Thank you so, so, so much for the reviews, the alerts, and the support last chapter. They were awesome and I hope to hear from you again.
This chapter, I have to admit, was a tad challenging for me. I am slowly realizing that emotional scenes are not my forte. I am working on them, trying to make them better, and I hope the scene I am talking about is okay. If not, well I will try to make the next emotional scene better.
I hope you enjoy this chapter, I don't own these guys or this show, and I hope to catch you in the next chapter.
See ya...
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Steve…
Present Day…
Usually, I get takeout for dinner. I am not a very good cook, it's no secret. Mom tried to teach me once, when I was fourteen, but I was more preoccupied with my Game Boy to really listen to her. And Uncle Marty was also a takeout guy, so we usually ate via the yellow pages. In the Navy I usually ate when I could, and that was whatever I had in my pack.
But Danny and Grace… well, Grace (takeout just seemed to be the norm for most bachelors) was used to a home cooked meal. Between Danny and me, I figured we could make something at least edible. Probably should have just ordered pizza.
"Is it supposed to look like that?" Danny asked glancing down at the pan, waving his hand to clear the smoke.
"Um, not according to the box," I said showing him the picture.
"I think hamburger helper needs a guide. You know 'Aiding Those Who Cannot Make Hamburger Helper.' Catchy title, I'd buy a copy."
"I'm calling Chin," I said heading toward the phone.
"Chin? Why Chin?" Danny asked curiously hopping up onto my counter.
"Because he's the only one on our team who can cook," I replied dialing his home phone. It rang three times, his machine picking up. I didn't leave a message, instead dialed his cell. The doorbell rang a second later.
"I'll get it," Danny offered sliding off the counter and heading into the living room.
"Hello," Chin answered his voice coming from the phone and the front door. The front door?
"Really," I said hanging up. I walked into the living room, Chin standing in the doorway holding a paper bag, Kono behind him.
"Something smells… interesting," he said waving his hand across his face, his nose scrunched up. "Steve, you didn't try cooking did you?"
"Danny helped," I replied pointing a finger at my partner.
"I barely helped," Danny protested throwing his hands up. "I know I can't cook. I'm just surprised you haven't figured it out, Steve. I mean, the last time you cooked you left your steak unattended to make out with your girlfriend…"
"We agreed never to speak…"
"…Seven seconds later the blanket catches on fire," Danny continued on as if I hadn't said anything.
"Seriously Danny, shut up," I said quickly
"…and I get a phone call from the hospital, asking me to pick you up because you managed to burn yourself and Cat." Chin and Kono laughed, I threw them both a glare, gave Danny a grumbled, "Thanks," and walked toward the couch.
"Hey, where's Grace?" I heard Kono ask as she and Danny followed me. Chin, I can only assume, went into the kitchen to salvage dinner.
"She's upstairs," Danny replied taking a seat next to Kono on the couch. I moved past them and sat on the arm of the recliner. Danny was no longer smiling, all traces of humor gone from his face and eyes.
"How's she doing?"
"She's, uh, she's taking it all in stride," Danny answered looking down at his hands. If by 'taking it all in stride' he meant completely shutting down then sure, she was totally taking it in stride. But I didn't say that, it would have been rude, and Kono could already read the real answer in Danny's eyes. Plus, I wasn't exactly a stranger to 'taking it all in stride' either.
"Hey, her mom just died. She just needs some time," Kono said sympathetically, giving Danny a small smile. That's what Uncle Marty had told me about my dad. That he just needed time...
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1992…
"This is only temporary, Steve," Marty said as he led me upstairs. "Your dad just needs some time." I didn't respond, just readjusted my bag and continued to follow him. He stopped outside a door, opening it to reveal a small, cluttered bedroom. "Sorry about the mess. This was short notice. But I plan to get all this stuff out soon."
I nodded, stepping past him into the room. There was a window, that was a plus… I guess. "So, uh, I'll be downstairs if you need anything." I nodded again. "Okay." And he was gone, closing the door behind him.
I walked across the room, throwing my bag onto the army cot shoved in the corner. I sat down next to it, burying my face in my hands. I didn't want to be here, I didn't want to be forced to pack up and relocate to a place I didn't know. I didn't want to have to make new friends, go to a new school, and adjust to a new life. It wasn't fair and at the time I hated my dad for doing this to me. I hated him for splitting our family up, for sending Mary and me thousands of miles away from home.
I had never been so angry in my life, but what could I do? I was here, Dad was there. And I had tried calling him when the plane landed, but he didn't answer. Avoiding his kid. Some father, huh…?
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Present Day…
Chin and Kono had left after dinner, leaving dishes scattered across my table. It had been a quiet affair, dinner, filled with mostly one-sided conversations from Kono. She just wanted semi-normalcy, even for a night, but eventually figured out it just wasn't going to happen.
"You don't have to clear the table," I said when Danny started collecting dishes, Grace having already wandered into the living room.
