Archive of Our Own

Steve prowls the room, still on his adrenaline high, eyes locked on the man curled up in the bed. Danny sleeps the sleep of the heavily sedated, ragged monkey tucked securely under his arm. Even unconscious, he clings to it. Steve huffs out a breath and forces himself to calm the fuck down. He circles back to the bed, touches Danny’s hand tentatively. Part of him still can’t believe it, the other part is jubilant –Danny called. Danny called him. Danny spoke his name.

He takes another calming breath and sits down in the chair by the bed. Its evening now, but he can’t make himself leave. It feels like he’s been alone forever, which is ridiculous, but the truth is he has been waiting, praying for this day for months. Hoping that Danny would come back to him, let Steve in his life again. Steve smiles fondly at the sleeping face of his partner. Even on a heavy drug regime, Danny is still a good detective.

Chin and Kono hauled Fong away in cuffs earlier. The slimy son of a bitch has three priors for sexual assault and a warrant issued for skipping bail. How the hell did he end up working here? Steve has had harsh words with both the personnel manager and Danny’s doctor. Maybe things had gotten a bit heated, but Steve feels justified. After all, Danny tried to talk with his doctor, even written her a note, for Christ’s sake, and her immediate response was to blow him off and drug him to the gills.

The level of sheer rage Steve was feeling is still pretty high. Not only has Danny been right—Fong is one of the worst kinds of sexual predator—but Steve had finally gotten a good look at Danny’s drug schedule as well and nearly blown a gasket. It’s a miracle that Danny could even stay awake and function, much less talk.

He shoots a concerned look at his partner again, reaches compulsively for his hand, checks his pulse. Reassured, he sits quietly, still holding Danny’s hand. He doesn’t kid himself; it’s to reassure him that his partner is still here, still in this world. He clasps the limp fingers and holds on. Chin read Fong’s file to him. Fong hasn’t just abused vulnerable, hospitalized women, but men as well. And while his taste for girls is slight and dark, he has also preyed on short, blond males, raping those drugged and helpless under his care. The thought that Steve could have been too late—too late for Danny as well as Leilani, scares the hell out of him.

So, he closes his eyes and holds on tight to his partner. Danny isn’t alone anymore—neither of them will ever be alone again. Steve will see to that. His days of backing off and waiting are over. Danny is his to take care of and damned if Steve will slack off again. Starting first thing tomorrow, Steve will see to it that Danny gets another doctor—a competent one. Also, he is going to be spending more time with Danny. Danny is on his way back and Steve is going to be there for him every step of the way.

It's everywhere, thick and warm, all over the floor, soaking into the knees of Steve’s cargo pants and puddling on the white tile. Steve is yelling into his cell for an ambulance even as he struggles to stop the flow from Danny’s slashed arms. He yells at Danny too, Danny who is slumped back against the wall, face blank and eyes vacant. Danny is done, Danny has checked out and that more than anything else scares Steve to death. All he can do is wrap towels and his shirt tightly around the deep wounds, keep pressure on and listen for the sirens.

He hears them whisper it sometimes when he passes them in the halls at HPD. Sees the guilty looks as they turn away from their juicy tidbit of gossip when he enters the room. Crazy, you know? McGarrett’s partner went crazy. Oh. They’re all crazy in 5-0. The guy was in a fucking mental institute for years… They scatter like crows under Steve’s cold gaze. How can they not understand? Gracie died. Danny’s little daughter died. What type of person could stay rational and sane after a catastrophic loss like that? Especially the one person who loved her more than anyone else in the world. He ignores them, shakes off his annoyance, and stalks out the door into the bright sunlight. Danny is waiting with lunch for them in the park. Maybe Danno will talk more today, and if Steve tries hard enough and is lucky, he may get a smile as well.

He deals with it every day. Its not as though he has much of a choice. If he wants to live his life he has to and he does, he wants to live. He chooses to get up every day and function. He chose to live and he wants to enjoy this life. Its not that it’s not hard sometimes, it is. Some days he just doesn’t have a damned thing to say to the world and it’s harder without the drugs to cushion things. But he deals. The trick is to recognize how fucking sneaky depression is and being able to acknowledge it when it hits and be able to beat that dark fucker off with a ball bat if necessary before it sinks its fangs too deeply in his psyche.

So, one of his little tricks is that he looks for something beautiful in every day. That rainbow over the valley, the cute surfer chick in the bright yellow bikini, the toddler wobbling determinedly across the grass at the park, that perfect wave as it curves towards the shore. The colorful leis draped over Kamehameha’s statue, the crystal blue of the sky, or the way Kono’s dimples show when she smiles.

Call it visual or art therapy, what ever. It works for him. But what really works for Danny is the goofy smile that spreads over Steve’s face when he looks up from the paperwork on his desk and sees Danny striding into the office, because that smile is his, it belongs to him and he works hard for it every damned day and he deserves it. And if the equally silly smile he gives Steve in return makes Kono and Chin shake their heads and roll their eyes, too bad, because Steve is his too and they can just suck it up and deal.

Steve smiles into blue eyes, whispers good morning in Danny’s ear and nuzzles kisses over his prickly face, lingering on the tender skin around those sleepy eyes. He loves this, waking up next to his partner, tangling their legs together and just holding him close in his arms. Danny yawns and rubs his nose against Steve’s, eyelids drooping closed again, lashes gilded by the morning sun as he sleepily clutches at Steve, one hand curving around Steve’s bicep, the other curled against his chest, warm over his heart.

Steve grins helplessly as Danny snuggles closer against him, one strong, fuzzy thigh thrown possessively over Steve’s hip as he ruthlessly uses his partner as a human body pillow, pushing him back against the mattress and rooting and snuffling under Steve’s chin as he settles in for a few more minutes of sleep, blond head heavy on Steve’s shoulder, hair tickling Steve’s nose.

Danny’s meds are milder now as he is being weaned off them, but waking up still takes a while and Steve is perfectly willing to deal with that. He has no problem with waiting for those clear blue eyes to open again. He hooks the sheet up with his foot and pulls it over them, a warm cotton cocoon for two and tucks his chin over that bright head, just breathing in Danny’s warmth. Another few minutes won’t hurt and his morning swim can wait as well.

“Are you done, yet?”

