Hawaii Five-0 fic: Family business - chapter 6/?
Chapter 1 (contains full headers and warnings)
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Rating / Warnings: PG-13 for language and angst. No content warnings apply.
Word count: 4,200 words for this chapter; 26,000 words so far.
Author's note: Thanks for your patience, everyone! Chapter 7 is almost finished, so there shouldn't be such a long wait for the next update.
***
Chapter 6
There's a long line outside Liliha Bakery at 8am Friday morning, and Danny almost gives it a miss. But the aromas coming from inside are pretty incredible, and Meka's enthusiastic description of those coco puff things has Danny's curiosity piqued. So he waits his turn, and then orders a dozen for Reyes and a single one for himself.
He eats it right there in the parking lot, and Jesus, it's fucking fantastic. Tiramisu is immediately knocked off its long-held perch: now Danny thinks he'd choose Ma's lasagna and a plate of coco puffs as his last ever meal. And yeah, so maybe he's contemplated this too often...but you gotta do something to stay awake on overnight stake-outs.
Danny's running late, so he doesn't stop off to get coffee. And when he walks into the bullpen, he sees that Reyes is already sipping from a large take-away cup anyway. Her eyes look a little unfocused, like the caffeine hasn't hit yet, but her face lights up when he puts the Liliha box in front of her.
"Whoa - what's this for?"
"A reliable source told me these were your favorites. I just wanted to say thanks for, you know, showing me the ropes this week."
She swallows her mouthful of chocolate pastry, and smiles at him. "Meka, huh? He knows all my weaknesses. I really appreciate the gesture, Danny, but seriously: you gotta take them away before I eat the whole damn box."
So Danny passes the coco puffs around, finding that Meka was also right about these things being universally popular. As Kaleo and Ahuna are already out on a case, there's enough for everyone and several left for Reyes to enjoy later.
After all the action of yesterday, Friday turns out to be pretty quiet. Captain Makaha wants that report on the robbery investigation and Howard's arrest, ASAP, so Danny keeps working on it. Reyes is typing something up, too, with a lot of backspacing and muttered swearing.
"Notes for the Diamond Head neighborhood board meeting tonight," she explains, when Danny's curiosity gets the better of him. "The department always sends someone along to this kind of thing - strengthening community ties and all that jazz, which is fine. But it's just hard to find a diplomatic way to say, 'The economy is tanking and you guys are filthy rich, so it's no fucking wonder your mansions are getting ransacked and your luxury cars are getting stolen', you know?"
"Yeah, and I bet it's the same as back home," Danny says. "The people complaining the loudest about spiraling crime rates are the ones who want lower property taxes and state expenditure cuts, right?" She nods, rolling her eyes, and he asks, "So what've you got for them so far?"
"Increasing financial pressures on the wider community are fueling the rise in property offences in your area," Reyes recites. "While these are mostly non-violent crimes, HPD understands that they can be deeply distressing to the victims. Despite our budgetary constraints, we will endeavor to apprehend as many of the perpetrators as possible."
"Very nice." Danny grins at her. "Clearly you majored in reassuring bullshit."
"Aced every class, brah," she says, and they both turn back to their writing. Danny is so glad he was assigned a partner with a similar sense of humor. God, to think he could have been stuck with someone like Kaleo.
Lee and Takahashi catch a case after lunch, but Reyes and Danny are left to their paperwork for the rest of the day. He turns in his report mid-afternoon, and gets Makaha's permission to leave early so he can pick up Grace.
She's back in school today, and well enough to spend the whole weekend with Danny as planned. So he goes grocery shopping on the way to Rachel's, making sure to buy actual fruit and vegetables. Since his kitchenware is now unpacked, and replenished with stuff he got at Target last night, Danny also picks up the ingredients for his daughter's favorite: lasagna, made to Ma's special recipe.
Grace still has the sniffles and a lingering cough, but she greets Danny with an enthusiastic hug.
"Did you catch any bad guys this week, Danno?" she asks as they're driving to his place.
"I sure did, monkey. There was a very bad man from Philadelphia who was robbing banks here in Hawaii, and hurting people. I helped find him and arrest him."
She tilts her head. "Was the man bad 'cos of where he came from?"
