Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There it was.

Steve McGarrett stared out the tiny window of the airplane totally enthralled with the image thousands of miles below his feet. After nearly 3 months traipsing around the world, nothing he'd seen ever topped the sight of the island of Oahu from the air. It seemed smaller from his view in the plane - just a rock in the middle of the vast ocean - but colors sprang from the island in a vivid chorus offering aloha to all who laid eyes on it.

Deep forest greens, rich browns, sparkling white sand, cobalt blue ocean gradually giving way to turquoise… it was so much more than a tapestry of paradise.

It was home.

Every time he saw this view, it took him back to that day when he'd flown into Hickam to bury his father. That entire series of events - a trip that was meant to be no more than a couple days before returning to duty - changed his life forever. He hadn't even realized that he'd begun to associate that first spot of green beneath the clouds with a funny twist in his gut that traced directly back to that first journey home.

As that feeling rose within him once more, Steve toyed with it for a moment and examined it from all angles. He couldn't call it 'nostalgia' or 'longing.' It certainly wasn't anything like joy, nerves, peace, dread, or fulfillment. No, this thing was persistently present each time he glimpsed the island - even when returning from the worst moments life threw at him.

North Korea.

Catherine in Afghanistan.

Danny's imprisonment in Columbia. Chin in Mexico.

Joe's death, Doris's death.

That was just a taste of the laundry list of horrors.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he breathed in deeply through his nose and steadily pushed the air through his lips before inhaling once more - just as his therapist taught him. He'd worked up the nerve to talk to someone - a professional that Sam Hanna recommended - about the nightmares and the spells and the fear. The word 'PTSD' had been thrown around a couple times, but for once, Steve didn't resist the hypothesis. He refused to run from his problems any longer - his friends deserved better. If he was truly going to find peace, he wasn't going to settle for some cheap imitation.

Peace, he'd learned, was only won through the painful battle of healing. And he was nowhere near that yet, but he was trying. However, a key element was missing and he briefly wondered if Hawaii was that missing piece.

Well, that was why he was here, sitting on a plane staring down at the island he still called home. Only, it didn't entirely feel like home anymore; the thought reminding him of that strange clenching sensation in his chest.

It wasn't home, it was… hope.

Not that Steve had flown home to bury his father with anything resembling hope. But that moment in the cockpit staring at the great expanse of his childhood home was the moment when everything changed, when his life was set on a course of greatness.

After all, he'd been at rock bottom in that moment - mourning his father and Freddy, furious with his sister for her apathy towards becoming an orphan, and chasing after the only thing that seemed to mean anything anymore.

Vengeance.

But being home sparked something inside him, and that flicker swelled to a flame when Detective Danny Williams pulled a gun on him in his own garage. And that flame grew to a roaring bonfire when Chin rose from the table to follow Danny and himself outside, when Kono decked that idiot wannabe surfer. Hope for a future that was more than completing missions to wipe out the worst of humanity (and losing himself bit by bit to it each day) replaced vengeance.

Each time he saw the island from the air after that, that hope evolved to match the situation… but stubbornly stuck with him. No matter how bleak the circumstances, hope still burned bright.

It was enough for tears to prickle his weary eyes, blurring the sight of Hawaii drawing closer and closer.

Trying to distract himself before he broke down in tears on an airplane full of tourists, he sucked in another breath and glanced over at the familiar figure in the seat next to him. She too seemed utterly enamored with the sight of the approaching island, stretching across the seat to catch a glimpse out the window.

"Y'know, you could've just told me you wanted the window seat," he joked. "But no, you insisted on taking the aisle seat because you 'care more about the legroom than the view.'"

Despite her awkward position, Kono Kalakaua still managed to punch him hard enough to leave a bruise on his arm. He yelped appropriately, rubbing his arm as she leaned even further across his seat. "This is what I get for being a gentleman," he grumbled, earning another punch from Kono. "Ow, what the hell, Kono!"

"That's for ruining the moment!" she scolded, craning her head to see out the window. "Danny's right, you're definitely a neanderthal. I've met teenagers with better manners than you."

"I let you choose what seat you wanted!" Steve protested. "I mean, if anyone should get the aisle seat, it should be me. My legs are longer than yours."

Rolling her eyes, Kono pinned him with her patented perp stare. "Okay, if you're gonna be a child about it, let's switch. C'mon." Unbuckling her seatbelt, she gestured for him to do the same.

Steve didn't move, barricading himself in front of the window. "No, we can't switch."

"Why not?"

Steve threw up his hands and began ticking off reasons on his fingers. "First, you picked that seat so you gotta deal with the consequences. Second, I'm comfortable and I don't want to move. Third, the seatbelt light is on, so we're technically supposed to stay in our seats with our seatbelts on."

Kono's jaw dropped. Staring at Steve with a half-incredulous, half-amused expression, she let loose a laugh that relaxed a tension Steve didn't realize he carried. "Seriously? You're quoting rules at me right now?"

"Why not?" Steve stubbornly insisted, refusing to admit that he'd accidentally shown his hand. "They exist for a reason."

"Yeah, and your reason for their existence is typically for you to break them." She elbowed him sharply in the ribs, then moved back to her own seat. "I guess Danny finally got to you, boss, or there's something you're not telling me."

Steve shrugged, a wave of nostalgia hitting him out of nowhere. "Not technically your boss anymore," he pointed out. "Pretty sure the only person you answer to nowadays is named Kono Kalakaua."

Something in Kono's playful smile softened. Steve studied her expression, noting the lines of experience gracing the still-youthful face. No, Kono certainly wasn't the fresh-faced rookie who called him 'boss' ten years ago.

She'd grown up, and Steve couldn't be more proud.

"You'll always be my boss," Kono said gently, as though she could read his mind. "Some things never change."

"Except when everything changes."

Kono tilted her head, humming a neutral tone as she considered his tone. "Maybe," she decided after a while, "but things change out of necessity. They change because they have to, and we're better for it. But the important stuff - the core of who we are and how we relate to other people - that stuff doesn't change. It just gets… refined."

Steve considered this for a moment, turning the statement over in his head and looking at all the angles. "When did you get so wise?"

"So when I was younger, I joined this incredible team of supercops who fought crime in this tropical paradise called Hawaii," she joked, though her eyes conveyed the truth of every word she spoke. "There were three guys on the team - plus me - and other people came and went. Those dudes, despite smelling absolutely awful 90% of the time and throwing around testosterone like it was candy at a parade, taught me everything I know."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, his tone falling well short of sarcasm. No, it sounded more like a plea.

But Kono didn't call him out on it, more than willing to bolster his ego on this topic. "Yeah, really. One guy taught me wisdom through compassion, another taught me wisdom through sacrifice, and the last one taught me wisdom through courage. And though we've all changed over the years, that ohana will never change. Grow, certainly, but not change."

Swallowing hard, Steve broke eye contact and stared unseeingly out the window. After a moment, he dared to look back and say, "I don't know about that. I might've broken it, y'know, by leaving. I should've waited, but I didn't realize that until it was too late. Going back would've just made it worse."

"You're referring to Danny." Kono studied him, reading all the lines on his face like an open book. "Have you talked to him?"

Damn, that woman was perceptive.

