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“Don’t make me come lookin’ for you.”
Danny says it because he has to, because he knows Steve and he knows himself. And as Steve walks away and looks back at the shore and his home, Danny can’t quite bring himself to look back. He doesn’t want to risk the last thing he sees of his partner to be him walking away; would rather hold onto his smile and crinkled eyes.
So he watches the waves and the salt burns in his eyes. He’s not sure how much time passes before his phone feels heavy in his palm, and unsure of when he even picked it up, he sends a text without hesitating.
‘miss you already’
He does, because he’s alone on the beach and Steve should be with him like he always is.
Danny doesn’t really know how to feel about it. He’s still recovering, technically, but he’s going to be fine and he has a whole team of people who are going to keep showing up at the house even if he doesn’t ask them to. He really, really, tries to understand where Steve is coming from, because he owes him that much. He owes Steve everything, and he needs to respect his decision to leave, needs to find the reason.
Danny thinks back to when he found out Matt was dead and attempts to fathom the grief of that times ten. Steve lost his father ten years ago, his father figure a year ago, his mother only four months ago. His entire life has been filled with an agony that nobody should have to go through, least of all Steve. And Danny had watched him after Doris; he was a shell of himself, breaking and giving up on hope. He never thought he would leave, though.
It’s been a week since Daiyu Mei had taken Danny hostage. A week since he had to fight for his fucking life to get out of a cold room destined only to be his grave. A week since he was shot in the chest and left to bleed out on the floor, mere feet from the outside world. A week since Steve showed up and saved his life, since he held him in the backseat of the truck on the way to the hospital. A week since he woke up and asked Steve the very serious question of, “why’d you stop holding my hand?” A whole week since he saw that look on Steve’s face that’d he’d seen after Joe, after Doris.
Only, Steve didn’t lose Danny. He didn’t. But he almost did, and Danny knows it would’ve killed him because if Danny lost Steve, it would kill him too.
Danny sits on the beach for a long, long time.
He sent the message to Steve a while ago now, and it pains him just how much he meant the words.
He watches the ocean and the waves and he feels a particular kind of empty he hasn’t felt since his divorce with Rachel. He feels like he’s lost his best friend, his partner. The large pit in his stomach only grows when he realises that’s because he has lost him.
Ten whole years with the man, he thought he was going to lose Steve plenty of times. The day they met he was scared of losing him, and he didn’t even like him yet. There was a whole list of times where Danny was beside himself at the idea of losing Steve for good. When he was taken hostage by Wo Fat—twice. When they were trapped under tons of concrete together. When he was shot on that plane and Danny had to give him half his goddamn liver just to give him a chance to survive. When he heard about the radiation poisoning diagnosis. Actually, just about every case they ever worked, Danny had moments where he was genuinely concerned that the complete and utter lack of self-preservation Steve possessed was going to get him killed. And yet, it’s the decision to leave the island he calls home which takes Steve away, and Danny’s not sure whether to be pissed or relieved about it.
He loves Steve. He loves him so, so much. He loves his smile and his heart, he loves his selflessness and his dumb, goofy face. He’s loved him since the day he met him, and God help him it’s only gotten stronger each and every day for ten whole years. Danny loves Steve, and he hates Steve. He hates how he never puts himself first. He hates how he doesn’t take his own health seriously, that he never considers his own happiness if it’s at the cost of someone else’s. He hates the way he let the ones he loves treat him like the dirt under their shoe, the way he could never understand that he was worth so much more than what Joe gave him, or Doris, or, fuck, Catherine. Danny hates Steve and he loves him and he hates how much he loves him.
Having that much love to give and that much love to lose is the most terrifying thing in the world.
Danny loves his kids, his Gracie and his little boy, with every part of his being, as fiercely as the fucking sun. He loves Steve differently, but just as intensely. He would do anything to protect him, to be with him. That was the plan; to be sitting on this goddamn beach twenty, thirty, forty years down the road together, whether or not they ever became more, they were always meant to be together.
Now Danny blinks the tears from his eyes as the sun sets over the sea, his heart truly breaking as the weight of what’s happened bears down on him. Steve’s gone, for a reason Danny will never be able to wholly grasp, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see him again. His world’s ending, and for the first time in ten years, Steve isn’t there to keep him from going down with it.
Danny manages to get himself back to the house at about midnight. The team left him be, a wise decision, he thinks. Junior must’ve gone to spend the night at Tani’s and he’s glad; they deserve to hold each other tonight.
He briefly considers heading upstairs, but the walk from the beach has already winded him and his chest is flaring up from the exertion. He was due for his meds a few hours ago, but he doesn’t mind; it’s a pleasant distraction compared to the dull ache in his heart. He moves instead to the couch in the living room, spotting Eddie curled up on the end. If his heart could possibly crumble any more, it’d be nothing less than a pile of ashes. He sits beside him with a quiet groan, carefully setting his walking stick to the side. He lifts his hands to press into Eddie’s fur, stroke his ears and his back, but the dog doesn’t move. He must know that Danny isn’t Steve, and Steve is the only one he wants right now.
“He loves you, Eddie,” he says, and his voice is a whisper in the total silence and darkness of the room, it wavers like a note gone on too long and breaks like a snare. “He still loves you, and he’s going to come home, boy. He’s going to come home.”
Eddie stirs and twists his head to look at Danny with the saddest eyes his seen on him since Lazio died. Danny hates Steve for a split second all over again, for doing this to his damn dog, but it fades when Eddie nuzzles his palm, and he knows. He knows what he’s saying: I know. Because he loves you, too.
Steve says goodbye to his team, and none of it hurts as much as saying goodbye to Danny. Eddie’s a close second.
