A/N: It took me a while but here's the epilogue. Hopefully you haven't all forgotten the story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any of the characters.

Epilogue

"Come on, buddy. Take it easy." Steve inched closer. Squatting low, desperate to make eye contact with his best friend.

"Gonna... k... kill..." Danny stuttered badly. He sat on the floor, trembling from head to toe. Dressed in black sweatpants and a crumpled gray t-shirt. His messy hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

"It was a bad dream, Danno. Nothing more."

Steve was starting to feel the burn in his calf muscles but dare not move. The open doorway let in just enough light for him to make out Danny's features. His impenetrable look and deathly pale face made Steve's chest tighten. The dark circles under his eyes a constant reminder of his inability to get a decent night's sleep.

"Kill me... gonna die." Danny's focus never wavered from his white knuckle grip.

"Buddy, you gotta trust me. You don't wanna do this. Let me take it before you do something you'll regret."

This time Steve's words struck a cord. Danny's fear morphed into anger as he met his friend's gaze. "Six. Only a year older than Charlie. And she looked so much like Grace."

"Danno, we've been through this. The drugs are messing with your head." Steve glanced at the alarm clock by the bed, and shook his head in dismay. Almost three. "Please, hand it to me."

"No, no, no, no..." Danny's mind switched gears at a frightening pace, scowling at what he held in his hands. I can't give it to Steve.

Fatigued and losing patience from countless sleepless nights, Steve decided enough was enough. Pushing up from his crouched position he launched himself forward. Danny dove to the side, but he was too slow, and Steve landed on him hard, pushing them both into the side table, a picture frame and lamp tumbled to the floor.

H50 H50 H50 H50 H50

Danny wasn't sure why he'd ended up in his daughter's bedroom. Maybe he'd been drawn there by the image of the young girl Jerry had shown them the previous morning. She was so much like Grace with her big brown eyes and dark hair. As if the whole drug-induced experience hadn't been bad enough, he now found himself again confronted by the creepy doll from the backyard jungle. Except this one was clean with its blonde locks brushed neatly into a ponytail.

He knew he should stop, hand the damn thing to his friend, but he couldn't. His thumbs dug into the eye sockets, and the doll's face contorted as he crushed it with both hands.

A tight ball of rage continued to grow inside of him as did his frustration at the whole sorry situation. He couldn't do anything but relive the story in his dreams. Pointlessly struggling to save the family.

It had been well over a week now, and Danny still couldn't sort it all out. What had he seen? No matter how many times he told himself it was all a hallucination, he came back to that frightening phantom of a man. A child killer. Maybe the devil himself.

And the night terrors kept coming. They'd taken control of his life. Unable to sleep, he was unbearably grouchy, snapping at everyone. Without Steve running interference, Danny wasn't sure he was fit to be around his kids in this state. He welcomed Steve's suggestion that they stay together while they battled their demons. With Rachel in the throes of a divorce, he often had Grace and Charlie with him, and occasionally at short notice. Thankfully, tonight, they were with his ex.

Unlike the previous nightmares this one was too real. What Jerry had told them filled in some of the blanks. Real people now inhabited his dreams rather than hazy memories. He'd barely kept it together reading the transcripts from the inquiry.

Joseph Morris, husband to Ruth and father to Larry and Nancy, had a history of violence with a string of misdemeanor convictions from petty theft to simple assault. The latter resulting in him being fired from the docks where he worked as a general laborer. He was well known in the tight-knit community for his extremely volatile temper, and it wasn't unusual to see him on the street downing a bottle of whiskey. Back then, there were a lot of men in his position. Down on their luck and out of work. People often turned a blind eye to heavy drinking. No one wanted to know what went on behind closed doors.

The kids' aunt, Alice Meeks, had told the homicide team of her older sister's plans to leave Joseph. A move that was mostly unheard of at the time. Ruth Morris had grown fearful of her husband's controlling behavior and violent outbursts. Alice had repeatedly begged her to get out before something like this happened. She'd worried about Joseph's increased drinking and even claimed that he'd become careless with his firearms. Leaving them in easy reach of the children and brandishing them at visitors. Everyone in the house had been walking on eggshells.

Until something finally cracked open.

Mother and son had been found huddled together in a corner of the boy's room. The grainy, black and white crime scene photos somehow made the thing ten times worse. Danny's mind eagerly filled in the gaps with horrifying technicolor. He could hear their screams, feel their terror.

The little girl's statement gave him more ammunition. Nancy had told HPD her mom and dad had been arguing more and more. That night, her little brother broke their father's radio, and they'd both been sent to their rooms. Not long before bedtime, she'd heard her mother screaming. In a drunken rage, her dad was threatening to give Larry a beating. There'd been two loud bangs. Wise beyond her years, the little girl had told the investigators she knew her mom and brother were dead. Convinced she could be next, she'd fled to her hiding place. The closet in her parents' room. She'd buried herself in a basket of clothes so she wouldn't be seen. It was there that she'd discovered the loaded gun. When her father found her, she panicked, and the gun went off accidentally, hitting him in the thigh, and he'd bled out in front of her.

In the latest round of nightmares, Nancy had been replaced by Grace. And Danny was the angry father with a shotgun. He couldn't shake that feeling. He'd always been afraid there was a monster inside him. Could he kill his son and daughter? Part of him screamed no, yet, he was so unsure of anything.

