Yes, still more religious debate and a resolution.

Godless

Chapter 3 - Amen

Danny sounded exhausted. Kono wanted to put her arms around him, but was afraid to spoil the flow of words that, maybe, seemed to be helping her friend.

"I think the last straw was the 6-month-old baby shotgunned in her crib by her father. He wanted to die and thought it was his right, his duty to take the rest of his family with him." Remembered nausea was evident in Danny's voice.

"Didn't you ever see good things?" the minister asked. "No spontaneous acts of kindness?"

"Yes," Danny acknowledged. "I saw neighbors take in orphans, a teenage boy who sacrificed his life to save two little girls he didn't even know. Even 9/11 — people came from everywhere to help after 9/11."

"A lot of those people came from churches," Jan commented. "And I've seen a lot of work teams organized to help after disasters — 9/11, Haiti, Katrina."

Danny nodded. "I've seen a church open its doors to a Muslim congregation burned out of their mosque by a hate crime. I never said churches were bad. Churches do a lot of good in the community — food pantries, homeless shelters."

Jan shook her head in amazement. "You surprise me," she said. "I've met people who believe in God, but not in organized religion; but you're the first person I've met who believes in churches, but not God."

Danny met her eyes. "I believe that good and evil are in people, not in God and the Devil. Churches are just another nonprofit to me. They help a lot of people just like the Red Cross and Little League."

"Steve told me you said 'people make up things to make themselves feel better.'"

Danny gave Steve a reproachful look for betraying his trust. His partner looked abashed. "I never told anyone else," he said. The astonished expressions on Chin and Kono's faces bore out his claim. "I just thought Jan ought to know."

Danny hung his head, sure that he had been diminished in his friends' eyes. "I can't believe in a higher power, not one that cares and watches over us. I've seen men and women killed for the most stupid, paltry reasons. I've seen the body of a 3-year-old killed by her own mother. The body was left where feral dogs half tore it apart and where two 12-year-old boys stumbled across it — literally. If that's God guiding our every move, I don't want any part of him." He glanced sidelong at the cousins. "I'm sorry."

Kono just reached over to hug him. She rested her chin on his shoulder.

"I can't believe you don't believe," Kono said. "You gave me a religious medal for my graduation."

"I didn't say I wasn't superstitious," Danny answered.

Chin said affectionately, "It's OK, brah. You're wrong, just like you're wrong about pineapple on pizza, but we love you anyway."

"Your pain is our pain, brother." Steve stood behind Danny's chair with his hands on his friend's shoulder.

The minister said, "I don't subscribe to the 'everything happens for a reason' philosophy, Danny. But everything that happens makes us who we are. Every triumph and tragedy leads us on a path to our future life — but we choose our own path, Danny," Jan said emphatically. "We can fight or we can surrender. We can turn to God or turn away. You can become a horrible example or a positive role model. I could have chosen death when my daughter died, but I claimed life. Now you have that choice."

"You know she's right, Danny. Look at us," Kono said. "If you hadn't gotten divorced, you'd never have come to Hawaii. If I hadn't blown out my knee, I'd never have become a cop."

"If I hadn't been kicked out of HPD, I'd never have joined Five-0," Chin added.

Steve was nodding. "I told you once, partner, that the death of my mother made me who I am. And the death of my father brought me home." He shook his head. "Five-0 was built on tragedy. And deceit," he muttered to himself. "But look at all the lives we've saved. Look at the ohana we've built. Danny, we're your friends. Don't push us away now."

"Maybe I'd rather believe God doesn't exist than to believe he hates me so much," Danny answered, his voice full of pain. "Have I been a bad person, catching killers, saving lives? What have I got to show for it? Bupkes! Oh I know there are other people worse off than I am, but I'm tired of being knocked down every time I get up. In the last two years I lost my daughter when my ex moved to Hawaii and lost the rest of my family when I chose to follow Grace. I lost my chance at reconciliation with Rachel and my chance to have a second child. I lost my job. I lost my apartment. Even my dog died! Grace is the one good, pure thing in my life and now she's lying on an operating table because of a God damned freak accident!"

Danny pulled away and began pacing. He rubbed at his eyes, but his tears kept flowing. His friends' concern had unfrozen his emotions again. Images of his injured daughter played across his memory like a horror movie. He wiped at his face repeatedly, but couldn't stop the tears.

"If this is God's love, you can have it. No good is going to come out of Grace being hurt," he shouted. "I saw her hit by a car, and I couldn't help her. She was lying on the ground unconscious, and I couldn't help her! Now she's on the operating table, and I CAN'T HELP HER!"

He staggered and Steve leaped to support him. Danny bunched his fists and Steve braced himself for blows that he wouldn't try to avoid, but, instead, Danny caught fistfuls of Steve's T-shirt, gripping tightly as if clinging to a lifeline.

"I can't help her, Steve," he said hoarsely, agony in his blue eyes. "I can't even pray for her."

Danny was shaking like a man with a fever. Steve wondered with shame why he hadn't noticed how desperately unhappy his friend had become. Danny had never been a happy person as long as Steve had known him. The detective had been the first to say so. But since joining Five-0 he'd seen his brother become a fugitive and had the chance of regaining his family snatched away. Steve's own heedless actions had temporarily cost his friend his job and contributed to his stress, and now Grace's accident had shattered him.

Steve wrapped his arms around his friend, enveloping him in love the way he'd seen Danny envelope Grace. "You're not alone, Danny."