He honestly doesn’t know when he’s going to see any of them again, a reality which doesn’t actually hit him until he boards the plane. He flies coach; never needed anything more, and stares out the square window at the island he’s called home his entire life. Sunset on Oahu has always been Steve’s favourite sunset, and now the sky paints the tarmac in a glow of familiar orange and it makes his heart clench.
His phone buzzes, and a glance down shows him a text from Danny. It’s bittersweet; his eyes are wet and he’s smiling at the screen, and he thinks, don’t give me a reason to stay, not until I’ve already left.
He needs to put as much physical distance between him and the island as possible, and he can’t change his mind. Hawai’i is his home, or it had been, and it holds the greatest memories of his life, and simultaneously the most painful.
He thinks of his father, in that moment. He thinks of what might have been different if he’d not have been killed ten years ago. His death had been the catalyst for Five-0 and every single person he and the taskforce saved was a direct result of that. He had met Danny. One of the most devasting moments of his entire life had been balanced out by the single greatest, and that alone gave him comfort in his decision to leave. If things are meant to be, he’ll find his way home someday.
He’s brought out of his thoughts when a young girl takes the seat next to him. A native, pretty smile and long hair. She smiles at him and fastens her seatbelt, and Steve isn’t quite sure if he manages a friendly smile in return. He looks back out the window and eventually the plane starts moving. Once it starts picking up speed, he thinks of Joe.
He thinks of Joe and the pain he went through when he died. It’s only been a year, but it feels like longer and only yesterday at the same time, still fresh in his mind. He thinks of four months ago, of Doris. No matter what, she always made the wrong decisions. All the lies continuously put the people he cared about at risk. She faked her own goddamn death when he was just a child and then took the first opportunity to disappear again, right when he was just starting the get used to the idea of her being in his life. She died because she thought money was more important to Steve and Mary than her own life.
As the plane takes off and reaches altitude, he thinks of Catherine. He told Lincoln a week ago that she was the girl who got away, and it was true. She is the girl who got away, the girl he had planned to marry. He’d brought the ring, planned the proposal, because he’d loved her and that was the next logical step; but he knows he never would’ve gone through with it. Catherine was his safety net, marrying her seemed like the right move, but it wasn’t. He loved her, but he knows now that his feelings for her never reached a point where he couldn’t live without her. He had never been in love with her. She was too stubborn and too much like Steve, and her priorities weren’t him and that was okay, because in the end, Steve’s weren’t her either.
He takes a deep, strangled breath in as the plane levels out. The ‘fasten seatbelt’ light switches off and the hum of the commercial flight engine and light conversations among the passengers fill the cabin. He looks out the window and sees ocean and clouds; he thinks of Danny.
He thinks of his partner, his best friend, the most important person in his life. What he feels for Danny now, as he’s thirty thousand feet in the air travelling in the opposite direction, is more than he’s ever felt for anyone. He knows that he fell in love with him a long time ago, and that it happened slowly. They first met and Steve’s heart pounded a little faster and never slowed down. It was the first few months of stolen looks and coy smiles. It got stronger over the years and now it’s the only thing Steve has to hold onto; the only thing that makes sense to him.
But last week Daiyu Mei nearly killed Danny to get to Steve, and that crushed him. It can never happen again. Steve has made too many enemies, has too many ghosts, that no one he loves will ever be safe as long as he’s around. It happened with his dad, then Joe and his mom. After what happened last week, he can’t risk Danny’s life again. He won’t.
He’d prayed in the hospital chapel, begging whoever had the balls to listen to take him instead. Danny woke up.
So, if there’s any rhyme or reason to Steve abandoning his team, his dog, his home, his everything; it’s to keep them safe. It’s to keep Danny safe, even if it kills Steve to leave.
Every minute up in the air, Steve realises he might never see him again. Every minute up in the air, Steve realises his heart is breaking.
He closes his eyes and thinks of the beach, the sun, and Danny. He thinks of home.
“You stubborn son of a bitch.”
“Stop it, would you?”
“No, no, I don’t think I will, Steve, you’re as dense as a goddamn brick and you’re going to listen to me—”
“I just said—”
“You’re been in New Jersey for one week—one—and you have the audacity to tell me where the best pizza joint is. Do you know how insulting that is to me?”
“I was just going to say—”
“This is your problem, Steve, you’re insensitive, okay?”
“Oh, I’m insensitive now?”
“Yeah, insensitive. You don’t call for a week and then you finally call me about how Jersey’s best pizza bar doesn’t have pineapple pizza—that is criminal Steve.”
“Danny!”
“What?”
“I didn’t call to tell you about pizza; you were the one who asked me if I’d been to the pizza place yet—”
“Well it’s a valid question, don’t invalidate me.”
“Seriously, Danny. How are you? How’s the chest?”
Oh, is that concern Danny hears? He hates it. Absolutely hates it. It’s laced Steve’s words since ‘hello’ and he thinks it’s ridiculous, he’s been through worse and he probably will again. He had tried to divert any initial questioning by asking if Steve had gone to any of his recommended restaurants yet, and immediately gone on a (very necessary) rant to prove he was fine, back to normal. Apparently, Steve’s refusing to take the bait tonight.
He kind of wants to be pissed off about it. He wants to tell Steve off and insist he has no right to know how he’s doing. He wants to be bitter and deny any information of home, because if he left he clearly doesn’t care enough to know.
But ironically enough, hearing Steve’s voice for the first time in an entire week has been the highlight of said week, and he doesn’t have it in him to ruin that. Even if he is upset about it.
“It’s fine, you putz. Still got two weeks off. I haven’t been doing anything but lounging on your damn couch.”
“Good—The doc said you need to rest.”
“And since when do you listen to doctors?”
