I do NOT own anything, but the plot.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

I do not promise to go easy on anyone from here on out!

Nalo a loaʻa

-loosely translate to "lost and found"-

CHAPTER EIGHT

Danny hated how uneasy he was when he pulled up at Steve's house. This was a prime location in all of their lives. Even after Steve's death, he would bring the kids here, a way to keep them close to the memory of their surrogate uncle and a reason to keep his best friend's memory alive.

It was safe to say the team didn't all come here together, something about gathering in the McGarrett family home without Steve felt wrong to them, but they all continued to look after the house as if Steve were on the mission Charlie was convinced he was.

Forgoing using the key, Danny studied the empty drive as he approached the house and remembered seeing Steve's blue Silverado still parked outside the office when they had left to head to Kamekona's shrimp truck. Rapping his knuckles on the door, Danny waited, and he hated every second that ticked by. This was another reminder that things had really shifted in their lives – he never had to knock. Thrusting both hands into his pockets, Danny started to whistle, swinging on the spot as he tried to fill the nervous silence building. After a few more minutes, he knocked harder this time and resumed the same process of waiting. When no answer came, he tried the door, hoping it would be unlocked, but was disappointed when the handled wouldn't budge.

With a heavy sigh, Danny stepped back away from the main door to cast a glance at the garage, wondering if Steve was working on his dad's old Marquis, but he quickly spotted the doors locked tight. Gulping, Danny took the only route he knew to take without letting himself into the house and decided this was equally as bad – he made haste for the side entrance of the house.

"Steve?" he called out as the backyard and beach came into full view. "Hey Steve! You out here?"

"I called the governor, said I was taking the rest of the day," Steve defended, seeing Danny coming into view.

Slowing enough, Danny thrust his hands back into the pockets of his pants, bag of food hanging from his wrist, before he stood still, a good few metres between he and Steve. It was now he finally saw the real dishevelled exterior of his best friend. Steve's face looked a lot gaunter than he had ever remembered, the dark circles smudged his eyes while the beard heavily peppered his jawline.

Had he really missed it all this time?

"Yeah, I got the call on my way over," Danny acknowledged, his tone remaining flatter than usually. "Kamekona told me he brought you home."

"Yeah, wanted to show me the new helicopter locations, but had to disappoint the big guy." He rubbed the back of his neck as he reminded himself that Danny no long did social visits. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Danny could swear he had seen a burst of hope had skimmed across Steve's expression, but it wasn't long lasting and burnt out almost as quickly as it had sparked. With military precision, Steve sunk back into the ghost he had arrived back as.

Danny hated himself for missing it sooner. Every jagged edge of Steve had been there all along, but Danny's anger had blinded him, and he hated every fibre of his being for ignoring what was in front of his eyes from the moment he saw Steve in Denning's office.

"Er," Danny started, struggling for words that were normally so easy. Suddenly the weight of the food in his hands reminded him and he used it to his advantage. "I brought food… the big guy told me you left this."

"I'm not hungry."

Steve didn't say anymore, just headed for the back door of his house.

"Got me fooled," Danny derided and swung towards the house, following his partner. "Good gust of wind and you'll be gone."

As if nothing were wrong, Danny followed Steve's every step, and he would've done the same with or without Steve's actions because he was downright hungry and if this was really happening, he would do it with a full stomach.

"Lunch," Danny coerced, presenting two takeaway tubs from the yellow plastic bag and pushing one across the kitchen island at Steve. "Eat."

Steve's jaw became rigid, all of his muscles following suit, but he quickly caved and took the container. Danny wasn't sure if Steve was doing it to placate him or because he really was hungry, but seeing Steve go to the drawer and produce two forks and prepare to eat was enough for Danny to quieten for a moment.

In palpable silence, both men ate until Steve stopped and looked at the blonde detective across the kitchen. In quick succession, he put the shrimp dish down and Danny took note that Steve had barely eaten more than a few spoonsful of the food.

Admittedly, Steve couldn't bring himself to eat when the elephant in the corner of the room was threatening to suffocate him at any given minute.