Danny was drowning in a sea of emotions. He knew it was the drugs. The potent cocktail set ablaze by their perp had side effects. They'd been warned to take it easy. To rest. This thought made him laugh as he ripped the head off the doll.

H50 H50 H50 H50 H50

When Steve sprang forward, making a grab for the doll, his partner reacted. Danny twisted his body, cradling the toy to his chest like it was alive. The two men crashed into the bedside table, upending the piece of furniture and sending the contents flying.

Danny grunted as he bounced off the table, Steve's weight pinning him to the floor. And unrelenting, Steve kept him there, snatching Grace's treasured keepsake the instant he could. He tossed it unceremoniously across the room as a stunned Danny watched, unable to do anything but catch his breath.

The second Steve gave him space to move, Danny pushed up onto all fours, shoving his friend off him. He glared at Steve before he made for the doll like a petulant child. Glass crunched under his hands as he crawled over his daughter's stuff. A broken photo frame containing a picture of Grace and Charlie playing in the surf lay alongside a broken lamp and the contents of her jewelry box. He immediately froze, forgetting where he was heading, as a burning sensation sliced through his hand.

"What's wrong, Danno?" Steve was immediately up onto his knees.

Danny sat back on his calves holding his hand to his chest.

"Let me take a look." Steve shuffled closer and took hold of Danny's wrist, easing his arm down towards him. "You're gonna need stitches."

"Hurts." Danny stared blankly at his bloodied palm.

"Looks like you've reopened the original wound and added another to boot. Let's get you up and then I'll find something to wrap it with."

Not waiting for a response, Steve helped his much too pliable friend to stand. He guided him towards the bed, gently pushing him down onto it. "Don't move I'll just be a minute."

"Cupboard… kitchen."

Steve hesitated, unsure of his friend's state of consciousness.

Danny sensed his friend's uncertainty and looked up to meet his gaze. "M'good. First aid kits above the coffee machine."

H50 H50 H50 H50 H50

Steve stopped abruptly in the doorway, his heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat. His partner was perched on the end of the bed, his expression one of sorrow, as he stared down at the doll lying in his lap. The head had been reattached, but the hair was no longer neatly tied back. It looked wild and unruly. Danny's blood stained the pretty pink dress it wore.

"It was Grace's third birthday. I picked it up on my way home from work. Darn thing had to go everywhere with us." Danny wiped at the tears streaming down his face with the back of his hand. "What the hell is the matter with me?"

"It's alright to fall apart sometimes." Steve closed the space between him and his friend.

"Only sometimes? Seems to be my specialty of late."

"Hey, stop that." Steve crouched down in front of Danny and started sorting through the medical supplies he'd gathered. "I know you don't want to, but I think you should talk to someone."

"By someone, you mean a shrink?"

"Yes. A medical professional." Steve sighed. "If it were a simple case of just dealing with the after effects of some drugs I wouldn't suggest it. But..."

"But we summoned up some crazy shit. Trust me I know. What about you, huh? Maybe we should both get some help."

"Nah, I'm fine." Steve applied pressure with some gauze pads to the wound.

"So you've found what you're looking for with that thousand yard stare of yours?"

Steve ignored the question focusing instead on wrapping Danny's hand.

"You think I haven't seen you in the middle of the night, sitting on the floor, in the corner of your room?"

"We should get you to the hospital. Get changed. I'll go do the same." Steve headed for the door. "Keep it elevated."

"Not going anywhere. Not until you admit you need help too."

Knowing how stubborn his friend could be Steve conceded defeat and dropped down next to him. He grabbed Danny's arm and lifted it skywards. "What'd I say?"

They both focused on Danny's injured hand, neither man willing to look at the other.

"I'll see someone if you do too." Danny's gaze landed back on the doll.

Steve gently straightened the frilly dress. "We can fix her up later. Put her clothes in cold water to soak before we leave."

"Figured you'd know that with your blood stain tally."

"Yeah, well I've learnt a few tricks over the years."

Danny's mind wandered as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair. "She haunts my every dream."

Steve closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He knew how hard this was for Danny having kids of his own. Hell, he was struggling to come to terms with it himself.

"The little girl appears in mine. I looked her up. She passed nine years ago. Breast cancer. She was brought up by her aunt. Never married or had kids." Steve pulled him into a sideways hug. "I'll book us in with a Navy psych I know."

Danny rested his head on Steve and yawned. "Thanks, babe. Means a lot."

Steve stifled a yawn of his own. "We'd better go, sleepyhead, before we both fall asleep."

"That would be new. Us sleeping?" Danny shifted over, towards the center of the bed and lay down. "My hand can wait."

"No it can't. Either get changed or go as you are. Your choice. Or do you want me to undress you like Grace's doll?" Steve looked over his shoulder at his dozing partner.

"Don't you dare." Danny stretched his legs and poked Steve in the back with his toes. "Get outta here. I'll get ready."

"Hurry up or that cut's gonna be a bitch to stitch." Steve picked up the doll and headed for the door. "I'll sort out our little friend here too."

"I always thought of you as more of an action figure sorta guy."

"Funny, Danno. Very funny."

~ the end ~