Danny thinks this is an unusually insightful question, for an eight-year-old. But hey: any teachable moment, right? So he's willing to talk - in suitably sanitized terms - about how some kids come up rough in neighborhoods where violent crime is almost the default, while others are raised in a safe and loving environment but just choose to be criminals. Judging from his file, Danny's pretty sure that Curtis Howard falls into the latter category.
But then Grace adds, "'Cos, you know, I've heard you shout mean things about people from Philadelphia when you're watching sports on TV."
And Danny's brought back down to Earth with a thud.
"Oh...no, sweetheart, that's different," he explains, caught between amusement and embarrassment. "I don't like football players or baseball players or hockey players from Philadelphia, and some of those teams have fans that aren't so nice either. But I'm sure the city is full of truly wonderful people, otherwise. And I think this bad man would still have been bad even if he'd been lucky enough to grow up in Newark, like you and me."
Grace nods, apparently satisfied, and Danny makes a mental note not to watch any more New York vs. Philly games while she's around. He's not sure he can afford even basic cable here, anyway, so he might have to find a decent sports bar to frequent.
Though Danny still doesn't have a TV - he's holding out for Black Friday - he does have a shiny new laptop. It was a farewell gift from his brother, who is generous to a fault. Matty even paid for a tech nerd to set it up with email, Skype, media playing software, and a one-year Netflix subscription.
So after dinner, Danny and Grace curl up on the couch and watch one of her old favorites, Finding Nemo. He has a soft spot for that movie as well, since it's mostly about a father's unshakeable devotion to his only child. Danny's not so fond of the ocean when it comes to swimming, but he can deal with the animated version just fine.
***
Steve calls at 8am Saturday and says, "Hey, want to head up to the Punchbowl cemetery today?"
And a good morning to you too, buddy, Danny thinks grouchily. He was already awake, because Grace isn't old enough yet to equate the weekend with sleeping in, but Steve sounds like one of those irritating morning people.
He does appreciate Steve making an effort to share his family history, though, so Danny just says, "Sorry, I can't. I have Grace all weekend, and I don't think a military cemetery would be her idea of a good time. But I'm dropping her back at Rachel's around 5pm tomorrow, so I could maybe meet up with you then?"
"Yeah, okay, that'd probably work," Steve says after a moment. "Text me once you're free, and we can rendezvous at the Punchbowl."
"Sure," Danny says, and is unsurprised when Steve hangs up without saying goodbye. He wonders if his cousin was always so abrupt, or if military training overrode whatever manners Steve's mom had taught him.
Grace has had breakfast and is now taking a bubble bath, singing Hannah Montana songs to herself. It's the ideal opportunity for Danny to have another conversation, one he's been putting off for days.
He goes over to sit by the front door, to lessen the chance of her overhearing, and calls his parents' place in Newark.
Pop's out at the park with Danny's sister Jennifer, watching her sons Frankie and Tyler play soccer, but Ma is home and pleased to hear from Danny. Her warm voice, still with a slight Boston accent after all these decades, tugs at his heart. God, he misses her so bad.
After a quick catch-up, Danny says, "Hey Ma, listen. I've got some news about my biological father - and it could be hard for you to hear."
She takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I thought you might. Okay, sweetheart, hit me."
"I went to see the people who investigated Jack McGarrett's murder," Danny begins, "and I wound up meeting his son Steve. He was pretty surprised to learn I existed...and upset, too, because Jack was already married to his mom in '75."
"Well, that makes sense," Ma says. "When I never heard back from him, I pretty much figured he must have been married."
"So Steve and I went and got our DNA tested, just to prove it for sure. I'm sorry, Ma, but the results show it wasn't Steve's dad that you met in Boston. It was actually Jack's older brother, Winston."
"What? No, I'm sure Lieutenant McGarrett told me his name was Jack. Even after 35 years, I remember it quite clearly."
Danny explains his theory about Winston hating his own name, and using his brother's instead.
"I guess that's possible," Ma says slowly. "But wait: does that mean he never got my letters, if I addressed them to the wrong guy?"
That explanation had occurred to Danny around 1am Thursday morning, when this whole mess kept swirling in his overtired brain.
