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Together

Summary:

One of Steve's worst memories revolves around watching Danny wheeze as he collapsed from the Sarin. He never thought he'd end up reliving that memory...

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

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The gunshots stop, a final thump sounding of a body hitting the ground, and then it falls silent. I wait for a moment for any noise that may suggest anyone is still alive, and then I yell out for Danny as I holster my gun. And that's when I hear it, faint at first, then louder as Danny stumbles towards me, wheezing, and clutching at his chest just like he did when he was poisoned by the Sarin...

And just like that, I'm back in the past, lost in a memory that never fails to make me feel ill.

He’s wheezing, he's clearly having difficulty breathing, and I gasp out, “Danny?” as I whirl around to look at my partner more clearly.  He's still wheezing, his hand already at his chest as he reaches back with his other hand, touching the wall carefully so he can ease himself to the ground in a smooth fall. He's weak, clearly weak enough that he can't even remain standing and he can't breathe and it's Danny... that's all I need to process.

“Danny?” Fear races through me as I sprint in his direction, needing to be at his side helping him in whatever way I can. “Danny, Danny!”

I crouch down in front of him, bracing myself with one hand on the walk behind him. “Danny, you hit?”

Oh, god, please, not Danny…

“No, something's not right, I can't breathe.” He looks up at me for a brief moment and all I can see is pain and panic fighting furiously in his eyes for control. His gaze lowers almost immediately and he tugs at his vest, trying to take it off.

I help him it off, setting it aside, and for what feels like an eternity but probably is only a few seconds, we make eye contact. I'm frozen with the fear of not knowing what's wrong and being scared that he's going to leave me, and Danny's looking at me, silent minus for his wheezing, as if begging me to help him.

I wish I could, I wish I knew what was wrong so I could fix it. Or, simply, that I could just take away his pain, make it my own if that's what it took!

I hear Kono say she's calling for an ambulance and Chin is trying to reassure Danny that he'll be okay, but he has eyes only for me, just like how I can't look away from him.

“I don't know, my chest, I can't breathe,” Danny stutters, and his eyes hold so much fear.

He can't breathe. 

It's not my consciousness that snaps me back to reality, rather, it's the harsh grip that Danny has on my arm that pulls me away from the confines of the memory.

“Danny,” I gasp, helping out of the vest so we can both take a more clear look at his chest. “You hit?”

“Yeah, vest took ‘em,” Danny wheezes, wincing in pain. “I think there were three.”

I raise his now-removed vest and inspect it. “Three,” I confirm, and then bring my other arm up, gently running my hand down his chest to have felt-confirmation that the bullets didn't go through his vest.

Danny hisses in pain, flinching away from my touch.

“Sorry,” I whisper, touching his hand lightly. “You think you can stand?”

“Sure, why not?” He takes the hand that I offer him and allows me to pull him to his feet. He sways, groaning, and reaches for his chest. “My chest is going to be one big bruise tomorrow,” he huffs in annoyance.

There's a sound from behind us and I whirl, gun immediately drawn and aimed at the shadows. “Five-O!” I call out.

“Us,” Kono's response comes. She and Chin jog over and frown at Danny in concern. “Whoa, what happened?”

“I got shot,” Danny informs her. “Vest took ‘em.”

“I think that means he'll be complaining for the next three weeks,” I manage to tease lightly despite the fear still causing my hands to shake ever so slightly.

Danny shrugs. “Only if you annoy me. I already can tell you're feeling guilty about this, so I'll spare you the complaining if you behave.”

“It's my fault,” I interject immediately. “I didn't have your back.”

“We were on opposite sides of the warehouse,” Danny points out, eyebrow raised.

I look away momentarily. “Makes no difference, you're my partner.”

He sighs loudly, causing an aborted gasp of pain to escape him at the harsh movement of his chest, and then he looks at me. “Stubborn Neanderthal,” he says, somewhat fondly.

I just give him a tight smile. I'd rather him here, alive and well enough to call me his light-hearted names than to have him not be here at all. “Come on, let's let the paramedics check you out,” I say, placing one hand on the small of his back to guide him towards the ambulance I know is on standby outside.

“What for?”

I nearly halt in my tracks, staring at Danny. “What for? You took three to the chest, you likely have a cracked rib somewhere, if not more than one! This is not up for negotiation, you're getting checked out.”

“Fine,” Danny grumbles. “But no hospital.”

