I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: hmmm - 3 chapters my Aunt Bessie ... safe to say, I'm doubling that initial estimate. Many thanks to Phoebe for the sanity checks which have apparently become necessary!
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O
"Daddy? Are you mad?" Charlie asked innocently. He was in the back, seat-belted in his booster seat and turning what looked like a plastic part of some new toy over and over between his fingers. He was dividing his attention between the toy and what he could see of Danny's face in the mirror.
"No. No not really," Danny said, trying to include a smile to reassure his son. To be honest though, if he wasn't exactly angry, he didn't know what he was feeling.
"Okaaaayy." Charlie sighed the word out with a very dramatic lilt, making Danny grin for the first time that week. "'Cause Grace sure was mad ..."
"Oh?" Danny asked, a little confused until Charlie cleared the air.
"Yeah, she was mad about old Missus Morssee," Charlie explained. He'd slaughtered the old woman's last name but Danny's grin wasn't staying plastered across his face for that reason.
"Your sister didn't want to go to the store?" Danny said, filling in the blanks. He glanced quickly in the rearview mirror, catching Charlie's adamant head nod.
"Nope!" Charlie added. "Grace was mad! She wanted to stay home ... and wait for you." His feet were kicking now as he squirmed up higher in the safety seat. "Like me!"
"Well, that's okay," Danny said. He was feeling a bit pleased though. He felt warmer inside. The tiny bit of knowledge about his daughter's sensibilities combined with getting distance between himself and his ex-wife's house was slowly quelling his temper. No, it was more than that. His kids wanted to be with him. Danny smiled at that and he calmed down even more the closer he got towards home. Just like Charlie had done, Danny inhaled long and low, exhaling his own confirmation under his breath.
"Okaaayy," he breathed out quietly. This tiny nit was just that - tiny and already over. And in all actuality, helping someone in need at Christmas would have been the right thing to do and Danny made a face at his own selfishness as he drove. Whomever this old Mrs. Morrissey was, if she'd needed something then he should have been proud of his daughter pitching in to help someone and just maybe not as angry as he'd been. No matter his personal sensitivities over the reasons behind why his ex-wife might be doing something. That was the real issue though, wasn't it? Not Grace having helped someone as much as how or why Rachel might have orchestrated it?
It no longer mattered since Grace was waiting for him at home. It had all worked out and Danny purged those last few minutes with Rachel from his mind. Grace had sounded happy and excited on the phone; her solution with her grandfather had been very smart indeed. Danny grinned proudly; whether she knew it or not, Grace had managed to defuse an iffy situation. But as he glanced in the rearview mirror to check on his son, Danny's happy moment dimmed.
"When is Uncle Steve coming home?" Charlie asked when their eyes met. He yawned and blinked tiredly, but his question stood even if he was starting to fall asleep to the motion of the car.
"I'm not sure, buddy," Danny replied in all honesty. "Soon ... maybe soon." His eyes fell back to the road as he drove, hoping his uncertain answer would be enough, at least in the short term.
Trying to celebrate Christmas at Steve's, without Steve, was going to be ... difficult. It was another worry he'd begun to dwell on. On the heels of that worry, he wound up quietly cursing himself as Charlie quieted and began to doze more heavily in the back seat. It wasn't going to be as hard on the kids as much as on him. In fact, Danny had tried to stay away from the house as much as possible. The rambling structure was far too big and empty to rattle around in. Its nooks and crannies - which he'd never even noticed before - were dark and ominous. They made Danny feel insignificant and just ... more lost ... more alone.
Plus, the place and its emptiness gave Danny more time to think and that was never a good thing. For one, Danny knew that Steve had been watching him rock Charlie back to sleep in the living room just before leaving for Korea that night. Danny had sensed it and had been afraid to turn around. He'd been afraid that Steve would see the devastated look on his face and Steve ... Steve didn't need to shoulder that before a mission. The man had a job to do and Danny couldn't be responsible for heaping any of his own emotional issues on top of things which required his partner to be focused. Danny was far from being that stupid - that selfish.
