Author's Note: Just a one-shot that interrupted my reading for Property tonight. This was inspired by the one-year anniversary of my graduation from college.

I feel bad putting out these one-shots when I have other stories on the backburners, but one can't help the muse. This one is some kind of record for me, as I wrote it in one afternoon.

As always, reviews are treasured.

Disclaimer: No infringement intended – this is written purely for personal enjoyment/entertainment. Other people own Hawaii 5.0 and characters. I only own the plot.

The Art of Transition

He didn't expect to be alone at 33.

That certainly wasn't part of the plan he'd envisioned for his life.

And he's not just alone, but divorced; forced to stand by while another man fills the role of husband to his wife, plays step-father to his daughter. He'd failed his marriage, and the stigma of that failure feels like a heavy weight he carries on his shoulders every waking minute of every day. The sun here is bright; the air is clear – but all Danny sees is grey, and there's a taste of bitterness on his tongue.

He couldn't have anticipated that he'd be starting his life over in Hawaii, of all places. Danny, who in his whole life had never strayed from the east coast, had chosen the sweltering hell of sun and sand – a treacherous sliver of land surrounded by a vast expanse of terrifying blue – over the veritable paradise of concrete and smog.

But it wasn't a choice – not really. Not when Grace was involved. Danny's entire outlook on life had changed the moment he held that tiny wrinkled bundle in his arms at the hospital eight years ago. That day, the street-wise New Jersey detective became a father, his heart filled to the brim with raw emotion for this precious life. He'll never forget the instance he felt a new and fierce protectiveness consume him, and realized that his sole purpose in life was to love this little girl, that every tear she cried would rip out a part of his soul, and he would do everything in his power to keep her happy and whole.

She was the only pure and innocent thing in his life – the one good thing he'd done – and sometimes it scares him, when he realizes the lengths to which he would go to keep her safe. In his darker, more reflective moments, he realizes with calm resignation that if Grace were taken from this earth, he would have no reason to be here. He could not fathom the agony of losing her, for she is so often the only light in his dark world. He has been left jaded from years of pain on the job and in his personal life; he needs those bright, innocent brown eyes and that warm, trusting smile to remind him of the good.

Grace is his life, plain and simple. So when Danny says he didn't choose to move to Hawaii, he means it. He no more chose to be here than one chooses to breathe, to swallow, or to blink.

But of course, it isn't easy. Steve once told him that Hawaii means "homeland," but it isn't his. He misses New Jersey so much that it often physically hurts – like a dull ache in his gut that he can never quite pinpoint.

Concrete and smog, it was – but it was his concrete. His smog. Oftentimes, he can close his eyes and smell the city, a mixture of dogwood, burnt rubber, fresh pizza, and exhaust - which he would much prefer to the fresh scent of saltwater, not because it is better, but because it is familiar. He can lay awake at night in his apartment, and if he tries hard enough, can go back there in his mind – can hear the sounds of cars honking and people bustling about, can feel the aura of the city around him – his city. The place where he grew up, his stomping grounds: the streets, buildings, and people he knows like the back of his hand.

Hawaii is like a foreign country to him. Exotic yes, but full of the unknown. He's more than a little aquaphobic, though he tries to hide it. Merely the idea that he is on a small bit of volcanic rock located in the middle of the Pacific ocean is overwhelming. He's never liked the water, not since he nearly drowned in his uncle's backyard pool at the age of 6. Now, he cannot escape it.

His worst nightmares, which occur more frequently than he would ever admit, regularly consist of the horrors of the deep – hurricanes, tsunamis, deadly ocean currents, giant sea creatures, the tendrils of panic that clutch him as he drowns. Then he jerks awake with a gasp, covered in cold sweat, trembling, haunted by his fears, and very much alone. Always, alone.

His daughter keeps him sane, but that only takes the edge off the loneliness. It's hard to keep in touch with his old friends in New Jersey, especially considering the time difference and the demanding hours he works. Even then, it isn't the same. He's tried settling into this new life, but feels forever out of place. A haole, a foreigner. He has a grand total of three people who have his back on this Island – Steve, Chin, and Kono – and while he wouldn't trade any of them, he still feels the pain of detachment.

It's been two years, and he still hasn't found his niche. He's still not adjusted to this new life.

It's moments like this – sitting in his cramped, air-conditioned apartment on a lazy Sunday afternoon, when it all threatens to overtake him.

He sits in his armchair, remote in hand, aimlessly flipping through channels and wondering what Grace is up to, since he couldn't have her this weekend. It's raining today – he can count on both hands the number of times it's really rained this year, and that makes it all the more gloomy. He winces as he shifts in the chair – old bruises from 5.0's last case causing him discomfort. A wayward fly buzzes about his head, but he doesn't even have the heart to swat at it. This is what his life has come to. Thirty-three and alone.