I stare at him, tired all of a sudden. “Danny…”

“No,” he says firmly. “I don't do hospitals unless I absolutely have to. Besides,” he smirks at me, “Why would I go to the hospital when I'll have my own doctor at home?”

I frown. “You have a new girlfriend and you didn't tell me?” For some reason, that realization hurts more than it has the right to.

Danny stares at me. “You're delusional. Did I say that? No. I said I'll have a doctor come home with me. So, unless you're planning on not hovering over my shoulder like you always do every time I am-”

“Wait, me?

Danny sits down on the edge of the stretcher carefully, grimacing the entire time, but wastes no time in tapping the paramedic on the arm. When she looks at him he says, “Do me a favor and check out my partner for me. I think he's in shock after seeing me get shot.”

I frown at him. “That's not funny.”

He shrugs, but immediately winces. “It's true though, you're acting strange, stranger than usual.”

“Maybe it's because you could have died!” I retort.

He raises an eyebrow. “From three bullets to the vest?”

“No, because you were wheezing just like you were with the Sarin and I-” I cut myself off, looking away, breathing harshly.

“Steve.” Danny's voice is quiet. I don't look at him, trying to control my emotions so I can school my features before looking back at him. It doesn't work. His hand lands on my arm, his fingers curling around my wrist, and I can't help but look down at him. “I'm sorry, that was a bad joke. But I'm okay, really. In a shit-ton of pain, sure, but it's nothing new. Or anything I can't handle.”

I sigh. “It's fine. It's just, seeing you all but collapse in my arms...you scared me, Danno. I don't, I can't-”

The paramedic decides to interrupt by way of probing Danny's ribs with her hand. Her touch can't be that gentle, or maybe it is and Danny's just especially tender from taking three to the same region of the body, but the second she presses on his ribs, I can tell. His expression tightens and then simultaneously contorts into an expression of pain, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to breathe through the pain.

I shift my position so his hand slides into my own. Squeezing tight, I try to ground him in the present and in the knowledge that he is not alone.

“Can you not?” Danny hisses through clenched teeth at the paramedic. “I like my ribs where they are, thank you.”

She clucks unhappily at him. “You have two cracked ribs, at best. You really need to be checked out at the hospital.”

Danny exhales carefully, moving away from her hand, I notice, before she can make a move for him again. “So they can tell me what I already know? That I have a few cracked ribs, great, wrap ‘em, Advil's your best friend, and take it easy for the next two weeks? Yeah, no, I'm good.”

He now turns to look at me. I look back at him, raising an eyebrow. “I'm on her side, I want you to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, only when it's me or someone else who is hurt,” he grumbles, clearly holding back a wince when the paramedic lifts his shirt and begins to wrap his ribs, clearly recognizing that he has no intention of going to the hospital so it is futile to argue.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means you only care about injuries that aren't your own,” he huffs. “You get shot, you're out running a marathon the next day. I get shot in the vest and it's bed rest for two weeks!”

I flush involuntarily. “You're exaggerating.”

He levels me with an unimpressed look. “Steve, you're a combination of my mother, a mother-hen, and an overprotective boyfriend. I'm definitely not exaggerating.”

The paramedic coughs.

We both turn to look at her. Danny frowns. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says, coughing again into her hand as if she expects that will be sufficient in hiding her smile. Neither of us is fooled.

“No, don't do that. What is it?” Danny presses.

She flushes. “Well, it's just…” She sighs. “I'm just really happy for you!”

Danny frowns, making to retort at her, I can tell by the annoyance that flashes in his eyes, but I beat him to it. “Happy? You're happy that he's been shot?”

Her eyes widen. “What? I was talking about your relationship! I've seen the pining for years, all of us have, and I'm just really happy you guys finally talked things out and got together! That's all I was saying.”

“Ah-ha.” I stare at her, almost in a daze. Whatever I was expecting her to say, it wasn't that.

Danny, of course, is the one who regains his composure first. “Right, well, how ‘bout it then, Steve? I think we're done here, take me home.”

His comment is unexpected, and I'm left putting all my effort in to keep my features neutral. But fuck, does it hurt knowing that this, his playing along to appease the medic, is just that, playing. Because he doesn't like me like that, not the way I like him.

“Steve?” Danny prompts, somehow managing to look both concerned for me and hurting for himself as he stands slowly.

I blink out of my thoughts and look at him. “Yeah, sorry, let's go.”