Steve chewed his bottom lip, weighing his words with more care than he handled most grenades. "Yeah, but some things can't be said over the phone, y'know? He can be pretty secretive when he wants to be, and he wasn't exactly forthcoming when I asked about his health. I know that's partly because I left, just like everyone else in his life. And our last phone call wasn't exactly cordial."

It was rather vague, but based on how her expression relaxed, Kono had no problem translating the unsaids. "You guys have the strongest friendship I've ever seen, and I have no doubt you'll weather this storm just as you have all the others. Brothers fight, but in the end, they're still brothers. It's gonna take work, but it'll all work out if you're willing to put in the work."

"It's a two-way street, Kono."

"Yeah," the former surfer shrugged and grinned, "but despite all his grumbling, Danny really missed you. He'll give you a hard time, but he'll come around. He always has before."

Only this wasn't like before. Danny hadn't been tortured and used as leverage by Steve's enemies before. Steve hadn't abandoned a basically-incapacitated Danny before. Danny had never been so upset that he couldn't look Steve in the eyes as he bit off an insincere 'Love you too' before. This situation was so much more complicated than Steve forgetting to thank Danny for donating his liver or Danny making light of Steve's very real trauma.

But that wasn't a problem for now. Instead, he offered his former teammate a smile and gestured out the window. "You ever get tired of seeing the island from up here? This view might be one of my all-time favorite views."

And just like that, Kono was leaning across his lap again with her elbow digging into his stomach to get a good look at the approaching island. "It's beautiful," she breathed, then wrinkled her nose. "It's kinda weird, though. Seeing this always used to mean I was coming home, like this was the finish line. This time, I'm only visiting… it's not home anymore."

"I know the feeling."

"And I'm not saying Hawaii isn't still my home, but it's not my current home, y'know? This is the first time I've come back in three years, and I'm not sure what scares me more: how things have changed, or how things are the same." She paused, straightening in her seat. "But the weirdest thing might be the fact that I'm not staying."

Yeah, me too.

Tearing his eyes away from the windows, Steve smiled at Kono. "I'm really glad I got to spend this time with you. I mean, I missed you and Chin ever since you both left, but I didn't realize how much I missed you until I saw you."

"Awwwww, boss," Kono cooed. "I missed you too. This was perfect."

She opened her arms for a hug and Steve gladly accepted, enjoying every moment spent with his younger teammate before they separated once more. After her cousin's wedding (someone on the Kalakaua side, she'd explained, which is why Chin wasn't attending), she'd be off in the wind once more chasing bad guys like the badass she was. And he was…

Well, whatever the next step in his journey happened to be, he was looking forward to it.

"Three years, huh?" he said when they pulled away from each other. "Your family is gonna roll out the red carpet. Should I prepare for the paparazzi?"

"You definitely should, but they won't be there for me." Kono cackled evilly. "Lou called to ask me when the plane was gonna land, and knowing the fine Five-0 ohana, they've probably got a full-blown 'Welcome Back' barbeque planned… maybe a parade too."

Groaning, Steve barely resisted the urge to facepalm. "Damnit, you're right. All I wanna do is sleep right now. I don't even know what timezone my body is adjusted to right now, but it definitely feels more like midnight than 2 in the afternoon."

"Well, you better get ready, boss. I kinda get the feeling you're gonna be up shaking hands for quite some time."

As they leveled with Diamond Head, Steve discovered that he was strangely looking forward to it. Home or not home, his ohana was here and he'd missed them more than… well, more than words could possibly say.

Be it paparazzi or difficult conversations, Steve was more than ready.

~H50~

"Williams, where the hell are you? McGarrett's plane is supposed to land in less than an hour!"

Rolling his eyes at Lou's anxiousness (and people had the nerve to say that Danny was the mother hen in Five-0), Danny focused on weaving through traffic. "Relax, Lou, I'm gonna make it. I just had to finish some stuff at the office. Believe it or not, you don't gotta be six hours early for everything, buddy."

Lou ignored his jab and predictably fixated on the completely inconsequential part of the sentence. "You were still working? Danny, I know the doc cleared you for desk duty, but I believe the work 'light' was in there somewhere too. You're not even supposed to be working half days yet!"

"What are you, my mom? I'm fine."

Lou's exasperated sigh almost made Danny smile. "C'mon, man, you know I'm not tryin' to nag you. But your recovery - -"

"- - is taking a little longer than expected," Danny interrupted, honking at a driver who swerved in his lane. "So what? I'm old now, Lou. I don't rebound as quick as I used to. You of all people should know that age slows you down."

"Hey, watch it! You're lucky I love you, or I'd bust your mouth for that little comment. 'Me of all people' my ass." The Chicago native's chuckle, however, took the sting out of his words. "I'll have you know that this old guy can still whoop your pathetic ass all the way back to Jersey."

Danny allowed himself to grin, just a little, at the banter. It reminded him of the good old days. Back then, he would've responded to the challenge instantly with a sarcastic quip of his own. In the ensuing verbal war, both combatants would attack relentlessly with all the love they could muster.

But that was in short supply these days. Recently, it took all of Danny's strength to feel anything at all, to rid himself of the numbness that swallowed his heart whole. So today - like many days recently - he simply allowed the challenge to ebb away like the receding tide.

Of course, Lou saw his reticence for exactly what it was. "You nervous?"

"To pick Steve up from the airport?" Danny managed to bark out a half-convincing laugh. "Pretty sure the only thing I need to worry about is that Neanderthal stealing my car keys, and I'm guessin' he's too jet lagged to even try it."

Lou sighed, something he seemed to be doing an awful lot recently. "C'mon, Danny, you know what I mean. Level with me."

"Really, we're gonna do this now? Seriously, I'm fine."

And Danny was. Sure, Steve left him three months ago sitting in a chair on the beach too weak to get up. And he hadn't been there to battle Danny's demons with the injured man - be it nightmares or those days when leaving the house became far too much for him to bear. And yeah, they hadn't talked at all in those three months outside of some brief phone calls and occasional goofy texts. It was still fine, it didn't matter.

Steve finally took the chance to confront and deal with his own trauma, and Danny couldn't be more proud of the guy. If that came at the cost of his own comfort, so be it. Who was he to hold the man back?

So what if his ribs still ached like someone was breaking them over and over again? Why bother telling anyone about the stabbing feeling often radiating over the bullet wound?

He didn't need anyone fussing over him when he forgot to eat or when the sight of food was enough to send him to kneel before the porcelain throne. No one needed to know that he woke up some nights screaming - for Steve, for Matty, for Meka or Billy or his old partner Grace, or even for his kids sometimes - and that he never fell back asleep after that. Danny managed just fine on his own.

Like he kept telling everyone who asked, he was fine.

He didn't even realize he'd zoned out until a car horn brought him back to the present. Blinking, he tuned back into Lou's rambling rant that centered around the theme of calling Danny out on his 'load of crap.' "- - and I know you missed your boy. It's okay to admit it; no one here judges you for it. Hell, we miss him too!"

Not like I do, he thought.

"I know, Lou," he said.

"And it's okay to be nervous to see him again! There are some conversations you two need to have, but that can wait. Just enjoy getting to see your best friend again."