"Maybe, yeah. Steve says he'll look through Jack's old stuff, and check if Winston ever wrote him about you. But there's a high chance we'll never find out either way. Unfortunately, Winston passed just a few years after you two met, so we can't ask him."
Ma sighs. "Oh, Lord. How did he die?"
For a moment she sounds old and tired, despite only being in her 50s.
"I don't actually know, yet," Danny admits. "Steve is gonna take me tomorrow to see his grave, so I'll ask him about it."
"So what's Steve like, then?"
Danny takes a moment to consider his answer, acutely aware of the things he can't say.
"He's in the Navy, too - it seems to be a McGarrett family tradition. And he's a hero, if all his medals are anything to go by. He was pretty unfriendly when we first met, which I guess is understandable: I showed up less than two months after Jack had been shot, claiming he'd cheated on Steve's mom. But Steve seems more accepting of me as a cousin than as his half-brother."
"Well, at least that's one good thing to come of all this," Ma says, with that positive outlook of hers which Danny definitely did not inherit. "It'll be nice for you to have some family out there, apart from Gracie."
"You are my family, Ma," Danny says firmly. "You and Pop, Matty and Jen and Lisa, and their kids. Steve might be blood, but he's not kin...not really."
Her voice is thick with emotion when she replies, "That's very sweet of you, kiddo, but I've got a pretty elastic definition of family. My best friends here in Newark are more like sisters to me than my real sisters ever were, you know? So I won't mind if you get close to Steve, and I'm sure Frank won't either."
Danny's stomach twists; he's pretty damn sure they'd mind if he and Steve got as close as Danny would like. But he just says, "Thanks, Ma."
Grace emerges from the bathroom, then, clean and dressed and looking perkier than she did yesterday. "Hey, monkey, come talk to Nana Maria," he says.
She runs across the room to take the phone, big smile on her face. "Hi, Nana," she chirps, and Danny leaves them to chat while he washes the dishes.
It rains heavily for most of Saturday and Grace still isn't 100 per cent, so they have a quiet day inside. The new sofa-bed is delivered late morning, and she sprawls out on it to watch that stupid Jonas Brothers movie, yet again. Meanwhile, Danny rearranges the other furniture and unpacks his last few boxes. This place is looking more like a home, now, especially with Grace here.
Once the sun comes out, late afternoon, they go for a walk around Danny's neighborhood. It's a not so great part of town, but Danny is paying more for a one-bedroom apartment here than for a two-bedroom in Newark. Still, there are fragrant flowering trees everywhere, plenty of other families around, and a well-maintained playground just a block away.
And getting to push Grace ever higher on the swings, her braids trailing behind her and her laughter ringing out brightly, is worth all of the stress and sadness Danny has endured to be here.
***
Sunday dawns warm and clear. Grace is close to her normal peppy self again and eager for action, so Danny consults the list of child-friendly attractions Reyes had suggested.
They wind up at this pineapple plantation which is more like a theme park, complete with a giant maze shaped like - what else? - a pineapple. Grace delights in drinking juice straight from a freshly-picked pineapple; Danny takes a sip, too, and finds it's not as disgustingly sweet as the processed stuff. Fruit still doesn't belong anywhere near pizza, though.
They head up to the North Shore around lunchtime and grab some sandwiches, then sit on Ehukai Beach and watch the surfers. Apparently this is the time of year when the swells are biggest. Danny thinks it's insane, the way people throw themselves at these huge walls of water and trust that they won't die horribly. But Grace's take on it is unfortunately quite different.
"Wow," she says, "that looks like so much fun." Her mouth hangs open as a bikini-clad woman slides across a wave at high speed, disappears behind the curl of churning water, and then emerges a few seconds later to ride it in to shore.
Grace turns to him, all hopeful smile and big brown eyes. "Can I learn how to surf, Danno?"
Danny curses inwardly. He is going to have words with Reyes come Monday morning, for suggesting this as a suitable form of free entertainment for his impressionable child.
"Looks pretty dangerous, monkey," he says. "I think you'd have to be much bigger and stronger to stay up on a board."
Grace shakes her head. "Lots of girls in my class go surfing," she informs him. "They start out learning at beaches with little waves, and they have kid-sized boards. It'd be a real good way for me to fit in around here and make new friends, right?"
