AN: This story was inspired by The everlasting ghost of once was by moogsthewriter. It's brilliantly written but left me wanting more, so I wrote my own take on a similar theme. This is my first fic (though I'm a long-time reader), so encouragement and constructive criticism are welcome!

This is a slight AU, mainly applying to my take on Danny's family/past. Set in season one, but explores some things from later seasons.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters.

Warnings: mentions of past child abuse

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The thing is, Kono really should've known better.

The first hint was an odd quirk during their weekly secret surf lessons. Danny Willimas had hesitantly shown up to the first lesson, appearing almost shy when he joined her in the early morning hours at a deserted beach dressed in swim trunks and a three-quarter sleeve swim shirt.

"You don't need that, brah," she had commented, gesturing at the shirt. "The water here is way warmer than in New Jersey."

Expecting a cheeky retort, Kono was surprised when Danny stiffly replied,"I'll keep that in mind."

The shirt appeared at every surf lesson after, and no other comment was made. Even during the post-work barbecues at the beach in Steve's backyard, Danny's t-shirt remained stubbornly on his body despite the constant jibes at his developing farmer's tan. Eventually, Kono dismissed it as another idiosyncrasy that created the enigma that was Detective Danny Williams. Just as Steve had a borderline obsession with shucking his shirt while diving headfirst into trouble, Danny blatantly refused to take off his own. After all, Danny adamantly endorsed a professional dress-code that traced back to his time on the mainland. That was all this was, Kono thought, a haole thing.

Danny Williams was a unique individual, different from anyone she had ever known. A haole through and through, he wore his mainlander status like a badge of honor. He bemoaned his presence on this "pineapple infested hellhole" with very little consideration for who witnessed his hand-waving rants. In his mind, the greatness of his home state was unparalleled in every conceivable category and he spared no effort in convincing all within earshot of this. There was little malice behind his long-winded complaints, and Kono learned to sit back and watch the fireworks (often feeding the flames when necessary).

Danny's reaction to talk of her extended family was another signal. When she asked for permission to clock out early for a family dinner, it was difficult to miss the flash of wistful longing on Chin's face or Steve eyeing her like she had just kicked his puppy. However, Danny's expression was carved from stone with eyes that shone with hurt and the slightest bit of anger. He often found an excuse to flee the room entirely when she regaled the team with stories of her cousins and aunts and uncles.

When she mentioned her family, she knew Steve was thinking of the tombstones that held the remains of his family. Chin was reflecting on his exile, probably remembering a time when he was welcome at that table. Yet Kono could not understand the root of Danny's bitterness and eventually, she stopped trying to understand.

There were other signs too, she recalled, as she gaped at the bare back on display in front of her. Though Danny's swagger and snark screamed confidence, his self-esteem was bruised to the point of non-existence. He possessed a calm, empathetic manner with victims that neither the years of experience of her cousin or her fresh-faced innocence could replicate. Rebellion seemed embedded in his DNA, even as he stubbornly quoted procedure and regulations.

But most of all, she saw it in his protectiveness. Danny always positioned himself in such a way that would allow him to respond quickly to any threat to his team or civilians. In moments where they returned fire side by side, Kono noticed Danny instinctively angling himself to shield her with his own body. He fought against her going undercover more than even Chin, something that had amused her to no end.

She wasn't laughing now.

As her gaze locked on the unnaturally-still form of Danny Williams, she recalled each of these signs through the perfect lens of hindsight. Her eyes welled with tears, taking in the criss-crossing tracks of long, jagged scars across his back. Though faded, they stood in stark contrast against the bits of unblemished flesh in between. Even the new, blistering burn reddening across his lower back failed to draw attention away from the heartbreaking tale laid bare in old wounds. She didn't realize she was biting her lip until the metallic taste of blood registered against her tongue.

"I'd like to put my shirt back on."

The request, made in a tone opposite of the usual snark that laced the voice, shattered the suffocating silence. She completely missed Steve's equally solemn reply, blinking for what felt like the first time in an eternity when the tattered shirt safely hid the tapestry of scars from view once more.

Yes, she thought as Danny all but fled from the scene, she should've known better.

~

The thing is, Chin really should've known better.

The first hint was a barely restrained flinch during one of Danny's playful arguments with Steve. When Steve's voice rose as he eloquently defended his point of view, the SEAL unconsciously moved a step further into Danny's personal bubble. The detective instinctively recoiled, something akin to fear skirting across his expression before he smoothly recovered his composure. It happened so quickly that Chin almost missed it, and he nearly dismissed it completely as the banter continued with no sign of the interruption.