“Since you nearly died on my watch again.” Steve’s voice isn’t quite as light as it should be.
Danny freezes. He stops fiddling with Eddie’s collar and gives the space in front of him a look as if Steve himself was occupying it.
“On your watch? The hell is that supposed to mean?” He asks incredulously, glancing at Eddie because at least the dog knows how much of an idiot his father it. “I didn’t know you were the one who ordered the execution.”
“That’s not—Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re not acting like me and doing something stupid.”
“You’re right, that sounds exactly like you.” Danny scoffs quietly and ruffles Eddie’s ears again. He doesn’t read too much into Steve’s earlier remark, mostly because he’s too tired. He closes his eyes and imagines Steve next to him. “Eddie misses you.”
“Yeah?” Danny can hear the smile in Steve’s voice. He pictures it in his head and it feels like sunshine.
“Yeah.” He confirms. He sighs softly and drops his head back against the couch. He adds, as casually and sincere as ever, “I miss you too, babe.”
“Yeah.”
Steve’s voice sounds off; choked, not at all like Steve. His heart aches because he just knows he has that wounded animal look on his face and there’s no way for him to fix it when they’re five thousand miles apart.
“I know you had to leave, to get away from everything for a while. I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”
“I know, Danno.”
“I just want you to know. It’s an… adjustment. Like with Grace.”
“Hey, how’s she doing?”
“She’s acing all her classes. She loves it over there.” His voice takes on the soft tone he always uses when he talks about Grace. “Made the mistake of telling her about what happened. I had to spend two whole hours on the phone trying to convince her not to jump on the next plane home.”
“That’s my girl.” Steve’s smile is back, Danny can tell.
The two of them talk for an hour, mostly about Jersey and how Steve can’t stand being around so many people who sound like Danny. Danny knows he’s just covering his ass because no one is like Danny, and Steve is well aware of that. The conversation doesn’t hold much purpose other than it’s comforting to hear his voice, so much so that when it hits eleven p.m. Danny’s voice is slurring from how tired he is.
“I should let you get to bed.”
“Mmm.”
“I’ll call you again soon.”
“Mhmm.”
“Goodnight, Danno. I miss you, too.”
And with that, Steve’s voice cuts off to nothing and Danny drifts into sleep with bittersweet words in his heart, and a horrible feeling in his stomach.
Steve doesn’t actually like New Jersey. At all.
The place is loud and dirty and loud. Everything is a drag and by the time he’s exhausted all his culinary options, he’s bored of the place and ready to leave.
The people are nothing like Danny. Sure, he told his partner over the phone that they all sounded like him, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. It only makes him miss Danny more, so much that his heart hurts in a way it only had when his father died, or maybe Joe.
He wonders if Danny really felt this way about Hawai’i at first, and he feels like an asshole for not being more empathetic.
He begins to realise that this normal life doesn’t suit him at all. He feels as if his debt to the world hasn’t yet been paid, that he still needs to be saving people. He has to remind himself that this is his sacrifice specifically to save people back home.
He flies around a little, aimless, never settling anywhere after Jersey for more than a few days. Nowhere really seems like the place he’s supposed to be, and with a heavy heart he knows that’s because there’s no where he belongs except at home, with his family. He’s just wandering from state to state, hoping that maybe there’ll be a reason to stay.
He calls Danny twice a week. He needs to hear his voice and know how he’s doing. Somehow, he manages to keep their conversations vague enough that his partner won’t figure out the real reason he left, nor disclose his location on the mainland. He doesn’t doubt Danny’s threat to come looking for him, and if that ever happened, Steve wouldn’t be able to leave him a second time. He can’t let it happen.
He speaks to the rest of the team too, though not as frequently. He can’t bring himself to stay attached to them the way he needs to with Danny. Still, the updates are appreciated on both ends, and it’s good to know they’re starting to accept the fact Steve isn’t coming back any time soon.
About three weeks after he left, he’s in a hotel in Chicago at around six p.m. and sees his phone light up. It’s from Tani. It’s weird, to get a call from her out of the blue, but it could be about anything and it would be refreshing to hear her voice, so he answers.
“Hey, Tani.”
“Steve. Oh god…” Steve takes the opportunity to sit down. Tani sounds genuinely scared and it’s like he’s dizzy all of a sudden.
“Tani, what is it?”
“Danny’s been shot.”
It’s four weeks since he’s been shot, three weeks since Steve left him, two weeks since the first of their long-distance phone calls, and one week since the doctor cleared him to return to work.
Danny’s been living alone in Steve’s big house, save for Eddie, who might just be the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. Junior had kept him company for the first week, but after Danny’s selected words of encouragement, he finally grew enough balls to move in with Tani. Danny loves them both, but their relationship makes him want to puke and together, their concern for his wellbeing was driving him crazy.
Adam has been the absolute man, frequently bringing movies, snack food, pizza and malasadas to keep him busy. They both know it’s not just a distraction for the bullet wound, but neither of them bring it up, and that makes Danny unfathomably happy.
Lou checks in too, and while he’s much less discreet and much more emotional, the visits are nice enough that Danny cherishes them anyway.
Danny’s been back at work for a week. It’s weird though: without Steve, Danny is the acting first in command of the taskforce. He’s been in the position before, on the rare occasion Steve leaves the island for other business such as rescue missions or special ops, but this feels much more permanent and he doesn’t like it at all.
Danny promises the team that he’ll take it easy for a while and work from headquarters, and the team in turn promises not to constantly ask how he’s doing. He realises now, after spending so much time in HQ, that he isn’t sure how to do his job when he doesn’t have his maniac of a partner there next to him. He ends up in Steve’s office most of the time, directing the team and getting them the intel they need to find the bad guys. It surprises him how good he is at it; at leading. But it only emphasises how much he misses Steve.
