Danny sat in his office, staring at his phone. He couldn't bring himself to pick Gracie up this afternoon, and he needed to let Rachel know quickly, so that other arrangements could be made. He took a deep breath and dialed.

"Daniel? Everything okay?" Rachel's voice came over the line.

"Rachel," Danny started, and then stopped, his throat closing in panic.

"Danny?" she pressed, "what's happened? Are you hurt? Oh my God, is it Grace?"

He pulled himself together and took a deep breath. "Grace is fine, Rachel. I was supposed to pick her up this afternoon, and . . . I'm not going to be able to. I'm sorry. Can you or the driver get her today, and can she . . . I can't have her tonight, Rachel."

"Okay, Danny," Rachel said, carefully. Danny wasn't falling over himself to apologize, which made her think that perhaps it wasn't anything so simple as just a case running late into the night. "What is happening?"

"Rachel, I . . . I may have hit someone with my car on the way back from dropping Gracie at school this morning," Daniel said. "HPD is working the case . . . the scene . . . we couldn't find, but, there was blood -" he broke off again.

"Daniel, I'm so sorry," Rachel said, horrified. "Of course, Grace will come home this afternoon, and until . . . until all of this is worked out."

"I'm sorry, Rachel, I . . . please tell Gracie I'm so sorry," Danny said. "I just . . . I can't. Not right now. I can't have her."

"Daniel, I understand," Rachel said. "Is . . . what can I do? Anything, Danny, name it."

Danny smiled. "You're sweet, babe. There's nothing anyone can do right now but . . . thanks. I didn't expect . . . thank you."

"Danny," Rachel said, softly. "I never . . . just because we didn't work out, that doesn't mean I don't . . . " She paused, and Danny could tell her phone was ringing in another call. "Danny, I need to get this," she said, reluctantly, "but I'll take care of everything on this end, don't worry. Bye, love."

Danny sat looking at his phone until Steve came to his office door.

"Hey, partner," Steve said quietly. "How are you holding up?"

"Is there anything from the lab?" Danny asked, avoiding Steve's question.

"Nothing more," Steve said. "Hey, we're about done for the day. Let's swing by your place and pick some stuff up for you. Come home with us tonight, Danny."

Danny shook his head. "Just drop me off, Steve, I'll be fine."

"Jax says otherwise," Steve said, smiling. "She says you have a concussion and some pretty impressive bruising from the airbag and the seat belt. Humor her."

Danny looked anxiously toward the open office space.

"Everyone else has gone home already, Danny," Steve said quietly. "I understand. I know what it's like to not want to talk about it. It's okay. But we're not letting you go home alone, either."

Danny tilted his head at Steve for a moment. "Okay, babe; on one condition," Danny said.

"What's that, Danny?"

"I hadn't forgotten, Steven," Danny said quietly, "the date that I was given the case that changed my life; and yours."

Steve swallowed hard. He hadn't forgotten, either, the date September 20th yet another that would be etched permanently in his mind, the date that he stood in the middle of chaos and destruction and heard the gunshot that ended his father's life.

"So, if you want to make a stop today, we're not letting you go alone," Danny continued. "We'll wait in the truck, or whatever you need, but we're not letting you go home alone, either. I watched you throw yourself into taking care of everyone else's needs for too long, Steve. Have you even allowed yourself time to grieve for your dad?"

Steve exhaled sharply. "Danny, I . . . we have an open investigation right now," he said.

"I realize that, Steve," Danny nodded. "I'm at the center of it. I'm not likely to forget. But allowing yourself a few minutes on the way home, to stop at your dad's grave, is not going to interfere with that investigation. If that's something you want to do. No pressure; just a thought."

"Yeah, I'll . . . we'll probably do that, Danny," Steve said. "Thanks, Danny."

Jax appeared in the doorway of Steve's office, her pack slung casually over her shoulder. "Ready to head out, guys? Did you get Gracie situated, Danny?"

"Yeah, Rachel was actually really great about it," Danny said. "I'll grab my stuff."

#*#*#*#*#

Jax and Steve sat in the truck, waiting for Danny to grab some clothes from his apartment. His usual go-bag had been towed away in the back of the Camaro. He politely declined their offer to help, and taking in the tense lines of his face, and the barely restrained emotion, they didn't push.

"Anything else from HPD or the lab?" Jax asked quietly, once he was out of earshot.

Steve shook his head. "There's no proof that he hit anyone. But there's blood . . ." he sighed. "I don't know, Jax. I don't know what to think. If it turns out that he did . . ." Steve groaned. "I don't think I can take this day being any more devastating," he murmured.

Something in his tone caught Jax's attention, and she thought hard for a moment.

"Oh, shit, babe," she said, linking her fingers in his and resting her head on his shoulder. "Your dad. I'm so sorry, I didn't realize."

