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The blond detective knows he should have visited sooner. He has lived in Honolulu four years now, after all. Encountering death is something Danny tries to avoid as much as he can, a task often difficult due to his job description. Of course, he can handle being on a crime scene; he’d be an awful homicide detective if he couldn’t. It’s different when death is personal, though. Danny knows how much Steve misses his father and how he still struggles when the grief hits. So, visiting the late Sergeant John McGarrett’s grave is close enough for him to consider it a personal death encounter.
Danny arrives at John's gravesite after a little verbal back-and-forth with security guards at the gate. He has visited with Steve before but remained silent during such visits, mostly because he was unsure what to say or didn’t want to interrupt the other’s chat with his dad accidentally. The humidity of the city’s air mixed with Danny’s nervousness. It covers his palms in a sweaty blanket. He exhales as he takes a seat in front of the headstone. “Ah, good morning.” Now he notices he’s biting a hangnail, so he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Slight embarrassment (even though he’s the only one visiting the graveyard right now) adds to the heat and anxious flush on his cheeks. “I’m Danny, Steve’s partner in every sense of the word,” he chuckles. “You know that, though, 'cause your boy talks about me a lot,” he pauses. “We fit together in an odd yet perfect way, having relationship milestones after a close brush with the reaper. Our first hug was after sarin poisoning almost took me out. A few years later, our first non-romantic ‘I love you’ was after escaping from a collapsed building.” The blond rolls his eyes, hoping he’s making John chuckle, wherever his late unofficial father-in-law is. “Finally, a few weeks ago, he proposed to me after a crazy Irish arms dealer tried to revenge kill me. Steve avenged your death by killing him instead. Yup, it was that guy, Victor Hesse.” Danny takes his left hand out of his pocket so that the ring is facing the gravestone. “I’m sure Debbie helped him pick it out; Steve isn’t the most fashionable. Him and his dang cargo pants.” Another chuckle escaped his lips.
He crosses his legs and leans forward; the graveyard becomes more familiar as his nervousness diminishes. “Oh, turns out you weren’t a widower 'cause Doris never died that night.” Danny assumes Steve has mentioned this to John already, though he continues, “You were right about the crash not being an accident; she did what she did for the safety of you and your kids. I don’t exactly agree with it.” He’s rambling now. “I have never been and hope never to be in such a position, but I feel like she could have handled it in a way that didn’t mess up your family life— or make Steve more emotionally constipated than he was before he was fifteen,” the detective’s words are laced with a hint of a scoff. “I guess that’s what happens when a Navy widow raises a Navy father,” he adds, knowing some McGarrett family history.
“You did what you thought you had to do after Doris allegedly died, I know.” Danny blames Doris more for messing up Steve’s life than he ever would blame John. “Especially given you thought it had something to do with criminals in Hawaii.” The detective shifts his position again, stretching his legs. “Steve turned out— he’s a good man. One of the best I know. He learned a lot from you and Joe. Despite not having PD training, he’s an excellent detective. His Navy service record speaks for itself too.” He’s beaming as usual when he yaps about his partner. “If you could see him now, you’d be proud, John. He’s saved me more than I can count, not only from physical mortal peril. Even before we were friends, Steve used his connections to keep Grace and me close. Cause that’s super important to him. My, our,” Danny corrects himself, “daughter adores Steve just as much as I do. He loves her like she’s his own. For someone who’s the poster boy for mommy and daddy issues,” the blond can’t help but chuckle, “ahem, apologies— probably not the right place to say such things, even playfully.” He then takes a moment, silently apologizing to God for being inappropriate in a graveyard. “Steve’s got a way with children, is what I mean.”
Danny exhales, fond thoughts filling his head. “I trust him with everything I have, John. Steve has never let me down once. Not even my very severe generalized anxiety disorder can convince me otherwise.” His tone is prideful, as the detective usually is when discussing his Navy SEAL. “He’s too hard on himself, which I can relate to but...” a pause, “I love him, so so so much.” Great going, Danny, you’re tearing up. “Steve loves me lots too. Chin says that you would have liked me if we had a chance to meet.” He sniffs, then clears his throat to push back a cry that tried to climb out of his esophagus. “I’m sorry the HPD didn’t get to you fast enough to save you that day, sir. However, if I were in your position, I would have wanted Steve not to give in to a bad guy’s demands, too.” He knows his partner would HATE that. The commander unwinds when it comes to his Danno. “Hopefully, I never end up in such a situation. I think you’d agree that’s the last thing our boy needs, ever.” He wipes his eyes with the bottom of his shirt.
“Steve misses you still, alwa—” Danny’s phone ringing grabs his attention from his conversation with John. “Sorry, gotta take this,” he answers, “Detective Williams.” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat again,” … yes I’m on the way, text me the address. Aloha, see you in about ten mikes.” He hangs up, focusing his blue gaze on the late retired sergeant’s gravestone. “Duty calls, as you know,” he chuckles. “I’ll visit again soon.” Danny pulls himself back on his feet, gives the gravestone a respectful nod, then leaves a penny behind. He heads back towards his car. The detective got a murder scene to get to, after all.