Three whole weeks and Danny still has no actual idea why Steve needed to leave. Well, that’s not true. He knows it’s because he’s been through too much over the last ten years on this island, and he doesn’t blame him for needing some time. But what he doesn’t understand is why it couldn’t have just been time off work, or a vacation, or something less like forever. Steve says it isn’t, but it sure as hell feels like he’s steering clear of Hawai’i for the long haul.
He misses Steve enough that he’s starting to go through phases of warranted anger, self-pity and unconditional support. It’s a balancing act and he doesn’t talk to any of the team about it at all because that’s the shit he used to talk to Steve about and Steve isn’t here.
When Steve does call, Danny’s so relieved to hear his voice that everything else fades away and all he wants it to close his eyes and pretend they’re in the same room again. Steve turns him into a fool, and he’s worried about him and holding onto hope that he’s going to announce he’s booked a flight home, but it only leads to crushing disappointment.
Work ends up being something he loves for the distraction and hates for the reminder, and after a week back he’s itching to get back into the field just to shoot something. He gets his wish, even if it doesn’t end there.
Adam and Junior get a lead, but they’re on the other side of the island and things are time sensitive. Lou and Tani gear up and Danny joins them, despite Tani’s concerned look and Lou’s disapproving glare.
“Danny, I don’t think this is the best resolution.”
Danny gears up, doesn’t even flinch. “You think of a better one in the next two minutes, you let me know. C’mon, let’s move.”
It’s the only conversation he allows and ten minutes later they’re rolling up to the docks with SWAT still too far away to wait. He leads, knowing that inside are three high ranking members of a crime syndicate who are moments from fucking off on a boat to disappear again, and this is their shot to take them down. It’s his first time back in the field without Steve, and he knows he has to compensate for that.
Things go well, mostly. The team executes a mostly stealthy entrance and gunfire is only exchanged for less than a minute. They incapacitate two of their perps, courtesy of Tani and Danny, when the third runs. Not entirely thinking things though, Danny is the one who pursues. His lack of consideration is what he blames the second the bullet hits his chest and his body hits the ground.
Danny feels fuzzy. There’s an immediate resounding series of shots overhead, which he knows is Tani or Lou shooting at suspect three, who is officially the biggest asshole after Steve at the moment.
There’s pain; it fucking hurts, but there’s also a dullness in his chest which tells him it might not be as bad as he thinks it is. His back and his skull hit the concrete upon landing so it’s dark; well it’s too bright, actually, so he’s closing his eyes. He tries to bring his hands up to his chest but small, delicate fingers wrap around his wrists to stop him.
“Danny. Open your eyes,” Tani’s voice is clipped with concern but she also sounds like she’s going to murder him if he doesn’t do what she says.
He opens his eyes, squints against the sunlight until her perfect, terrified face comes into view. “Hey,” he mutters, then attempts to look down.
With a ground shattering realisation, he sees the bullet was caught by his vest. The relief makes him drop his head back down onto the concrete, which doesn’t help the throbbing behind his eyes. He hears Lou in the background somewhere, hazy, calling in that they had two suspects in custody and one dead at the scene. He also requests paramedics.
“Don’t move,” Tani instructs, and hey, isn’t he her boss? “The bullet hit right where your wound is.”
“Vest caught it—”
“Yeah, barely, and it’s still a fucking problem so do not move.”
She looks and sounds more serious than she normally ever is, and Danny feels like his head has rocks in it and, well, like he’s been shot. He figures there’s no harm in just doing as he’s told.
Getting shot in the vest on a regular day hurts like a bitch; the impact leaves bruising and sometimes internal tears or breaks. But getting shot in the vest in an almost identical position to the almost-not-quite-yet-healed previous gunshot wound hurts a lot more, as it turns out.
Things happen in a blur; he’s moved onto a gurney, into an ambulance, into a hospital—at some point he’s given something for the pain and his mind wanders with the passing time. He’s aware that things aren’t that serious, and that he’s fine, but it doesn’t seem real enough to keep track of.
Eventually, he’s coherent enough to understand the basics of what happened. The force from the bullet ruptured what had been healing from his injury a month ago. He’s fine, but it’s a huge step back and he’s not entirely sure what to do with the information. The doctors explain that he’s lucky the vest caught it, and he’s lucky they don’t have to operate again, and he’s even lucky that he’ll be able to go home tomorrow. But Danny doesn’t feel lucky at all, actually. He can feel the sharp pains in his chest that he hasn’t had for weeks. He doesn’t want to go back to using a cane to get around the house. He sure as shit isn’t going to stay at the hospital overnight for ‘observation’.
He’s pissed off and grumpy and snappy. He ignores the rest of his team and discharges himself against doctor’s advice, then orders them to go home and begrudgingly accepts Tani and Junior’s offer to drive him back to Steve’s. His. Whatever.
It’s dark and cold by the time he gets home. Junior helps him inside and upstairs while Tani makes him tea and organises the bedside table with his pain medication and everything else he could possibly need. They both attempt to offer to stay at the same time, but Danny insists they go home. His tone must sound firm enough, because they share a worried look before leaving him be.
He lays in Steve’s bed and stares at the ceiling, silently compartmentalising some hard truths:
He’s going to be out of work again for at least two weeks. That’s his biggest peeve right now, because being in this big house with nothing to do is definitely going to kill him before his work does.
His chest is once again a substantial concern. He has to be careful again. There’s dark, ugly bruising blossoming around scar tissue and it’s an anomaly he could’ve gone his whole life without seeing.
He almost died today. Again. That’s one he really needs to suppress, because unpacking it is too difficult right now. Right now, he just wants to mope and feel sorry for himself until he falls asleep.