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her hand. "It's our first September together, Jax; and you had so much on your mind today, don't apologize. There was . . . Danny suggested that if I wanted to stop by the . . . the, um grave . . ."

"Of course," Jax said. "Do you - is that something you want to do alone, or . . . whatever you need."

Steve rubbed his thumb over the side of her hand, letting himself be pleasantly distracted by marveling at how completely his hand engulfed hers.

"I think . . . if you'd be okay with it, I think I'd like you to be with me," Steve said quietly.

Jax nodded, and looked up as Danny came out of his apartment, duffel bag in hand. He smiled tiredly at his friends and headed to the truck.

"You set, Danny?" Steve asked, as Danny limped slightly to the truck and wearily hoisted himself back into the back seat.

Danny nodded. "Yeah, called Gracie to say goodnight while I was gathering up some clothes. I didn't know what to tell her. Settled on telling her that I had an accident today and that I was bruised and didn't have a car to drive."

"That's truth, the Danny," Jax said gently. "That's all we know for a fact right now."

Steve steered the truck toward the military cemetery where his father was laid to rest, and Danny nodded at him, meeting his eyes in the rear view mirror. The rush hour traffic had cleared, and it was a short drive in the gently waning sunlight. Steve pulled into the manicured setting and parked the truck. He sat for a moment, looking pensively out the window.

"I didn't have anyone to stand next to at the funeral," he said quietly. "I came back alone and thought I would leave the same way."

Danny reached forward from the backseat and squeezed his shoulder. "Two years . . . makes a difference, yeah, babe?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah." He took a deep breath and opened his door. "Two years, and I don't have to be here alone." His long legs easily slid out of the truck, and he glanced, amused as always, as Jax had to use the running board to step down.

"My knee is killing me," Danny said. "You guys go ahead; take your time."

Steve smiled at him, the lopsided, soft smile that said that he knew exactly what Danny was doing, and appreciated it. He stepped to the passenger side of the truck, where Jax was waiting quietly, and took her hand. They walked the few steps from the drive to his father's grave.

"He would have adored you, ku'uipo," Steve said quietly. "Both of my parents would have. But I think dad, especially. He would have taken you to the range," he added, laughing softly, "and man, the fun you would have had together working on the Mercury . . ."

"I would have enjoyed that," Jax said. "And I would have cooked for him. What would have have liked?"

"He would have liked your risotto," Steve said. "You would have had to explain to him what it was, of course, because he was a steak and potato guy; but he would have loved it. God, I miss him. I wish . . . I always thought there'd be time."

Jax nodded. The wish for more time was the constant; in every case, in every accident that went sideways, those left behind always wished for more time.

"I think . . . I'm still pretty sure it's my fault," Steve said, barely in a whisper. "If I had reacted differently, maybe . . . "

Jax shook her head. "You were all the way around the world," she reminded him. "And Danny said . . . it wouldn't have mattered. Hesse . . . he wouldn't have kept his word, Steve, you know that. There was absolutely nothing you could have done."

Steve nodded dubiously and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Does it help?" Jax asked, in a whisper.

"Hmm?" Steve tilted his head down at her.

"Does it help . . . visiting here?" she clarified, looking up at him, searching his face for answers.

He thought for a moment. "It didn't. I stayed away, until Danny started nudging," he said, smiling. "At first, I thought . . . it was a reminder. But then, yeah, after a while, it started to help. I . . . I know it sounds crazy, but I came here, the day after you started working on the Mercury. I just - I wanted so badly, just for him to be able to see you work on that car. I realized then that it wasn't just that I missed him . . . I miss what could have been. I miss him knowing the team, knowing you. Sometimes, I come here so I can tell him. Is that crazy?"

"I don't think it's crazy," Jax said. "It's . . . it's very peaceful, here."

Steve nodded. "What about . . . did you ever go to the memorial? In Manhattan?"

Jax shook her head. "I got within a block, once . . . they just finished it a few months before I applied to SWAT. But before it was built, during the clean up and construction, I went back to the site."

"Did it help?" Steve asked, rubbing her shoulder absently.

She shook her head, emphatically. "It wasn't peaceful, like this. There wasn't . . . I could still imagine, that day . . . it didn't help."

Steve nodded. "For the first few months, I went in the back door of the house. Just the back door."

"I understand," Jax said. "What changed?"

"Danny," Steve said, laughing. "I started opening the front door for Danny to come in, and somehow . . . and then he started bringing Gracie over, and there was life in the house again, and it was okay."

Jax glanced back at the truck. "So Danny . . ."

Steve smiled at her slowly. "Danny, your mentor, is the heart of Five-O. I'm not sure he realizes it; but the rest of us do."