Danny murmurs it fondly, amused and more than a little aroused as he peers down at the dark head on his chest. Steve is nose deep in Danny’s chest hair and looking downright blissed out about it.

Who knew that Navy SEALs had a thing about blond fur? Or tiny pink nipples for that matter, and he draws in a startled breath when Steve flicks a tongue over one bud, then settles in to suckle gently. Still suckling, Steve raises a heavy-lidded gaze to meet Danny’s and its like McGarrett has discovered a hot link directly to his dick. Steve, the bastard, just smirks when he feels Danny feebly twitch under him and transfers his moist attentions to the other nipple, like he’s afraid it will feel neglected or something.

Danny groans and slams his head back against the couch cushions, eyes closed. Every goddamned nerve he has is tingling and he really wishes his dick would finally get with the program. His meds suck, he decides, and he wonders if he can get the Doc to cut them back more, because this chemical cockblocking is driving him insane.

“You were a titty baby, right? Your mom nursed you for a couple of years, instead of bottle feeding, right?” he grits out, hands tightening on Steve’s wide shoulders, sliding shakily up to tangle in dark hair.

This latest thing is that they have taken to making out on the couch during Bad Movie Night (a tradition that lives on long after the hospital), like a couple of horny teenagers whose parents could pop in at any minute. Hell, tonight Steve had barely slid the DVD in and pressed the play button before he jumped Danny’s bones, pressing him back into the couch, peeling his shirt open and off and tugging his shorts down. So far, they’ve explored each other’s bodies pretty thoroughly for two guys who have never been in a sexual relationship with another man before. Danny suspects that Steve has had more than his fair share of hand jobs and blowjobs—he is a Navy man after all---but this is new turf for Danny.

That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy getting his hands and mouth on that lean, tanned body. Its new and exciting to kiss and touch Steve and watch his face and catalog new expressions, and wow, Orgasm Face is hilarious. Danny has discovered new skills using only tongue and fingers and Steve is very appreciative.

Steve snorts in amusement and releases Danny’s nipple with a small, moist pop and continues to nuzzle southward. He loves Danny’s body, loves the scent, taste and feel of it. Loves the thick golden fuzz on Danny’s chest, loves rubbing his face against it, tasting the salt on his skin. He loves nosing into the musk of Danny’s armpits, rubbing his cheek over broad, furred pecs, down to his toned belly, biting the cut bones of his lean hips. He never thought he would be so glad for Danny’s modesty and his hiding this beautiful ripped body under button downs, slacks and ties.

Steve is perfectly fine with that now, if it keeps others from ogling what’s his.

Steve is a maybe a jealous bastard.

He sighs happily as he tongues Danny’s navel, then scowls when Danny tugs at his hair before he can slide lower and bury his nose in dark gold curls and curl his tongue around rose petal soft skin. He loves sucking Danny’s soft cock, it fits his mouth perfectly and he really doesn’t give a damn if Danny can’t get it up yet—Steve just craves the bittersweet salt taste of him.

“S...S...Steve!”

That last pained note has him raising his head, concerned. Did he hurt him?

“Danno?”

Danny gives him a weak smile, face flushed.

“Time out? Things are getting kind of…intense.”

“Sure, baby,” Steve says agreeably.

He tilts his head down to check, and sure enough Little Danno is a bit perkier and rosier then usual. Steve drops a gentle kiss on the velvet head, raises his head to smirk proudly at his partner, then responds to the insistent tug on his hair to move up and cover Danny and kiss him thoroughly. They have all the time in the world. They can take the time to do things right, and one day very soon it won’t be painful sensory overload that has Danny pulling Steve’s hair out.

He thinks about her every day.

When memories are all you have of someone you love, then those memories become more precious than gold. Steve has placed framed photos of her along with his family pictures in the living room, and Danny has photos of her as well in his room. He has a photo for the car, and one he carries in his wallet.

Rachel, out of kindness (or spite, sometimes with her it’s difficult to tell the difference), sent over a box of Grace’s things for him to have as keepsakes. He hasn’t opened it yet. He can’t, so Steve took it from him and gently placed it in on the top shelf of the closet. One day, if his memories begin to fade, he’ll open it.

His most precious memento is carefully tucked in the drawer of his bedside table—a simple white card with the words “I love you Danno” in colorful crayon.

Mary stumbles into the kitchen and heads for the coffee maker. She went to a party last night and came home late, more than a bit trashed. The party was a waste, the guy she has had her sights set on for the last week turned out to have a steady girlfriend, a really gorgeous girlfriend. So, instead of getting laid, she got a little drunk instead and sneaked home around two in the morning. No cause to have Steve throw a fit, she is an adult. She glances at the kitchen clock. It’s past noon now.

A movement out the window catches her eye. It’s Steve’s partner, Danny. He’s standing by the big woven hammock in the yard. Curious, she moves closer to spy on the blond. Danny intrigues her. She was surprised on this visit from L.A. to find Danny moved into the house with Steve. She knows of his daughter’s death and his stay in the hospital, and the fact that he isn’t talking much anymore. Steve mentioned all this briefly in their monthly phone calls. Steve has also been really close-mouthed about the reason Danny now has his own room upstairs, instead of an apartment of his own.

Danny pulls his tee shirt off over his head in one smooth movement revealing a wealth of golden tanned skin, and she nearly spits her coffee out. The guy may be shorter than she is, but he is built. He’s compact and almost perfectly proportioned, solidly muscled like a football player, all broad shoulders lean waist, gorgeous ass and well-muscled thighs.

Mary smirks a little into her cup. Maybe she will get laid after all. If she can’t have Ryan, Danny will do to scratch the itch.

Quickly, she returns to her room to change and freshen up. She washes her face and arranges her hair in an artfully tousled chignon. Then she changes into her lucky bikini—the cherry red one that never fails to get her laid--- and spritzes on a tiny touch of perfume and dabs on the barest hint of eye shadow and lip gloss. She’s going for the natural look today, and grabs a bottle of sun block. The old ‘can you rub this on my back’ trick should work.

She grabs a towel and slips out on the lanai only to halt abruptly, her jaw dropping. Danny isn’t alone in the hammock. When did Steve get home? Her big brother has joined Danny and is kneeling astride the smaller man’s thighs in the swaying hammock, boots and shirt tossed carelessly to one side, his big hands cupping the blond's face as they kiss.

