Okay, this was going to be longer, but I'm not one-hundred percent sure on the second part, yet. So, I decided to update what I liked and work on what I didn't.

With that out of the way: I thank all who reviewed and alerted, it was much appreciated. And for all my readers, I hope you stick with this to the end.

I have another emotional scene in this chapter. This one, however, I like. Which is a first for me because I usually hate my emotional scenes. As I have stated in last chapter, I believe I suck at them. You guys may agree or disagree, whichever, but that is what I think. But I am insecure mess half the time, so... yeah.

Anyway, please enjoy, I really hope to hear what you think (as much as I love the emotional scene, I fear younger Steve is a little OOC), and if you see any other problems let me know.

So, I'd better go. See ya in chapter six

PEACE...

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Steve

Present Day…

I leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to boil, looking down at a box of tea bags. I couldn't decide what kind I wanted, wasn't even sure I actually wanted tea. It was a habit I had picked up from my mother. She would make tea when Dad was late, when she had a lot on her mind, or when Mary and I were working her last nerve. I usually made tea when I had a lot on my mind.

I couldn't help thinking about Danny and Grace last night. The way he had calmed her down. It made me wonder what things would have been like if Dad hadn't sent Mary and me away. Would he have been that way with Mary and me if Mom hadn't been murdered but merely died in an accident? I guess I'll never know.

"What are you doing?" A voice asked and I turned to see Grace staring at me in the kitchen's entryway.

"Making tea," I responded shrugging.

"Can I have some?"

"Sure," I replied. "What kind do you want?"

"Mommy liked green tea," she said quietly averting her eyes from mine.

"Do you want green tea?" I asked curiously not even sure I had that type. As healthy as it was, I didn't like the taste of it.

She shook her head, "I like lemon."

"Well, Gracie my friend, you're in luck. Because that is my favorite, too."

A small smile spread across her face, reminding me of when I had first met her, as she lifted her head to look at me. "Really?"

"Really. My mother liked it, too," I said pulling two pouches from the box. I headed over to the kettle as it whistled, taking two mugs from the cabinet.

"Where is your mom?" she asked following me.

"She, uh, she died," I answered pouring water into the two mugs.

"Like mine?" came the whispered response.

"Yeah." I dropped a tea bag in each mug and carried them to the table. I sat one in front of Grace as she sat down.

"Were you sad?" she asked as I sat next to her.

"Well, yeah. I mean, she was my mom." Okay, I wasn't comfortable talking about my mother to Danny or Chin or anybody else who asked. But, for some strange reason, it was effortless to talk to Grace about it. To an eight-year-old. I guess it could be because she knew what it felt like to lose a parent. Or, maybe children were just easier to talk to.

"I'm sad," she whispered looking down at her hands, but not before I glimpsed the unshed tears in her eyes.

"Nobody blames you for that," I said quietly. "In fact, it would be weirder if you weren't sad." She nodded slowly. "But you know who else is sad?"

"Danno," she responded without hesitation, looking up to meet my eyes. "He talks in his sleep."

"Does he?" I hadn't known that. I don't make it a habit to watch my partner sleep. Not only would he probably give me an hour long rant about personal boundaries and how creepy it was to watch people sleep. He would add it to the already extensive list of crap I did that he would whip out at anytime I have pissed him off. I would much rather avoid that. But Grace was his kid, he wouldn't call her creepy.

"Yeah," she said slowly blowing on her tea before taking a sip. "He said Mommy's name this morning before I left him alone. Do you think he misses her?"

"Yeah, honey, he does. I mean, they may have fought a lot, and they might not have been married anymore, but your mom and dad still loved each other." She nodded glancing down at the table.

"Do you think… think Mommy's mad I didn't get to say good-bye?" a single tear fell down her face.

"No, Gracie, no. She loved you, and I think she would have understood why you couldn't say good-bye." My vision blurred for a second, and I averted my eyes from her gaze. I took a drink of tea just to do something. Her questions were hitting a little close to home for me.

I may have been sixteen when my mother died, and a little more familiar with the mortality of others, but I had had a similar thought. But, instead of figuring my mother was mad because I didn't get to say good-bye, I just wanted to be able to say good-bye…

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1992…

Mary called me the day before. I hadn't been home and when I called back Grandma told me she had been out. My sister and I didn't get alone, sure, but I still wanted to speak to her. I tried twice more, today, but she still wasn't home. In frustration, I slammed the phone down and walked toward the stairs.

I sank down onto the bottom step, resting my elbows on my knees. I glared at the floor, trying to keep myself from thinking. But it was a futile attempt. In the silence all I had to do was think.

Mary and I had been fighting the day Mom died, over something stupid. I couldn't ever remember what it was anymore and it had only been two weeks. But she had asked us to behave when she headed toward the front door, had asked me to rake up the grass clippings after Dad finished mowing the lawn. I hadn't even acknowledged her, hadn't even said good-bye. I was too busy trying to prove to Mary that I was right.

I hadn't even said good-bye. I buried my face in my hands, trying and failing to staunch the tears that fell. I hadn't said good-bye, hell I couldn't even remember my last words to my mother. And when she had been dying all I could do was complain to Mary about her music.

"Steve," I heard Uncle Marty's voice. I felt him sit next to me, felt an arm across my shoulder.

"I…I never said good-bye," I choked out shaking my head. "She…she deserved a… a good-bye."

"It's okay, buddy," Marty said slowly, his voice soft. "It's okay…"

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Present Day…

"Uncle Steve?" a voice said yanking me back to reality. "You okay?" Grace asked standing a few inches in front of me, a worried look on her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied shaking my head to clear it.