Steve’s still gone, and he’s not coming back. Perhaps the most devastating, which says a lot, given the list.
His phone buzzes next to him, and he doesn’t have the energy to answer it or even look at the screen. He lets it go, just as Eddie jumps on the bed and sidles up next to him. He closes his eyes and tries to find enough comfort in Eddie to fall asleep.
His phone rings again. And again. The fourth time the buzzing starts, Danny reaches out and hits answer without even opening his eyes.
“What?”
“Danny!” Steve’s voice; relieved, panicked, heated. “I’ve been calling! Why didn’t you pick up?”
“Gee, I don’t know Steve, maybe I’m trying to fucking sleep.”
“Right—I’m sorry, I just- Tani called, she sounded worried and I thought- When she rang I didn’t know if—”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re fine? Really? You want to pull that card with me?”
“It doesn’t fucking—It doesn’t matter.”
“The hell were you thinking, Danny? Why would you go out in the field like that, take that risk so soon after what happened to you? Why would you act so stupid?”
“Steve, I’m telling you to stop talking—”
“What happened to playing it smart, huh?”
“You’re such a goddamn hypocrite…”
“Oh, I’m a hypocrite? That’s rich, Danny.”
“You were jumping off’a buildings the day you got out of hospital after you were shot, Steve, you’re a reckless asshole. I’m just unlucky—”
“No, no, you made a decision to go out with the team today, Danny, a decision which nearly cost you your fucking life!”
“Well maybe if you’d have been here watching my back it never would’a happened!”
It’s a low blow; heat of the moment kinda shit that Danny’s probably going to hate himself for later, but right now he doesn’t care. If Steve has the audacity to call him out for doing his job, he’s going to lash out too.
He’s grumpy and tired and in some pretty substantial pain, so sue him if he isn’t up for being fucking interrogated and reprimanded by the man who’s not even there to do it in person.
Fuck, what he’d give to have Steve yell at him in person.
His actions hadn’t even been a huge risk, especially compared to the shit Steve used to pull, so he has no idea why he’s so pissed off about it. It’s not even like what he said isn’t true, either; Steve never would’ve let that shit happen today.
Danny is not in the mood, and he’s lying in the dark and just wants to sleep but Steve isn’t even letting him do that.
It seems Steve is speechless now, though, and Danny counts that as a victory.
“You do not get to do this anymore, Steve. You left. You don’t get to have a say in what happens to me, so get over it.”
“That’s not fair…”
“Not fair? Oh—” Danny laughs, sharp, and on the wrong edge of hysterical. It hurts his chest. “You know what’s not fair? The fact you up and left without giving me one solid reason why. The fact you left me on this island when you’re the only reason I stayed—The fact you still think you can dictate what I do when you’re not even here!”
“Danny—”
“No, Steve. I’m done. My chest hurts, my head is pounding, and I don’t have the energy to deal with your hypocritical bullshit right now. Goodnight, Steven.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, just cuts the call and tosses the phone across the room where it lands with a dull thud on the carpet. The room is once again silent.
Everything hurts, and he hates Steve, and he loves him. More than anything, though, he misses Steve, and that aches in his chest without remorse until he falls asleep.
The conversation ends and Steve feels like he’s plummeting without a chute. To be fair, he’s been teetering on the edge since he left, so it’s not exactly a surprise.
He’s at LAX right now, he’s not sure what time it is but it’s dark and his flight isn’t for another hour. He had gotten on the next flight to LA as soon as he’d gotten off the phone to Tani, didn’t even hesitate. He knew, objectively, Danny was going to be okay, but he couldn’t speak to him in the hospital and he had to do something, so he jumped on a plane. Four hours in the air and his mind had gone through the worst possible outcomes. He started to berate himself for not being there, started to question why he even left in the first place. The second he landed he checked his phone, the messages from Tani informing him that Danny had idiotically and recklessly discharged himself from the hospital and was now at home, all by himself. Totally panicked and rattled, he had called him.
He wishes now he hadn’t.
Steve doesn’t quite know what to do anymore. His entire life, he always tried to do the right thing by others, always put the people he loved first. It’s like no matter what he does, those people just end up getting hurt anyway. Hell, Steve is the one who hurt Danny. He could hear it in his voice, how deeply cut Danny was by Steve’s decision to leave, and furthermore his lack of explanation. He must have been hiding how he really felt this whole time, every phone conversation. Steve had known it would be an adjustment, but he hadn’t considered the damage it could do.
And now—Now he’s completely lost. Does he stay away? Maybe this is the peak of the mountain, and after tonight, Danny will be done with him and finally be safe from all the risks Steve’s past brings. Maybe this is what had to happen, an honest fight where Steve can thereafter disappear for good, cut all contact. The only way Danny would ever let him go.
Don’t make me come lookin’ for you.
He hears Danny’s voice in his head. He knows he can’t just disappear. Even if Danny is mad at him, even if he hates him, the stubborn son of a bitch won’t ever let him go. Won’t ever stop until he finds out where he is. So that leaves him a second option: get on the next plane home.
What if Danny doesn’t want to see him? Steve had admittedly acted like an absolute imbecile on the phone, calling Danny out for a decision he himself would’ve made in a heartbeat. He knew Danny was just trying to be there for the team and ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he had been so fucking scared after that phone call from Tani. His fear and worry coalesced into a misdirection of anger towards Danny. He didn’t deserve any of that.
So Steve sits in the airport, a mere three weeks since he left, with his head held in his hands and his mind racing to find an answer. Steve McGarrett, experienced in a career of making decisions under pressure, feels like whether or not he gets on that plane is one of the most crucial decisions of his life. Before he knows it, the intercom calls his name, last chance to board. He only hears Danny.