"My best friend?" Danny scoffed, the smirk on his face bleeding into his voice. "I wouldn't go that far. He's more like a stray dog I made the mistake of feeding and now he thinks I've adopted him or somethin' like that."

The Chicago native chuckled, easing some of the tension in Danny's back as he passed the 2 mile sign for the ramp for the airport. "I'm gonna tell him you said that. Can't tell you how much I've missed my daily free entertainment." He paused, seeming to weigh his words, before blurting out, "I'm sure he's excited to see you too, Danny. All he does is ask questions about you half the time we talk."

Now that welled up a whirlwind of mixed emotions in Danny's gut that the detective promptly shoved back down into the apathetic void. He didn't have the energy for this, not when Steve was so close after so long. For now, he enjoyed the nearly-unbearable anticipation of seeing the man he considered his brother. And later, when the novelty of having Steve back in his life for however long the man deemed to stay, he'd deal with the rest of those not-so-nice emotions.

"Yeah?" Danny smiled, permitting his hopeful elation to swell to the surface. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to seeing him, even if it's just a brief stop on his global quest for peace."

Changing lanes, a car ahead of him caught his gaze. It was a white four-door, an older model that had seen better days, but it was utterly unremarkable. Unsure of what drew his attention, the detective squinted and attempted to make out the battered, mud-splattered license plate.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, Williams. He's gonna give you hell if he sees all of us here and not you."

"Uh huh." Only half-listening and unable to ignore his hard-won instincts, Danny maneuvered his car closer to the suspicious vehicle. "Hey Lou, the active investigation we're working right now - -"

"The Mac Taylor case?" Lou's voice hardened. "You know you ain't supposed to be involved in that. The Doc said nothing strenuous, and a dismembered college student definitely qualifies as 'strenuous.''

Rolling his eyes, Danny cut a car off and pulled in behind the beat-up car. "Yeah, yeah, so maybe I looked into it a little bit. Whatever. Skip the lecture, alright? Your suspect's car… what was the description?"

He could practically hear the older man's shrug. "2008 white Chevy Cruze. Dirty with a dent on the passenger's door. License plate - -"

"- - HGX 212," Danny finished, sighing as he watched the sign for the airport exit ramp pass by. "I got eyes on it right now… actually, I'm right behind it."

Silence.

Then Lou unleashed a torrent of swear words, cursing Danny out and warning him of what should become of Danny should he even consider going after the suspect. And Danny understood, he really did. Damn it, he was supposed to be at the airport greeting his best friend after a three-month absence! An absence that - given his luck - would probably begin again after a few days of reprieve. The last thing he wanted was to get in a car chase with a suspected killer.

Especially after what happened the last time you were in a car chase, the annoying little voice in his head whispered.

Shut up, he growled back.

"Hey, hey!" he interrupted the other man's tirade, which was still going strong. "I don't got a choice, alright? I took an oath to protect people from murderous scumbags, just like you did. And I don't get a free pass because my ribs hurt when the weather changes!"

"Don't start with me, Williams! You know damn well that's not why you're on desk duty!" Yeah, Lou was definitely still pissed, but at least he was slowing down a bit. "Just call it in and discreetly tail him until backup shows up. That's it! You hightail it outta there the second you see a black and white."

"For crying out loud, Lou, I'm not a child!"

The Chicago native ignored this. "Steve's gonna kill me, you know that, right? I'm as good as dead. He'll walk off that plane, see you're not here, and he's gonna do some crazy SEAL crap when he finds out why."

Swallowing a huge lump in his throat, Danny very nearly turned around right then and there. He glanced at the clock before refocusing on the car he was tailing. "I can still make it," he growled. "The plane lands in like thirty minutes, right? As soon as backup arrives, we'll take this guy down and I'll book it to the airport, alright? If I'm not there when he lands, just… stall a little bit and don't tell him what I'm doing. Okay?"

"Okay, man, whatever you say." Lou still sounded doubtful, but at least he backed off a bit. "Keep me updated, and please, be careful!"

Hanging up, Danny quickly called for backup as he followed the car off a different exit heading back into the city. The road congestion only increased, making it a challenge to stay on the suspect's tail without either giving himself away or losing the car. It wasn't a good situation, he realized, as the car took two right hand turns one after the other. The suspect could just be sticking to his route, or he could be checking for tails.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, he silently urged HPD to hurry up. Of course, right as he mentally pleaded for luck to swing his way just this once, the white car made a quick left and accelerated. With the screech of rubber on asphalt, it careened ahead at a speed far from safe on the heavily-trafficked road.

Damn it, I've been made!

Flipping on his sirens, Danny nailed the gas pedal to pursue the fleeing vehicle. His hands clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip as he sank into the familiar sights and sounds of the chase. Over the past ten years, he'd come to know these sensations almost better than his own name.

This time, however, it was almost like he was taking them in through a barrier - like he was trapped underwater while the world passed by above the surface.

Screech! of tires squealing through hairpin turns.

Blue and red lights flickering - those were his - and the sun nearly blinded him as it reflected off metal.

Honk! Now, that one came in a chorus, angry drivers blaring in perfect harmony.

The blur of trees and other cars blurring in his peripheral vision as he sped by.

AAAAAhhhh - OOOOooooOOH! came the wail of sirens joining the chase.

Growling engines fighting for dominance as the cars accelerated.

"Hey, Steve, I got a, uh, crazy tail on me and they are not being discreet at all!"

Breath exploding from his lungs, Danny grit his teeth and pounded his hand against the steering wheel. But the pain, just like everything else, faded into the fog slowly filling his head. No, no, no! Not now!

"Alright, hang tight. We're on our way."

"Do me a favor and hurry up! They're all over me, Steve! They're up my ass, alright?"

And with that, the bumper of the car he so desperately pursued blipped out, replaced with the sights and sounds of a day he'd pay any price to forget.

"Okay, copy that. Listen to me, we are headed for you now, okay? We're on the way, Danny."

Crack! Pop-pop-pop!

Gunshots, swerving. He hit the brake pedal without realizing it, boxed in by the two black SUVs.

"DANNY!"

Then came the hands, prying his door open. They yanked him from the safety of the Camaro, bruising his arms with far-too-tight grips. And just as his panic reached an all-time high, a black hood was thrown over his head. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe.

HONK!

A blaring car horn shattered the nightmare, throwing him back into the present with such ferocity that it nearly gave him whiplash. Blinking, he took in the scene in a split second.

Somehow, he was still careening down the road at top speed. That alone was a minor miracle. The suspect had slowed to take a 90 degree turn, leaving skid marks on the road.

But thanks to the little mental episode, Danny was going too fast to make the turn. In fact, he was right on top of the guy.

No human could've possibly reacted quickly enough to prevent the impending accident. With all the speed of a 4 cylinder sports car, the detective's car slammed into the exposed side of the beat-up Chevy Cruze. And Danny's world erupted in crunching metal and shattering glass.

Chapter Text

For perhaps the ninth time in the past fifteen minutes, Duke Lukela fought the extremely strong urge to roll his eyes as Detective Danny Williams insisted with no small amount of indignation that he was fine.