Kono stood up and embraced the two men. "We'll pray for Grace if you can't, Danny," she said in sympathy. "We've been praying all along."

Chin wrapped his arms around them, surrounding Danny with their love. He nodded agreement with Kono. "It doesn't matter if you speak to God. He hears your heart. He knows how much you love your daughter."

"Thousands of people are praying for her. You know that," Jan said. "Strangers who heard about it on the news are praying for the children, strangers who believe in the power of prayer. Whatever you believe, Danny, Grace is not alone in there."

Danny gulped down his tears and nodded. There was something reassuring about Jan's belief, even if he couldn't agree.

"And you're not alone here," Steve said in his friend's ear.

Five-0 stood together and slowly Danny's shaking subsided. He said he only believed in what he could hear and see, but that wasn't true. He believed in justice and in helping others. He believed in love. A person might say that Danny Williams was a man without faith, but that wasn't true, either, because he had faith in his friends. He stood by them when they needed him. They stood by him when he was afraid and when he was angry and even when he was a jerk. They loved him even when he disrespected their home and their culture. Faith, hope and love — Danny couldn't get away from them, and hope was what he needed right now.

Danny took a deep breath, wiped his eyes and pulled away, giving each of his friends a pat on the arm or a squeeze on the shoulder, as he stood again firmly on his own two feet.

"You said people make up stuff to make themselves feel better," Jan teased mildly, thinking Danny needed a break from strong emotions. "Do you feel better?"

"A little," Danny admitted. "More calm, more in control, but I won't feel all right until I know about Grace."

"She's going to be OK, Danny," Steve said bracingly.

"Yes, she's going to be OK," a new voice said from the door.

Jan had seen Grace's surgeon coming and knew from his jaunty stride and pleased smile that the operation had gone well. She had gestured him into her office.

"This is Dr. Fujita. He was the one operating on Grace," the minister told Danny, then turned to the surgeon. "This is Grace's father, Detective Williams."

"She's OK?" Danny said hopefully.

"She will be — barring complications," he added, just in case. "She has a moderate concussion, no sign of a skull fracture. We set the arm and operated to repair lacerations to her liver and spleen. Everything went well and she's already starting to wake up. We're trying to reassure her, but she's scared and confused and asking for her mommy and Danno."

"Her mom's in Denver," Steve said, when Danny seemed unable to speak. "But Danno's right here." He gave his friend a small push forward. "Go see your daughter." As Danny started out in haste, Steve yelled after him, "But wash your face first. You'll scare her."

He watched Danny duck into a restroom to splash water on his tear-stained face, then the commander held out his hand to the chaplain. "Mahalo for everything."

"I didn't do much. Just helped take his mind off," Jan answered. "And I enjoyed the debate."

"If there's anything Five-0 can ever do for you, let us know," Steve offered, as Chin and Kono filed out the door.

"Thank you, but, ah, considering our professions, I hope we never need each other's services again," Jan said.

Steve smiled and answered, "Amen."

The following Monday, Jan Matheson was feeling uplifted. On Sunday, she had been invited to a nearby church as a guest preacher. She enjoyed her work as a counselor, but it was nice to revitalize her preaching skills once in awhile. The congregation had been so receptive, so positive about her work as a chaplain.

A knock on her open door interrupted her reverie.

"Can we come in?" Danny Williams asked.

When she answered in the affirmative, he wheeled in a 9-year-old girl with her arm in a cast. The youngster looked pale, but was smiling.

"You must be Grace," Jan said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," the girl said stoutly.

"No, no, no. Don't give a McGarrett answer," Danny scolded fondly.

Grace giggled. "My arm aches and my side hurts, but it's not bad, Danno, really."

"And your head?"

"Just a little headache." She crossed her heart to prove she was telling the truth.

"I guess the doctors agree, because they say she can go home this afternoon," Danny admitted. "And since they finally cleared the roads in Denver, her Mom will be home tomorrow."

"And I can go back to school next week," Grace said cheerfully.

Danny couldn't believe she didn't have nightmares about school, but she had been looking at him at the time of the accident. She never saw the car coming. She didn't remember anything between standing on the corner and waking up in the hospital.

"She's bouncing back faster than I am," Danny told the minister. "I'm the one having nightmares."

Grace patted her father's arm. "I'm OK, Danno."

Danny smiled at her concern. "Danno loves you, monkey."

"Love you more," the girl countered.

"We've got to get back," Danny told Jan. "Grace just wanted to meet you."

"Thank you for taking care of Danno when he was scared," the girl said.

"You're welcome, Grace. Any you, too, Danny," Jan answered.

"Yeah, about that," Danny pulled a check out of his pocket and handed it to Jan. It was made out for $1,000 — a lot of money for the Five-0 detective, Jan guessed — but the "pay to the order of" line was left blank.

"Use it to help someone else," Danny said. "You know, 'pay it forward.' I figured you'd know someone who needed help, a family, an organization, several groups — whatever."

"You're trusting me with a blank check?" Jan teased.

Danny shrugged. "Hey, if you think you need the money most, go for it. I may not have a lot of faith in religion, but I'm a good judge of character."

"Then thank you for having faith in me."

As Danny wheeled Grace away, Jan glanced again at the check and this time noticed the note on the memo line. "People helping people, that's what I have faith in," it read. She chuckled. Jan remembered Steve saying that Danny wasn't a spiritual man, but he was a good man.

Who says good isn't good enough?

The End