There is something so passionate and so tender in that kiss, something protective in the way Steve holds himself above Danny and gently cradles his face—his broad, tattooed shoulders set to shut out the rest of the world—something beautiful and intangible—something Mary hasn’t seen since she was a child. Tears fill her eyes, as she recognizes it, she is seeing love.

She watches for a moment as her brother breaks the kiss and grins dopily down at his partner, he is such an ass, and Danny beams right back at him eyes locked with his, love returned fully, and she has never felt more like an intruder in her life. Steve rumbles something to Danny, so low she can’t make out the words, and presses his forehead to his partner’s. Danny’s eyes close in bliss, an almost shy smile visible on his face.

Carefully, she backs away into the house and retreats to her room to put together a bag for the beach. She will call Kono and gather more intel before she corners her brother and interrogates him on his love life, the surprising fact that he is apparently bisexual, and more importantly why the hell he has not felt the importance of sharing this vital information with his sister. If there is going to be a wedding or civil ceremony in the future, then Mary is damn well going to be Best Woman.

In retrospect it’s probably a good thing she didn’t try and seduce her brother’s lover, because Steve would totally have kicked her ass.

Danny sits nervously on the bed in his room, small duffle bag on his lap, his collection of tacky souvenirs tucked in a shopping bag at his feet. Most of his stuff is already in his room at Steve’s. Part of him is terrified. He is checking out today, going home with his partner. His bad knee jitters nervously and he clamps a hand down on it to keep it still. What the hell is McGarrett thinking? He isn’t ready. He breathes deeply, fighting down his panic attack. Hell, Danny still can’t talk half the time, and he’s about as sociable as a grizzly bear with a toothache. Why the hell would Steve want to deal with that shit on a daily basis?

“Hey, brah, your ride's here.” Mao’s placid face beams at him from the doorway.

Danny hops off the bed, clutching his stuff and follows Mao (for the last time) like a disheveled blond duckling, down the cool, breezy hallway out onto the lanai. Steve is waiting, leaning against a post, chatting with Pete and Leilani. Leilani is due to leave in two weeks as well. Steve looks up when Danny steps out of the building and fucking aims the goofiest, megawatt smile Danny has ever seen at him. This must be Steve’s pleased “I’m Kidnapping Danno For Good” face, and suddenly he can breathe a little easier.

Steve strides forward into his space, wraps an arm tight around his shoulders, takes his bag of souvenirs, and smiles down into his eyes. His happiness is contagious and Danny can only smile helplessly back.

“You ready to go home, partner?”

Danny swallows hard, clears his throat and nods.

“Yeah.” It’s hoarse and rough around the edges, but it’s a word.

Steve shoves his board in the sand and jogs up the beach to Kamekona’s shave ice stand, shaking the water out of his eyes. He grins at the big man and watches as he scoops out Steve’s pineapple and Danny’s cherry ices and waves off payment. It’s a small thing, an ohana thing. Danny will never have to pay for his flavored ice from Kamekona again, because the big man loved and mourned Gracie too.

“Looks like Jersey Boy pulled a barrel.”

Steve squints back over his shoulder. Yep, Danny has caught a sweet wave, is riding it home. He smiles; watching the graceful curve of his lover’s body as he easily balances on his board and rides the wave. He can’t see it from here, but Danny gets a calm, meditative look on his face when he surfs, body swaying gently as he navigates the waves. His Jersey boy is a natural.

Several watching beach honeys murmur in appreciation and preen, hoping to catch his eye, when Danny strides out of the water, board under his arm, one hand swiping his wet hair out of his eyes. Steve nods thanks and takes his cones of ice and heads down to meet his guy and hand him his cone, eyes lingering appreciatively over his torso.

“You’re looking a little nipped there, Danno.”

Danny sniffs at him as he takes the cone, and takes a bite.

“You have an unhealthy obsession with my nipples, McGarrett.”

He flops down on their blanket and roots in the bag for the sun block. Steve gives him an unrepentant grin and drops down beside him. He does kind of have an obsession with those tiny rosebud pink nubs, nestled in golden hair.

“You want me to rub that in for you?”

Danny gives him an incredulous look.

“Seriously, does that line ever work? You cannot come up with something more original?”

He sputters and flails a bit for emphasis, then gives up. Steve is a hopeless dork. How he ever managed to become a Super Ninja SEAL is beyond Danny. He flops back on the blanket and sighs the deep, resigned sigh of the greatly put upon, and glares up at the clear blue sky. Steve is still eyeing his chest, kind of like a shark would a fat seal. He gets focused like that. Danny gives up and tosses him the tube.

“Yeah, okay, have at it, whatever. Just don’t molest me in public, McGarrett!”

Steve gives him a smug, shit-eating grin and scoots gleefully closer, happily squirting a large blob of lotion into his hand. He takes his time and gently smooths the cream into Danny’s skin, careful of the board rash across his chest.

Danny watches from beneath his lashes, wondering at the absorbed look on his lover’s face as he tends Danny’s abused skin. Steve finishes with Danny’s torso and shoulders, then gently thumbs a dab of lotion down Danny’s nose, eyes suddenly hot and intent and locked on Danny’s.

Danny has had a lot of practice lately in reading that look. It’s Steve’s “I’m Gonna Molest You Anyway” look. Danny swallows hard, and suddenly feels a bit overheated.

“You want to get out of here?” he murmurs.

Steve smirks in triumph, rises effortlessly to his feet, and gives Danny a hand up. North Shore beats Jersey Shore any day.

All he can think is that his knee hurts. He licks dry lips and tugs listlessly at the padded restraints tethering him to the hospital bed. The orderly pulled the ones on his legs too tight, and now his knee aches. His eyes roam dully around the white walls, returning to the silent brown monkey sitting on his bedside table. He stares at it for a minute, struggles to remember why he is here, why he is so angry. He licks his lips again, tasting a bitter chemical aftertaste. Drugs, they gave him some heavy-duty shit. He’s thirsty but he can’t reach the water pitcher. The narcotic tide pulls him under and he sinks gratefully. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to wake up again. There’s nothing here for him but pain.

Danny is yelling at Steve again. His blond hair is tousled up in an irate rooster’s comb and he’s bouncing in place and in fact he kind of reminds Kono of a little bantam fighting rooster getting up into Foghorn Leghorn’s face. (Kono really has to stop watching cartoons with her nieces and nephews.) He’s is in full rant now, both hands knifing through the air, with the occasional pause to shake the finger of Thou Shalt Not under Steve’s bemused nose.

