Grinning at the screen, Danny was in his element. Being a dad.

"You know you can always hit up dear old dad with study prep."

"I know, dad. Thank you. You're the best."

He squinted at his daughter. She had something else up her sleeve.

"Alright. Spill it."

Grace laughed and groaned. "Danno."

"Don't Danno me. I know you didn't call just to ask if I knew the answer to that quiz question."

"Did you see where Uncle Steve is?"

The enthusiasm in her voice made his stomach churn.

"Nope, no, uh uh. Don't tell me. I don't wanna know."

"Seriously?" She replied, frowning. "That's so lame."

"Lame? I'm lame?" Danny tapped his chest.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'd appreciate it if you kept this knowledge to yourself."

"Ok?" She replied with a wrinkle of her nose. "But what if he tells someone else?"

"Then he does. That's his business."

"But I have to keep it secret?"

"That's right."

She looked down and shook her head, avoiding eye contact.

"What?" Danny asked.

"Old people are super –"

"Hey, I'm not old."

"Grownups then."

Danny raised an eyebrow before replying, "Uh, Grace, I hate to tell you but you're grownup."

She laughed and he realized his mistake.

"I'll remember that the next time you tell me I'm not old enough to do something, dad."

"Well played," he sighed. "Don't you have studying to do? And it's late."

"It's only nine o'clock."

The look Grace gave made him feel so old. Danny remembered when nine o'clock was only the beginning of the evening.

"Yea, ok, Ms. Grownup. Study hard. Be safe. Don't spend all my money."

"Love you, Danno."

"Love you more, Monkey."

And she was gone. Another dark screen.

He knew he was being ridiculous. But he couldn't look at Steve's location. He was thankful Charlie didn't know about the app. He'd instructed Grace not to tell her brother. He'd only told her about it when she'd threatened not to leave the island after his latest mishap. Because she was worried about him.

Danny roamed the beach til every ounce of twilight was gone, pondering the conflicting emotions he felt. Happiness from chatting with Grace and sadness from so many other things. Then he built a fire in the ring at his feet and studied every flaw in the peeling paint of his favorite chair with the help of the flickering flames. A new ritual to remember his old life. Maybe he'd cook a steak on one of these restless evenings in honor of his best friend.

Dousing the fire, he went inside. He wanted to check his phone. In his need for fresh air, he'd forgotten it on the kitchen counter. The team was working a case as a favor for Duke, but they might need him for something. He bent down and scratched Eddie's head as he walked by the snoozing dog. Eddie wasn't a fan of the water since Steve left. Danny wouldn't comment on the significance of that. Life had changed for all of them.

/././

I could stare at this sunrise forever. Maybe this moment is all there is.

Danny stared at the text. Lost. Dumfounded. He double checked the sender. Steve. McGarrett.

The words didn't make sense, yet his eyes watered. He checked his best friend's location on the phone app. Danny knew right where Steve was. He'd been to this place.

Ocean Grove Beach. New Jersey. Dry town, but fun anyway. Beautiful beach.

He rubbed his favorite scar. The one made by Steve that saved their lives. Sonovabitch.

Danny couldn't help but read the text again.

I could stare at this sunrise forever. Maybe this moment is all there is.

The Steve he knew rarely said those things. When he did. Something was stirring. Like wind picking up before a storm. When Steve was chewing on something emotional, he sometimes gave you warning before lightning struck. You just had to pay attention and heed the signs. Take cover. Harden your heart. Because no matter how good those words made you feel, it was a trap. He was about to blow something up.

He shook his head. That was the old Danny. The one who jumped to the most pessimist, world-ending conclusions. On this day, he took the words for what they were. A comment on the sublime beauty of a sunrise from his friend who was searching for peace.

Something bubbled up in Danny's chest. Steve was in New Jersey. He'd listened to him. And as much as he wanted to say something snarky, Danny held his tongue and basked in the glow.

And then thirty seconds later, his phone dinged again. Steve sent him a picture.

A lifeguard stand. The sun painting the sky over the Atlantic Ocean. Clouds lifting.

Danny's vision blurred. He pushed on his eyes. He would not cry. The big dumb jerk would not control him.

He glared at the bottle of scotch on the counter. No, he shouldn't mix alcohol with his meds. He had a choice. A long night in insomniac hell, beating himself up over a picture of a heartbreakingly beautiful sunrise. Jersey, for god sake. Or he could down a shot, maybe two, of this expensive liquor he'd found in Steve's cupboard. A gift from Governor Denning. A token of their triumphs Steve had tucked away like he was saving it for something special. And damned if Danny didn't want to celebrate something. Anything. Like his best friend going to New Jersey.