Danny wasn't, of course, but that was hardly the point. And Duke, despite his seemingly limitless patience, decided the guaranteed battle to follow his observation to be both futile and an unnecessary stressor on his blood pressure.

After all, he wasn't getting any younger. These days, he felt his age more and more with each aspect of the job - especially over the past three months. Anyone with any sort of observational skills and half a brain noticed the dramatic shift in the tide of Hawaii's finest. Yet most failed to understand the full scope of all that caused this deviation; they merely adjusted and rode the wave accordingly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), Duke was one of the few who knew the whole story. It was part of the reason he decided against challenging Danny's very false claims of wellbeing.

Danny hadn't been fine for three months - maybe longer - and Duke wasn't sure he was brave enough to point that out to the younger detective. Instead, he kept his mouth firmly shut and sternly stared down the man until he stopped fighting the poor medics and let them do their job.

Once he was certain of Danny's grudging cooperation (a small victory that he silently celebrated), the older sergeant turned his attention back to the rather impressive wreckage. Thankfully, only two cars were involved in this particular collision - Danny's and the perp's. With traffic like this, images popped unbidden into Duke's head about just how much worse it could've been.

Mentally, Duke ticked off a list of things to be grateful for in this entire mess.

First, no civilians were hit, injured, or killed.

Second, they apprehended the subject - or rather, Danny had. All HPD did was drag the still-cursing man out of his vehicle. He'd sustained minor injuries, though his car was definitely totaled. The maneuver to end the chase, though reckless, was performed flawlessly on the part of Detective Williams.

And third - -

A hand clapping him on the shoulder interrupted Duke's train of thought. "Hell of a thing, huh, Lukela?"

It was another sergeant - a younger one who clearly used the rank as a stepping stone to even greater heights. He wouldn't spend his career on the streets helping people like Duke chose to do, but would reach for loftier goals. Not that Duke had any particular problem with that, but he found it difficult to respect officers who only sought glory, rank, and a fatter paycheck. The best cops, he'd found, did this job to help people, and everything else was just an added bonus.

Like most spotlight chasers, this sergeant was enamoured with Five-0 - their immunity and means, their front-page antics, the high octane exhilaration that seemed to fill every day. Duke was one of the few outsiders who knew the cost of all that "excitement."

For example, Danny's hands didn't shake as he waved them around mid-rant when Duke first met him.

Today, however, Duke spotted that unmistakable tremble even as the blond argued with the paramedics.

"Yeah," he finally answered, though he didn't need to. Clearly, the guy's question had been rhetorical in nature, but Duke hated to pass up on an opportunity to teach. "It's a good thing no one got seriously hurt."

The younger officer predictably ignored the statement, staring at the wreckage with a glint of ambition in his eyes. "Man, I love seeing Five-0 back in action! They've been awfully quiet these past couple months, ya know? Maybe McGarrett's arrival today was enough to kick them back into gear."

"Their closure rate was the same," Duke pointed out dryly. "And I think the Governor was pleased with the decrease in explosions. Not everything is about the showy antics."

Not bothering to wait around for the sergeant's reply (who had cemented his identity as a buffoon in Duke's mind), he strode over to Danny's car. From the looks of things, it would need significant bodywork and Duke briefly wondered if the detective would give up and purchase a new car again. The front of the car was crunched like a soda can, the interior of the cab littered with shattered glass, twisted metal, and deflating airbags.

Wincing, Duke noted the reddish-brown smears of dried blood liberally staining the glass, steering wheel airbag, and seat. As he looked over the destruction, Duke knew with every bone in his body that Danny had gotten lucky once more.

- - Third on his list of things to be grateful for, Danny was still breathing.

Better yet, the loudmouthed detective was conscious and still berating all who dared to enter his sphere of malcontent. Though most would see that and steer clear, Duke allowed himself a small smile and approached the hurricane.

"Been through the wars again, Danny?" he interrupted the detective mid-rant. Both EMTs shot him grateful looks, which he subtly acknowledged, as Danny turned his attention toward the older sergeant.

"Finally, someone with some sense!" Danny folded his hands in a pleading motion. "I gotta get to the airport, but these jokers won't let me leave! Will you please tell these two that I'm fine and that I don't need to go to the hospital?"

"Does he need to go to the hospital?"

"Definitely not," the blond growled, his death stare dialed to 11.

Ignoring him, Duke raised an eyebrow at the two hapless medics. With someone else present, the senior medic regained some equilibrium and answered firmly, "It isn't a pressing need, but I would certainly recommend it."

"What's his condition?"

"His condition is that he is sitting right here and can hear you!"

With the longsuffering eyeroll of a man well versed in Danny Williams, the senior medic ignored the indignant comment. "Sir, do I have permission to share your medical information with - -"

"Sure, why not." Danny's hand flopped limply in Duke's direction as he gingerly leaned back against the reclined gurney. "So long as he swears not to call and inform anyone of anything he's about to hear."

"Of course, Danny," Duke agreed sincerely. Baby steps, he reminded himself. Besides, the last thing the rest of Five-0 wanted to hear on a joyous occasion like today was news of Danny back in a hospital bed.

As Danny visibly zoned out, the junior medic probed the rather large cut on his temple while the senior medic began listing off injuries. "As you can see, Detective Williams sustained multiple lacerations in the crash. Most are relatively minor, but this one on his head definitely needs to be looked at and stitched shut. Possible concussion, though he managed to avoid whiplash somehow."

"Lucky me," Danny cut in dryly, still staring straight ahead.

"On top of that," the medic continued, "he sustained some minor chest trauma. Contusions from the seatbelt, maybe some cracked ribs. He should probably get x-rays for his chest and a CT scan for his head."

Duke nodded sagely, both relief and concern swimming in his chest. "Anything else?"

For the first time, the medic hesitated. Throwing a guarded look back at the blond, his voice dropped. "Look, it's not really my place to say anything, but these injuries aren't the main reason Detective Williams needs to see a doctor. He appears malnourished - -"

"I'm gonna stop you right there." Danny sat up, intense defensiveness radiating from his posture as he cut the medic off. "What my friend here meant to say was that I'm a little banged up, but ultimately okay. And he was about to let me leave so I can get to the freakin' airport where my best friend's flight lands in -" He glanced at his watch. "- five minutes. So we're all good here, right?"

Battling back his bubbling trepidation, Duke eyed Danny with no small amount of scrutiny. Despite Danny's attempts to hide it, the experienced sergeant's eyes took in his sallow face accented by jutting cheekbones, pale complexion, exhausted posture laced with pain, and the dark circles under his eyes. All these things told Duke to tie Danny to the gurney and escort the ambulance to the nearest hospital.

But the pleading glint in Danny's eyes averted Duke's instinctual reaction. With a world-weary sigh, he nodded at the dumbfounded paramedics. "He'll be alright, I'll make sure of it. Just give him the necessary paperwork and we'll be on our way."

Judging from the incredulous looks on the medics' faces, the decision deviated far from a wise course of action. Hell, it tiptoed the border of sanity, but that seemed to be Five-0's area of expertise. From his first interaction with the intrepid task force, Duke learned his place in the circle of life.

