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The day Steve returns to the island, Danny’s world corrects itself on its axis.
Everything that had been askew, is now alarmingly balanced and the thoughts in his head are clear. The sun rose today as it had every day for the last month and now it’s shining a new light, one Danny is half convince Steve brought with him.
The morning had been everything Danny had ever been too afraid to hope for. Steve had been honest and vulnerable. He made the promise to stay. To stay on the island, to stay with Five-0, to stay with Danny. That’s all Danny really needs.
Danny spends the rest of the morning watching Steve. He watches him retrieve his bags from the front porch and stash them by the stairs. He watches him pace a hole in the living room floor until he finally picks up his phone and sends a group text to the team. He watches him answer the door not even fifteen minutes later to allow Tani, Junior and Lou to enter.
Now, Danny has a lot of confidence in their team. While Steve stammers and shifts under their scrutiny, Danny just smiles, amusement evident on his face.
They are all radiating a mixture of hope and confusion. Danny’s a detective; he can see they’re all just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Steve to announce he’s not here for the long haul.
Until Steve finally puts them out of their misery: “I’m back. Back, back. I realize now, I was never going to find what I was looking for on the mainland, or—well, anywhere else. I’ve been—” Steve glances at Danny for assistance, and Danny stoically refuses to bail him out of this one. Steve left Danny, but he also left his friends behind. He needs to make it right. “Monumentally stupid.”
Danny’s smile is warm while they each pull Steve into a hug, forgiving him in a heartbeat like Danny knew they would. They all love him, but they’re not blind. Junior seems ecstatic to have his mentor home, but Lou and Tani begin interrogating Steve like they’re interrogating a suspect.
And Danny and Steve had spoken about this before the team arrived. They decided that they weren’t going to tell them. Not yet. They need to give them time to adjust to Steve being home, to allow the team dynamic to go back to normal.
But now, Steve looks at him and Danny knows it was all futile as soon as their eyes meet.
Steve’s got this look on his face that even the most inattentive person on the island could read. Danny can see their agreement vanishing into thin air right between them, and he’d be annoyed if the look doesn’t speak volumes. He would be annoyed, if he doesn’t recognize it for what it truly means after all these times he’s been on the receiving end of it.
Danny’s smug smile fades into something softer, something knowing, and he knows they’ve just had an entire conversation in this moment. It’s a moment Danny will remember for the rest of his life.
And Steve recognizes Danny’s expression for what it is, and turns back to his team. He’s no longer nervous on his feet.
“I’m in love with Danny.”
And that’s that.
Steve closes the front door two hours later.
Tani and Junior and Lou and Adam filed out of the house altogether, and Steve considers today a relative success.
Adam had shown up at the door a few seconds after Steve’s announcement, holding a tray coffee and wearing dark sunglasses, and then all of them sat in the living room and Steve sat next to Danny and they talked about it. The team had teased them, which was exactly what Steve had needed. They didn’t care. Or they cared too much to care. Or they were just happy for them. Whatever the reason, Steve is relieved that he still has his family.
He turns to the couch and looks at Danny. He had intended to honor their agreement to wait to tell them, he really had. But then he had looked at Danny and he’d seen, maybe for the first time ever, how clear his love was without even a word. Danny was encouraging him and pleading with him and loving him with nothing but his eyes and there wasn’t a hope in hell that he was going to turn to his chosen family and lie about that.
And now he’s a little worried.
Danny has been absurdly quiet. He hasn’t moved from the couch. He’d brushed off the team’s concerns about his chest and then it was as if he sat back, let Steve take the lead.
Steve tests his feet, stepping towards the couch with a hesitant smile.
“You’ve been quiet,” he observes, and despite not being nervous in front of their whole family, he can suddenly feel the thrum of his pulse in his throat. He sits down next to Danny, watching his every expression, trying to read him like he knows he can.
“I’m not allowed to be quiet?” Danny asks, and there’s a smile in his voice that relaxes Steve a little.