#*#*#*#*#

At first, Jax couldn't figure out what woke her up. She rubbed her eyes and checked her phone for the time. 2 am. There was a noise . . . a voice. An unfamiliar voice, downstairs. She reached for her SIG, silently opening her bedside drawer.

"It's infomercials," Steve murmured in her ear, stretching over her and putting his hand over hers, and pushing the drawer closed. He kissed a sleepy path down her neck, to her shoulder, while he was at it. "Danny watches infomercials when he can't sleep."

"Seriously?" Jax muttered.

"Oh yeah," Steve said, chuckling. "He says it drowns out the sound of the waves."

"Concussion check," Jax said quietly, "and then I'll sit with him."

Steve nodded. "I'll relieve you in a couple hours, so you can get a little more sleep."

"Hmm," Jax said, noncommitted. She slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of gym shorts.

Danny sighed when he heard Jax's soft footfalls on the stairs.

"I'm sorry, babe," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Hey, I'm here to check on my patient," Jax said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him. She picked up the penlight she'd left on the table earlier, and flashed it in his eyes, carefully, one at a time. "You should have let us take you in, Danny. You definitely have a concussion."

"I know," Danny said, "but that's all it is. Besides, I have you."

"And the limping?" Jax said. "How many fingers?"

"Two. And I may have tweaked my bad knee," Danny responded.

"Gimme," Jax said, gesturing to his knee.

Danny winced as he rearranged himself on the sofa so that Jax could investigate. Her deft fingers probed the swollen knee, and he hissed in pain.

"It's sprained, Danny," she chided. "I'll get ice packs."

She returned from the kitchen with two soft cold packs. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Danny asked. "Oh, yeah, I may have killed a little girl, but please, by all means, look at my knee, it's a little sore?"

"Danny," Jax said, sliding next to him on the sofa. She linked her arm through his and held his hand, twining their fingers together. Grabbing the remote out of his hand, she flipped through the channels until she found a hockey game. "There's no evidence. You don't know that you hurt anyone."

"I just keep seeing her, Jax. Her little red shoes . . ." Danny swallowed hard.

"I know, Danny, but we couldn't find a thing," Jax reminded him. "Not a shred of evidence of a child."

Danny nodded. "I hope there's some other explanation. I'm not sure I'll be sleeping until we do." He stopped and tilted his head at the TV. "Hockey? Really?"

"What, Danny? It relaxes me," Jax shrugged. She snuggled close to him and nestled her head on his shoulder.

Danny grinned as he felt himself relax in spite of his distress. He pressed a kiss to her unruly curls. "Thanks, babe," he whispered.

Steve found them in the same position in two hours.

"Hey," Danny whispered, as Steve folded himself into the recliner. "She's asleep; why don't you go on back up. We're good."

"She's going to be mad," Steve said. "She was intending to keep you company."

Danny looked down at Jax fondly. "She did," he said. "Beat sitting here alone with my thoughts."

"Danny, how bad is the knee?" Steve asked, a concerned frown crossing his face.

"Not bad," Danny said. "How are you, Steve?"

"I'm fine, Danny," Steve replied, automatically.

Danny shook his head. "You were standing at your dad's grave just a handful of hours ago. How are you?"

"It's . . . harder," Steve admitted quietly. "It's harder now than it was, at first. That first six months, hell, the first year . . . I just - it was all about solving the case, you know? And making sure the paperwork was done, and setting up the financial stuff for Mary. Starting Five-O."

Danny nodded. "And now?"

"Now . . . it's like, every new thing that happens, I realize I won't get to share it with him. I won't get to introduce him to Jax. I won't get to see the two of them work on the car together," Steve said, leaning forward and rubbing a hand over his face. He drew in a shaky breath. "There's just . . . I would have liked to have been able to tell him, you know?"

"I'm sorry, babe," Danny said quietly. Jax shifted next to him and he rubbed her hand absently.

"Is there coffee?" Jax mumbled.

Danny and Steve both chuckled.

"There may as well be coffee," Danny sighed. "I don't think there's going to be any more sleep."

#*#*#*#*#

Kono watched the sun rise over the water. She still came out, once or twice a week, if the case load wasn't too heavy, to surf the early morning waves. Before the tourists, before most of the island. She loved the quiet, the power of the waves, the sound of the gulls.

Today she'd come to a little spot close to a pier . . . not the safest place to surf, but there was a stand that would open just about the time she finished, that had the most amazing malasadas. She was waiting now, letting the gradually intensifying rays of the sun warm her skin. Local fishermen were starting to dot along the pier and she watched them idly, mesmerized by the repetitive, familiar movements.

An elderly gentleman was using a cast net to gather his bait for the day. Over and over, he tossed the net, pulled it back. If Kono fixed her eyes on the water below the pier, it looked as it it just appeared and disappeared, like magic. Toss, pull . . . toss, pull . . . in the water, and then gone.