Observe, advocate, help when he could, and stay out of their way when he couldn't. This situation fell into that final category. Delivering the stubborn haole to his equally-stubborn team would have to be enough.

So he waited patiently as Danny signed the paperwork denying treatment, then steered the man towards his own squad car. "Airport?" he asked.

The detective gave him a grateful smile. "Please."

He gingerly lowered himself into the passenger's seat, supporting his ribs with one arm before slumping into the upholstery with a sigh. Wasting no time gawking, Duke started the car and sped off in the direction of the airport.

They rode in silence for a couple minutes, Duke focusing on navigating the heavily congested roads while Danny stared out the side window. Tension radiated off the other man's posture - hands clenching and unclenching in nervous energy - and Duke noticed him repeatedly checking the clock on the dash.

That last action had Duke hiding a smile. Danny was like a kid on his way to a birthday party, radiating anxious excitement just as clearly as a toddler bouncing up and down in their seat. Though innocence radiated from the barely-concealed emotion, the sentiment behind it was anything but simple.

Yes, Duke mused, the impending reunion would be difficult. Messy, even. Raw and emotional at the very least.

Before that fateful case three months ago, Steve and Danny were a package deal. Closer than brothers, you never got one without the other. Seeing Danny alone over the past months felt as unnatural as a prosthetic replacing a flesh-and-blood limb.

"Thank you. Y'know, for giving me a ride."

Turning slightly as Danny unexpectedly broke the comfortable silence, Duke offered the man a broad smile. "Small kine, bruddah." He sped up, managing to beat a semi onto the on-ramp. "Your car was basically totaled. No way you drive yourself in that wreck."

Danny hummed in acknowledgement, checking the clock once more.

"Seriously, though. I'm glad you're okay." Risking a glance at his passenger, the sergeant frowned at the subtle clench of Danny's jaw. "It was a hell of a move, risky too. Not sure how you pulled it off."

Instead of putting the man at ease or earning a snarky comment about how Steve's lunacy was catching, Danny tensed further. The man visibly shut down, body language closing off in a way that Duke was used to seeing only in victims. No, this man sitting beside him wasn't the confident, snarky detective he was so used to seeing.

He wondered when a stranger - this fragile shell - replaced the man he considered ohana.

The lack of words also unsettled Duke; the blond detective was never one to waste an opportunity to speak on a topic - any topic. This abstinence of words was just as unnatural as Steve's absence.

"Did you call the team and tell them you were on your way?" he asked, more to break the silence than anything else. "I hate to break it to you, but it's going to be awfully close. Traffic at this time of day is killer, brah, and they might need to stall him."

That got Danny's attention. He straightened in his seat, wincing as his ribs vehemently protested the movement. "My phone was busted in the crash. I had it up on the dashboard so I could talk to dispatch and it got thrown on impact."

"Well, I'd let you use mine, but it's in my back pocket." Duke shrugged. "I can pull over and grab it for you if you want."

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Danny shut him down in a tone that indicated the situation to be anything but fine. That word seemed to be Danny's favorite lie of the day. "Just step on it, will ya? Steve's already gonna freak when he sees this cut on my head, and I'd rather save Lou from getting tormented by an anxious SEAL when I don't show up at the airport."

Of course, that wasn't the real reason for Danny's haste in getting to the airport, but Duke complied nonetheless. Stepping on the gas, he prayed that they'd make it in time.

~H50~

Of all the arrival scenarios Steve envisioned, he wasn't expecting a full-blown welcoming committee, complete with signs and noisemakers and the like. At the gate, no less! The small part of him that wasn't completely overwhelmed by the greeting wondered how they all got past security.

Ah, the Governor's secretary smiled at him from the front of the crowd. That made sense.

It took every ounce of his SEAL training to restrain his initial instinct to bolt back to safe anonymity of the plane's interior. Instead, he managed to muster up a smile and small wave at the horde of well-wishers, Kono cackling at his back.

"See?" she gleefully half-shouted in his ear. "I told you!"

"You're so dead, Kalakaua," Steve growled through the fakest smile he could possibly muster. "What part of 'I just want to sleep' did you not understand?"

Brushing past him, the prodigal member of Five-0 winked. "Oh, I had nothing to do with this… except for a few text updates on when the plane would arrive and our gate number. But everything else is all on these guys."

Steve followed her gesture, and his cheap imitation of a smile relaxed into a genuine expression of joy.

Lou grinned proudly. Junior whistled, his eyes sparkling with merriment. Tani jumped up and down like an excited schoolgirl, and beside her, Quinn clapped delightedly. Adam looked on with that rare smile that made his eyes practically disappear.

His team. His friends. His ohana.

Oh Lord, that was his ohana! He didn't realize he'd froze in place until Kono nudged him forward.

Stumbling a bit, he barely had time to drop his bag before Tani (of course, who else did he expect?) launched herself at him. She squeezed him so tightly that he wondered if his ribs were audibly creaking or that was just his imagination.

He decided he didn't care as he squeezed back just as tightly.

Tani babbled something in his ear, but Steve missed all of it as the rush of pure joy drowned out everything around him. Eventually, the young woman released him, only for Junior to throw himself into Steve's newly vacated arms. There was nothing dignified about this embrace - and certainly not a typical greeting of two distinguished former Navy SEALS - but Steve wouldn't trade this moment for the world.

And if a little damp spot blossomed on his shoulder, well, he pretended not to notice.

After releasing Junior from the hug (which lasted far too long to be called a mere 'hug'), the rest of his team lined up for their own emotional greeting. After draping a lei around his neck, Quinn offered an embrace that was strong, short, and sweet with no shortage of affection for a man she'd known for a little over a year. Adam gripped his hand and yanked him into what he once heard Grace refer to as a 'bro hug,' slapping his back with no small amount of enthusiasm. And Lou, in typical fashion, sauntered up to him and gathered him into his trademark octopus-arm dad hugs.

"I missed you, man," the former SWAT captain drawled, his tone the complete opposite of the last time they'd embraced just before Steve left. He partially released Steve, gripping his biceps and examining him with a critical eye. "You look good, Steve."

"You too." And Steve meant it. Despite being the oldest guy on the team, Lou still carried himself like a man ten years his junior. Plus, that wide smile was like a lethal weapon of joy, utterly contagious to all who witnessed it.

Lou had two smiles, and both were equally dangerous. The first one, the smile gracing his face, was the one he got right before he destroyed a solemn atmosphere with one of his corny dad jokes. And the second… well, you only ever saw the second if you pissed Lou off. It was the last sight of many perps before Lou shot them in the face. Danny called it his shark smile - all teeth with dead eyes right above it.

Speaking of Danny…

Steve looked expectantly past Lou's shoulder, expecting to see his partner standing there watching him with that small, warm smile he only shared with three people. Excitement - and a touch of nervousness - rose in him at the anticipation of greeting the man he considered to be his brother after three long months apart.

But instead of Danny rocking back and forth on his heels waiting for his turn to greet Hawaii's prodigal son, Steve's search resulted in only a mass of cheerful strangers still clapping for his return.

Just like that, Steve's stomach dropped.

Danny didn't come.

Disappointment and no small amount of concern over his partner's absence dimmed the joy that swelled inside him when he first glimpsed his team. He tried not to show it, but Lou easily saw through his lousy facade.