"It's called being polite, Steven. You should try it," Danny responded carrying the plates into the kitchen.
"I'm polite," I said following him.
"If you say so," he muttered sitting the plates on the counter. He pulled the trashcan out, and proceeded to scrap excess food off each dish.
"I have a dish washer that can do that," I pointed out gesturing to the thing.
"Maybe I like doing dishes. Did you ever think of that?" he stacked the plates again, putting them in the left side of the sink. He walked away from the sink, heading back to the table. He started collecting glasses, careful not to spill their contents on himself. "Besides, don't you have to go to bed? You do have an early start tomorrow. I mean, don't you fight off giant squids before going into work?"
"Oh, so now I'm Aquaman?" I shook my head once, watching as he started scrubbing plates clean. "I'm not going to work tomorrow."
"Come again?" he asked sparing me a quick glance.
"Kono, Chin, and I decided, as a group, that if you're taking some time off, then so are we."
"You? Taking time off? Yeah, I bet you don't last a week," Danny responded setting the first dish on the counter. He looked around for a towel, obviously wanting to dry it, but I already beat him to the punch.
"I am fully capable of taking some time off," I said grabbing the plate off the counter and drying it before putting it away.
"Sure you are," he said nodding once. He handed me a glass and grabbed another plate.
"I am," I stated putting the glass away and waiting for the plate. He just nodded and continued to do the dishes.
"Isn't Jameson going to miss Five-0?" he asked curiously picking at a stubborn piece of food.
"She's gone to the mainland for some business, and we don't have any high profile cases. We figured HPD would be fine without us for a week. And if anything big happens…" I trailed off, drying a glass, only to slowly continue, "Well, Danny, that is why they invented phones."
"Ha ha," he retorted flicking soap at me.
"Hey, watch it. That can make me go blind," I protested wiping the suds from my forehead. Danny just rolled his eyes and grabbed another plate. We were quiet for a moment, continuing with the dishes, when a quiet voice asked, "Can I watch a movie?"
I turned first, Danny copying me, and looked down at Grace whose brown eyes were two pools of sorrow. No eight-year-old should look like that and it broke my heart to see her like that. I glanced at Danny for a second, for once his eyes guarded, and then looked back at Grace.
I shrugged and said, "Yeah, why not. Danno can put it in for you." He gave me a half glare at the nickname, but chose not to comment. "I'll finish the dishes." He nodded and followed Grace into the living room. I turned, cleaning the last two glasses with ease, and dried and put them away. I then turned the sink off, dried my hands, and headed toward the fridge. I took out two beers, set one on the counter, and popped open the other one.
I only had to wait a few seconds before Danny returned, snatching the beer off the counter. He twisted the cap off and downed half the beer before saying, "I'm not used to this."
"To what?" I asked curiously having a vague idea what he was talking about.
"Her. Grace. She's never been like this. Never been this quiet. Usually I can't get her to be quiet…"
"Kinda like you," I muttered before taking a swig of my beer.
Danny glared at me, but otherwise ignored my comment and said, "How did you…? Were you…?"
"Was I like that after my mother?" I supplied for him. He nodded once, finishing off his beer. I took another sip, then a second for safe measure, and replied, "I was mostly angry."
"Kinda like with your dad?" he asked meeting my eyes.
"Not as bad," I replied honestly. "With my dad," I took a breath, "Hesse killed him because I killed his brother. So, I…"
"…blamed yourself?" I nodded. "And with your mom…?"
"I had no one to blame back then. I had been told she died in a car accident. It only took eighteen years to figure out that was a lie." I set my beer down, running both my hands through my hair. "When I figured out she had been murdered, all that old anger came back. But this time, I had somebody to point it at. Or, I did when we found out who killed her." I still couldn't believe it was a fellow cop who killed her and all because he was trying to kill my father.
"But Grace doesn't have that."
"No, she doesn't," I agreed quietly picking up my beer. "But what she does have is you." He averted his eyes from mine. "I didn't have my father to help me through my mother's death. Like I said, he shipped Mary and me away. But you're not going to do that."
"And if I can't help her?" Danny asked me quietly, his eyes locked on his empty bottle.
"Danno, I know you. You'll help her, just like she'll help you. And you know why?" he shook his head. "Because you're her Danno and you love her."
Danny quiet for a second, taking in what I said, then muttered, "You're such a sap."
"And that is why the ladies love me more," I replied finishing my beer. I flashed him a grin, set my bottle on the counter, and headed into the living room.
I hadn't lied to him, I had been angry after my mother died. The first week of school in Wisconsin was pretty much the worst of my life…
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1992…
It was bad enough I couldn't get around the halls, but to get hauled to the principal's office because a kid kept harassing me… I was slowly starting to loath this place. But there I sat, across from the dillhole who landed me here, holding a rough paper towel to my nose. He was worse off: a black eye, a bloody lip, and bruises across his face. That was a plus in my book.
