Steve slapped for his phone as it buzzed from the nightstand. The room was dark; he hadn't meant to nap this long. The air was thick with the smell of the ocean. Waves crashed. The water was unsettled, like it was chewing on a nagging problem. He wouldn't be able to swim with such a strong current, but if someone was calling this early, they likely had a case.
He hit speaker phone. "McGarrett."
"Uncle Steve?"
The sweet voice echoed as if from a well, disorienting him. He rubbed his eyes as he stared at the caller ID, vision blurred from sleepy eyes.
"Uncle Steve, are you there?"
He swam back to reality. He wasn't on Oahu. There wasn't a case. "Gracie?"
"You okay?"
She sounded impossibly grown up and worried about him.
He cleared his throat, but again couldn't speak. He felt a ton of bricks on his chest. He hadn't told her goodbye.
"Did I wake you?"
Scratching his head, he shook the last tendrils of sleep from his mind. He needed to focus. This was Grace. One of his most important people.
"Yea, but that's okay. I always have time for you, sweetie." He smiled at her worry now. She reminded him of her dad. Danny – he suddenly thought of Danny, and everything went white for a few seconds before he blurted. "Everything alright?"
Steve sat up in bed, more awake now. He needed an answer. Sweat ran down the back of his neck. It was suddenly muggy and hot in his room, and this house only had ceiling fans. Who rented a place without AC? A masochist like him.
"Danno's fine, Uncle Steve."
Grace read his mind.
"That's good." Steve replied.
"Fine as he can be." She said with a huff.
Wait. His breath caught.
"Don't worry."
"Don't worry?" He repeated her words without thinking.
"He's getting therapy. He promised. Plus Uncle Lou's making him go for work."
Relief washed over him like the first cold wave. Therapy was good. Steve knew he needed it, too. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't. Grace's next words hit him hard.
"Uncle Steve, why is Danno upset with you?"
"Gracie, he told you that?" Steve picked up his phone and held it to his ear. Somehow Grace felt closer. He wanted to hug her.
"No. He didn't have to. Every time I mention your name, he changes the subject."
Closing his eyes, he fought for control. Danny being difficult aggravated him. He didn't want to say anything he'd regret. This was Grace – Danny's precious daughter. She would always be a kid in his mind. Didn't matter that she was in college and living on her own.
"It's complicated, Grace."
He could hear her eye roll in the groan she gave him. "That's what Danno says when he doesn't want to tell me something. Like with my mom. I ask if they're together again, and I get - it's complicated, Grace. Blah, blah, blah."
Steve almost laughed at her impersonation of her dad as he climbed out of bed to look out the window.
"Grace." He didn't get a chance to finish his thought.
"I'll save you the trouble, Uncle Steve. I don't know what's happened. But I know it's a lot. Dad's stubborn." She paused. "More stubborn than you. He won't tell me anything."
"Grace, wait."
She cut him off. "I saw the crime scene photos. I saw my dad's blood and the dead men."
"You what?" Steve asked, heart in his throat. He might have puked if he'd eaten anything since the day before. He had to grab hold of the nearest thing, which was a wicker chair near the window. It didn't take his weight and slid. He almost fell. "How did you-"
Grace continued undeterred. Like this was a normal, everyday topic. Her dad's blood. A crime scene where he'd been held captive. The bodies of the guys who hurt him. Steve's head spun. He strained to focus on her words.
"Someone leaked them online. I saw everything."
"What the fuck."
He said it out loud. Grace didn't react. She kept talking.
"Yea, they were on some sub forum on reddit. Will found them."
Will saw them, too. Steve leaned on the window sill and pressed his face against the glass.
"Grace, I'm sorry."
"Wasn't your fault. You saved his life. If you hadn't found him when you did –"
"You shouldn't have seen that."
"I know what you and my dad do for a living, Uncle Steve." She answered, adding. "I'm not a kid."
"I know you're not a kid, Grace. If your dad finds out about this…" A crush of emotion assaulted him. He had to sit down. The wicker chair protested but held him. "Does Danno know you saw those pictures?"
The sound she made gave Steve a smile of relief and fondness. He loved her attitude, her courage. And they shared an understanding about Danny. One that came from loving a man who was prone to emotional outbursts because he felt so deeply.
"Do you know me at all?"
This came felt like an accusation. One he deserved. He hadn't spoken to Grace in months. But that happened when kids grew up. He knew this. He'd read about it in a parenting book Danny kept in the bathroom.
Grace kept scolding him. "Do you think I'm crazy? Why would I tell Danno?"
Steve felt like she'd slapped him, yet he welcomed the rebuke. Was thankful for it.
He sighed and said. "Good, that's good."
"I don't know what's going on between you two." She repeated her earlier thought and added. "You better fix this, Uncle Steve. And soon. I gotta go."
How could he tell her how badly he wanted to fix this?
She ended the call before Steve could say anything more.
/././
Steve hadn't looked at the crime scene photos. Lou had handled most of the paperwork. It helped give him a clean break. He'd rescued his friend, captured the perpetrator and then, he'd left the island. Taking the emotion out of it made it easy. Clinical. Like the rest of his life.
No messy explanations. No tense meetings with the governor or DA.
No watching Danny struggle yet again.
But now, he had to see the photos. Steve needed to know how much Grace had seen.
He would erase them. Expunge them from existence. No assholes on reddit had the right to comment on them. His team wasn't fodder for crime porn. He'd have – he stopped – brain slamming into a brick wall. Another tragedy. Another loss. Toast.
But this loss hadn't hit him the hardest. It wasn't his burden to carry like a lead weight.
Danny had blamed himself for the loss of their hacker-informant turned friend turned millionaire.
He thought about Danny's losses.
His partner, Grace.
Meka.
Mattie.
Toast.
His Marshall friend, killed by Rick Peterson.
Danny knew loss, too. He knew pain. Why was he still a cop? He'd taken it all in stride. Tucking the hurt into some hidden corner of his memory. He was just as good compartmentalizing. How else did he keep going?
Steve thought back to Danny wanting to retire. He'd teased him about it. Mostly because he didn't want his partner to leave him.
And yet Steve had done just that.
He'd left Danny.
Shit.
And it hit Steve.
They were so entwined now. This ohana he'd created where he'd had none. How could he run from them? He'd convinced himself it was because he didn't want to hurt them. Yet, the damage was already done. Years ago. He'd let people into his life and they got hurt. That's how the story went.
But no – this was the wounded child talking. Steve had built a life. Something he was proud of and treasured. A prize for all those years of isolation and hiding behind classified this or that. He'd fooled himself into believing he'd outgrown those demons.
Now, he was running. Like his mother had done. To protect her family. He was acting like Doris. Steve fell to his knees. He understood why she left. Why she barely stayed around. Why she'd hurt him and Mary and dad. She thought they were better off. That she could protect them by leaving. Like he was doing.
In the end, his mother's choice had screwed them up worse. Her trail of lies had never brought her back home. They never saved anyone.
All she had to do was get on a damn plane. No questions. If she'd just come home. For good. All would have been forgiven.
As he so badly wanted to be forgiven.
But Steve wasn't ready to go home. Not quite.