Danny sighs. Given the combination of his and Rachel's genes and influence, it's no wonder Grace is able to argue persuasively for what she wants. And at some point, Danny knows he has to let his little girl take risks.
"I'll talk to your mom, okay," he concedes, "but don't get your hopes up just yet."
That daredevil in the yellow bikini wades out of the ocean, then, and Danny does a double-take: it's Kono. Ahuna had said she was a surfer, and it makes sense that she'd be just as fearless on a board as with a sniper rifle.
Kono spots Danny and comes over, planting her surfboard in the sand nearby. "Howzit, Danny. Thinking of catching some waves today?"
"Christ, no," he says hastily, "but you're setting a truly terrible example for Grace here."
She grins at him, utterly unrepentant, and turns to his daughter. "Hi, Grace, I'm Kono. I worked a case with your dad this week."
Grace smiles back. "Are you a detective too?"
"I'm learning how to be one, yeah," Kono tells her. "You should be proud of your dad - he helped us catch a very bad guy."
"The man from Philly, right? Only that isn't why he's bad, though," Grace says authoritatively, and Kono blinks at her in confusion.
Danny doesn't feel up to explaining a fierce interregional sports rivalry to someone from a state that lacks football, baseball, basketball, and hockey franchises. So he just says, "Hey, is Chin here too?"
Kono shakes her head, sending drops of water everywhere. "I come up to the Pipeline every Sunday, and he works on fixing up his old bike. It suits us both pretty well."
Danny nods. He can understand why the two of them would need the space, after working together all week.
"Anyway," she continues, "I'm just gonna refuel before heading back out. Nice to meet you, Grace; see you around, Danny."
Once they're alone again, Grace asks, "Who's Chin?"
"Chin Ho Kelly is Kono's husband. He's another detective I met this week." Then, because he's curious to gauge her response, Danny adds, "And he's Kono's first cousin, too."
"Eww," Grace says. "That'd be like me marrying Frankie or Tyler, right?"
Danny suppresses a sigh...he shouldn't have expected any different from an eight-year-old who still suspects boys of having cooties.
"Yeah, that's right," he tells her. "Grown-up cousins are allowed to get married here in Hawaii, and in Jersey too for that matter."
"That's just weird," Grace declares, and turns back to watching the surfers defy death for fun. Danny stretches out on their blanket, and closes his eyes against the glare of the sun.
***
Danny and Grace stay at the beach until mid-afternoon. Then he drives back to his place, gets her cleaned up, and changes into some nicer clothes himself. He's going to a cemetery, after all - even if Ma didn't raise her kids to be religious, she made damn sure they were respectful.
Once he's dropped Grace at Rachel's, Danny texts Steve and then finds his way across town to the Punchbowl. It's a stunning location for a final resting place, set into a volcanic crater with a view out across Honolulu and the ocean beyond.
Steve meets him in the parking lot, also dressed more formally than usual: well-fitted navy slacks and a white button-down have replaced the cargo pants and polo shirt combo. Danny can't help noticing that Steve looks stunning, too. He clenches his fists until it hurts...he's here to see three dead relatives, for fuck's sake, not to lust over a living one.
"I found this last night, and thought you'd want to see it," Steve says by way of hello, holding out a color photo of two men in Navy dress uniforms. Jack is on the left, decades younger than his obituary picture but still recognizable.
The guy on the right has lighter hair and bright blue eyes, and the resemblance to Danny himself is unmistakable. This, more than any DNA test, makes their connection feel real. Winston McGarrett truly was his biological father.
"Thank you," Danny manages. "I'd like to have a copy of this, if you don't mind."
Steve takes back the picture with a nod. Then he leads Danny to Winston's grave, located in the shade of a large tree. "I'm going to visit with Dad," Steve tells him. "Come find me when you're ready."
Relieved to be alone for this, Danny takes a deep breath and looks down at the flat gray stone marker. It simply reads:
Winston Steven McGarrett. Lt. Navy, Vietnam. Beloved son and brother. August 31, 1940 - January 23, 1977.
It's a damn strange way to meet the man responsible for half his genes. Danny hadn't even known Winston's full name, or the dates he was born and died. He was so young, barely two years older than Danny is now. But this cemetery is full of people taken too soon.
