As always: Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and all the continued support you all give this story. It is always appreciated and I can never thank you enough.

Anyway, I realize this may be shorter than the rest of my chapters, and I promise the next one will be longer.

So, please enjoy, thanks again for reading, I own nothing, I hope to hear from you again, and I'm gonna go.

Bye...

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Steve…

Over the next week and a half, Danny's condition started to improve. Wesley had high hopes he could be out of the hospital fairly soon. Something Danny was ecstatic about (stir crazy didn't even begin to describe him). However, as happy as we were that Danny was getting better physically, it was his emotional and mental condition we, as a collective group, agreed to keep an eye on.

He hadn't brought up anything that happened after Rachel's death, and we followed his example. Even Grace-who had squealed in delight when I told her Danny was awake. She had insisted we go to the hospital the moment I told her, but it was one in the morning and I convinced her to get a few more hours of sleep before we visited Danny. She reluctantly agreed, but I had a feeling she pulled a major Danny and hadn't slept at all.

The day before Danny was supposed to be released I had stopped by the hospital on my way to work, after dropping Gracie off at school, to find Danny trying to get out of bed. Even though Wesley assured us he was getting better, he wasn't ready to move around on his own just yet. And him trying to get out of bed, without assistance, was a bad idea. Like, ripping open his stitches and reinjuring himself bad.

He started to list to the side and I was across the room in seconds, catching his uninjured arm before he could hit the floor.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" I snapped sounding almost exactly like Danny after I did something stupid.

"I've gotta pee," he said grumpily glaring at me for stopping him.

"And you couldn't call a nurse?"

"You wouldn't have," he murmured under his breath as I helped him sit down.

"Yes, and you would have given me shit for it, too," I argued crossing my arms. "Stay, I'll get a nurse." I would have helped him myself, but I had a feeling he'd just tell me to back off. Plus, I really didn't want to help Danny use the bathroom, no matter how indirect the action would have been.

I found a nurse one room over, pushing a cart out the door, and brought her back to Danny's room. While she was helping him toward the bathroom I told him I had to go. He grunted in reply, which I took as a dismissal, and I headed to The Palace.

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Work was surprisingly mellow today. I kept expecting some high profile case but was pretty much stuck doing paper work all day. Or, as Danny would say, getting out of doing paper work, but Kono told me to do my own work and Chin made an excuse about needing more coffee.

In fact, it had been shockingly quiet the whole week. HPD didn't have anything that required Five-0's help (unless we wanted to help an elderly couple talk their neighbors into returning their tools). In a way I was kinda glad for the slow week, I think I had enough excitement for a while. It was the kind of week Danny deserved after he lost Rachel. Not the crap we had to deal with…

I picked Grace up from school that afternoon, after calling ahead and telling the school to have her meet me out front. She was supposed to go to Bridgette's house again, but I opted to duck out a few hours early when I figured nothing exciting was going to happen. Chin had headed out before me and Kono promised to call if anything big came in. I, however, had a feeling we were good.

"Are we going to see Danno?" Grace asked the moment she closed the passenger door.

"Just for about an hour," I replied maneuvering back on the road.

"But…"

"Grace, he's coming home tomorrow. You can see him whenever you want then." She brightened up at that bit of info, and stayed quiet as I drove toward the hospital.

Danny was sitting up, picking at a piece of dry, unidentifiable meat, (okay, maybe it was chicken or roast beef. Meat loaf?) a look of disgust on his face. He put his fork down when we walked into the room, a smile spreading across his face when his eyes landed on Grace.

"Hi Danno," she said moving toward him. Danny gave her a clumsy, one armed hug. When they broke apart she stepped back and pulled her back pack off. "I got an A on my spelling test." she pulled the test from her bag and handed it to Danny.

"Look at that," he said scanning the paper. "Did Uncle Steve help you study?"

"Yeah," she said nodding. "Do you think I can hang it on the fridge?"

"Ask Uncle Steve."

"Uncle Steve?" she turned to stare at me. "Can I hang this up?"

"Yeah," I said without hesitation, "as soon as we get home."

Danny asked Grace about school and as she launched into her day I left them alone. I sat outside the room, checking my messages. I only found two. One was from Matilda:

"Just checking to see how Daniel is doing. I called his mother, in case you did not, and told her what was going on." that can't be good. From the stories I heard about Danny's mom, I'm surprised she hadn't already shown up hollering at me for not calling. "Relax, I told her he was going to be okay and to stay in New Jersey. Though she said she was going to call soon. And, if you let all your calls go to voice mail, I'm sure she's left you a lovely message." the message ended without a good-bye. I already regretted giving her my number.