What exactly is it that you’re lookin’ for?
Peace. Steve had told him peace. Now it’s time to be honest with himself about the only place in the world he’s going to find it.
Danny wakes up groggy, grumpy, and half crushed by a seventy-pound dog who wants his breakfast.
“Eddie, scram—” He grumbles half-heartedly, trying to push him to the side.
He hurts. Even before he opens his eyes he’s able to pinpoint the throbbing in his chest. It hurts like the first week after being shot; feels like a waste of time and progress. He lies there for a while, feeling the warm sun on his face from the window and pretending it’s enough to make him feel anything but heartache.
Last night hits him as hard as the bullet did yesterday.
He’d been alone, in pain and so, so tired. His walls were down and the part of him which has been aching for weeks was left vulnerable. All of that, combined with how close he’d once again come to death without truly ever expressing how he felt, was the recipe that resulted in him lashing out at Steve. He’d been harsh and unfair and god fucking dammit he can’t believe he ran his mouth like that.
He opens his eyes against the harsh light and breathes deep, breathes in the pain that it brings. He forces himself to sit up and start the day with the pain meds sitting on the bedside table. Steve’s bedside table. Maybe it’s not exactly healthy he’s sleeping here, but Steve’s bed is a hell of a lot comfier than the one in the guest room. At least that’s what Danny tells himself as he climbs out of it.
He’s always been an independent person, but the cane makes fucking everything ten times harder than it should be. He changes in front of the mirror hanging in the closet, but not before he gets a good, hard look at his bare chest. There are bandages where his wound is, and he knows beneath the crisp white is red skin and freshly torn scar tissue. What he can see is the impressively dark patches of bruising blossoming from near his left shoulder and down his sternum. He doesn’t even want to think about what the bullet impact has done to him internally. The doctors cleared him to come home, but it was still a shitshow.
He manages to swap out his sweatpants for another pair and slide into a button-up. Finally, he grabs his phone from its discarded location on the carpet and hobbles gracelessly out of the room. Eddie darts down the stairs and it takes Danny a shamefully long amount of time to follow, one agonising step at a time.
He’s still grumpy, still alone, still exhausted. He needs coffee before he can process coherent thoughts.
Eddie’s bowl is full and he has a fresh mug when manages to sit at the barstool in the kitchen, he sets his phone flat on the counter and stares at it. He glances at the archway and he sees Steve, a memory of him walking in with a smile, shirt off and his skin tanned by the morning sun and shining with salt from the ocean. He sees him happy, and he knows he was in that moment, at home with him. He looks at Eddie, who’s staring at him now, with the saddest eyes.
“What do you think, Eddie?” He sighs, and the dog whines back at him.
His phone taunts him. He taps the screen, swipes to his contacts, finds Steve. His breath catches in his throat when he hits call.
It rings. And rings. And rings.
“You’ve reached Steve McGarrett—”
Danny hits the end call button fast, biting his lip. His voicemail. He doesn’t read into it, instead locks his phone and drinks his coffee.
The empty mug finally hits the counter and Danny tries again, only to have to listen to that damn voicemail again. He hangs up.
He picks up his phone, texts Tani:
Have you heard from Steve?
A quick response:
Not since yesterday. How are you doing today?
Danny frowns, stubbornly leaving it on read for a moment as he messages Adam and Lou the same thing, both of whom report back that they’d spoken to him yesterday, at the hospital.
He tries to doubt that Steve has done something stupid after their argument last night, but he fails. In fact, it’s just about all he can do to not think the worst; that Steve’s taken the opportunity to disappear completely. He stands up with the help of his cane, too fast, and winces as he takes steps towards the living room. He’s overreacting. It means nothing.
He’s nearly at the couch, Eddie at his side, when there’s a knock at the front door. Eddie barks, runs over and sits there, completely alert. Danny groans, wondering which one of the team has drawn the short straw in checking on Danny duty. He sighs, heavy and weighted, as he follows Eddie and twists the door handle, pulling it open and squinting as the sunlight pours into the house.
“I don’t need one of you to keep checking on me—”
But it isn’t Tani, or Junior. It isn’t Lou. It isn’t Adam.
“Steve.”
The world stops, the sun a constant shining light on them as he takes in the man on the porch, the only person he’s wanted to see for weeks, and he’s right there. He’s feet away, and he looks perfect. He looks like he hasn’t slept for days, his clothes are unkempt and dirty, his face is dark with worry and a couple days’ worth of stubble. The circles under his eyes are dark and he’s so beautiful Danny can’t quite believe he gets to see him like this. The worry on his face is so clear that if Danny touches it, he’s sure that he’d be able to feel it too.
This moment, this one right here, is the only one where Danny has felt like his feet have been on the ground since the day Steve left. And he’s in so much pain and he doesn’t know how he’s here or why but he doesn’t care about it right now.
“Steve.” He whispers, and Steve looks at him, his mouth opening into a vague motion that he’s going to say his name, but nothing comes out.
The silence is broken by paws on the threshold moving so fast it passes Danny and then there’s a huge mound of a happy, whole dog that he hasn’t seen for too long at Steve’s feet, barrelling into the bags there and into some cargo pants. Steve’s face breaks into a smile, broken and sad as he looks down at his boy, his knees crumbling and then he’s on the ground with seventy pounds of dog in his arms, licking his face, whimpering so much that if Danny’s heart could shatter anymore it’d be unrecognisable.
“Hey, boy.”
Steve sounds so real, now. He can hear him and it’s not over the phone and it’s not five thousand miles away and Danny needs him to talk to him. He needs Steve to tell him he’s pissed off at him for last night, or that he’s sorry, or something.