"Is Grace okay?" Steve asked, his guilt washing over him again as he refrained from using his nickname for her. "I had no idea she'd be there, Danny, otherwise I would have be-"

"Grace is a mess … again," Danny replied bluntly, and he saw the way Steve physically recoiled. "I got her calmed down enough. She knows not to talk to Charlie until I have, and we'll suss the rest after the fact."

Rubbing his hand over his face, Steve felt how truly tired his skin was becoming, bristled with too much stumble and worn with fatigue. He felt every second of his age and then some right now, and he ridiculed himself for it.

"You should go and be with them," Steve mentioned, pushing Danny to leave.

After all, they deserve your time more, he wryly thought, turning his gaze away.

"The kids are with Rachel," Danny argued lightly. "I'll go round there after I'm done here, check on Grace and see if I can tell Charlie." He took another bite, calmer now talking about the kids than he had ever been. "Right now, he happily thinks you're on a mission somewhere halfway around the world."

Steve smiled weakly at that thought – technically he was on a mission, and a costly one at that.

"But even when they know everything, I can't have you just coming back into their lives yet, Steve... they need to work through this and what it means for them. Then it's up to them seeing you. On their terms. Not yours."

For Grace that could be never in this lifetime.

"That's fair."

Steve was a liar as he said those two simple words.

It didn't feel fair to him because while this was a hard time, he just wanted his family. It felt unfair that he was being punished for something he hadn't had a hand in – but no one knew that did they? No, because Steve decided to keep that all to himself until the right time.

He now saw how foolish that was because the right time would never exist.

"Finish that and go see your kids, Danny," Steve ordered Danny lightly.

Without saying another word, Steve pushed away from the counter he had been leaning on and headed outside. Usually he'd invite Danny, ask him to come and settle out on the beach with him where they'd sit in companionable silence, but things weren't like they used to be. In all honesty, he'd rather Danny left and made sure the kids were okay than remain here.

Steve had barely counted to ten when Danny plopped himself into the other chair on the shoreline and for a moment Steve fooled himself into believing that he wasn't caught in a riptide.

What worried Steve most, was how quiet Danny was.

Danny Williams didn't do quiet or calm, he was all words and flailing hands. He was chaos to Steve's calm, it's why they worked so well together as partners. Did. It's why they did work so well together as partners.

"Thought I told you to leave," Steve recognised, not even moving his line of vision from the shoreline.

Danny laughed as he settled. "Never listened to you before, why break a habit of a lifetime?" he asked, hoping Steve would take the rhetorical tone he used. Looking right, Danny watched Steve for a moment – he was super focused on the sea and it left Danny with a pang of disconcertion. "You're looking as if the ocean holds all the answers, Babe."

The words spliced the air sharply, eating into the ever-building tension between them. He hadn't meant to use the term of endearment on Steve, but it was all too natural to fall back into his old ways with the SEAL that he couldn't stop himself.

"Trying to decide my next steps, that's all."

In all honesty, Steve knew what he wanted to do, but it was different to what he needed to do. After overhearing Grace's response to him being alive, Steve realised that a simple apology would only be the start but would not even begin to fill the cracks he had created.

"Huh," Danny started, twisting back into his seat, staring out at the same span of sea Steve was lost to. "You could go back to the navy... you always did want to retire gracefully and in full glory."

"Yeah," Steve agreed silently.

He would if he could.

It pained him to think that Danny willingly offered the navy to him as his first option. It further affirmed that he had lost his place in Hawaii.

"Don't sound too enthusiastic about my grand idea."

"Yeah, no, you're right I could." Steve sat up, pushing up from his seat and ignored Danny's grumbling at Steve's inability to sit still. "I mean... I would if I could."

"What's that meant to mean? I would if I could."

"Nothing," Steve bluntly shook him off as he retraced his steps back into the house. "It's just not an option."

"What happened?" Danny enquired, following him. "Did they finally have enough of your Super SEAL moves and retire you for you good?"

Although Danny was being jovial, Steve had to brace himself against the counter the moment he made it back into the kitchen, every muscle tense.

"You'd really rather I reactivated and switched out of the reserves and left?" Steve asked, trying to keep his hurt locked down. "I guess that's what the team would want, too. It'd make sense."