"Danny's on his way, Steve, but he got held up. There were some loose ends from our last case that he wanted to wrap up before he came over."

"Loose ends?" Steve demanded, eyes hardening to stare down his teammate. "Last time we talked, you said he was barely cleared for half-days of desk duty!"

Lou shrugged, effectively shaking off Steve's spasming grip. "Steve, relax. Man, I can see that little vein in your forehead. Take a breather, alright? Your boy is fine, nothing's wrong. Something minor popped up and he's taking care of it and I swear it's not anything strenuous." Lou grinned, though it was less bright than before. "He's probably waiting down at baggage claim right now bitching at everyone who passes by about the stupidity of leis. You know how he feels about wearing flowers."

That comment drew chuckles from the rest of the team, and Steve forced himself to relax. Given how protective Five-0 was when one of their own was injured, there's no way Danny could possibly get himself into any trouble. He was just running late, like Lou said. Only Danny could possibly manage to be late to pick up a friend at the airport.

And Lou's promise that Danny was coming (i.e. that Danny wasn't avoiding him or hiding from him) eased the rest of Steve's fears, though his disappointment remained.

"We better get going," Tani piped up. "We still have several stops to make before we get to the food-and-party part, and I'm absolutely famished. I could probably eat an entire cow right now."

"Yeah, she's not kidding." Junior deadpanned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hangry Tani is everyone's worst nightmare, and I pity the poor person who gets between her and a buffet line."

Tani smacked him on the arm, earning a yelp from her boyfriend and laughter from everyone else.

"Tani, you act like you ain't been around for any of these plans." Rolling his eyes, Lou jabbed a finger in Steve's direction. "You, sir, have somehow managed to mobilize the entire island. I got Renee, Kamekona, Flippa, Junior's parents, and Koa back at my place cooking the biggest dinner you've ever seen in your entire life. 'Course half the island is showing up to eat it, but I'll make sure no one starts in on it until after we finish everything."

Feeling about ten steps behind in the conversation and more than a little sleep deprived, Steve held up both hands in a universal 'stop' motion. "Wait - - everything? What's going on?" he asked.

At his question, the Governor's secretary stepped away from the quieting mass of cops, government aids, and more that Steve failed to recognize. "Commander McGarrett, Hawaii owes you a great deal for your many years of service to the island and her people. You've been dearly missed these past three months. Upon learning of your return, the Governor has planned a ceremony to honor you for all you've done."

A cacophony of whoops, hoots, and cheers rose from the crowd, earning glares from other travellers. As one, the mass of people headed off towards baggage claim, and Steve found himself carried along with it. In the end, he wound up beside Kono towards the back of the throng.

"Looks like it's gonna be awhile before you get that nap," she joked.

"Tell me about it." Steve sighed. "They mean well, but I'm not sure how long I'm gonna be able to stay upright for all this. Not to mention I don't especially like being paraded in front of people."

"That's what you get for being Hawaii's homegrown hero."

Steve shrugged, saying nothing, as they waded through the crowded terminal towards baggage claim. The praise - even teasingly given - made him a little uncomfortable, especially given how massively he'd screwed up the Daiyu Mei case. In fact, all of his success at Five-0 was made possible entirely because of the team surrounding him.

He said as much to Kono, who chuckled. "Is this you trying to get me to stay again?"

"No, not at all. But if it was, could you blame me?"

Kono tilted her head towards the rest of Five-0 leading the way. "You've built a good team, Steve. Tani, Junior, and Quinn all seem like good, capable people."

Watching his team, Steve nodded. "They're all great. Plus there's another guy named Lincoln Cole, ex-Marine. He's going through the Police Academy right now and will join the team as soon as he's done."

"Sounds like Hawaii has plenty of protectors."

"Sure," Steve agreed easily, offering her a small, genuine smile, "but I still miss the good old days. Y'know, with you, me, Chin, and Danny against the world. Now, Danny and I are the only ones left."

And if I'd been a minute later, it would've just been me.

As though Kono could read his mind (and he wouldn't be surprised if she could), the former surfer rubbed his shoulder in commiseration. "He's gonna be thrilled to see you, Steve. Poor guy had to go three whole months without his verbal-sparring partner."

Laughing, Steve allowed himself to get excited as they neared the baggage claim area. Given the welcoming committee and subsequent greeting time, most of the area was fairly clear of other arrivals. While most of the crowd headed for the doors, Five-0 and the two new arrivals waited by the carousel for their suitcases to cycle around.

Eagerly scanning the area, Steve's shoulders slumped when he found no sign of his elusive partner. Glancing over at Lou, he watched as the man frowned, pulled out his phone, and dialled a number.

"Uh, Steve?" Kono's voice drew his attention away from the Captain. "We have a slight problem."

By 'slight problem', Kono meant 'no luggage.' They checked the entire carousel and area around it, but Steve's and Kono's bags were nowhere to be found. After talking to the attendant, they discovered that their luggage had been accidentally loaded on the flight departing directly after them - a flight that wasn't due to land for another hour.

"Damn it!" Lou fisted his forehead. "We're supposed to be over at the Governor's mansion as soon as possible for the ceremony. She's gonna be pissed if we make her wait an hour."

"Or," Kono piped up, "you guys could head over and I'll wait here. I'll grab Steve's luggage when I get mine and I'll drop it off at his house later this week."

"It's alright, Kono. I can wait." Steve insisted. "And if Danny shows up, I'm sure he'd give me a ride to the Governor's mansion."

"Actually, we need to get over there now. She's got the press there and everything, so we can't afford to be late. She is our boss and all." Lou waved his phone, the time prominently displayed on it. "Any chance you've got some clean clothes in that carry-on? You're gonna have to change on the way."

Shaking his head, Steve shoved his frustration and weariness to the back of his mind. "Nothing appropriate for an official ceremony. In my defense, I didn't think I was going to get paraded in front of the press the second we landed."

Adam stepped up. "We can stop at my place and grab some clothes - it's on the way to the Governor's. You and I are about the same size."

"That'll work," Lou cut in before Steve could respond. "Tani, we'll meet you, Junior, and Quinn there, alright?"

With everyone heading for the doors, Steve hesitated. "You sure you're good with this, Kono?"

Grinning, his former teammate nodded. "Not a problem, Steve. I can finish that podcast episode I started on the plane and process being back before I'm surrounded by aunts, uncles, and cousins. We'll catch up later this week, okay?"

"Sounds good." Still, Steve didn't move to follow his team, scanning the empty baggage area one last time with flickering hope.

Still no sign of Danny.

"You okay?"

Shaking off his trepidation, Steve gave Kono a tiny smile. "Yeah… just overwhelmed, I guess. And I kinda was hoping to see Danny. I gotta talk to him. Set things right."

Kono strode over and wrapped him up in a gentle hug. "You'll get your chance, don't worry. Danny's just waiting for the right moment to make his dramatic entrance." That made Steve laugh, and she released him. "Welina mai ka home, boss. He mea maikaʻi ke ʻike aku iā ʻoe. "

Shouldering his backpack, Steve gave her his customary farewell shaka. "It was good to see you too, kaikaina."

