Chapter Text
To Appreciate (Grace Williams)
Steve had heard about Grace more times than he could begin to count, and he had only met her father—Danny Williams—three weeks prior. Then she wriggled her way onto the bleachers in front of Steve, glued close to her father’s side, and Steve was gone. Grace took him hook, line and sinker.
Despite how often Danny talked about Grace, seeing him with her was still something else entirely. The New Jersey native, usually fixed on scowling at everything that made Hawai`i Hawai`i, was a different sort of relaxed when Grace was around. It wasn’t the kind of relaxed he was over a beer at the end of a case, which was a kind of relaxed that still had uptight habits lingering. It was the kind of relaxed that truly enjoyed and embraced island life, or at least pretended to.
Grace was all smiles and giggles with adorably pleading eyes, framed by pigtails. She made Danny smile much easier than Steve ever could, and that made Steve smile. Steve could appreciate and notice all the smiles on Danny’s face that stayed hidden most days at work. Grace allowed Steve to appreciate Danny’s laughter, to see his large, mildly Italian hand gestures as a delight rather than a hindrance.
“You’re thinking, boss,” Kono quipped curiously, as soon as Danny and Grace left to get more snacks.
“I just,” Steve shook himself out of his trance, “Grace is a great kid.”
“Yeah,” she nodded, seemingly unconvinced.
“Sure is,” Chin chuckled, as skeptical as his cousin.
All too soon, Steve couldn’t appreciate Grace—or that side of Danny—as much as he’d have liked. There were gunshots, and running and screaming. Steve hardly remembered anything until he stood on the football field, staring at Danny yell angrily and clench his cell in his fingers, but they didn't get a chance to discuss it until hours later in the Camaro.
“She says that it is not safe for Grace to be around me, like the football shooting is my fault.” Steve couldn’t find the right words to express his vehement disagreement, because he’d never seen anyone love their child like Danny loved Grace. It weighed on him.
To Be Loyal (Charlie Edwards)
It had been such a long day, with such a messy case, and still “if you say he has my nose I’ll break yours” had pushed at Steve’s heart in a weird way. He’d learnt a lot about Danny in the nearly 18 months they’d been enemies, partners and confidants, but he was still surprised by the detective that day. Steve knew how loyal Danny was, ready to burn bridges and cross mountains for his loved ones, but holding your ex wife’s hand through the labour of another man’s child was a different matter entirely.
Still, Steve wouldn’t let the force’s ability to stay committed to their ohana be questioned—of course he let Danny go to the hospital without another word about it. It left more of a hollow space in his day than he’d expected, or liked. Questioning witnesses, chasing perps, and using mildly illegal military style interrogation tactics in a basement; it all felt disjointed without Danny.
Steve thought part of his work day was missing, until he walked down the hospital corridor and spotted the short blonde detective. It had nothing to do with work, it was that Danny was missing. Danny stood staring at a baby he helped deliver but didn’t have a part of him, and Steve didn’t know how to feel about the matter.
Steve wondered if seeing Danny in the little boy in the plastic crib was just his mind playing tricks on him. Danny was more emotionally invested in this kid than he should’ve been, that much was obvious, but that made Steve feel some sort of invested. Steve was entwined with Danny more than either would care to admit, and somehow, a baby belonging to his partner’s ex-wife's new husband was a symbol of that.
To Trust (Freddie Hart)
Freddie wore his heart on his sleeve, which was why Steve was wholly unsurprised when he got a tattoo of just that. It made him Freddie, the way he loved so unapologetically. Steve had always known in the back of his mind, that that was how he would always know his best friend. If he opened his mouth, his heart poured out. To open the paltry excuse of a casket and not feel the same sent shockwaves through Steve’s body.
Steve knew Catherine hardly believed him, and that Danny would. Steve also knew that Freddie would believe him. That was the thing about their relationship, and why Steve chose him for the mission, because of their trust. If push came to shove, Steve knew Freddie wasn’t the most skilled Navy SEAL—but the trust was more important. A SEAL who could run faster or shoot straighter was useless if you didn’t trust them to do it for you.