Something nagged at the back of Kono's mind as she watched.

Toss, pull . . . there, gone . . .

Danny, the Camaro, the broken headlight, the blood. His insistence that there was a little girl, but no evidence. Nothing.

There, gone . . .

Toss, pull . . .

"Holy shit," Kono exclaimed loudly, drawing a disapproving glare from the woman setting up the stand. "Sorry, auntie," Kono said, cringing as she gathered up her board and towel. Malasadas forgotten, she jogged to her car, strapped down her board, and headed for the palace.

#*#*#*#*#

Kono wasn't surprised to see Steve's Silverado parked when she arrived. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, she ran up the stairs into the main office. Glancing around, she could see Steve, Danny, and Jax, all sitting quietly in their offices. Steve and Jax appeared to be filling out reports, but Danny . . . vibrant, larger than life, perpetual motion Danny . . . sat at his desk, staring out the window.

"Guys," Kono called out, "I have an idea. You might think I'm crazy, but . . . " Her fingers flew rapidly over the touch screen keyboard and a graphic appeared on the plasma.

The three came out of their offices, curious.

"What is it, Kono?" Steve asked. "Are you okay?" he added, taking in her damp and disheveled appearance.

"I'm fine . . . I was surfing by the pier this morning - I know, I know," she added, at Steve's frown. "I was going to get malasadas, you know, from the stand . . . but I was watching . . . okay, look at this."

A short video demonstrating the use of the cast net appeared on the plasma.

"What are we looking at?" Danny asked.

"Okay, you were convinced, right, that you saw a little girl?" Kono asked.

Danny nodded miserably. "I swear, she went over the hood of my car," he said. "I can't get it out of my mind."

"Okay, and then we couldn't find a single shred of physical evidence," Kono continued. "Just . . . just look at the video. Is it possible?"

Steve studied the video, playing on a loop.

"You mean, someone tossed a little girl . . . " he asked, still confused.

"Not a little girl," Kono said, shaking her head. "Something . . . a doll, a mannequin, something to make Danny think he hit a little girl. And then yanked it back and disappeared."

The four watched the video over and over.

"It's possible," Steve said. "I think it's possible."

Danny nodded slowly. "But why . . . or who?"

"You've worked plenty of high-profile cases, Danny," Steve said. "We all have enemies." Steve paced around the table. "And then, there are plenty of people who would just like to discredit Five-O."

"Including the person who suggested starting it?" Danny asked quietly. "Have we gotten too close to something?"

Steve shook his head. "We go back to the scene; look at it differently. Kono and Jax, call Chin and Grover. Have them meet us there."

#*#*#*#*#

"You okay, Danny?" Steve asked, as they rounded the corner and parked at the scene of the accident.

"No, not really," Danny said. "Steve . . . it was so real. Every time I closed my eyes last night, I saw it. Over and over. I heard it. Her. I heard her, hitting the hood of the car."

"Wait, Danny . . . say that again," Steve said, turning to look at Danny.

"I heard her hitting the hood of the car?" Danny repeated, confused.

"Yes. That's not the first time you've said it that way, either," Steve said. "That you 'heard her hitting the hood of the car'."

"I dunno, Steve, you might just be reading in to it," Danny sighed.

"I don't think so," Steve said emphatically. "You have an attention to detail unlike anyone I've ever met, Danny. I think it's significant. I think that's how you remember, really remember, what happened - that something hit the hood of your car. Not that you hit something."

Danny rubbed his eyes, exhausted, and blew out a sharp breath. "Okay. Okay, yeah. Let's go with this idea, then and see what we can find. We might as well, because otherwise, I -" his voice broke with strain. "Otherwise I'm not sure how I'm gonna get past this."

Steve squeezed his shoulder. "I know, Danno," he said. "Come on, let's see what we can find."

#*#*#*#*#

The team scoured the surrounding area, working silently, until Chin called out.

"I think I might have something," he said.

The rest of the team jogged toward him. In his gloved hand, there was a small section of cording. He held it up to Steve.

"That looks like military grade," Steve murmured. "Let's get it back to the lab."

#*#*#*#*#

"Wow," Charlie Fong said, as Steve and Danny came into the lab. "You guys are good. I was just getting ready to call you."

"We were bringing you something to look at," Steve said, "but you go first."

"I'm not sure how, or why . . . or if you'll even believe me," Charlie said, "but I've run the test repeatedly. The blood on the broken headlight of the Camaro?"

"Yeah," Danny said, a feeling of dread in his stomach.

"It's Steve's," Charlie said.

"What?!" both men exclaimed.

"That's impossible," Steve said.

"I don't know what to tell you," Charlie said. "But there's absolutely no doubt. It's Steve's blood on Danny's car."