They’re both smeared with oil and soot from the explosion and McGarrett has a cut on his temple that is dripping blood down on his collar. Of course Steve had charged to the rescue of the kidnapped woman (again) and fuck due process and proper police procedure. The fact that Danny had been right on his heels is beside the point. Steve charges in, Danny follows, covers his back and lectures him afterwards. It’s a thing with them.

Kono actually finds it kind of soothing. It reminds her a lot of her parents’ amiable marital bickering. They fight, they fuss and they love each other fiercely. She cocks her head at the sudden epiphany. She is seeing the same thing here, and she nearly kicks herself for being so blind before. She turns to Chin and sees his knowing smile. Of course, he’s just been waiting for her to catch on. Chin is annoying like that. She makes a face at him.

They lean back against the wall, arms folded, and wait patiently for Danny to wind down. Kono grins at the besotted look on Steve’s face as he happily basks in his partner’s wrath. Steve has missed Danny fiercely, and his pure, unadulterated joy at having Danny back on the team has been impossible to overlook. Kono hides another grin as Danny finally starts to slow down, there is more spacing between the cuss words now (Kono tends to hear Danny’s rants as “blah, blah, idiot, blah, Steve, blah, lunkhead”—again, she blames the Cartoon Channel).

Finally Danny notices that Steve is bleeding, grabs his elbow and immediately drags him off to the paramedics, with one last ‘lunkhead’ thrown in for good measure. Steve follows without a fuss, besotted smile still firmly in place.

Kono and Chin trail behind, and Kono suddenly realizes that every time Danny calls Steve a lunkhead , he is actually saying; ‘I love you.’ And every time Steve calls him “Danno’ he is returning the endearment. She smiles happily and bounces a little. It’s always good when Mom and Dad get along.

Danny still has his nonverbal days. The doctors and therapists have fancy terms for it, but basically it boils down to the fact that he damned well doesn’t feel like talking. He knows it’s a childish thing, but he tends to hide behind Steve on those days, and Steve steps in without complaint and talks for both of them. Today they’re on one of Steve’s ‘field trips’ hiking along Ka’ena Point. It’s a hot, bright day and Danny has a miserable headache and is cranky as well. He really wishes the doctor would stop fucking with his meds.

He trails along sullenly behind Steve, squinting against the sun. One of these days maybe he will actually remember to bring his sunglasses. The trio of college girls that have latched onto Steve during this hike only exacerbates Danny’s crankiness. Once they find out he is a native, there is no getting rid of them, especially the bold, brassy blonde who is quite open with her interest. Once they realize that Danny has nothing to contribute to the conversation, they ignore him. Steve is gracious, sharing with them his knowledge of Hawaiian history, the best hikes, and the best places to swim or surf.

Danny slows down and lets them outpace him around a bend in the trail. Blondie, he notes sourly, has latched onto Steve’s arm and is all wide eyes and what she probably thinks are intelligent questions. He huffs out an annoyed breath and finds a convenient rock to sit down on. He’s tired and he needs to catch his breath and retie his damned hiking boot before he gets a blister to top the day off.

He pulls his boot and sock off and rubs his reddened instep absently as he stares out over the water. Steve said they might see whales or even sea turtles, but all Danny sees are waves and rocks. Goddamned island. He wrinkles his nose, his skin feels hot and tight. Great, now he is getting sunburned too. With a sigh, he crosses his arms over his knees and puts his head down. He just wants to go back to the damned hospital and nap in his nice, cool, shady room.

“Hey, buddy.”

Steve has turned back and Danny blinks up at him as he momentarily blocks the sun before squatting down in front of Danny. He watches silently as Steve digs into his daypack and produces a bottle of water, a tube of sun block, ointment and band-aids like magic. He feels a reluctant smile tug at his mouth. Super SEAL to the rescue, as usual. He wonders if Steve has an entire medical kit in his pack. Probably a survival kit, a knife and a grenade or two as well, knowing Steve.

Steve solemnly examines Danny’s foot with him and they decide a band-aid will do. Danny smirks as the Batman band-aid is pressed into place. Steve is a dork. Danny pulls his sock and boot back on. He’s intent on tying his laces, when cool fingers touch his face, and startled he looks up into Steve’s eyes as Steve gently dabs sun block on Danny’s hot skin.

He has that absorbed look he gets when he’s concentrating on a particularly fascinating geeky clue as he smooths the cream over Danny’s cheekbones. Danny fumbles his laces. Steve’s eyes are a clear hazel today with flecks of amber and blue green beneath his ridiculously long lashes.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Blondie is back as well, a wide smile fading on her face as she looks from one to the other. “I was just wondering if there’s a decent restaurant nearby for lunch.”

Steve gives her a brief smile back, still smearing lotion on Danny’s face. He smooths one last dollop down Danny’s nose, hands him the bottle of water, takes his other hand and then tugs him to his feet, automatically tucking Danny close under his arm, before answering.

“There’s a little place back down the highway. Good seafood, called the Blue Tuna. Enjoy.”

Steve turns his attention back to Danny.

“Why don’t we stop at the Farmer’s Market on the way home? You can catch a nap in the hammock and I’ll grill up some surf and turf.”

Danny’s stomach rumbles a loud, enthusiastic agreement and Steve throws back his head and laughs delightedly.

“Alright! Lets go home, Danno.”

They head back down the trail, Steve’s arm still draped over Danny’s shoulders, leaving a rather forlorn blonde behind.

Steve loves Bad Movie Night.

Not just for the movies themselves, but for the fact that he has Danny right where he wants him, safe in his home on the couch right by Steve’s side where he belongs. Best of all, however, is naptime. He will never, ever in a million years admit the elaborate strategy he employs to secure naptime.

First he plans dinner carefully. It’s usually something heavy (unless Danno’s having problems with his meds) designed to make Danny sleepy. Steve has found that a good, nourishing dinner of steak, green beans, and garlic mashed potatoes works wonders for this. Sometimes he tops it off with a nice creamy dessert.