“Steve.”
Steve looks up from the ground, and he looks so, so small there. His hands keep working in Eddie’s fur, because as worried as he looks he can’t help but give Eddie this reunion. Danny thinks that even if Steve couldn’t tell how much he hurt Danny by leaving in the beginning, that he at least knows how much it’s hurt Eddie the whole time.
Steve lifts his chin, defiant, and stands. He stands so slowly, until he’s at his full height again, and he’s looking down at Danny like he’s supposed to. There’s something Danny can’t pinpoint in his expression, something that puts a pit in his stomach, something that makes him want to forget about the whole thing entirely.
“Danny, I—”
Danny doesn’t let him finish. Not a chance. He wanted him to talk but now he can’t stand the way his voice breaks on his name. He drops the cane and he takes two steps forward, out onto their porch and he grabs Steve by the shoulder and pulls him in so hard that when their chests hit, Danny’s wound fluctuates wildly, agony pressing through his body. He doesn’t give it any mind, wrapping his arms around Steve’s body so tight that he almost hopes he cuts off circulation. Steve’s reaction is a surprised noise, from the back of his throat and the bottom of his heart, but he pulls his own arms up just as quickly as Danny knew he would. Danny can feel Steve’s heart beating through both of their shirts, and his own pounds in time, a frenzy of blood pulsing through them, far too fast. Danny squeezes his arms and closes his eyes, taking in a sharp breath. He doesn’t need anything more than this. He never has. His peace is in Steve’s arms, in his home, in his bed. And he isn’t letting go again.
Steve’s world assaults him, pulling him into a hug so fierce that he nearly loses balance, and his body reacts the way it always does when it’s Danny commanding it. He can’t believe that this man has opened the door to him and not slammed it in his face, let alone demanded so much right away. He’s confused and he’s concerned, knows that Danny’s chest much be in absolute agony right now, but he can’t pull away or loosen his grip. Shutting his eyes, he can feel his heart pounding, and his brain trying to come up with the right words to say, but Danny beats him to it.
“You don’t leave again.” His voice is so grumpy and desperate and Danny that Steve melts into the hug even more. “You don’t get to leave me again, you asshole.”
“I won’t.” He breathes, into Danny’s hair. His hand comes up to hold his head, even though he knows Danny will hate it. “I’m not—I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve says the words and he’s never meant a promise more. He knows it now, he can’t disappear again, he can’t leave the island again. It’s their home, it’s been their home since the day they met and he can’t believe he tried to deny it. No matter his past, he can’t risk the future with Danny, he can’t risk what they could have just because he’s scared of what he could lose.
Danny lets go, but stays close, rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, and when Steve pulls back slightly he sees it’s because he’s trying to catch his breath. There’s hints on pain lines on his face and anything else he wanted to say goes out the window.
“Let’s get inside, c’mon. You need to sit down.”
Miraculously, Danny doesn’t argue with him. Steve takes his arm and puts his own around his back, ignoring the bags and Eddie in favour of getting Danny off his feet. He kicks the door closed and gets Danny to the couch in seconds, lowering him down and sitting beside him, knees angled to touch his. He frowns, his palm finding Danny’s neck to hold, to feel his rapid pulse. Danny’s eyes are still closed, and he’s focusing so hard on breathing that he doesn’t get snarky about the contact.
They stay there, breathing together, Danny matching Steve’s and them finding a rhythm with each other. Eddie lays by their feet, and he’s scared too, Steve can tell. It feels like forever and not enough time passes when Danny opens his eyes again, and finds Steve’s.
“I didn’t mean it.” Danny says, not faltering for a second. “What I said last night, I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes you did.” Steve challenges, softly, his thumb gently grazing Danny’s jawline. Danny looks like he’s about to argue, but Steve doesn’t let him. “You meant it, and that’s okay. I deserved all of it, Danny.”
They both pause, and it feels uncertain. Danny takes in a breath, steeling himself for something that even Steve can’t read.
“I didn’t want you to leave. I needed you here, with me, with the team. I needed you watching my back, and telling me dumb jokes to take my mind off the pain. And I just wanted to support you, because that’s all you’ve ever done for me, but—it felt like forever, and I can’t do forever without you.”
Steve’s heart violently twists, his breath hitching as the words hit him like a freight train.
“I just can’t. Even if it makes me a selfish prick—”
“Danny.” Steve cuts him off, and he’s talking before he even knows what he’s going to say to that. “I didn’t want to leave either.”
The truth comes out without his permission in a half-ditched effort to get Danny to not talk about himself like that. It instead bites him in the ass when Danny blinks once, then tilts his head.
“Then why the hell did you?” He demands, dumbfounded and beautiful, the way he always is when Steve says something stupid.
“You can’t get mad.”
“Steven.”
“Alright.” He inches back, drops his hand down instead to his knee, and he looks away. He can’t look at Danny when he tells him the reason he left. He knows he wont quite understand it, not entirely. “You nearly died. Daiyu Mei knew how to get to me, she knew my biggest weak spot, and she went for it with everything she had. She knew how much you meant to me, and to hurt me, she was going to kill you, Danny, she nearly did—”
His voice breaks off and as he looks at the space on the carpet, Danny’s hand grabs his wrist. He doesn’t say anything, but Steve can feel the way his eyes are on him, refusing to look away. He finds the strength to keep going, despite the words that echo in his head, I have the person that you care about most in the world.
“I have made so many enemies, Danny, my whole life, and I thought—back in the hospital I thought that it had finally caught up with me. I found you half dead, held you bleeding in the back of that truck, and I knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t make it. It was in the pit of my stomach, so heavy, and I couldn’t lose you. Not you.”
