Archive of Our Own ^beta

Captivity wasn’t hard for LtCdr Steven McGarrett, USN. He’d done it before. He could do it again. He’d been a Prisoner of War. He’d endured torture. It was only logical that he could survive being locked in a prison cell for twenty three of every twenty four hours. The two times in his past that it had been an option torture hadn’t ever broken him. Locked alone in a small room? That was only solitude. Solitude had never been a problem for him before.

But, this time it was different. Nothing short of his parents' deaths had hurt as much as the great big empty hole at his side and in his heart. That it was all his doing didn’t help at all.

Nothing would ever fill that hole again.

Steve had seen how much he'd hurt Danny when he’d told him not to come back. He’d seen the crack in Danny’s resolve when he told him that Chin would be his only approved visitor and Danny could go to hell. He’d seen the way Danny’s bottom lip had almost trembled as he’d struggled to muttered a stinging retort. It had taken a deep bracing breath before Danny had actually spoken, full of fire and sarcastic bluster, shielding himself from the pain Steve’s harsh words had caused.

Steve knew he’d deserved every single biting word of the diatribe that had spilled from Danny’s tightly clenched teeth. He’d seen the knowledge in Danny’s eyes that he wasn’t going to be the only one left cut to shreds, bleeding emotion at the end of this conversation.

Steve had known how deep his cruel words had cut Danny when he’d watched trembling fingers splayed against the thick glass separating them, wordlessly begging for a reciprocal touch to make everything right again, to erase the words before it was too late. Tentative, unspoken emotions bloomed in the tender lingering touch, beseeching some response, any response. Danny’s touch was a promise, even through glass, that this conversation could all be forgotten, if Steve would just meet him halfway. With three further words, Steve had deliberately reached into Danny’s chest and torn out his heart.

Nobody else would have seen that weakness, but Steve had, he knew Danny almost as well as he knew himself. He’d seen how much he had hurt him in the long minutes followed, while hard, blue eyes had searched his face, before Danny had pushed back his chair and stormed out of the visiting area. The chair had toppled to the floor, skidding against the brick wall. The noise reverberated through the cavernous room. But Steve never noticed, his eyes riveted to Danny’s retreating back. He leaned forward until he couldn’t see Danny any longer, hungrily absorbing the last glimpses he would allow himself. He may as well have torn his own heart out, but he wouldn’t sacrifice Danny for his own salvation.

Danny had a daughter and a pregnant wife to deal with. Chin had told him of Danny’s confession and Steve wasn’t going to take his family from him, not when he knew how much they meant to Danny. Family trumped whatever this thing was that was hanging between them, it had to, and Danny had to be made to realise it. They were … they had been working partners. But, ever since their first meeting he'd known that there was something there, some unspoken, unnamed thing that pinged back and forth between them, always simmering below the surface. Neither of them ever mentioned it, but they both knew it was there, new and uncharted territory that frightened the fuck out of him, so it must terrify Danny. To put it into words would be to acknowledge that it was there. So to make it easier for his partner, Steve was taking himself out of the equation.

So Steve had settled on what he thought was his only course of action. Danny had a family he lived for, a job he loved, and Steve was looking at the prospect of a dishonourable discharge and a life of incarceration, at the very least. So Steve had hurt them both and pushed Danny away, then watched him walk slowly out of his life forever. Steve’s hand had lifted to touch the glass where Danny’s had been, trying to find Danny’s lingering warmth and absorb the strength and determination he no longer had a right to share.

It hadn’t taken him long to find that this was worse than any other captivity he had experienced. Being in a cage wasn’t the problem; that was the easiest part. Crunches and push-ups burned physical energy. The nervous tension that filled his body flowed from him in rivulets of perspiration, as his muscles burned with the strain of thousands of crunches each day. Pushing his body into exhaustion was his only option until night fell.

He was allowed one hour out of his cell each day, but that just meant they released him into a bigger cage. There he jogged, round and round the small enclosure until he was dizzy, yet he still kept going. To stop was to allow time to think.

Physical exhaustion was one thing. At lights out he would collapse onto his bunk, barely able to move; only to lay there for the hours of darkness, until faint sunlight started to filter through the small barred-square, high in the wall of his cell or sleep finally claimed him.

He wasn’t allowed possessions in his cell. A blanket-covered bunk, a toilet and a sink were the only fittings in the tiny box he now called home. He didn’t need anything else. Every time he closed his eyes, he had all he needed and everything he didn’t want. To sleep would only have been a blessing. Instead, his Danny lived behind his closed eyes. Every short, muscular, vociferous Jersey inch of his beloved partner there in joyous living color. He couldn’t and wouldn’t acknowledge the tears that flowed from the corners of tightly clenched eyes until he sleep claimed him.

The darkness hid a lot of things, but exhaustion saved his sanity.