Second he makes sure to choose a real stinker of a movie to add to the stack of science fiction classics he usually gets. Steve has become something of an expert when it comes to selecting boring, crappy movies, if he does say so himself. (Godzilla does not count as a crappy movie. Godzilla is a classic film.) Anything with a giant octopus is a winner. Danny, for some unknown reason, loathes octopi.

Third, he makes sure to provide beer along with the snacks. Danno is a lightweight nowadays because of his medication and it usually only takes one before he is blinking and yawning owlishly. Fourth, he is careful to dim the lights so that the only light is from the big screen TV,

Nine times out of ten, his plan works like a charm and he has a rumpled, warm Danno dozing against his shoulder within the first hour. After he is certain Danny is down for the count, Steve deftly eases him down on the wide, obscenely soft couch (also a part of Steve’s cunning naptime strategy—once you sink into it, its almost impossible to extract yourself) and curls happily around him, with Steve’s mom’s afghan pulled snugly over them. Then, nose buried in blond hair, Steve rests.

It’s the best sleep he gets these days.

Danny gapes at his dresser top in horror.

It’s large and neon pink, for God’s sake, and it's been artfully arranged so that one of its tentacles is lovingly embracing the hula doll, while the others are busily strangling the plush shark (although the stuffed shark is obviously putting up a fight, with one tentacle clamped firmly in its row of large felt teeth), the googly-eyed coconut, and the ferociously scowling Tiki warrior carving. Obviously his room was invaded during the night by a certain Ninja SEAL with a juvenile sense of humor who has generously gifted Danny with a pink rubber octopus for his tacky souvenir collection.

Danny gapes for a few minutes more at the kitschy tableau, then finds himself snickering, then giggling helplessly before clutching his stomach and falling backwards on his bed to bark a laugh out for the first time in ages. So, he’s not at all surprised to look over and see Steve leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, beaming at him with a proud grin on his face.

Danny bursts through the hospital waiting room doors, eyes wide, heart pounding in sheer terror. Chin meets him head on and grabs his shoulders, makes Danny look him in the eyes. Kono embraces him from the other side. They sandwich him in and hold him tight.

“It’s okay, Danny. He’s going to be fine. The bullet was a through and through, he’ll be on bed rest for a few days and then on crutches for a couple of weeks. He’s in recovery and should wake up from surgery in a half hour or so.”

Danny is still agitated, his hands are shaking badly as he runs them over his face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, calming himself so that he can try and find his words. Finally he licks his lips and speaks; it’s hoarse and shaky but audible as he looks imploringly at Chin.

“T-they won’t let me in to s-see him, C-Chin.”

Kono watches as Chin’s calm face smooths into a stony mask. Few people have seen Chin Ho Kelly enraged and walked away undamaged. She kind of pities the admitting nurse.

Chin squeezes Danny’s shoulders firmly.

“Wait here, I’ll take care of it.” He stalks out of the room and down to the nurse’s station, back ramrod straight.

They watch as he bends over the desk and says something brusquely to the woman behind the computer, whose posture stiffens as she blinks, then rechecks McGarrett’s information on the screen. He’s back in only a few moments, leaving a scarlet-faced woman behind, who is trying very hard to look busy.

“It’s okay, brah, you can see him now.”

That’s how Danny discovers that he is, in fact, listed as Steve’s domestic partner. Somehow he ended up married for the past couple of years and no one bothered to tell him. When he gets McGarrett home, he is going to kill him. It’s his marital privilege after all.

Thomas and Samo are sitting on a bench outside the courtroom waiting to be brought before Judge Masuko on yet another marijuana possession charge. Samo shifts his huge 6’8”, 300lb, tattooed frame irritably and his leg chains clink musically as he tries to get comfortable on the hard bench. He huffs out a resigned sigh. Beside him, Thomas is chattering like a monkey on crack again.

“I’m telling you brah, they’re both mahu.”

“No way, man. McGarrett is a fucking SEAL.”

“Way! Totally way! He lives with that little blond haole…they’re like married or something.”

Samo glares down his nose at his cousin in disbelief. No way in hell is the short, tough, blond cop who kicked Samo’s ass and handed it to him, before handcuffing and arresting him, queer. Thomas is blowing smoke out of his ass as usual. Thomas needs to lay off the damned pakalolo. It’s started to fry his brain cells. He makes a mental note to tell Toast to cut Thomas off until he gets his shit together and starts talking sense again.

“Isn’t that Danny?” Stan asks her, squinting curiously across the elegant restaurant.

Rachel chokes and nearly spits out her mineral water. Flushed, she waves off their waiter’s concern and dabs delicately at her lips with her napkin.

“I’m almost certain it isn’t” she murmurs back.

The last time Rachel saw her ex-husband was almost three years ago. As far as she knows, he is still in hospital.

She mentally flinches, remembering how horrid he looked, how wretchedly hopeless, his eyes dull, with tangled hair. She visited at McGarrett’s personal request, the man had apparently hoped the sight of her would snap Daniel out of his all consuming grief over Grace’s death.

It didn’t, and Rachel would never forget the silent accusation that Daniel had leveled at her with a single searing look. He blamed her for Grace’s death; after all, she had insisted that her driver pick Grace up for school from Daniel’s apartment that morning.

“Ah, well, it looks like him.” Stan turns his attention back to his Smartphone and the text he is sending to a client, as they wait for the main course to arrive.

She sighs. Now she has to look. She turns in her seat and nearly falls off her chair. Since when does Danny Williams frequent the Azure at the Royal Hawaiian? They are both well beyond his means. Her curiosity grows when she sees he is dining with Steve McGarrett.

They are seated in a cozy nook near the terrace, sharing a bottle of red and the Kona shellfish bowl. Both men are smartly dressed, Steve in a sharp black suit and Danny in dove gray. His hair, she notes is longer and even blonder now, he has it pulled neatly back in a queue at the nape of his neck. He looks tan and fit.

Bemused she watches the couple, than realizes with a start that they are actually a couple. The body language is unmistakable. Their feet are tangled together under the table as they lean in close, eyes only for each other. The look on Daniel’s face is familiar. Rachel remembers well when it used to be directed only at her. She feels more than a bit gob smacked. She never would have suspected Daniel of homosexual leanings. Stunned, she sits back in her chair, barely acknowledging Stan when he excuses himself to go to speak with a friend across the room.

When her waiter leans in to refill her glass, she finds herself, asking a question.

“Excuse me, but isn’t that Lt. Commander McGarrett?”