With that, he walked out the doors into the Hawaiian sunlight and breathed in the scent of the island. It was so familiar - like a gentle, welcoming caress against his face - that he couldn't help but stop, close his eyes, and just inhale it all.

Welina mai ka home, Kono's voice whispered in the wind. Welcome home.

"Not home yet," he murmured back. The key element was still missing.

Then he heard the all-too-familiar honk of Lou's SUV, and with one last look around, he climbed inside.

~H50~

As Duke pulled up to the pick-up area, Danny unbuckled his seatbelt and hid a wince. Considering he was just in a car accident, he actually didn't feel too bad. Sure, his head was pounding and his ribs were on fire, but it didn't matter.

Steve was home. After three months, Danny would finally see his brother and tell him just how big of an idiot the SEAL had been. He'd ask his brother why he'd abandoned Danny when he needed Steve most.

(and Danny would apologize for his selfishness and not helping Steve in his search for peace. And he'd wish him all the best in his continuing quest, though all he wanted to do was plead for Steve to stay. He refused to stand in the way of Steve's needs.)

"Thanks for the lift, Duke," he said, climbing out of the car with his face solidly locked in a stoic expression. His chest burned - ribs on fire and the healing bullet wound throbbing - but he refused to allow it to dampen his growing excitement. "Do me a favor and don't tell the team about that little incident with the car, alright? I'll tell them once things have settled down with Steve and everything."

Though skeptical of Danny's request, Duke nodded. "Sure thing, Danny. Take care of yourself, okay, brah? And tell Steve I said aloha."

"Will do."

Danny watched Duke drive away, completely unaware of Lou's black SUV just in view on the entrance ramp. Instead, he moved as quickly as he could to the doors, excited to finally see someone already long gone.

Chapter Text

Rushing down the H1, Steve breathed in the familiarity of the islands.

He remembered feeling this way - though to a much larger extent - when he returned to Hawaii to bury his father. Everything he saw and heard and smelled brought back memories that seemed both a thousand years old and yesterday somehow. Many things hadn't changed at all, but that similarity twisted up his guts in all the wrong ways. And the things that were different… well, those were like a fist cracking against his nose.

Later, he'd realized those feelings were actually because Steve had changed so much. Danny called it 'era whiplash' when Steve confided in him. He wasn't the same scrawny kid who'd been put on a plane; he was older, wiser, and a damned Navy SEAL when he returned. An entirely different person, one might say. Seeing all the places that he used to know as that different person felt disorienting, like someone coming into a house and moving everything an inch to the left.

It wasn't all bad, just… weird.

This time, it wasn't quite as drastic, but it still felt odd. He had learned a lot on his travels - about himself, those he cared about, and his place in it all. They transformed him too. He wasn't the commander the island knew him as anymore. Now, he was just Steve. Driving along highways where he used to chase perps and passing Aloha Stadium where he barely landed that helicopter gave him that 'era whiplash' Danny so aptly coined.

If he focused hard enough, he could hear the squealing tires, the rat-tat-tat of guns firing, the screams…

"So, how's Eddie? How's my dog?" Steve quickly asked, banishing the phantom sensations from his mind.

Lou glanced over from the driver's seat, a small smile still creasing his face. Clearly, the man was overjoyed to have the former SEAL back on the island.

"He's doin' great. Missing you, obviously, but he's living the dream with Junior and Tani. Though Tani says they're gonna have to get a bigger place to accommodate adding a dog to their already crowded space." Chuckling, he shook his head. "Gotta say, I agree with her. That place is a shoebox, man."

"Should've seen Danny's old place." Steve shuddered. "The guy's claustrophobic and yet he lived in an apartment where I couldn't take a full step without hitting a wall."

Then something Lou said caught up to Steve, and the SEAL's spine stiffened. "Wait, Lou. Junior moved in with Tani and took Eddie with him?"

"Uh, yeah." Lou side-eyed him, his tone slow and deliberate. "We weren't just gonna leave Eddie alone in your house. I mean, he's a great dog, but he still needs some human help."

"But what about Danno?"

Lou's mouth formed an 'oh,' and the older man rubbed his eyes. "Danny moved outta your place like two days after you left. I thought he told you."

Mind whirling through the implications of that new information, Steve shook his head slowly. "No, he failed to mention it. Kinda get the feeling there's a lot he's not telling me."

Ah, now that hit a nerve. Despite the numerous admirable qualities of Lou Grover, the man was terrible at bluffing. He rivalled Steve for the title of 'Worst Poker Player' in the Five-0 ohana. And right now, his face had that look he got when he tried to act nonchalantly.

Which only worried Steve further.

Before he could ask, however, Lou changed the subject. "So how was the trip? See anything interesting?"

"Did I see anything interesting? You make it sound like I was a college student on spring break! Yeah, Lou, I saw interesting stuff." Steve smirked. "I made a whole slideshow of pictures that I'm gonna make everyone watch."

Lou laughed - actually threw back his head and belly laughed at the snarky comment - and Steve couldn't help but join him. He told a few funny stories of his time seeing the world, and Lou shared some of the more light-hearted antics of Five-0. The conversation eased the oddness he'd noted either and the nerves regarding all he had to do and decide.

They were getting close to Adam's apartment when Lou finally asked the question Steve had been dreading. "So," he began, voice falsely light, "you gonna stick around for awhile?"

And just like that, the blissful mood came crashing back down.

"I don't know." Steve sighed. "I've got some stuff to work through, and I don't know if Hawaii can be home after all that's happened."

Lou nodded slowly. "I get that. But you might want to talk to your boy before making any decisions. He deserves that much." Nudging Steve's arm, he smiled once more. "But we can talk about that later. Tonight, we got a whole bunch of people excited to see you and a lot of stuff to do."

"Yeah, about that…" Rubbing the back of his head, Steve struggled to think of a way to convey his weariness in a polite, diplomatic manner. In the end, he failed. "Look, I'm really grateful for you guys doing all this for me, but I'm beat. I don't even know what time zone my internal clock is on. Honestly, I just wanted to see everyone, then go home and sleep for a week."

"Well, looks like that SEAL training is gonna be put to good use," Lou teased. "But I got your back, man. You start falling asleep, I'll come up with an excuse and pull you out, alright?"

Steve nodded and leaned back in his seat. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

~H50~

It took more effort than Danny wanted to admit to keep his gait relaxed and even. In his defense, he'd never known anyone to walk away from a car accident completely pain-free. Still, he didn't want Steve to see him stooped over, walking gingerly and supporting busted ribs. No, Steve witnessed enough of that before he left, back when Danny needed help even getting out of bed.

Steve deserved better than Danny's pain.

So the blond strode confidently into the baggage area, ignoring how every step jolted his groaning ribs and sent another spike of pain through his forehead. Even his healing gunshot wound joined the fray, the deep ache radiating through his battered chest. All of it combined to form one cacophonous chorus of discomfort.

As his bad knee - reaggravated from the bad landing when he jumped down from the ceiling - twinged, Danny tried to remember the last day he hadn't been in pain. After a solid minute of scanning memories, he gave up with a frustrated sigh.