“Detective, you need to take it easy,” the paramedic calls behind us as I bring my arm around Danny's shoulders and take some of his weight, making walking easier for him. “If you don't, you could potentially, worst case scenario, cause internal damage.”

I stiffen at her words, glancing back over my shoulder to respond, “I'll make sure he rests, thank you.”

Danny, for his part, is quiet. Even as we stop in front of the passenger side of the car so I can open the door for him, he is silent.

“Danny?” I say gently, nudging his shoulder with my own. “You with me?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he says absently. It's not until he begins to climb into the car, albeit carefully, that he snaps out of his thoughts with a pained, quickly-silenced hiss. I touch his shoulder comfortingly, perhaps for as much my benefit as his. I know that had I had his back as I should have, he wouldn't have been shot three times and be in so much pain right now.

Danny slumps back in his seat, his eyes squeezed shut as he exhales carefully. I brace myself against the open door, leaning down so I can touch his knee. “You okay?”

He opens his eyes and stares up at me. “Yeah, fine,” he sighs. “Can we not go home right away?”

“What?”

“I want to get the paperwork outta the way,” he explains.

“I can do the paperwork,” I answer.

“Yeah, but it's my responsibility. And other than a little pain when I move too sharply or breathe too deeply, the pain really is manageable.”

There's something about his tone, about the pleading in his eyes that makes me hesitate. I squat down in front of him, bracing myself with my hands on his knees. “What happened in there that you aren't telling me?” I ask quietly.

Danny avoids my eyes. I give him time, letting him process his thoughts before speaking. After a minute, he says, “I wasn't on the opposite side of the warehouse when I was shot. I was actually maybe only a hundred feet or so from you.”

I feel my eyes widen at his admission but I stay quiet, letting him finish.

“You had your back to me, shooting at some guy I couldn't see. But your back was turned and at some point, one of the men who had been shooting at me had suddenly stopped…”

“You figured he doubled back,” I realize.

He nods. “I left my cover to stop him, to make sure you weren't in his way of escaping. When I finally saw him, his gun was already aimed at you. I didn't have a direct shot from where I was, so I stepped out from behind my cover to shoot him. It worked, I got him, but my shot alerted someone else to where I was. I took three to the chest and went down. And that's all I remember for a minute or two.” He pauses and then adds, “I didn’t hit my head. The pain merely made me focus on that instead of anything else.”

“I heard the gunshots from behind me,” I say shakily. “I killed the man I was shooting at and then I went after the guy behind me...the guy who shot you…”

“Probably saved my life,” Danny says. “He probably was trying to find me so he could finish what he started.”

I exhale shakily, feeling my heart hammer in my chest. “Never do that again,” I demand of him softly.

He raises an eyebrow. “Never do what again?”

“Never put yourself in the line of fire like that. At the very least, don't do it unless you know I'm there behind you watching your back.”

Danny blinks at me. “You were.”

“I was what?”

“You had my back,” Danny clarifies. “You got the guy who shot me before he could get me. Besides, I saw you were in danger. Even knowing this outcome ahead of time, I still would have left my cover if it protecting you. Or the others.”

“Not at my expense.” I look at him, feeling a somewhat unexpected, somewhat not, lump form in my throat. “I can't…”

He lifts his head, making eye contact with me for the first time since he shared what really happened in the warehouse. “I know,” he says quietly. “That's why I left my cover, I feel the same way.”

No, you really don't, you don't like me how I like you.

“What?” I blink out of my thoughts, frowning in confusion when I see both the fear and hope shining in Danny's eyes. “What did you say?”

“I didn't…” I trail off. I spoke out loud?

“Oh, sorry.” And just like that, Danny's expression shutters closed, his shoulders hunching slightly as he seems to blend in with the seat he's sitting in. It's like with only those two words from me- I didn't- before I stopped myself from talking, was enough to make Danny feel bad. Maybe I said out loud that Danny doesn't like me how I like him... If I did...does Danny...return my feelings?

“Danny?”

“Let's go already,” he says stubbornly, refusing to look at me now. “The Palace or my place, your call.”

“And if I decide on my place?”

He freezes, turning to look up at me slowly. “Why would…”

“Because my bed is no doubt more comfortable than that lump of a mattress you call a bed,” I respond. “So, my place?”

He looks lost. “Steve, what are you saying?”

“I'm saying, I like you too.”

“I didn't even say that,” Danny argues.