“Yes, Madame. I believe he and his husband are celebrating their second anniversary.” The man bows slightly and withdraws.

Rachel sits and watches them, feeling more than a bit stunned. They are finished now and leaving, Steve’s ringed hand resting lightly on Daniel’s lower back as they walk out. Danny is talking again, she note numbly, talking and gesturing, as is his habit, his bright gaze fixed on his partner’s face, while Steve beams down at him, looking rather foolishly besotted.

She finds herself blinking back unexpected tears. What exactly she is weeping for, she is unsure. The young family they used be? The remembered loss of her beloved daughter? Finally realizing that Daniel was forever out of her life? Danny, the first person she fell in love with.

She remembers how blindly and foolishly she had pursued him until she caught him and realized she had more than she could control. Danny Williams is a dynamic force of nature, and as much as he loved her and adored their daughter, in the end he wouldn’t bend to her will. With a small sniff, she composes herself and sits up straight, one hand going automatically to her swollen belly. Foolish pregnancy hormones.

This time everything will be perfect.

Steve is asleep, drooling on Danny’s bare shoulder. It’s not an attractive sight and Danny kind of wishes he had a camera close at hand. They crashed in the hammock after dinner, stuffed with the homemade lasagna that Danny made from his grandma’s recipe, to watch the sun set. Steve dozed off almost immediately after a busy day of chasing bad guys.

Chin cheerfully assured Danny that Steve actually caught a couple without setting anything on fire, or crashing any vehicles. (Kono was the one responsible for tossing one of the miscreants into the ocean. Steve is a bad influence without Danny around to moderate things.)

Since Steve is almost always awake when Danny is, this is a rare opportunity to study his sleeping partner. Cautiously, Danny raises a hand to finger soft, dark hair. He grins because it’s turning up in little, damp cowlicks in the back and Danny suspects it would be almost curly if allowed to grow longer than regulation. Steve snorts and snuffles before burying his nose in Danny’s neck and snoring a little. Danny chuckles silently.

Curiously he traces the tattoo on Steve’s left bicep with a fingertip, wondering how a bad ass Navy SEAL ended up with a flower, a lotus, on his arm. He knows Steve got them while on liberty in Australia, but nothing more than that. Their relationship is still so new and Danny is hesitantly feeling his way. The guy on guy thing doesn’t freak him out so much as the fact that he is going to be living with, sleeping with, his partner and boss. Steve is everything to him now, and if he messes this up, he will have nothing. The immensity of what Danny feels for this complex man scares the crap out of him.

He is so absorbed in tracing the outline of Steve’s ink that he doesn’t realize he is being watched in return until he looks down and meets smiling eyes. He freezes, face hot at being caught out.

Steve just smiles at him, eyes crinkling and murmurs “Don’t stop.”

Eyes still locked with Danny’s he wraps a hand around Danny’s wrist, and brings it to his mouth, turning it and gently kissing along the long scar on his inner arm. Danny’s eyes flicker away and to the side, ashamed, and Steve just kisses him and tells him not to worry as he tilts Danny’s chin back so he can reach his lips. Danny closes his eyes and opens his mouth hesitantly to the kiss. Every nerve he has feels like it’s finally waking up after a long sleep. They make out in the hammock most of the evening, slowly exploring and learning each other’s likes and dislikes, and eventually fall asleep curled together.

What it boils down to is simply trust. Danny trusts Steve with his life and his heart, and Steve returns that love and trust full fold. They both have scars and issues, but that doesn’t matter because they also have each other. Together they can face down anything.

It’s late in the 5-0 offices. The janitors have already come and gone, Mrs. Ajuki chiding Steve for working so late and leaving him a tin of homemade mochi. Steve slips the flash drive in the table port and watches the video again. It’s copied from the original from an undercover op they did last spring. Danny played the part of a mechanic from Jersey, hired to off the wealthy older wife of an up and coming politician who had not only ambition, but a greedy seventeen year-old mistress to support as well.

Steve leans back in his chair and watches with the sound off. He watches Danny as he owns the role, prowling around the man, projecting a feral energy and a deadly menace that literally had the congressman shaking like a leaf as they ‘negotiated’ fees. After the man left, the tension was broken when Chin had solemnly asked Danny over the mic if he was ready for his audition for the next Godfather movie. Danny laughed loudly and cheerfully flipped them all off.

Steve freezes the image of Danny. He has his head tilted back and his hands tucked back in his pockets as he smiles into the camera. His eyes are bright blue and twinkling with merriment. Steve misses him so much he aches. This must be what amputation feels like.

He sits back in his chair and rubs his tired eyes. He should go home, but he can’t stand the emptiness, so he usually crashes on his office couch. Danny won’t speak to him when he visits. Refuses to even look at him. He shuffles around after Mao like a lost child, blank and obedient, holding Grace’s toy monkey like a lifeline.

Steve wants to grab him, shake him, hold him close and make him see how very much he means to Steve. Sometimes he aches to just touch Danny, to protect him against the world, but he can’t do that. Danny has to choose to make the first steps on his own, has to want to stay in this world. All Steve can do is wait. He folds his arms on the table and lays his head down. He’s so tired.

The one thing Steve can’t protect Danny from is himself.

Kono watches covertly through the glass wall of her office. Steve has been acting odd all morning. If she didn’t know better she would swear her boss was stoned. Usually he is a whirlwind at work, moving around at warp speed, impatient for a new case. He is currently sitting, no, lounging, at his desk staring off into space with a really asinine smile on his face. She almost expects him to start spinning his chair in circles at any moment.

Frowning, she reviews the facts. Nothing big went down yesterday. The governor is in a good mood. Viktor Hesse is still in prison. Danny stopped by last night to pick Steve up as they were going out to celebrate Danny’s one-year anniversary of his release from the hospital, and his six-month anniversary of being med free…oh. Oh. That was it.

To test her theory she opens the drawer on her desk and pulls out the tin of board wax she picked up for Steve at the surf shop and strolls into his office.

“Hey, boss! Here’s the new wax you wanted for Danny’s board!” she chirps innocently and tosses it so that it falls short, just out of reach.

Sure enough, he stretches, lunges out of his chair and snags it out of the air with a pained grimace and a grunt of discomfort; and is that a cushion in his chair?