"Danno spaced out like that once," she said taking a seat again. "He walked into a tree."

"He walked into a tree?" I asked trying to keep from laughing.

"Yeah, when we lived in New Jersey," she responded nodding. "Mommy had to call an ambulance because he had been bleeding. A lot. And he had been taking funny."

"Slurring his words?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah," she said nodding again. "And he got really white when he moved. Mommy kept telling me to move away, before he puked, but Danno kept mumbling 'not gonna puke' over and over again." She glanced down at the table, her eyes far away for a second, before she continued, "I remember the ambulance showing up and Mommy yelling at Daddy when he was put inside. She said he shouldn't be watching trashy skunks. But I didn't see any skunks." Her eyebrows were furrowed. She was obviously trying to figure out what 'trashy skunks' meant.

I knew what her mother meant. Danny's spacing out had nothing to do with a memory and more to do with a girl. The 'trashy skunk' in question was probably in her early twenties, wearing a mini-skirt, and doing something that caught Danny's attention. No wonder he ran into a tree.

"Was Danno okay?" I managed to get out around my chortling.

"Yeah, just a couple stitches and a concoction…"

"Concussion," I supplied slowly.

"Yeah, concussion," she corrected herself. "And it's not funny." But she couldn't help the smile that threatened to appear. "He was really hurt."

"Yeah, he was. And I'm sorry for laughing." I still couldn't help the chuckle. She threw me a very Danny-ish glare and I stopped. "Sorry."

We fell silent, finishing off our tea. As I collected the mugs, carrying them to the sink, Grace asked, "Can we go to the beach?"

I glanced down at her, giving her a curious look, and then said, "You wanna go to the beach?"

"Yeah," she replied nodding. "Mommy used to take me. We'd collect seashells and make a sand castle."

"You wanna make a sand castle?" she nodded. "Then let's go make a sand castle."

"I'll go change." She started to leave the room but stopped. "What about Danno?" she gave me a curious look.

"Why don't we let Danno sleep? I'll leave him a note."

She was uncertain for a second, but finally nodded again and rushed out of the room and up the steps. It was the first thing she had been excited about since Rachel died, and I'm sure Danny wouldn't mind if I took her to the beach. Especially if he saw that look in her eyes again. I know I wouldn't…

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Danny…

I am not a morning person. I hate waking up early, hate getting woken up early. Matthew learned the hard way not to wake me up. He had a split lip for a good week and a half. However since meeting McGarrett I have been woken up at all hours of the day and night, gotten so addicted to coffee that I can barely function without a cup in the morning, and pretty much forgotten what it felt like to sleep in past seven-thirty.

But today. Today, when I woke up, the sun nearly blinded me. I wasn't used to the sun being above the horizon. I ran two hands down my face, turning my head to keep myself from going blind, and found the bed empty when my vision cleared. Empty? Wait, where was…

"Grace," I called scrambling out of bed. I stumbled out of the room, checking the rest of the upstairs, "Grace!" I ran down stairs, nearly tripped over my feet, and headed into the kitchen. "GRACE!" I was close to panicking until I found a note attached to the fridge.

Danno,

Went to the beach. Grace is fine. Don't freak out,

-S

The beach? What time was it? I checked my watch, my eyes widening when I realized it was a quarter to ten. No one bothered to wake me up. Or, I don't know, wait until I got up. I may hate being pulled from sleep, but when it involved my kid…

I headed out the back door, just as McGarrett, Grace, and Kono were coming back from the beach. Steve and Grace were dripping wet and sandy-the latter carrying a metal bucket-while Kono carried a surf board

"Well, look who's awake," Kono said, when they were in my hearing range, flashing me a smile. "I was banking on you sleeping all day."

"What time did you leave?" I asked curiously, ignoring Kono's quip toward me.

"About eight," McGarrett responded walking past me. "Grace asked if we could go to the beach. I didn't think you'd mind." Gracie loved the beach. Of course, between her mother and me Rachel took her to the beach more. The beach was their thing. I guess, in a way, it reminded her of Rachel and she probably felt closer to her mother there.

"And they ran into me," Kono said quickly, setting her board against the side of the house. "I asked where you were." She leaned in so only I could hear her and whispered, "I mean you haven't had a surf lesson in a while." She smiled again. The last time I had a surf lesson I may or may not have freaked out when a piece of seaweed touched my foot. I may or may not have thought it was a shark. And that is all I am saying on the subject

"What did you do, Monkey?" I asked crouching down to her height.

"Uncle Steve and I built a sand castle and we collected seashells and we went swimming." It was the most animated she had been in four days. I, begrudgingly, admitted McGarrett had had a good idea in taking her… Even if it was stupid on his part not to verbally ask me.

"That… that's great," I said flashing her a smile. I stood up, sparing McGarrett a quick glance, before looking down at the bucket and asking, "What type of shells did you get?" Grace handed me the bucket and lead me to Steve's patio set. I took a seat, listening as she rattled off the shells she collected while simultaneously showing me. I wondered how long this would last before she sunk back into her shell, again. Because I knew she wasn't out of the woods, yet. It had only been four days, emotions still stirred close to the surface. I was just afraid what would happen when they started leaking out…

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P.S. I wrote the last scene because I want Grace to bond with Steve. When the time comes for Danny to chose between Jersey and Hawaii I want him to struggle with the decision. I was thinking about making it a pairing between Danny and Kono, but I am iffy on that choice. If anyone has an idea I would love to hear it.

Now, I really have to go.

Bye...