The second message, as Matilda predicted, was from Danny's mother. Yep, totally regretted giving her my number. "Commander McGarrett, you may not know me but I'm Daniel's mother. I would appreciate it if you call me as soon as you get this. Rachel's mother and I had a nice chat and I am just…' she trailed off taking a shaky breath. "Just call me, please."

I took a breath and hurriedly dialed the number. It rang twice before a familiar voice said, "Hello?"

"Mrs. Williams," I said tentatively.

"Yes."

"This is Steve McGarrett…" I ended up getting a tongue lashing from a worried mother. Something I haven't had in a very long time. It made me miss my own mother.

After Mrs. Williams read me her own version of the riot act-The Mother's Riot Act that only women with children were allowed to recite-she asked if she could talk to her son. I was reluctant at first, I wasn't sure if getting screamed at by his mother would be healthy for Danny, but ended up relenting.

I walked back into Danny's room, handing him the phone. When he gave me a questioning look I mouthed 'your mother.' He rolled his eyes then put the phone to his ear. "Hey, ma."

She gave him a condensed tongue lashing-it wasn't his fault I didn't call-that lasted probably six minutes. Then Danny spent almost fifteen convincing her he was okay; followed by another ten minutes trying to talk her out of flying to Hawaii. When their thirty minute conversation wrapped up, Grace taking a few minutes to talk to her grandmother, it was time for us to go.

"See you tomorrow, Danno," Gracie said giving her father another hug, Danny kissed her on the forehead.

"Love you, Monkey," he called as we walked out of the room.

"Love you more," she called back over her shoulder.

"Love you, too Steve." I turned to glare at him, a huge smile spread across his face. I shook my head and faced forward. Danny really needed to find a new hobby, annoying me was just getting old…

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Danny…

The moment Steve and Grace were gone my smile wilted. I was tired, my arm and chest were bothering me, and I hated the fact that my mother had to get a call from Matilda Parker about my condition. I couldn't be mad at Steve for not calling her; I hadn't wanted my mother to know about my wounds just yet. Maybe after I was up and around, able to show her that I was going to be okay. I hated worrying her almost as much as I hated worrying Grace.

I leaned my head back, closing my eyes. In all honesty, I was sick and tired of worrying everyone. I could see their shared looks when they thought I wasn't looking, knew they were wondering when I was going to bring up Rachel. I didn't see the point, really. I mean, what was there to really bring up? She was dead, I wasn't. It had been her time to go, not mine.

I opened my eyes, snatching the remote off the bed and flipping the television on. What better way to ignore my thoughts than watching mind numbing TV? I flipped through the channels for a while, stopping on TV Land. The Brady Bunch was on. It was the one where the family had a problem, worried about it for ten minutes, then got over it… Wait, that's every stinking episode. Stupid Brady Bunch and their stupid, fixable problems.

I flipped the television off when Mr. Brady sat down to talk to Greg or Peter… Bobby? One of the boys (I think it was the one who banged Marcia) and threw the remote onto the bed. TV sucked anyway; wish I had a book…

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2010…

The plane ride was long, boring, and stifling. I was in the middle, two rather large individuals on either side of me. I had tried reading a few times, but the book I picked up at the airport gift shop sucked. It was about a wizard who had a long, wooden stick and a dog. Besides, I think it was part of a series and I hadn't exactly read the rest of them.

I internally growled, trying hard not to think about my last day in Jersey. My mother had begged me one last time to stay, my father just told me to be careful, and Matty promised to visit as soon as he had time off. Delia called and told me moving wasn't that bad, except for mom's constant phone calls. My other older sister, Lexy, pretty much told me the same thing. I hadn't heard from my youngest sister, but that wasn't anything new. Hannah and I didn't exactly get along.

"Please fasten your seat belts. We will be landing shortly," the pilot's voice said over the intercom. I hadn't bothered to unfasten my belt when the plane took off (not that I needed to, with my cushiony seat partners I would probably have the best chances if the plane went down), so I really didn't need to listen to the warning.

Once the plane landed and we were allowed to get up, I waited until the plane was mostly clear before leaving my seat. I shoved my book in my carry-on, slung the bag over my shoulder, and shuffled off the plane after an elderly woman.

I shoved my ear buds into my ears, turning my iPod on. As Tom Petty's I Won't Back Down started blaring, I stepped off the plane and took a look around my new home. Just as I suspected: too blue, too sunny, too watery, and too… different. But, just as like Tom said, I wasn't backing down. Whatever Rachel was going to put me through, whatever crap she and Stan tried to pull, I was not backing down.

Besides, change was supposed to be good for people… or so they say. But, as I grabbed my bag from the baggage conveyor belt, I couldn't help thinking: Sometimes change can be a crock of shit…