"No! What, no, Steve ..." Danny tried, but fumbled with his sentence. "Look, you have options and I just think now is your chance to look at them objectively. The team will do with or without you."

Steve's heart slowly thudded in his chest, he felt stupid for always thinking his team would at least have him back.

"The team are doing well without me," Steve murmured sadly. "Maybe leaving is the best option here." Hanging his head, Steve let every thought run free as he tried to work out his next moves. "I can't go back to the navy, but I can try."

Danny heard Steve's words, albeit whispered, and he realised the SEAL was talking to himself, trying to work out a strategy. He knew he should let him work this out, but Danny was fed up with sitting on the side-lines, clueless to the bigger game he had unwillingly been a part of.

"You keep saying that you can't, but I'm yet to see a good reason why you can't."

"Danny, just leave it."

Steve hadn't accepted the fallout of his injuries from that day at the warehouse. He was still as in denial now as he was back then, but he had to work out what his next moves would be, or nothing would change.

Apparently, his behaviour did nothing to settle Danny who reacted in fury.

"No, how about for the first time in your god damn adult life you do the mature thing, and you use words and talk to me," Danny began, his face reddening slightly. "I gave you an option… it wasn't good enough. You've already decided the team can do without you as well by the looks of it."

"I didn't say it wasn't good enough…" Steve muttered, ignoring the last part of Danny's newest rant.

"Then what is good enough for you, Steve? You have plenty of options from where I'm standing … considering how well decorated you are and your rank. You have more options than any one of us on the team, options that would take you anywhere you want to go."

"Look I have nowhere left to go ..." Steve started, trying to keep his tone in check and his boiling anger under control. "I was given a direct order to protect you all, and it cost me a lot more than any of you think!"

Danny scoffed in sheer disbelief, but the moment he started to roll his eyes, Steve felt himself snap.

"You think this was easy for me?" he asked, his voice sharp and full of derision. "That I laid low and chilled for five months? Or ran around getting some cheap thrill playing Rambo? Well, I didn't. I wish those were the stories I could go along with. So, don't you dare say this was easy for me!"

Steve had felt his anger simmering away under his grief, but he hadn't intended Danny to take the brunt of it all. After the way Danny had been with him, Steve didn't want the fallout to capture his best friend, not when it was evident he was struggling the most.

"You've all assumed that I had a say in all of this … that I chose to do this to you, but that's the funniest thing about all of this … I didn't have a say in how any of this panned out, regardless of what idea you have of me. All of this has been …" And suddenly Steve felt vulnerable under his best friend's scrutiny. "Tough. It's been really tough," he admitted quietly.

That was just the tip of the iceberg, but Steve felt the weight of Danny's gaze and he just wanted to crumble, let it all out and let his partner know that not one moment of this was done under his command.

But how could he?

Cath's words came back to haunt him, just like they had nightly. Cruel. She had surmised that what had happened was a cold, calculated move on his behalf to play hero and save the day. She had guessed he did it to leave them all in his wake so he could fix a vendetta and come out triumphant. And even though the team hadn't said it, the cold attitude they radiated with told him they thought similarly. Only Cath was brave enough to say what she really thought.

"Tough, he says, like he knows the real meaning behind that." Danny spoke like they had an audience, using his usual dramatic hand motions and sarcasm. "You wouldn't know the definition of that if it was handed to you." Danny was still obviously bitter, unable to let Steve have a moment of respite. He was so caught up in the wave, he was blinded to everything Steve had dealt with in his life. "If it's been so tough for you, what have you exactly been dealing with, Steven? The headache of not putting Franklin down for good yourself or the fact you couldn't singlehandedly save the day for your Ohana?"

The hint of boredom that Danny's words were muted with forced Steve to shake his head and he decided that it was now or never, but the true burn of condescension was a final straw for Steve. He was fed up with no one knowing, of being the kicking post for the grief Danny was feeling. Ripping his shirt free of his body, Steve turned to the side.

"You want to know what I've been dealing with?" Steve started, his voice harsh. "This. So, take a good hard look, Danno, because believe me, it's a permanent reminder. I can tell you now, I definitely didn't fake that part or have it easy or forget about anyone or anything."