Danny leans forward, ignoring the hum of the TV, rests his elbows on his knees and puts his head in his hands. He prays that someday this will get easier – because God help him, it's been too hard. The past few years have been damn near unbearable, and though he's ashamed of how weak he sounds as he inwardly begs God to just give him a break, he does it anyway. And if a few tears slip out of his eyes to slide down the cracks his fingers make as they hide his face, he doesn't care. He's that broken.

He doesn't know how long he stays like that – time has little meaning when he's not with Grace or at work – but eventually he's startled by a loud and incessant pounding at the door. He frowns and walks over to look out the peephole, eyes widening at what he sees.

"Danno, open up! It's pouring out here!"

Danny can't recall actually opening the door, but seconds later his three teammates are stumbling inside his apartment, soaked to the skin and struggling to carry multiple grocery bags filled with pizza, chips, and beer.

"What is this?" He asks, truly perplexed.

"Well, it's supposed to be a party, but the pizza might be a little waterlogged," Chin answers, grinning.

Steve straightens from setting the beer down on Danny's coffee table, then shakes his head fiercely, sending a shower of water droplets about the living room.

"Hey, hey, hey! What is the matter with you? You're not a dog! Go get yourself a towel from the bathroom, you animal!" Danny rants loudly as some of the wetness splatters on his face and shirt.

Kono and Chin laugh at the outburst and Steve's feigned look of confusion.

"It seems our fearless leader either doesn't own or refuses to wear a raincoat, so he got a little more wet than we did," Chin explains, tossing his and Kono's jackets on a nearby chair.

"I can see that. I swear he needs to be housebroken," Danny mutters as the SEAL heads off to the bathroom.

"We have a lot of food, Danny, so I hope you're hungry," Kono announces, unpacking more of the groceries. "I even made some of my special salsa," she adds with a wink.

"Oh, yeah? What's the occasion?" Danny asks curiously. He is dumbfounded as to why they would be here on a rainy Sunday afternoon, when they could be doing a million other things.

"You're the occasion," Steve calls out as he walks back into the living room, still rubbing a towel furiously over his damp head.

He has one of his stupid sentimental grins on his face, the kind that is disarming in its authenticity.

"'Scuse me?" Danny frowns, confused.

"Come on, brah. You should know it's your two year anniversary of moving to Hawaii," Kono says lightly as she playfully punches his arm.

"Figured we'd celebrate the Jersey boy's ability to survive the horrors of paradise," Steve adds, teasing. He claps Danny hard on the shoulder, for good measure.

"I survived you, McGarrett. For that, I deserve a freaking medal."

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving," Chin says, opening one of the pizza boxes.

Danny's breath hitches in his throat when he notices that it's real pizza. Pizza the way he likes it. No pineapple, no ham, just mozzarella cheese, sauce, pepperoni and dough. The kind of pizza they make back home.

It's absurd to him that his eyes grow misty over such a sight. It's such a small thing, but touching nonetheless.

His apartment, which just moments ago seemed so empty, is now full of life as Chin and Kono argue about what to watch on TV over the loud rustles of chip bags and fizzle-pops of opened bottles of beer.

Steve still stands near Danny, manhandling several slices of pizza onto a paper plate.

"How did you know?" The shorter man asks, embarrassed when his voice cracks a little.

"Well, you always complain about Hawaiian pizza, so…."

"No. How did you know that two years ago today, I moved to Hawaii?"

Steve shrugs. "It was in your records."

Danny squints at the taller man, baffled. "So what, you just randomly go looking into my history?"

"No, I just remembered the date. I'm kinda good with numbers. Relax, Danny," he adds, nudging his partner's shoulder.

"Well, I guess I'll have to add that to the list of your superpowers, then."

Steve snorts. "It's more of a quirk than a superpower."

"You know I actually believe that," Danny retorts with a grin. "I believe that anything less than leaping tall buildings in a single bound would be considered a mere quirk to a guy like you."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Whatever, Danno."

"Hey Danny, I brought some movies, just in case there was nothing on TV," Kono calls from the couch. "Which there isn't. And I can make popcorn."

"Let's see what you got," Chin says, rummaging through the plastic bag of DVDs she tossed him. "Ghostbusters…Airplane…Monty Python…Groundhog Day…damn, you got all the classics, 'cuz."

"Thanks, Chin. I like to think I have good taste," Kono replied with mock arrogance. She'd deliberately chosen comedies that did not have any obvious references to family or fatherhood, knowing Danny would be missing Grace tonight.

Danny just stands rooted to the same spot, looking lost as he watches his friends essentially take over his apartment. Minutes ago he'd been sulking in the depths of self-pity and despair – and now his friends were here throwing a party in his honor. It was almost surreal.

"You okay there, partner?" Steve asks quietly, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Yeah I just…I really appreciate this. Thanks."

Steve just nods, knowingly. No more words need to be said.

Danny expected to struggle with adjusting to his new life here. And it's taken longer than he could have ever imagined adjusting to tiniest of differences, but having friends like this makes it okay.

He isn't alone, here – and that makes all the difference.

He didn't choose to move to Hawaii. But maybe, just maybe, he will choose to stay. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. Maybe someday, this place will be his home, too.

El fin.