Hello! This is my first ever Hawaii Five-0 fanfic! I have been bingeing the show since June and just got to season 8 where Eddie comes in. I had this great idea to write a one shot from his perspective (I love writing from a dog's perspective if you've read my other story that crosses over with A Dog's Purpose). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I used the translator online for the title, so I hope it's right.

Ka mea a ka ʻīlio hihiu
(What the Dog Knows)

I knew from the moment I met him that he would love me. I was in great pain, so much pain, and he was there until they took me away. His touch on my head was very comforting. I think he also knew I was in mourning at the loss of my friend and partner. I don't remember much else until I woke up again and found myself on a table. My lower half was bandaged, but the pain in my heart was greater. I whined. Where was I?

"Hey, buddy," a voice whispered, and I looked to see him again, bent down to my level. His hand on my ears was gentle and kind.

I whined again.

"You're okay," he promised. "I have to get back to work, but I wanted to see you when you woke up."

I gave my best smile, and it must have worked because he smiled back. I thumped my tail on the table.

"Good boy, Eddie," he said, giving me another rub and then a kiss. "You're such a good boy."

...

I had wanted justice, and I was given it. I had learned that my new friend's name was Steve, and he was hanging onto my leash as we waited to bust down the bad guys. I always got excited when I went on a bust. I still missed my last friend a lot, but Steve's presence was helping me. I wanted revenge, and I knew he was going to give it to me.

"Everyone pat the dog before they go in," Steve ordered. I could see the skeptical looks from some of the men, one large man in particular. I think his name was Lou. He seemed afraid of me. When it was his turn, he touched only one of his fingers onto my head (it was more of a poke really), muttering to himself at how insane this was. I appreciated Steve's order because he was making me a member of his pack, and I wanted to be in his pack. I didn't want to be alone. They finally set me loose, and I found the bad guy, the guy who got my friend killed. I found great pleasure in taking him down. I got a lot of congratulatory pats and kisses when it was over. Even Lou came and acted like he had loved me from the start. I was apparently the only dog he would ever love. Bless him. He smelled like pizza.

...

Steve let me sit near the casket that held my friend. I never understood why human's buried their people in the ground. I felt very sad inside because I knew my friend was in there, and he should be free. There was a huge smell of sadness coming off of everyone, and it made me whimper. From where I sat, I could feel Steve's love for me. I knew he wasn't going to let me be alone. I didn't want to be with anyone else. I had made that decision.

With my revenge complete, I wondered what my future was going to hold. When the sadness was over, Steve took me to his truck, and he talked to some people while I waited. He came back and looked at me square in the eye and said:

"You're coming home with me, buddy. They let me keep you."

I smiled, and he smiled back. I had a new human, but I still missed my old human.

...

I spent the next couple of days in heartache. I missed my friend, my owner. I knew Steve was trying to make me feel better, but I was still sad. After a while, I couldn't stand it, so I left. The thought that Steve would be upset I left crossed my mind for a second, but it didn't stay there. I walked all the way to my friend's "grave" and got comfortable on it, my legs splayed. I could feel him under the ground, begging me to save him. I wanted to save him, but I knew I'd get in trouble if I dug him up. Something just seemed to tell me that. After a long time, I smelled Steve coming. I heard him kneel behind me, and I whined. His hand was on my head, stroking me.

"I know, buddy," he said. "I know."

Then he sat down next to me and let me mourn my lost friend. The thing was, I could smell a sadness from him too, like he had lost someone as well. We had something in common, him and I, and it made me feel assured that we would get along just fine.

Weeks Later

I had gotten very used to the routine at Steve's place. His friend, Danno...or Danny, came over a lot. Sometimes he brought his small people with him, and I got to play. Charlie was a rough houser while Grace loved to pet me and give me treats. I loved them. Charlie especially liked it when I gave his face a wash. When there were larger gatherings with all of Steve's friends, I got lots of attention. Lou was a lot warmer to me, especially since I saved his life the day he reluctantly poked my head as he passed. Steve's one friend, Dog, was so into loving me and letting me lick his mouth that Steve seemed concerned. I had liked what Dog had in his mouth, though. It was tasty. I had never met a human called Dog before. He certainly didn't look like a dog. It confused me a little. I especially liked Kamekona because he always had treats in his pockets for me. Flippa too. Jerry was fun to tease, and the new kids (young adults really), Junior and Tani, they would get on the floor and play with me too. Although sometimes I think they just liked being close to each other. They both had that kind of sweaty, nervous smell about them when they were together. Even with all this happiness in the house, I could tell Steve was still sad.

...

I was digging around Steve's closet one day (I know it was wrong, but he has so much good smelling stuff in there!), and I found something near the back that had a different smell to it. I tugged on it with my teeth, and what they call a "sweatshirt" came out. It is appropriately named as the people tend to sweat in it a lot. Anyway, this thing smelled amazing, and I knew it was a girl human scent not a boy's. I carried it out to my basket and curled up with it. Something about it was comforting and wonderful. I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to find Steve standing above me looking at me. I sensed something was wrong.

"Where did you get that?" he asked me. I cocked my head back at him, unsure of what he meant. I got it from his closet, didn't he know? I waved a paw in the air at him, knowing he thought it was cute.

"Let me see that," he said, pulling it out from my grasp. I thought he was playing a game, so I lunged.

"No!" he shouted, the shirt going up even higher out of my reach. I danced on my feet, ready to play.

"Not a game," he said sternly. "No."

I harrumphed. I wanted to play. What was so special about this shirt? Steve walked away with my new favorite shirt (mostly because I couldn't have it), and I chased after him. He went up to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at it. I shoved my face onto his lap, sniffing hard. Throw the shirt!

"It was hers," he said after a moment. I stopped grinding my face into his knee to listen. Her?

I made a noise in my throat.

"Catherine's," he answered, as though he knew what I had asked. "My ex-girlfriend."

Ohhhhhh.

"She left to do work for the CIA," he went on. "I almost proposed to her, and she said if I had asked, she would have said yes. I lost her, and I really miss her."

I whined. I knew what missing people was all about. It hurt.

"Lynn is great, don't get me wrong, but I still miss Catherine," Steve sighed. I could tell. We dogs know more than people realize. I rested my head on his leg then, and he reached to pet me. The ear rubs were so amazing. My eyes rolled and my tongue lolled.

"I still think about her, you know? I think about what could have been. Sometimes it hurts so much I can't breathe," Steve said. "I've never told anyone this before. I always let on I'm fine, you know? But there are times I'm not fine."

Keep scratching. Ohhh yea.

"She would love you. I wonder if she ever regrets walking away, you know? I try not to read into things or overthink things, but sometimes I wonder about that."

I bet I'd love her too. I was in pure bliss right now with the scratches. If she scratched like he did, I definitely would love her. Then, the black box thing he always carried made it's trilling noise. He answered it, and I knew our scratch time was over. He got up, and I slid off (very reluctantly). He hurried around getting ready to go, and I stood watching. He put the sweatshirt up out of my reach and gave me one last pat before leaving. "Be a good boy," he said. I was a little indignant. I'm always a good boy. Good Boy is my middle name. He left, and I stood watching him drive away. I wished I could ease his pain, the pain I could smell in him over this Catherine. Maybe one day I could, just like he eased my pain.

So what did you think? I don't know if I will continue it or if I will leave it as a one-shot. Anyway, thanks for reading! :)