"You're not my father, not really," Danny tells the ground beneath his feet. "Maybe you would've wanted to be, if Ma's letters had reached you. Or maybe you were some selfish bastard who seduced a naïve girl, got her pregnant, and sailed away without looking back. God, I wish I knew the truth."
Danny looks up at the clear blue sky, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. He hadn't expected that this would hit him so hard.
"But I exist because of you, for better or worse. And when you didn't come back, Ma wound up with a man who truly loved her. They've had a good life together, despite that rocky start, and Frank Williams has been the best father I could have hoped for. So...thank you, I guess."
He lingers there a while longer, thinking things over. Then he glances across the cemetery and sees Steve standing over another McGarrett grave, head bowed. His posture looks defeated, dejected, and Danny feels a surge of sympathy for him. The losses that Steve has endured - his parents' deaths and his sister's absence - help put Danny's own situation into perspective. He hasn't really lost anything at all. In fact, Danny feels like maybe he's gained from this whole process.
So he goes over and stands at Steve's side, near enough that their arms are almost touching. Instead of moving away, Steve leans a little closer to Danny; neither of them speaks.
Danny reads the epitaph, does the math, and realizes that Jack's mother must have been carrying him when her husband was killed. Widowed, pregnant, and with a toddler to manage...in a way, their grandmother was just as much a hero as their grandfather.
Steve bends down and brushes some stray leaves off the grave, pressing his hand to the stone for a moment. Then he straightens up, and gestures to the large monument set into the hillside. "The missing men from Pearl Harbor are listed up there."
They climb the steps together, and stand in front of a wall commemorating the dead of the Arizona. It gives Danny a chill to see Lieutenant Commander Steven John McGarrett among them; grandfather and grandson even hold the same rank.
"You were named for him?" Danny says. "Damn, Steve, that's a lot to live up to."
"I guess so." Steve shrugs. "I always thought of it as an honor, though. Our grandmother outlived her husband by nearly 50 years, but she kept his memory alive. I felt like I knew him, thanks to her stories."
Danny nods, still staring at the hundreds of names carved into white marble that's cold to the touch, despite the warm afternoon. But Steven John McGarrett II is standing close beside him, radiating heat. So Danny turns away from the dead to face the living, and says, "I'm glad you brought me here."
"I'm glad you wanted to come," Steve replies. They walk slowly across the expanse of carefully-tended lawn, with rows of graves stretching out in every direction.
Back in the parking lot, Steve goes to open his truck door and then pauses. "I also found some of my uncle's letters last night, along with our family Bible," he says abruptly. "You could come over and see them now, if you like - stay for dinner, too."
Danny blinks at him. "Yeah, that'd be great."
When Steve rattles off his address, Danny recognizes it from the HPD file on Jack McGarrett. And Jesus, how fucked up is it to live in the house where your father was murdered? But he doesn't say anything; Steve is being surprisingly open and welcoming, and Danny doesn't want to break the spell.
Steve drives away from the cemetery at speed, but Danny follows more sedately. He stops to pick up beer, since Pop taught him not to show up at a buddy's place empty-handed. Steve lives not too far from Rachel's place, by island standards of distance. Driving a route that's quickly becoming familiar, Danny has time to think about tonight.
He couldn't read any hidden agenda in Steve's expression or body language when the invitation was made. So either Steve is just trying to help his long-lost relative find some answers, or he actually wants the two of them to become friends.
The third option, that Steve is still attracted to Danny after learning their true connection, seems a lot less likely. Danny's never been an optimist, unlike Ma, and he's used to wanting things he can't have. The dilemma he faces now is, should he tell Steve anyway?
At first glance, the cons outweigh the pros here. Steve may be offended and disgusted; he might want nothing more to do with Danny. And even if a spark of interest does still remain, he seems to have something pretty good going with Lieutenant Rollins already.
On the other hand...wouldn't it be creepy and wrong for Danny to keep having secret X-rated thoughts about someone who just sees him as a cousin? Being aware of the truth would at least let Steve make an informed choice about spending time together.
But the bottom line is this: if there's the slightest chance that Steve feels the same way and is willing to give this crazy thing a try, Danny has to know. So he decides to be honest with Steve, either tonight or sometime soon.
***
Chapter 7