Danny knew exactly what Steve was referencing and the marred skin mirrored exactly what he remembered. He saw how mottled scarring disappeared under the waistband of Steve's blue board shorts and he could only imagine the damage underneath them. Unable to look away, he took in the incision marks over the top of burn scars and his heart sunk slowly into his stomach, the acid eating away at it almost immediately.

"I lost everything and then I lost even more to go with it."

"Steve…"

"You know what..." Steve started and began to put his top back on. "Just leave... I can't do this, right now."

It was more that he didn't want to do. He didn't want to see the pity in Danny's eyes, he didn't want to argue with Danny about this, and he didn't want to unearth everything when he didn't have the mental capabilities to stop himself falling apart completely.

"I'm not going anywhere," Danny remarked. "Steve, c'mon, talk to me… you have me-"

"I have you?" Steve cut him off, bitterly laughing. "I don't have you, Danny, and I certainly don't have Five-0. I don't have the fucking navy, either. So really, Danny, what do I have here to live for?"

In all honesty, Steve felt abandoned.

Everything he had come to care about and rely on was gone and while he acknowledged that the team had no choice in it either, they had a choice to accept him back, but no one, but Lou, wanted to give him a chance to argue, so he didn't.

Steve watched as his best friend's mouth dropped opened only to close seconds later and repeat the process. It would've been a moment he would have gloated on if this had happened over five months ago. Instead, he couldn't even take joy out of seeing Danny speechless, words failing him. Looking away, Danny felt himself find the only words he could, nothing like he would have used before and he hated them the moment they found air.

"I'm here for you... whatever," Danny tried, but was stopped when Steve laughed.

"You're here because you owe it to the others. Well, you don't, okay?" Steve admonished, his bitter laughter subsiding but the contempt remained. "You can go back to the team, back to your team, your partner, your Ohana, and you can tell them that you did your bit. That Steven J McGarrett is doing just fine!"

What a heap of bullshit that was. Even Steve couldn't ignore it himself, but he also couldn't ignore the pain flaring in his chest at just being by his best friend when he felt like they were worlds apart.

"Is that what you think?" Danny asked, his frown becoming more pronounced. "That I drew the short straw and had to check up on you?"

"Well, didn't you?"

"No, you schmuck! I'm here because we're worried about you," Danny argued, anger igniting the urges of his words. "You're so caught up in whatever this is, right now, that you can't see a helping hand when it's being given to you."

"A helping hand?" Steve muttered, laughing mirthlessly as he tried to take Danny seriously. "Just leave Danny," Steve remarked, unwilling to look at his friend.

Danny wouldn't have been Danny if he had upped and left on command. True to himself, he stood there, unmoved and unwilling to start, but he could see something shift in Steve.

"I'm not going anywhere," he argued, still yet to move even an inch. "Not until we've cleared the air."

"It's clear," Steve lied, his words wound tight on one another. "It's time you left."

Yet Danny didn't listen again, and the longer he stood there, the more Steve felt himself untangle. Every negative thought that had crept up over the last five months was nipping at his ankles, threatening to consume him. Every horror he had seen over the years, every ounce of guilt, every single drop of blood on his hands was becoming more and more prevalent to him and he couldn't cope anymore. Danny knew what lasting reminders he had and Steve didn't want him here out of guilt.

Unable to contend with the pity that Danny was about to show, Steve reacted to the silence, reaching out and taking Danny's wrist in his hand. In one swift motion, he started dragging his friend toward the front door with a brute force he never thought he'd use on someone he called family.

"Whoa, whoa, Steve!" Danny argued, fighting against Steve's hold on him. "Stop!"

"You need to go," Steve ground out.

Uncaring about any pain he was causing Danny, Steve didn't stop until Danny was over the threshold of the house. He didn't care about the detective's protests or his fighting to get free. He just wanted him gone.

Slamming the door, he put another obstacle between them, forcing Danny further away. Steve stood on the other side of the door, forehead pressed to the oak, and mourned the life he had.

Slowly, he sank to his knees, defeated, not caring if Danny could hear him or not.