“You didn’t.” Danny squeezes his arm, and that earns him a glance, short enough that he might not even notice the moisture building in his eyes.
“I prayed to God, prayed to whoever the hell would listen, that they take me instead. As long as they didn’t take you. And that feeling—I don’t think I can do it again.”
He faces Danny now, learns that it’s not just his own eyes that are watering.
“You’re still here, though. And I was so relieved, Danny, more than anything, but the pit in my stomach, it didn’t go away. It stayed there for a week, and every time I closed my eyes I saw her, ready to pull the trigger. I decided that I had to leave. I had to leave because as long as I’m here, and you’re here, and they know how much I—”
“Then they’ll come after me.” Danny finishes it for him, and he’s being gentler with the truth than Steve expected. “But you’re wrong.”
Steve’s eyes are sad. Danny’s are too.
“You saved me. You, Steve. And every day we are out in the field, I count on you, and only you, to make sure I get home that night, that my kids still have a father. You’ve never let me down, babe.”
“I just don’t want you to end up like everyone else,” Steve blurts out his biggest fear, and he’s scared, so scared of it being brushed off, “Dad, Joe, my mother, they were all because of me.”
“Steve,” Danny’s hands hold his face, his palms warm against his jaw, his eyes so damn soft. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve had to go through. You’ve lost more than any one person should ever have to, and none of it is your fault, you hear me? I know how it feels to be scared. Look at all the times you’ve nearly died on me, huh? But I am not going anywhere. And neither are you.”
“Danny—” Steve tries to look away, but his grip is firm on the sides of his jaw, keeping him from running.
“I love you.” Danny says, voice thick with emotion and pain and vulnerability.
“I know, I love you too—”
“No, Steve, you unbelievable idiot, I love you.” He clarifies, imploring Steve to understand, and holy shit, does he understand. “God help me, but I do. And I need you to just trust me that we’ll be okay, because I can’t let you go again.”
Steve feels the overwhelming sense of urgency, because he has waited for Danny to say those words for ten whole years. He has loved him with his entire heart, so fiercely and quietly that it felt like living and dying all at once, and they were always on the edge of something more but never fell. Steve has to fall.
He grabs Danny’s face and his shoulder and pulls him in, urgent but so, so gentle and careful of his injured chest. He closes his eyes and doesn’t hesitate to kiss him.
It feels like ten years of love and tension and pain and gratitude poured into one sensation. Danny has the nerve, the audacity, to not even be surprised, and wraps one of his hands around Steve’s neck, to pull him closer, to slide his fingers into his hair. It’s so important, the way Steve kisses him here, the slow parting of lips which escalates to something desperate, something knowing. Steve leans forward, follows the way Danny moves, until Danny winces in pain and Steve pulls back, just an inch, purely to avoid hurting him. He searches his eyes, concerned, and breathes him in.
“I love you too.” He says, the words dripping off his tongue, the easiest words in the world to say.
Danny takes his face again, and Christ, he has to stop doing that if he wants Steve to continue to breathe.
“Yeah, I figured, what with the kiss and all.” He whispers, nodding ever so slightly, tone encapsulating everything that Danny is; loving and sarcastic. It’s the most perfect thing Steve has heard in weeks. His face takes on a serious tilt though, and Steve isn’t so sure he knows what’s coming. “I know—I can understand why you thought you were protecting me by leaving. God, I felt that way with Gracie every time she’s been in danger because of me.”
“Danny that’s never been on you--”
“I know that, I know,” he looks up at Steve squarely, focused. “It comes with the job. I know you love me, and that’s why you left, and if you had told me that weeks ago I could have told you how much of a moron you were and we could have avoided all of this.”
“I thought it was the right thing to do.” Steve tells him that with every ounce of conviction he has.
“You loved me enough to leave me,” Danny says, hands warm on the sides of his neck, eyes soft, softer even than his voice. “So I’m asking you now, love me enough to stay.”
Leaving Danny feels like the most idiotic idea he’s ever had, and according to everyone on his team, including Danny, he’s had a lot of horribly idiotic ideas. Staring at him now, he’s not sure how he ever thought it was sane. There’s so much hope and earnest radiating from his partner, and yet, what catches him off guard the most is the insecurity he can see underlying Danny’s expression. It’s crippling; the idea that Steve is the reason Danny feels insecure at all. As if Steve could ever leave him again, as if the very idea of walking out that door wouldn’t leave him weak in the knees, unable to make it past the front porch. His stomach twists and his face falls as the world aligns, and one of his hands finds Danny’s and he nods his head once. It seems to be enough—the way Danny’s eyes light up in relief—but it’s not enough for Steve.
“I swear it. I’ll be right here, driving your car and driving you mad every day of the week, and I’ll have your back like I didn’t yesterday, Danno,” he’s smiling now, because this feels more like them, and Danny’s eye roll is picture perfect. “This is home. As long as you’re here, I promise, I—”
Danny kisses him again, and Steve doesn’t doubt it’s intended to shut him up; he always talks too much when he’s nervous, SEAL training or no. Danny however, is usually the talker, but now he just closes his eyes and kisses Steve like it’s his mission to bleed him dry. It’s deeper than the first and it leaves them both breathless once Danny pulls away, Steve chasing the absence for half a second before he manages to open his eyes.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re insufferable?” Danny asks, breathy, his eyes flickering over Steve’s face.
“I think you have, once or twice,” Steve’s just as undone, unbelieving, unsure.
Danny smiles, “You should listen to me more often, babe.”
“I’ll listen to every insane rant you ever go on if you keep kissing me like that.”
And those are the right words, because now Danny’s smiling against his lips and kissing him just as the sun shines through the window, warm and hopeful and just like home.