't the middle of the night. The sky had started to lighten; so thinking back, I would say it was early morning.

The truck stopped and an older Hawaiian man got out and asked why I was out there. I answered and he told me to get in.

He drove me to the main house of the plantation where the owner met me. She called the police right away and next thing I knew, a blue and white helicopter landed on the property.

I watched the landing in amazement. My uncle jumped out and ran to the house.

His tears were evident as he reached down and scooped me into his arms.

"You're our most precious jewel," he whispered in my ear when I hugged his neck.

He swept my hair out of my eyes and became serious. "Did they hurt you?"

I shook my head, "No. I'm okay."

He cried some more and then said, "You are your father's daughter." He then carried me to the helicopter.

I sat on his lap and he held me close to his chest. I remember hearing his heartbeat as we lifted off the ground. The steady rhythm lulled me into sleep.

Before long, we landed where my mom and stepdad met us. The look on her face told me that she was so relieved.

The first night I was back home, I listened to her and my uncle talking.

"What would you have me do!?" my mom cried out while she paced in the living room.

"She's home and she's safe," my uncle assured her. "Do you honestly believe that you'll be safer somewhere else!?"

"I don't know." She stopped pacing and began sobbing.

"Please," my uncle held her shoulders from behind, "don't take her away. I didn't know how I was going continue after …" he voice trailed off for a moment, then returned, "but thanks to her, I have a reason to go on."

They hugged for several minutes.

"Besides," he pointed out, "where else would you have every cop on the force out looking for her?"

My mom nervously laughed. He had a point.

All of them had been out searching for me and they didn't give up until I was found.

"Ready!?" My friend beams while we make our last minute adjustments before joining our classmates.

We line up just as we rehearsed. I lightly touch the lei around my neck before "Pomp and Circumstance" begins playing.

Our march into the auditorium begins and the crowd cheers. I look up and around but can't see any of my family. Even so, I know that they're here.

We take our seats. The ceremony begins with an invocation and continues with various speeches. Then the moment we've all been waiting for: the handing out of diplomas!

As the time stretches on due to our large graduating class, I can't help but smile. I'm the third from the last graduate.

"Thanks, Dad," I whisper and I swear I hear a whisper back, You're welcome. I giggle a bit. This would only happen to me!

It's now time for my row to stand and walk into position. My classmates in front of me receive their diplomas.

Then I hear my name, "Rebecca Ann Clara Williams."