He straightens abruptly, face flushed, and with a scowl growls,

“Thanks Kono.”

“No problem, boss!” she warbles back, turning quickly to leave, as well as to hide the smirk on her face.

She can feel his suspicious glare burning into the back of her head. It’s one thing to know that her boss got spectacularly boned last night, quite another for him to realize she knows. She is, however, dying to share the news with Chin. She ambles for the conference room and finds her cousin standing hands on his hips glaring down at the glass-topped computer table. He holds out a hand, palm out like a traffic cop, and stops her in her tracks.

“Don’t bother, Kono, I already know.”

“How?”

How the hell does he do that? Maybe Chin really is a ninja.

He gives her a longsuffering look and waves his hand to indicate the computer table. Chin tends to get huffy when anyone screws with the expensive tech he considers his domain. Curious, she walks over and peers at the surface, only to clap a hand over her mouth to muffle a snort of laughter.

“Is that what…?”

“Yes, Kono. That is an ass print on the conference table!”

Grumbling he goes in search of LCD screen wipes and she rockets towards the Ladies room so she can safely release the peals of laughter she is choking back. Once inside, she leans against the wall and laughs until she cries. She is going to have to find an excuse to take the rest of the day off, because there is no way in hell she can present a straight face to her boss for six more hours.

It’s pitch black and he’s tied down. He’s cold and alone and his knee aches fiercely. He struggles against the straps and then there is fire and he can hear Gracie screaming for him and he can’t get to her, he can’t fucking move nonononono..

“Grace! Grace!” sobbing like a baby, struggling against the sheet wrapped around his legs, crying and fighting against the nightmare when strong arms seize him and Steve is there, Steve is there in the bed with him, warm and alive and holding him close.

“Danny, Danny, it’s alright, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Danny takes a ragged breath and buries his face in Steve’s warm bare shoulder for a few minutes, still shaking like a leaf, then he realizes he’s smearing snot and tears all over Steve and tries to pull away. He’s a grown man for Christ’s sake, not a child.

“S…s…sorry” he stutters out, ashamed of himself.

Steve just hugs him tighter and drops a kiss on his temple.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I have nightmares too.”

“Yeah?”

He sniffles and wipes at his face with a corner of the sheet. The damned thing is tangled tight around his legs, and his bad knee is aching like a son of a bitch. He kicks ineffectually at it, then yelps in pain when his calf muscle decides to cramp into a single tight, massive knot of agony.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

“Cramp?”

“Y…yeah!”

Before he can do anything, Steve has slid to the end of the bed and efficiently unwound the sheet, flipped Danny over and is kneading the cramped muscle with strong, warm hands. Face down in the pillows, Danny snorts in surprise, and gives a watery chuckle. Super SEAL to the rescue. One of these days he is going to buy Steve a cape.

“Is your knee bothering you?”

“Yeah, h..how did you know?”

Surprised, Danny glances over his shoulder, then grunts when Steve hits a particularly sore spot. Steve should maybe get paid for this and become a high-class masseuse because those big calloused hands are working wonders. It’s then that he realizes they’re both in the same bed, practically naked and he feels a hot flush flow up his face.

Sure, he’s lived here in Steve’s house for almost two months now, they’ve exchanged a few almost chaste kisses, but this is the first time they have been in a bed together. Besides, Danny thinks sourly, its not as though he could get it up even if he wanted to. He sat down once and tried to read the little folded paper drug warnings that come with his prescriptions and nearly had a heart attack at the list of side effects alone.

He’s really glad he’s getting weaned off that shit, although Steve has immediately started buying huge bottles of vitamins and herbal supplements to take their place. He’s also taken to cooking something other than frozen dinners and Danny’s bathroom medicine cabinet is starting to look like a health food store.

“You bumped it pretty bad with your board yesterday. You’ve got a bruise.”

Steve cups the aching knee with both hands and massages it gently with his thumbs.

Danny sighs in relief as the cramp eases and the knee ache subsides to a minor throbbing. He chuckles at the memory of his rather hilarious attempt at surfing yesterday. It’s embarrassing to wipe out on bunny waves that he sees five year olds ride. He shifts when Steve taps his leg and rolls obediently over onto his back and grins up at Steve.

“I r…rode that last wave though” he says proudly.

Steve beams pride right back at him.

“We’ll have you on the Pipeline in no time.”

They grin at each other foolishly for a minute, Steve still gently rubbing Danny’s knee. He’s dressed in thin cotton sleep pants slung low on his hips and he’s all wide tattooed and tanned shoulders. His hair is sticking up in little tuffs that Danny secretly thinks are cute. He licks his lips nervously, drops his eyes to Steve’s hands and finally just asks for what he needs, trying to keep his voice steady as he asks shyly,

“You maybe want to sleep here tonight?”

He risks a quick glance at Steve’s face, then relaxes a little, because Steve is fucking beaming at him as though Danny just gave him a pony for Christmas. Steve stands, moves up beside the bed and slides easily in with him and Danny finds himself automatically shifting to pillow his head on Steve’s broad shoulder as they tangle themselves together. They’re used to this, he realizes, they nap together on the couch all the time.

Steve reaches over and turns the bedside lamp off, then wraps that arm around Danny’s shoulders, giving a happy little sigh as he settles. His breath is warm against Danny’s face and he happily nuzzles into Danny’s hair. Danny smiles against warm skin.

“Stephen, are you sniffing my hair?”

Steve pauses in mid-inhale. His nose is currently behind Danny’s ear and he smiles as Danny shivers in response. Steve is probably making a mental note of the hot spot for future reference.

“Maybe?”

“Oh, okay.”

Steve grins and pulls the sheet up to cocoon them against the cool breeze off the ocean as they settle in for the night. He beams foolishly up at the ceiling in the dark. As far as he is concerned, neither of them is ever going to sleep alone again. Danny sighs against his neck, already sliding back into to sleep, arm thrown over Steve’s waist. Steve drops one last kiss on that unruly hair and follows him. No more bad dreams for either of them tonight.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and glares across at Danny’s new physician. Dr. Avery folds his hands on his desk and waits calmly.

“So, what you’re basically saying is that Danny’s medications have been making him worse, not better?”

“Yes, Mr. McGarrett, I believe so. I’ve studied Danny’s medical history closely and there are numerous notes regarding his sensitivity to various narcotics. The Xanax as well as the Seconal are the current culprits.”