The trust between him and Freddie flickered in his brain, replaying like a scratched DVD, while he and Catherine were in North Korea. Interspersed every so often, like subliminal messaging, was Danny. Danny was the only person Steve learned to trust since Freddie. More than that, Steve knew Danny was the only one who trusted him back just the same.
The third pillar of who Freddie was was hope, with a smile too wide at the thought of a daughter he only found out about days before the mission. Steve had never thought himself ready for a modicum of that commitment, but Freddie—with his open heart, infallible trust, and overwhelming hope—was diving in head first. It made talking to Freddie’s daughter harder for Steve, and bittersweet to recognise the similarities in Danny.
To Be Grounded (Joan (and Mary) McGarrett)
Steve would be the first to admit he was skeptical of Mary adopting Joan, so perhaps his sister had been right to not forewarn him. Steve—after losing the “for three weeks, and he died” argument about the elderly man Mary briefly cared for (because yes, he was 90)—felt quite self righteous about the whole thing when Mary ended up in hospital. He shouldn’t have, he knows he’s a terrible brother for it, but he still admonished his sister while she was violently ill. Then Mary guilt tripped him into looking after Joan, and all he could do was sigh and sling the diaper bag over one shoulder and baby over the other.
In his car on the way to the office, while he made silly faces at his niece in the mirror and thought about what he would tell his team, his brain got side tracked. A thought about Joan made him think about Charlie Edwards—the most recent baby to come into his life—and that made him think about Grace, and Danny. Grace was one day this small, Charlie still was. Danny was half the centre of Grace’s world when she was that small, and he once thought he would be that for Charlie.
Charlie barely got brought up in conversation, but Steve knew that a part of Danny was still torn up about everything. Steve hoped that Joan’s presence wouldn’t upset Danny, and it didn’t. It wasn’t just that Steve got to see Danny be a different kind of paternal, fussing over a baby that wasn’t even his, but that Danny got to see Steve like that. Steve wondered what he looked like to Danny at that moment, baby strapped to his chest while he barked orders about said baby’s feeding routine.
Joan grounded Steve in a way he hadn’t expected. She was a pull away from the case and everything about work, toward family and stability. She was a reminder of mortality in a kind of nice way he couldn’t quite describe, something he knew Danny didn’t think he remembered enough. Steve wouldn’t ever admit it to Mary, at least not for the next decade, but Joan kind of made him want his own children. The first flicker in his mind was Grace, but it’s surely unrelated to the idea of Danny being family. He just didn’t know many kids.
To Understand (Nahele Huikala)
Steve didn’t make the offer to Nahele to bond over rebuilding his Marquis just for Nahele’s benefit, a part of himself he couldn’t describe more than being selfish did it for himself as well. Steve could always see similarities between Nahele and who he was at 15, a young boy suddenly without a mother and sent away from the only home and family he had ever known.
When the Marquis was first stolen, Steve was so angry. He was ready to lock up the culprit and throw away the key. (Danny thought it was a disproportionate reaction, not that Steve asked his opinion.) Instantly, the moment Steve saw Nahele folded into himself and sitting shyly in front of his desk, it was like a sense of humanity and understanding was lit inside him.
Rebuilding the Marquis with Nahele didn’t just give Nahele a chance, it gave Steve a chance to rebuild himself a little differently. The first time Steve rebuilt the Marquis, on his own, it was something he did to honour his father. Rebuilding it with Nahele felt like it was honouring his relationship with his father. Steve had an opportunity in front of him, to understand the relationships he didn’t have but could have.
Through Nahele, through a careful and considered project that let them talk for hours like it was therapy, Steve could present himself differently to everyone else in his life. He better understood Grace; Nahele acted as a sort of middle ground ‘bridge to the youth’ toward Steve’s understanding of 12 year old girls. He better understood himself, with an opportunity to be methodical in a more cathartic way. Nahele, with his hopeful eyes and earnest attitude, helped Steve to better understand Danny. He better understood Danny as a father, which might’ve been the only thing Steve was ever after.