He shrugs, “it’s just a little unusual, given your usual need to give your two cents no matter the conversation.”
“Oh?” Danny says, and then he’s kissing him.
Steve hadn’t even realized they’d gotten that close, but now he can’t think of anything else. Danny’s smiling into the kiss, and the lines on his face are smooth and Steve thinks, oh, because he realizes Danny is happy. He closes his eyes, revels in the moment for just a few more seconds before—
“You’re not mad?” The words are a question, confusion lacing his tone as he pulls back to check Danny’s eyes when he answers. Danny thinks about it, the asshole.
“Mad? Hm. I’m a little sore, because I’m due for some meds. And my leg is asleep. And I’m a little grumpy at how quickly the team took you back, but mad? No, I’m not mad, babe.”
Steve kisses him because anything else seems like an insignificant response to that. He knew Danny could rant and ramble and talk up a storm but he never knew his voice could twist its way into his chest and ache before today. He brings his hand up, touches Danny’s check, featherlight, and if they stay like that for a few moments too long, no one is there to witness it except Eddie, who’s fast asleep on the floor.
Danny is sitting on the edge of Steve’s bed, breathing with purpose to try and catch his breath. Steve had helped him up the stairs and is now fetching his meds and a glass of water. Danny is tired, exhausted really. His head is pulsing with the beginning of a headache and his chest is flaring up with pain, and though it feels like a lifetime since yesterday, the injury is still fresh and so is everything that comes with it.
Steve returns with everything he needs and Danny spends the next few minutes taking the pills that Steve hands him, regaining his composure. He didn’t even notice Steve leave until he’s back in front of him, holding one of Danny’s t-shirts.
“That shirt doesn’t look comfortable.” Steve says, almost dumbly.
Danny glances down at the button up, which is exclusively uncomfortable but it’s the only thing he’s able to don without hurting himself. When he looks back up at Steve, he sees a nervousness that he’s rarely seen before. Steve has run face first into gunfights, explosions and death itself without so much as a second thought, but here, standing in front of Danny, he’s nervous.
“I can only put on ones with buttons,” he explains, but he knows what Steve is intending to do, and he doesn’t have a single objection.
So, he watches as Steve drops down onto one knee and places the new shirt beside him, then allows his hands to go to work at the buttons of Danny’s current shirt. He can only see a sliver of his face, but his movements are resolute and careful as he gets through each one.
Danny knows he’s staring, his gaze intense, but there’s a sixty percent chance he’s going to wake up any moment and realize that the whole morning has been nothing but a fever dream.
Here he is, in Steve’s bedroom, on Steve’s bed, with Steve himself unbuttoning his shirt.
Okay, obviously the context isn’t exactly what he imagined, so maybe it isn’t a dream. Maybe.
Once the front of his shirt is open, he slides his arms free of the sleeves and glances down to see Steve has stopped moving, his eyes locked onto the crisp white contrast of bandages on his darkened chest.
Shit.
Definitely not a dream.
“Steve.” He says, hoping to see those eyes, but the man doesn’t move a muscle.
Steve has the material of the shirt grasped loosely in his hands, either side of Danny’s waist. He must realize he’s frozen, because he drops the shirt and his hands pull back a mere inch and hover in the air like he’s afraid to do anything else.
Danny should have known this would happen. It hurts, to see Steve like this. He can’t even see his expression but he knows Steve has fallen back into a moment four weeks ago, where he’d found Danny on the floor in his own blood.
Danny reaches out, because how can he not?
He grasps his jaw, carefully, relishes in the tiny flicker of Steve’s eyelashes as he comes back to himself, to this moment. He falters, glances up and back down at the bandages and Danny’s heart clenches violently when he finally sees Steve’s face. There’s pure, unmasked pain, and guilt so tangible Danny wants to smooth the lines of Steve’s face with his fingers.
He hadn’t even considered what seeing Danny’s chest would do to Steve. And he hasn’t even really seen it.