Suddenly inspired, I find myself leaning closer ever so slightly. “Yes, you did. You say it every day, in everything you say and everything you do. Think about it, when you're complaining in the car like an old man, you're just proving that we are an old married couple; we never bicker about anything serious. And today when you took those bullets in the effort of simply trying to keep me safe, that was you saying it to me, saying that you love me. We even say it out loud sometimes, knowing in our heart what it means but allowing the other to remain oblivious to the depth of that confession. So, I'll go first. Danny Williams, I love you.”

Danny looks overwhelmed. In fact, he just stares at me, eyes wide, for a long time. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he clears his throat and says shakily, “I love you too, you poetic schmuck. Now, can we go home now?”

“Way to ruin the moment,” I deadpan. “I give you this fabulous, frankly romantic speech and you respond by insulting me? I'm hurt, Danno, really, I am.”

Danny laughs at my sass, eyes crinkling at the corners, but as quickly as he laughs, he quickly loses to the hot tears that suddenly appear in his eyes as pain clearly flashes through his chest. “Fuck,” he hisses, hunching in on himself. “Don't make me laugh.”

“I'm sorry,” I apologize immediately, feeling horrible as I rub his knee. “You okay, you need anything?”

Danny lifts his head to level me with a very firm, unwavering puppy look of innocent love as he responds, “A nice long cuddle in your bed wouldn't go amiss right now.”

I give him a faint smile. “I think that could be arranged.”

“Good.” Danny's fingers curl around the collar of my shirt and, before I can even have the time to process what is about to happen, he tugs me down so he can press our lips together.

It's only a press of lips, no tongue, biting, or anything more than a simple touching of our lips but, to me, it is everything. There are no fireworks like described in the movies or TV shows, there's just simply the feeling of belonging. Like Danny and I have always been meant to be together. And thinking back to all those moments of friendship we've shared, of quiet but powerful I love yous moments said with a hug, of family, ohana, where it's him, Grace, and I...maybe we’ve actually been together from the beginning.

And now we're just realizing that it's time we put a name to the family and feelings we have had for so long now.

I lean back and look down at Danny, who is just now beginning to open his eyes. He looks up at me and a slow smile grows on his face. “We shoulda done that a long time ago,” he says. “All these years without saying anything...we could have been having gentle kisses like that and passionate kisses where I take your breath away and leave your knees trembling to support yourself because that's how good the kiss was…” He shakes his head. “What a waste of time.”

“I wouldn't say that,” I interject. “It’s not like we spent all those years doing nothing, there was that cuddle on the sofa that one Halloween and me taking care of you when you were sick with the flu…” I stand, smiling down at him as I step back to close the door. “Everything has led to this. Would you really have it any other way?”

“Yes.” Danny's answer is immediate, firm, and, to me, surprising.

I hesitate, holding the door in place instead of closing it. “What would you change?” I ask, well aware that his answer could change quite a lot.

“I'd make sure that Wo Fat never got to you, that you were always safe from him and everyone else that tried or succeeded to hurt you.” Danny looks up at me, eyes pleading with me to understand without him having to say any more than that.

And I do. “But I never was alone, even when I was being tortured,” I admit quietly. “Thinking of you and Grace...especially you, that's what got me through it.”

Danny reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it. His eyes are warm, if not still pained from his ribs. I make a mental note of hot water pads and cuddles on the sofa for when we get to my place. “Come on, SuperSeal. Let's get out of here and leave the kids to clean up.”

I laugh. “Alright. Let me tell them and then we'll go, okay?”

His grin is my only answer. Feeling lighter than I have in a long time, despite the gravity from which this positive situation came about, I head over to Kono and Chin. Their knowing look as I explain the situation to them makes me think that they are aware that Danny and I just confessed our feelings to each other.

“Have fun!” Kono calls knowingly as I walk back to the Camaro.

I shoot her a glare over my shoulder but don't stop walking to retort. I know what she meant. Once I'm in the car and have turned the engine on, Danny reaches over and shyly takes my hand. I look down at our fingers, thinking of what it means and what we have overcome, together and not, to be here now together.

The road to where we are now was rough. And I know there will continue to be rough patches, that's simply just part of our lives. But seeing him sat next to me, his hand held in mine and his eyes closed as he silently trusts me to get us home safely and then take care of him, it almost feels like a promise.

A promise to be there for each other.

I smile, squeezing his hand gently.

I promise too.

 

The End.

Notes:

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one. It seems a little too...emotionally open at the end for our gents, so, if you agree, please, let me know? I want to know what you think about this one. And thanks for reading!