Avery regards the distraught man compassionately, and slides Danny’s medical file across the desk to his partner (who has power of attorney), flipping it open and using his pen to indicate the scribbled notes on several records.

“These are the records I requested from Jersey City. As you can see, your partner has had bad reactions to similar medications; for example when he was shot in the line of duty in 2003 and suffered from chronic insomnia afterwards.”

Steve stares dully down at the reports. He should have checked Danny’s medical records more carefully to start with.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t think to request his old medical history from the mainland.”

Avery leans forward and says gently, “You have done quite well with the information you had. Don’t blame yourself, if not for your vigilance, Danny could have indeed suffered a great deal more from the side effects from this particular drug combination. “

Dr. Whittaker has a great deal to account for, starting with the prescribed combinations in Danny’s drug schedule, mixes that could very well have been lethal to begin with. Avery will be sure to bring this up at the next hospital board meeting. Dr. Whittaker’s carelessness cannot be allowed to continue. The wellbeing of too many patients is at stake.

He feels it better not to mention the fact that Danny could easily have died from the substantial doses of Seconal alone, and that withdrawal from the drug is going to be risky in itself. Danny’s young husband has enough on his plate as it is. He must be allowed to concentrate on his partner’s current wellbeing.

Avery has seldom seen a man more devoted to his partner.

McGarrett visits his husband every chance he gets, and Avery feels it is a significant breakthrough that Danny not only reached out to Steve, in his attempt to help his fellow patient, but spoke to him as well. He also feels that due to Steve’s intense devotion, Danny Williams has a very good chance of getting his life back. Avery has seen too many mentally ill patients whose families and significant others have abandoned them to institutional care. He tells Steve that and smiles at the younger man’s hot blush.

“We’ll start weaning Danny off these narcotics immediately. It will take time and care, and it will be a long road to recovery, but I have every confidence that your young man has reached an important turning point in his recovery and we will do everything in our power to aid him. “

Avery pulls out several pamphlets and gives them to Steve, who scans the titles and raises an interrogative brow. Avery hides a smile behind his moustache. Commander McGarrett really misses very little when it comes to Danny’s wellbeing.

“I would like you to read those so we can discuss them later. I think Danny would benefit greatly from a new regime of vitamins, exercise and diet, and I think you can be a large part of that. If everything goes well, we should be able to allow Danny home visits very soon.”

Avery is rewarded with a brilliant smile, the first he has seen on the man’s concerned face. He stands and extends his hand to shake. A former Navy man himself, he can’t help but feel that giving Steve a real plan of action will benefit everyone.

Steve and Chin lean tensely forward on the bench, poised to spring into action. The umpire has just made another really, really incredibly biased call and clearly has no clue as to exactly how close he is to bloody dismemberment. Steve exchanges a grim look with Chin.

“Which one do you want?” Chin asks.

Steve snorts. He is no fool. Kono bites as well as kicks.

“You take Kono.”

“Is that an order Commander?” Chin sounds amused.

Steve looks down his nose at him.

“If it has to be.” Steve returns his attention to the field. “Shit! There goes Danny!”

He springs to his feet and leaps to head off his partner who is stalking from the sidelines in a direct beeline towards the unsuspecting umpire. Steve can practically see the steam rising from the blonde head.

Behind him Chin veers off to intercept Kono, who has just stepped down off the bleachers and not so nonchalantly picked up a ball bat. Steve is glad Chin has to deal with her, because he has his hands full as it is.

He manages to pounce just as Danny lunges for the man, wraps both arms around the smaller man’s waist and struggles to haul him off the field. Danny Williams may be short, but he is no lightweight. Steve thinks maybe its time he started popping some of Danno’s vitamins.

“What! What! You stupid, stupid son of a … You call that a foul? Are you freakin’ blind? Steve, put me the hell down. That ball was IN! In, I say, goddammit! Steve, let go! I need to kill this idiot!”

Danny, Steve notes with approval, is in fine voice today. He grins down at his partner’s flushed, irate face.

“Come on Jersey, time for a shave ice break.”

He keeps a firm grip on Danny’s shoulders and steers him, still cursing and flailing off the field to the concession stand where they meet up with Chin towing a sulky Kono behind him. Chin has taken away her bat. Steve finds himself grinning foolishly at nothing. He keeps grinning even when Danno turns to shake a finger under his nose and lecture him for interfering with Danny’s plans for incompetent umpire reeducation.

Steve really loves ball games.

Steve limps wearily over to the back of his truck.

He parked near an isolated strip of beach. The one he goes to when he wants a more intense workout. The ocean currents are rougher here, and the trail where he runs more punishing. Work has been a bitch this week. Friendly fire from HPD nearly killed him and his team yesterday, during a hostage situation. Chin has a bullet graze on his bicep as a souvenir and Kono is grim-faced and hollow-eyed as a result.

The team is on a three-day stand down and the office is too damned quiet without Danny there.

Danny still refuses to even look at him when he goes to the hospital to visit.

He pulls open the tailgate and grabs his towel, listlessly drying off. He’s so damned sick of it all. Maybe it’s time he gave serious thought to returning to full time duty with the SEALs. He throws the damp towel in the back and pulls his duffle out and unzips it to pull out his dry clothes. He drops his board shorts and pulls on a pair of cargo pants, tosses the wet shorts on top of the towel, then rummages in the bag for a tee shirt.

When he tugs it out, a small white plastic case falls out of its folds onto the sand. Puzzled, he leans over and picks it up, turning it over in his hands. Scrawled in black sharpie on the lid in Danny’s neat handwriting are the words “Super SEAL Emergency Kit”. Opening it, he finds a smiley face drawn inside the lid, a tiny bottle of rum, a fishhook, a Hello Kitty band-aid, a zip tie, a temporary tattoo of a mermaid, and an extremely melted Peppermint Patty.

He stands and stares at the case for a long time. The day before Gracie died and Danny’s world went to hell, he had given Steve a stern lecture on taking care of himself because he was “a reckless idiot who needs a keeper”.

Danny ended his lecture with a mild aside: “By the way, I got you a present.”

Then he had smirked at Steve and told him he would have to find it. That way Steve could practice his detective skills. Steve stands for a long time holding the little case in his hands, shirt forgotten.

He knows now he won’t be leaving Danny behind.