"Steven McGarrett, your uncle's here," the receptionist said just as Marty squeezed past her. He headed toward me and said, "Are you okay?"
"I fine," I grumbled pulling the paper towel from my nose to see if it had stopped bleeding.
"How did this start?" he asked glancing behind him at the other kid. I shrugged, getting to my feet. I headed toward the trashcan, next to the kid, watching as he flinched away from me, and threw the paper towel away. I shook my head at him and headed back toward my uncle.
"Can we go?" I asked ready to just leave. I wanted to go home, back to Marty's, and shut myself into my room/the storage room. It was a lot better than being stuck with people I didn't even know, in a place I didn't even like.
So, after Marty talked to the principal, getting me a week's worth of detentions instead of a suspension, we headed home. Once back at his place, before my foot could touch the bottom step, he said, "You wanna talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about," I said keeping my back to him.
"Steve, I get it. She was your mother…"
"I would rather not talk about her," I replied slowly trying to remain calm.
"…and I know you miss her. And I know you want to go home and have everything be normal again." I shook my head, wishing he would just stop talking, "But it won't."
"Are you done?" I questioned quietly.
"Yeah, I'm done," he replied equally as quiet.
"That's good. Because I know all of that. I do Uncle Marty. I know things won't be normal again, I know she's gone. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." And I rushed up the steps before he could say anything else.
I thought about running away that night, maybe hitching a ride to the airport, using my savings to buy a ticket back to Hawaii. But changed my mind when I tried calling Dad. He didn't pick up, ignored me again, so I left a message. I won't go into details about what it said, but it was probably the most swear words I had ever used. When he got it he'd be pissed, sure, but so was I and that wasn't going to change anytime soon…
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Present Day…
Danny…
I heard her scream. The piercing yell had my heart clenching in panic as I threw the covers off me and scrambled out of bed. I raced out of the room, nearly running into Steve in the hallway, but managed to dodge him as I headed toward her room.
I threw the door open, flicking the light on. Grace was sitting up in bed, her purple hippo clutched to her chest, tears staining her face. I crossed the room, taking a seat next to her and wrapped my arms around her.
"What's wrong?" I asked as she clung to me. She shook her head, burrowing deeper into my chest. "Come on, Gracie. Tell me."
"I…I couldn't find you…" ah, I get it. This was the first night she had slept alone since her mother's death. I hadn't given it much thought when I carried her upstairs earlier that night. I know I should have, she was going through a rough time, and probably had a nightmare.
I was used to her nightmares. They weren't as reoccurring as they were when she was younger, but she did have them occasionally. Usually, if a hug didn't help her, I'd call Rachel. As much as my ex hated being woken up at three in the morning, she would keep her snide remarks toward me down to a minimum and talk our daughter down.
But, this time, I was at it alone… kinda. McGarrett was still lingering in the doorway, looking lost, but I chose to ignore him for the moment. I was a little busy trying to calm my kid down to care what Super SEAL was thinking.
"I'm one door down," I told her rubbing her arm. "I'm not far." She nodded sniffing. I looked up, noticing the lack of Steve. I didn't know where he had gone, at the moment I really didn't care, and figured I'd look for him later.
I gently rocked Grace back and forth, mumbling Let It Be by the Beatles. They used to be Rachel's favorite band-we used to argue over which was better: Queen or them-and that was her favorite song. As I sang, my eyes started stinging and my vision blurred. I felt a tear slide down my face, but I ignored it.
When we were together, Rachel used to sing to Grace when she couldn't sleep. I used to watch her, listen to the song, and try to figure out what she liked about it. I probably should have asked her…
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2002…
"Please, Grace, just go to sleep," I could hear Rachel beg as I closed the apartment door. I had had another late night, third that week, and hated leaving Rachel by herself with Gracie. She had come down with colic, and I had hardly been home to help.
I headed down the hall, standing in the doorway. I watched as Rachel put Grace down, running a hand through her hair. She was frustrated, probably even more so because of my extra hours. I couldn't help it, I was working toward being a detective. I needed the extra time.
"I can't get her to stop," Rachel said suddenly, noticing me in the doorway, giving me a harried look.
I was taken aback for a second, but finally said, "Did you try singing to her?"
"What?" she asked over the crying.
"Um, my mom used to sing to us kids when we couldn't sleep." I crossed the room, picking Grace up from her bed. I gently rocked her and said, "Give me a song."
"I don't know… Let It Be?" Rachel replied with a shrug.
"The Beatles? Really?" she glared at me. "Okay." As I started singing the song, continuing to rock our daughter, I was surprised to hear her cries die down some.
"It's working," Rachel said smiling. I nodded and continued singing. Not long after Grace finally went to sleep.
"You see," I said gently laying her down, "just a little singing."
"You were right," she said with a shrug. "Just one thing…"
"What?" I asked curiously.
"I'm singing next time…"