Steve swallows, Danny can see it, and his hands move to Danny’s sides, hovering above his ribs. “Let me change the dressing?” His voice is so hoarse Danny doesn’t even recognize it.
“Steve, that’s not a good idea.”
“Please?”
Steve’s looking at him with that wounded puppy expression except it’s amped up to about one thousand, and Danny knows this is a bad idea. He knows that nothing good can come from Steve seeing the scar tissue from a month ago or the fresh new bruises from yesterday, he knows it will only shatter Steve into even smaller pieces, knows it could threaten this new thing they have, so fragile in their grasps.
Danny also knows that it might be exactly what they need.
He sighs and lifts the hand that’s on Steve’s jaw, only to run it through Steve’s hair, which is longer now that it’s ever been.
“The kit is in the bathroom,” he says softly, but when Steve shifts to stand up, he tightens his grip on his hair to catch his attention again, “just this once.”
Maybe this is what they need, to come to terms with the guilt Steve still feels about Daiyu Mei almost killing Danny to get to Steve. To get everything out in the open. For Steve to finally understand that Danny is fine, that he’s going to be fine. But damn it if it’s going to be a regular thing. He can’t stand the sadness on Steve’s face and he’s more than capable of keeping up with his own aftercare. So, just this once.
Steve nods, and then he disappears again, this time to the attached bathroom.
It’s less than a minute before he’s back, kneeling in the space in front of Danny, unzipping the kit. Steve is actively avoiding Danny’s eyes, resolutely taking out fresh bandages and gauze and tape.
Steve isn’t quite sure why he’s doing this to himself, but there’s a horrible constricting feeling in his stomach that’s been there since he saw the bandage and it feels like guilt and fear and anger.
He thinks of three weeks ago as his plane ascended into the sky and flew him far away from Danny, and knows he left him unhealed and hurting and now, as it turns out, completely heartbroken. He’s focusing far too hard on keeping his face blank as he turns back to Danny’s chest, everything laid out next to him and ready to go.
Only he freezes again, looking at the harsh purples and blacks that frame the bandage, exploding out as if the colors were drops of dye, splashed into clear water. He feels the crippling guilt of not being there yesterday. He could have saved Danny from this, from the agonizing reset of all the progress he had made and the fresh pain that came with a vest hit. Hell, if Steve had been there at all, he never would’ve let Danny out into the field. He’d have been the extra man Tani and Lou needed and Danny would’ve been safe at HQ.
He reaches out to the tape surrounding the bandage and so, so softly, begins to peel it away from the bruised skin with his left hand, his right hand spanning gently across Danny’s left side. Danny, the saint, doesn’t flinch at all as the adhesive is pulled away, but Steve is precise. He’s slow and steady and when the bandage is finally removed, he carelessly drops it to the floor.
He sucks in a sharp breath. He thought he’d known what to expect here, but it’s so, so much worse. He’s somewhat aware of Danny’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, but it’s happening somewhere far away. All he sees is the gunshot wound that he might as well have put there himself.
The scar tissue. Steve hasn’t seen it, not like this, not since the day it happened. All he could see the day it happened was blood.
There’s scarring where the bullet hit, and from the surgical incisions that saved his life. The impact scar is healthy, or it would have been before yesterday. Now, it’s inflamed, red and angry looking. It looks like it’s not even a week old. The straight lines of the surgical scars are also less than attractive. Doctors usually recommend not getting shot again after the first time, especially in the exact same place as before. The only thing Steve can take solace in is the fact that Danny didn’t bleed, yesterday. He was shot again and hurt but there wasn’t a single drop of blood. He somehow doubts that Danny felt that same solace, but to Steve, it helps.
And that’s the thing; Steve has experienced this before. He’s been shot before and operated on; he knows how it feels post-surgery. He’s also taken a bullet in his vest, and he’s aware of the force that hits you both in the moment and the days to come. He knows all of it. Somehow, what Danny is going through now seems unimaginable.