/././

Steve knew Catherine by scent.

Jasmine shampoo or body wash. He wasn't sure which. Oddly enough, they'd never showered together. She kept her toiletries in a small kit bag. She was a squared away sailor. Only one time did she ever need a toothbrush. And it sat on his sink for months. Until he tossed it the last time after she left for good.

He also knew Danny this way. Spend enough time in close quarters or on the couch watching action movie marathons, and you get to know someone. Their shampoo, cologne, sweat, bad breath. Danny liked lavender soap, but he didn't use it often. He also wore a cologne Steve could never place. He'd even snooped once for the bottle and received the riot act from Danny. A full-on hands waving scolding. Made Steve laugh to think about it now. Danny claimed he didn't wear anything except on hot dates. Which were few and far between. But Steve sometimes caught a whiff of campfire, pine and something floral. He couldn't place it. The worst, though, was the coffee breath. Danny practically took his morning joe through an IV, and some days, his breath smelled like the bottom of a burnt tire.

But no, that wasn't the worst. Bad breath and sweat were mundane and normal things that Steve relished when things went wrong. There were other smells he willed himself to forget. Fear, anxiety and blood. Especially when it came to Danny.

So that's why Steve's heart skipped a beat when he caught Danny's scent. On the boardwalk of all places. He stood in front of a cheesy jewelry and souvenir shop that also sold cologne. Steve searched the display, sinuses rebelling after a handful of tries.

"May I help you?"

A tall girl in a floral dress smiled at him. She tapped her name tag.

"Yes, Lauren, I'm looking for a men's cologne. I don't know the name."

She studied him, raising an eyebrow before asking. "For you or a gift?"

"For me."

"Old school then."

Lauren turned away before he could question her.

"Try this one." She offered a simple clear bottle with a black label. Then she gave him an almost stern command. "And don't spray it like a firehose."

Steve laughed. She didn't. He took the small bottle and the test strip.

"No, that's not right." He said, disappointed. Like he'd hoped to hit his target on the first try.

They went through four colognes before he found it.

"It's a knockoff – a legal one – but it's about a quarter of the price of the brand name."

"Works for me." He replied. Made sense Danny would buy the more sensible version.

"I'm surprised they still make it. It's from the 80s."

Steve sighed. How did the 80s become ancient history?

"Oh, I see." She nodded with half a smirk. "Nostalgia, huh?"

He gave her a slow nod as he took another sniff. Danny in a bottle. She watched with a soft smile and added. "You never forget your first love."

"Something like that, Lauren. Thanks for your help."

/././

Steve sat on the slim curve of land where the beach melted into a salt marsh. The water was calm as the sun dipped below the surface, setting it ablaze. Even the birds held their breath.

They were a religious experience now. Sunsets. Daily funerals to the dying light. Tears had been shed the first few evenings he was finally alone. These moments he came close to finding that elusive peace. Something in him set along with the sun. Dissolving more of the pain and guilt. Now, he sat in silence, unfocused. Just existing, accepting his own mortality. No longer in denial. Only when he had something to live for did he realize he didn't want to die.

Some days he caught the rebirth, too, but the dawn was no longer his friend. He slept in, forsaking his morning exercise as a ritual shed like skin. He could hear Danny laughing, making jokes about the change. Truth was, his best friend was part of the reason for this transformation. Steve wanted to get better. To be more relaxed and spontaneous. To not be so wrapped up in a quest that had threatened to kill him and everyone in his life. He had to stop and remind himself that the mission was over. His mother was dead. The mystery surrounding his father had been solved. Wo Fat's wife was locked away in a dark hole somewhere. For the first time in ages, he had nothing tying him to anywhere. No orders to follow.

What remained scared him more than death.

He shifted his gaze to the darkening heavens. There was no moon tonight, and the stars were beginning to appear. Bright points of light, dead before they reached him, some said. This fact didn't matter to Steve. He wondered how many times Danny had looked at this sky, the view so different from the beach at home on Oahu. The stories painted in the sky were different here. Searching his mind, Steve tried to remember the constellations his father had taught him. A good sailor knew his stars. Steve had come so far in his career, leaning on the latest and the greatest tech. His heart longed to learn the myths again. Maybe he could teach Charlie.

His chest hurt from a mixture of homesickness and longing, and he reached for the bag at his side, pulling out the bottle of cologne. He popped the cap, careful with the seal, and took a deep breath. He was rewarded with the faintest of scents. Danny.

/././

The picture Steve sends Danny was inspired by a picture from a mid July post by John Entwistle Photography on Instagram.