What Danny privately berated himself about - all his fears and worries - they ran far deeper than this one mission. He wished his head would stay on the night when Steve left. That he could stay within the quiet of a multicolored haze of dimly lit Christmas lights. Instead, his brain insisted on beating him up over other nightmarish memories.
Korea and Danny's own experiences there. Of the jungle and the thickness of its heat and humidity which made taking a single breath of rancid air near impossible. Of Steve, before Danny had truly recognized his own feelings for the man. Of Steve ... and of desperately searching for him ... finding him beaten and sick - but very much alive - in the rear of a military vehicle. Of how it had gotten worse later with Jenna Kaye and her forced duplicity.
Korea again. Nearly losing Steve ... again. And by that point in time, Danny had known how much he'd loved Steve even if neither of them had actually said the words.
So even now as he drove home with his son in the backseat and his daughter waiting for him, Danny wound up there. Replaying images, some real and some contrived, playing mental games with himself. Conjuring up bad thoughts which had not only kept him up every single night since Steve had left, but lurked like the demons they were during the daylight hours, too.
Danny hated what he was doing to himself with every fiber of his being. He hated where Steve likely was; he hated not knowing. Danny only wanted it all to be over ... back to normal ... because this feeling of abject helplessness was surely going to kill him.
In the silence of his car and no matter how hard he tried to fight it, Danny found himself mired into that mental death-trap. He argued it and failed a little bit more because, when he got to the house, Danny merely thumbed the ignition off. He couldn't quite bring himself to get out of the car. For a few solitary minutes, he stared blankly at the front door and its happy holiday wreath.
"Get out of the car," Danny chanted under his breath. He felt numb though even if Grace was inside waiting; even if he had his kids and there was no "at least" to add to that wonderful fact.
Nevertheless and with a weary sigh, Danny closed his eyes and leaned forward. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel and argued himself to gather the energy to get moving because just maybe ... Steve would call today.
H5O* H5O
"Get out of here now, Jun! He can't see my truck!" Steve barked the command as he checked the time since Rachel had texted him about Danny leaving her house with Charlie. "T minus eight minutes you two! Hurry it up!"
"Yes, Sir! Just one more piece, Sir!" The younger man snapped out as Steve heard him peel and rip one final and very long piece of gray duct tape off the roll. The large patch-worked box Steve was hiding in rocked a bit as another layer of reinforcement was smoothed over one of its many seams.
"Almost done, Uncle Steve!" Grace added. She was laughing - they all had been laughing the entire time actually. The hasty assembly of one sad-looking but sturdy-enough box which could hold one tall and very lanky Navy SEAL was a comedy unto itself. But they'd gotten it done, albeit with zero time to spare.
"Almost isn't good enough!" Steve complained. "Hurry! Junior ... come on!" Inside the box, he too was doing the same thing with his own roll of duct tape. Reinforcing seams, damp spots and covering up holes in the cardboard he'd been basically shoe-horned into.
"Leaving now, Sir," Junior said. The younger man was laughing and as breathless as Grace, extremely pleased to have had a hand in the pending surprise. "I'd love to see the video, Sir ... Grace ... this is going to be great."
"Definitely," Steve agreed. "Thanks Junior ... I couldn't have done half of this without your help!"
"Happy to, Sir," Junior replied with another laugh. "Good luck!"
"Thanks Junior!" Steve heard Grace giggle. "Okay. Uncle Steve? I think ... I think that's the best we can do and I'm almost done with the wrap," she said as she took over where Junior had left off. He sensed her moving around the box, adding tape and smoothing out the wrapping paper in spots.
"How's it looking?" he asked.
There was a pause and another giggle. "It looks pretty good! This is going to be so great!"
Her job was to gift wrap the box which she'd been doing as each section had been completed. Steve had reams of Christmas paper and Grace was having a grand time using it all up. He was pleased with the results so far - at least what he was imagining them to be. With the sun shining in through the large lanai glass doors and his cell phone light on, it wasn't all that dark where he was sitting, but he was blind to the outside world. But ... and Steve wiggled his nose and scrunched his face in distaste as that faint odor of spoiled milk and maybe even raw eggs ... or some old meat of some kind ... wafted inside the small, semi-darkened space. That was ... annoying at best.