“Steve?” His name sounds so perfect on Danny’s lips, but he can’t bring himself to look up. “Steve, I’ve been shot before. You saved my ass then too, remember that?”
Steve does, though he wishes he could scrub it from his memory. He has every single moment where Danny was hurt or almost died, catalogued in his brain.
His hands begin to work again, taking a fresh bandage and some tape. He tries to clear his mind completely, focus only on the task at hand. His SEAL training kicks in and he’s able to function.
“The doctors did scans,” Danny says, “Internally, there’s some bruising, some strain. I’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.”
Steve cuts the tape with his teeth, adheres it to the bandage and Danny’s skin with precision.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Steve almost looks up at that, but just finishes up with the last piece of tape. “Not yesterday, not a month ago. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It comes with the job, babe, we both know that.”
Danny’s trying to absolve him of the guilt he feels. Logically, he knows he’s right. Even though Daiyu Mei targeted Danny because of Steve’s actions, he knows it isn’t his fault. That’s the difference between Steve ten years ago and Steve now; he knows rationally that all accountability is placed on the bad guy. But it’s the nagging feeling in his heart that’s still the same from ten years ago; that everyone he dares to love would still be better off not knowing him. It’s the reason he left, it’s something he has to work on if he wants to have this life with Danny.
Finally, finally, he looks up. There’s a small mess of supplies on the carpet around him. Danny is looking at him with nothing but love and concern.
He clears the lump from his throat. “When my dad died, I held onto guilt for a long time. Victor killed him, because I killed his brother. It was him or me. I replayed that moment over, and over in my head, thinking of everything I could’ve done differently.”
“I know,” Danny runs a hand through Steve’s hair again and Steve leans into the touch, closes his eyes.
“If I had just shot him somewhere else, or not picked up the phone, or just let him shoot me—”
“Steve.”
“I know, I know,” he opens his eyes, sets both of his hands on either side of Danny’s waist, gentle. “I know that’s insane. I know Victor was probably going to kill him no matter what I did. I made amends with it, forgave myself for pulling that trigger because I met you. And ten years later—”
He has to laugh, a horrible, one syllable note that sounds choked even to his own ears. His eyes sting. Danny is worth more to him than anything, and Daiyu Mei knew that. She called Steve and gave him the same fucking ultimatum that Victor had, and it was Steve’s worst fear thrown into fruition.
“I know it wasn’t my fault. But it was. She didn’t take Junior, or Tani, or anyone else, she took you. I followed her orders because I couldn’t make the same mistake I made ten years ago. She tried to kill you anyway.” Steve knows this is just rehashing the facts, but he thinks he’s making his way to a point. “I act like I’m invincible and I can do anything, but the second somebody threatens you, that’s it. I would choose you every time. If it was you, that Victor had, I would have let Anton shoot me.”
“Steve, where are you going with this?” Danny asks, and he’s starting to look really sad. Steve hates that. Danny was happy less than an hour ago. Steve has fallen onto both knees now, and he’s still there in the space between Danny’s legs.
“I love you. And I’m scared that loving you is going to hurt you. And I’m working on that, because I’m not ever going to stop loving you.” It’s the reason he left. He knows now, he’s never going to leave Danny again. “What happens when the very criminals we’re hunting figure out what we mean to each other? Danny, they’ll use it. They’ll use it just like she did”
“They never did that when it was you and Catherine, Steve.” Danny reminds him, but Steve already knows the flawed logic there.
“I never loved her like this.”
Danny sucks in a quick breath. After he seems to mentally save those words in his head, he takes Steve’s face in his hands. “Steve, you aren’t getting it. We’re morons who’ve been in love with each other for years. We bicker like an old married couple out in the field every day. What exactly do you think is going to change?”
Steve considers this, as much as he can while Danny’s holding his face like this. He’s absolutely right. Daiyu Mei saw it before they even they did.