Chin prided himself on his ability to observe - a skill he honed during years on the force - and perhaps this quality was the reason he found himself noticing the Jersey transplant's odd, physical tells that seemed to contradict one another. Danny shied away from touch - even displays of affection from his own teammates - yet he had no problem initiating touch himself. He often hugged Kono during a tough case, patted Steve on the back after another job well done, or squeezed Chin's shoulder as a reminder that Danny had Chin's back no matter what. Any attempt to reciprocate was avoided or rebuffed.

Danny also had an uncanny sense of when someone was behind him. He hated it when Steve walked in his blindspot, often allowing his partner to walk ahead of him. Steve joked that it was a sign of unhealthy paranoia, though Danny always shot back some comment about "the Steve McGarrett Danger Magnet."

It all made sense now, Chin realized when he laid eyes on the assembly of old wounds littering the detective's back and shoulders. Part of what made Danny so good at his job was his drive, his determination to put the perp behind bars so they couldn't hurt anyone else ever again. He could always find a drug stash or other damning evidence when he searched a crime scene or suspect's residence, like he knew where to look.

Above all, he saw it in the cloud of loneliness that surrounded the blonde man. Though cut off from his family, Chin still had connections and friends who still talked to him. He always knew that someone was only a phone call away if he wanted company - if he needed a friend - despite his exile from the vast majority of his former support system. Danny, however, had no one save his daughter and his team. He never had plans after work - unless it was one of the few days he had Grace - and he stayed at the office long after Chin said his goodbyes. His phone never rang for any reason outside of a case or Grace.

The few times Chin had seen him outside of work and team gatherings, Danny was at a small bar run by one of Chin's cousins drinking alone at the counter. Chin offered for Danny to join his own group of friends for a round, but the younger man always declined. Fighting to breathe past the growing lump in his throat, he remembered a promise made at that very bar only a month ago. I'm in your corner 1000%, he had said. How had he dropped that ball so spectacularly?

The analytical side of Chin assessed each mark and listed possible implements used to cause them. Swallowing back sour bile, he dismissed the growing mental inventory of instruments unkindly applied to his friend's flesh. He'd never seen anything like this before, not in all his years on the force. Unable to look any longer, he turned his attention to his cousin and his boss. Kono's face radiated a mix of shock and horror, her hand covering her mouth as she took in the grisly image.

Steve's face could've been carved from stone, but grief and rage oozed equally from his eyes. His hand, raised to examine the burn across his friend's lower back, hung frozen in midair between Danny's back and his side. Chin briefly wondered if Steve knew before this moment; he and Danny were more than partners, their bond was that of two brothers. Judging by the clenched jaw, Chin dismissed the thought. He knew that look. Danny was going to have some explaining to do, and Steve was going to get that explanation whether Danny liked it or not.

Turning his attention back to the Jersey detective, he observed the slumped shoulders and the head bowed in shame. Danny's fists were knotted at his sides, standing firm against the scrutiny of his team and gawkers from HPD and SWAT. After half a minute that stretched for eternity, he finally spoke.

"I'd like to put my shirt back on."

It was more of a statement than a request, though he waited until Steve replied to pull his ruined shirt back on. He didn't even bother to button it as he all but bolted to the camaro, his shoulders braced as though he was expecting a blow. Chin heard the whispers of officers following the man and his heart ached for Danny. Word would spread and Danny would lose any shred of respect he'd fought so hard to gain over his time at HPD and Five-0.

Yes, he thought as he turned back to manage the scene, he should've known better.

~

The thing is, Steve really should've known better.

The first hint was in the flood of words that seemed to flow out of his partner's mouth every hour of every day. Danny ranted like it was a professional sport. He could complain about anything; in fact, he seemed to see it as a challenge to cover every topic known to man. Hawaii was his preferred theme, not limited to the sand, the sun, the heat, the storms, the ocean, the mountains, the "jungle" (rainforest, Danny!), and the sins of his past life that condemned him to partner with a neanderthal animal named Steve McGarrett.

Yet for all of Danny's talking, he never said anything. His words were a wall that helped him deflect, evade, and dismiss all personal inquiries. Steve realized that - though Danny talked about the great state of New Jersey with annoying frequency - he never really talked about his life there besides his favorite restaurants. Any attempt to pry led to a lecture about boundaries and control issues that once again diverted the conversation away from his past. Steve couldn't share many details about his past either, but he told what stories he could. Danny, on the other hand, was a closed book.