It didn't really matter though. Even with his knees drawn up to his chest as he sat inside a cardboard box which he'd quite literally been duck-taped and Christmas-wrapped into, Steve was comfortable enough. If he was selfish for a just a minute, he was tired and this was the first time he'd had a chance to relax since landing that morning. It didn't matter that he'd only taken his boots off and that he was in desperate need of a shower. The odor in the box was far worse. Besides, he could wait on all of that because quite simply, it would happen later. He had time to spare for showers, shaves and changes of clothes. He'd rather be precisely where he was at that very minute, feeling tired and a bit less than 'fresh', then being stuck on a distant military base, still waiting for the transport. It was amazing really. If he hadn't acted when he had, he'd still be there with his team, still be unable to get warm. He'd still have that sick, uncomfortable feeling inside his chest where he couldn't get the image of Charlie's sad, frightened eyes out of his head. Things were much much different now though.
"Grace?" He called out from his hiding place. "What are you doing?" He might not be able to see a thing outside of his tiny realm, but he could sense her moving about the living room. Near the large box he hid in, then by the Christmas tree, and sometimes by the fireplace mantle. She'd been busy with other things since getting there, too. The homey scent of freshly brewed coffee percolated through the house, combined with the pleasant odor of lit pine-scented candles. She'd just begun to play holiday tunes; the beat happy and maybe the music just a bit too loud. Steve didn't care though. It all just ... fit.
"Uncle Steve?" The direction of Grace's voice told him that she was standing near the Christmas tree. "I got Charlie's present out of the trunk of the car ... it's under the tree now." There was the sound of a satisfied sigh followed by a girlish giggle.
"It's all so perfect!"
"Thanks Grace," Steve said. He smiled to himself, enjoying her laughter. She was right: things couldn't have been more perfect. Grace even had Charlie's letter to Santa which the little boy had given to his sister in confidence. The one asking for Uncle Steve to come home as a Christmas present. Grace had promised to mail it. Instead, she'd kept it hidden in her diary. A happy accident that now would serve a very good purpose.
Steve didn't know what to think of that one once he'd read it. He didn't know how to react at all. But Grace's next idea to tape the letter to the front of the box after wrapping Steve inside was utter perfection. Charlie would recognize his own letter to Santa ... and he was a smart kid. He'd know right away that something important was about to happen ... and then? Then, he'd be anxious to unwrap the box!
Steve grinned as he imagined the boy's excitement, knowing he probably looked foolish. He couldn't stop smiling inanely to himself though. He didn't want or need anything else in his life and their surprise - Grace's, Danny's and Charlie's - was gift enough for him.
"Danno's going to flip," Grace said for the thousandth time. "He's been so sad ... and tired. With you gone, he worked nonstop. Every time I called him, he was at the office. Working. I think he might have even gone in this morning. I know he was there last night and I bet he solved every cold case on Oahu."
"Did he?" Steve sobered briefly at this unexpected update. "Did he, Grace?" If true, this wasn't funny at all. Even Grace's glib comment about her father having probably solved every cold case in Hawaii? No, not funny at all. Steve hadn't anticipated Danny throwing himself into his job, but why wouldn't he have? Especially if Rachel had taken the children on him for a prolonged period of time?
"Grace?" Steve asked when he was met with silence. He fidgeted, an unease unsettling his sense of excitement. "Gracie? What's up? Is he here?" He heard a sharp inhale of breath and then got the confirmation he was hoping for.
"Yeah! He's here ... dad's here! " The smile was back in her voice and Steve rediscovered his, too. Danny was home ... Steve was home ... and he'd fix it now. They all deserved this time together and nothing was going to get in the way.
"Umm? Uncle Steve? He's just sitting there ... not moving," Grace announced in confusion. "Why isn't he getting out of the car?"
"So? Go get 'em tiger!" Steve laughed to her as he anchored his arms around his knees. With one final deep breath as he heard the front door open, he settled in and began to control his breathing, all the while smiling like a loon.
~ to be continued ~