“This island and this job and you forcing me into this partnership is the best thing that ever happened to me, Steve. And getting shot a few times and being buried under buildings; it’s all a small price to pay for getting to do what I love with who I love. And I’ll complain about it all the same, and you’ll keep jumping off of buildings and running into fires all the same. And at the end of the day, we will come home together.”
Steve is still petrified, but Danny makes it sound easy and perfect and he has this look on his face that he’s not going to let Steve drown here in this guilt. Steve wants to just let go and dive in, be happy, live the life he’s always wanted to live, the same one he’s been living the last ten years.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” Steve asks, his heart racing in his chest. He can see the sincerity in Danny’s eyes, but there’s still a part of him that’s terrified. That part of him is never going to go away, he thinks.
Danny rolls his eyes. A complete change in demeanor, he looks at Steve like he can’t even believe he just asked that question.
“Does a bear shit in the woods, Steve?” He asks incredulously. “Yes, this is what I want. So please stop feeling guilty about this, because in the end, if I hadn’t gotten shot, we’d still be dancing around this like idiots.”
“Danny.” Steve says disapprovingly, but he’s wearing a hesitant smile now. He realizes how close they are, how intimate this moment would be had they not have had this conversation.
“Come here.” Danny orders, reaching down for the front of Steve’s shirt and pulling him up.
They kiss, and it’s still so new. Everything before now had been wrapped up in the moment and the adrenaline of confessions and declarations. This isn’t that. This is full of promise and sincerity and it feels real to Steve, now, like this sensation is his to cherish for the rest of his life. He can feel the permanence of it in his chest, on his lips. He revels in it, because it makes every other concern he still has about the future of this relationship melt away. Nothing matters but this. And as he lifts up from the floor and leaves his mess of medical supplies, old and new, he leaves those worries too.
He’s a big guy, but he climbs up onto the bed and over Danny to his side, extremely careful not to jostle his partner as he moves. They’re still kissing, but it subsides once they both settle onto their sides, facing each other. Steve can’t believe this gets to be his now.
He never helped Danny into another shirt, but the sheets are pulled up enough that he can’t see the bruising on his chest. He counts that as a win. Steve is still too afraid to touch him whilst he’s injured, so he keeps a very noticeable but tiny gap the entire lengths of their bodies. Danny definitely notices, but he chooses not the say anything.
“I’m going to make us a rule.” Danny’s voice is smooth, and it comes after a considerable silence. “We’re going to get hurt on the job, small or major, it’s just the way it is. We’re allowed to be concerned, panicked, even angry; but we aren’t ever allowed to feel guilty. Okay?”
Steve considers this rule. He knows it comes from a place of knowing they can be happy and have a normal life. He knows Danny, in this moment, is the one with the confidence in their future. He knows that guilt, and its hold over Steve today and over the last month, has been the reason for their combined pain. He knows guilt has no place here, not anymore. Steve thinks it’s a good rule.
“Okay. No guilt. It’s a rule.”
Danny beams at him, sleepy and perfect, and Steve starts to feel a little bit of comfort in Danny’s certainty. This is the first day of the rest of their lives, and he’s not going to let it end on anything less than perfect.
There’s nothing left to say, and Steve watches Danny as his eyes close and his breathing evens out, deep and quiet. He watches him sleep until the sun goes down and an orange glow settles over the room. He thinks about all the nights Danny slept here, in his bed, alone and hurting, all because Steve’s guilt had gotten the better of him. So, he vows to do better, be better. He figures, being here now, is a good start.
He falls asleep to the sound of Danny’s breathing. He dreams of the ocean.
They wake in the morning with an Eddie-sized lump between them. Steve says good morning first, and Danny’s voice is nothing but Jersey when he says it back. The island sun beats down on them through the cracks in the curtains.
Steve may not have ever thought he could have this, but he’s living it now and he tries to fathom how he ever went without it. He knows, deep in his heart, this is where they’re supposed to be.
He left the island to find peace?
He came home to claim it.