It came to a head one morning on their way to a crime scene. Danny was still waking up in the passenger seat, grumbling under his breath about the criminal element's disrespect for a good night's sleep as he scalded his mouth with the sludge he called coffee. They were driving along the coast when Steve pointed out a splintered, sun-bleached dock up ahead.

"You see that dock, Danny?" He waited for a grunt of acknowledgement, then checked to see if his partner was actually looking. "My old man used to take me fishing there every Saturday before I started playing football."

"What, were Saturday morning cartoons too tame for you, SuperSEAL?"

"That's funny. Not everyone wanted to spend their childhood rotting their brains in front of the TV, Danny." Steve's head swiveled his head as they passed the spot. "I can't believe it's still there."

"Yeah, it's still there so other people can torture themselves by sitting in the humidity all for the chance to catch a little tiny fish they'll throw back anyway. But nooooo, you and your dad just had to take it a step further and risk life and limb by stepping foot on that pile of driftwood you call a dock." Danny's arms were waving now. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me that he took you through forced marches through the jungle or on Army Jr. training exercises!"

"Navy, Danny." The correction was automatic at this point in their friendship. "And it's a rainforest, not a jungle."

"Torture by any other name."

"And your father/son activities were so much better?"

"They were something else, all right," Danny mumbled into his cup of coffee. "Now, Grace and I really know how to do father/daughter outings. This weekend we're going to…"

Grace, now there was another sign. You had to be blind, deaf, and possibly dead to miss Danny's love for his daughter. When Danny claimed Grace was his life, he wasn't kidding. He lit up when she was around, her sweet voice could calm any verbal storm. However, Danny was blind to how great of a dad he was. He questioned every decision he made; whether the tickets to the zoo were good enough because Stan had bought her a horse and how could a guy on a cop's salary possibly measure up? Even his choice of profession threw doubt on his ability to be a good father, and damn it all, Steve wanted to deck Rachel just a little bit for feeding that particular flame.

Gulping back the flood of questions threatening to pour from his mouth, Steve halted his instinctive reach towards his friend. The map of scars adorning his partner's back told a pain-filled tale and Steve was overwhelmed by it. He was a soldier, a Navy SEAL for crying out loud! He'd seen things that would drive most men into a psychiatric facility with hardly a blink. He and his buddies made it a regular pastime to boast about their own collection of scars, telling the harrowing stories that led to them.

Yet these jagged, criss-crossing lines covering every inch of visible flesh horrified him more than anything in the field ever could.

A wave of emotions swept over him, drowning Steve more effectively than the ocean surrounding his island. Murderous hatred boiled in his gut, anger threatening to take over his body until he made someone pay for those scars. Sorrow was equally strong. A part of him - the one that saw Danny as the brother he never had - wanted to gather the blonde detective in his arms and promise everything would be okay. But deep in his heart, betrayal irritated his psyche like a grain of sand that had slipped through the cracks of his shell. Somehow, he doubted it would turn into a pearl.

"Danno?" The name slipped out without his consent.

Why didn't you tell me?

Now he understood Danny's almost stifling protectiveness for his daughter. The suspicious glares thrown Stan's way anytime the stepfather came near Grace gained an entirely new meaning. Danny's frantic babbling when he got a phone call saying Grace was either sick or injured no longer seemed unreasonable. Even Danny's dedication to his job was illuminated by this discovery. "This is Grace's home now," he had said. "It's my job to keep it safe." It all made sense now.

"I'd like to put my shirt back on."

Words, holding so much pain that it broke Steve's heart clean in two, drew his focus back to Earth. Back in the ruins of a warehouse on Sand Island where a milling crowd of cops and technicians were dissecting his partner with their eyes while he stood frozen in shock. He shook himself, suddenly angry at the distraction he had allowed himself.

"Yeah." He fought to shove the words past the boulder in his throat. "Go on, Danny."

Danny needed no further prompting, throwing on his shirt and almost running for the privacy of his car. Anger turned to rage, which he channeled into a glare directed at the gawkers nearby. Nothing should make his normally-cocky friend flee like that. With a firm tone that brooked no argument, he directed everyone back to the crime scene.

Yes, Steve thought as he glanced one last time at the Camaro disappearing around a bend, he should've known better.

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Please review! I have plans to continue this story unless no one seems interested (though not all chapters will be as long as this one)