It didn't matter, he thought as he shoved the traitorous throbbing to the back of his mind. After an eternity (okay, three months, but it was an extremely long three months), Steve was finally back and Danny refused to let a couple of boo-boos ruin this moment. No, he refused to be a burden to Steve, not now or ever again.

Pain be damned because his partner - no, his brother - had come home, and Danny was less than a minute away from seeing him.

Quickening his steps, Danny reached the appropriate baggage carousel with a smile growing wider on his face and…

Froze.

There's no one here.

"What the hell?" he murmured, turning to check the digital sign listing flight numbers, arrival times, and baggage claim numbers.

Yup, Steve's flight arrived on time and this was the right carousel. Yet the area was devoid of travelers or waiting loved ones. And just like that, Danny's excitement and joy crumbled, leaving behind the all-too-familiar hollow husk where his heart used to be.

He'd missed Steve.

After this realization sank in, the occupants of Honolulu International Airport received a lengthy demonstration of different creative combinations of profanities. Normally, Danny would attempt to keep it somewhat quiet out of respect for others around him. But today, stranded at the airport with no cell phone while his best friend got further and further away, he quite frankly didn't give a - -

"Danny?"

That voice stopped his tirade in its tracks. Spinning around, he searched for the source until his eyes finally landed on a familiar figure lounging on a nearby bench.

"Kono? What the hell?"

Today must be a day for homecomings.

She rose and smirked at him, and he belatedly realized his jaw was hanging open. Hastily clamping it shut, he strode over to embrace his former teammate. "Damn, it's good to see you, rookie!" he said, wrapping her up in the best hug he could summon from his throbbing body.

"You too, haole." She returned the hug enthusiastically, and Danny couldn't help but grunt as his ribs protested the squeeze. "Though I assume you didn't come here to see me."

Danny chuckled and broke the embrace, the sight of his friend a balm that partially soothed the ache in his soul. "No, but maybe that's because I didn't know you were coming."

"I flew in for my cousin's wedding. Steve happened to be visiting me when I booked the flight last week and he offered to come back with me. Said it'd give us a chance to catch up." She tilted her head to the left. "Steve and his entourage just left, by the way, and Lou said something about an award ceremony at the Governor's Mansion. If you hurry, you can probably catch up with them."

Frustration welled up inside of the blond, the desire to put his fist through the nearest wall (or person; he wasn't picky at the moment) nearly overcame his flagging self-restraint. "I can't," he said, his voice tight. "I hitched a ride here. I'd grab a taxi, but the cost of a ride from here to the Mansion is ridiculous with traffic and everything." Sighing, he checked to make sure he still had his wallet. "Guess I don't got much of a choice though."

"Actually," Kono interrupted, her smile widening, "you could ride with me - that is, if you don't mind waiting another 45 minutes. My cousin dropped off my car in long-term parking last night, so I got wheels."

"45 minutes?"

"Yeah, the airline sent Steve and my luggage on a later flight by accident." She shrugged. "Told Steve I'd wait and grab his bags too so he could get on with the ceremony. I'm totally willing to drive you though as soon as they get here."

Danny weighed his options, the cost of a taxi versus waiting an additional 45 minutes. It'd save him money, he reasoned, and it'd give him a chance to catch up with Kono. They'd lost touch recently, especially given everything going on with Steve, and he missed her dearly. Besides, the Governor mentioned wanting to meet with Steve about the future of Five-0 after the ceremony, so Danny could probably meet his friend there.

That conversation could take awhile, he reasoned. Yeah, he could make it there before they left for Lou's.

"A free ride with great company like you?" he finally said. "How could I possibly refuse?"

And really, he realized, Kono's beaming smile made it even more worthwhile as it soothed his dried-out, cracking soul. The chance to soak in the presence of his old friends - his ohana - could not be ignored. It was like those rare sunny days during the dreary Jersey February, when every other day was filled with nothing but cold and dull browns and grays. Where you had to spend as much time outside absorbing the sun's rays for as long as possible before it dipped away beneath the horizon.

Danny craved the warm touch of his friends' light, and he needed to take it all in - - recharge as much as possible before they left him alone once more.

"You could call Steve, or the team." She offered her phone. "At least let them know where you are."

"Nah. I'd rather see him in person and talk to him then. Don't wanna waste our epic reunion by doing it over the phone."

Kono smirked. "Ah, I see. That's a smart tactical move. Harnessing the element of surprise is crucial for an op like this."

"Good Lord, Steve created a monster." Leaning against a nearby pillar, Danny mustered up a smirk of his own. Surprisingly, it didn't take as much effort as it had even an hour ago. "Your cousin's wedding, huh?" When his former teammate nodded, he continued, "So you're not sticking around?"

Shaking her head, Kono clearly was prepared for the question and answered teasingly. "No, not this time. What, has the legendary Five-0 task force become utterly ineffective since my absence?" she teased.

"No, you make better coffee than Lou. I'm startin' to get desperate for a decent brew."

"Ah, and here I thought you made me make the coffee because I was the rookie. Turns out you've been using me all this time? Unbelievable, Williams!" With a mock scowl on her face, Kono elbowed him in the ribs.

And Danny crumpled with a barely bitten-back cry of pain.

Now, normally Kono's bony elbow making contact with his ribcage was enough to earn a satisfying yelp. This time, however, the light tap resulted in a grunt as Danny's arms immediately rose to cradle his ribs. Blood roared in his ears as he panted through the reawakened fire that licked around his ribs and through his chest. Bent over in a futile attempt to ease the agony, he felt Kono step into his personal bubble.

Damn it.

"Danny? Are you okay?"

"Danny, hey, there you go. Alright, buddy, alright. You keep groaning, alright? C'mere, put your hand behind my head."

No, no, no, not right now! Danny blinked, gritting his teeth as the world phased in and out around him.

"I'm right here, alright? I need you to climb in! Get in, I'm right behind you!"

"Danny, what the hell? Talk to me!"

"Hey, I'm with you, buddy. You're okay."

No I'm not! he wanted to scream back.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped. As he opened his eyes, he found Kono's face awfully close to his. Her grip on his shoulder tightened and the worry in her eyes was enough to break the past's hold on him. Steve's frantic voice faded into the background, and Danny gulped in oxygen at a rapid pace.

Belatedly, he recognized the full-body tremor that seemed ever-present, possessing him at the worst possible moments. Kono must've noticed it too as she applied more pressure to his shoulder, as though her grip alone could steady the trembling man.

It took far too much effort for Danny to beat back the rising tide of pain and straighten, cold sweat beading on his brow from the exertion of controlling what refused to heed him. Kono's gaze - so warm and full of joy before - morphed to one of scrutiny and concern. Sighing internally, Danny attempted to deter her worried examination.

After all, he knew what she'd find. None of it was good, and he didn't feel like having the 'you need to take care of yourself' talk again.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." His raspy voice and weak smile did nothing to reassure her, and he inwardly cursed his eternal bad timing. "There was an incident with a fleeing perp and I'm just a little sore. Nothing to worry about, okay? I'm good."

"You're definitely not good! Danny, you almost collapsed and all I did was bump you with my elbow!" She glared at him. "And what the hell was that afterwards? You completely zoned out on me!"

Shrugging, the blond took a slight step back. "Believe it or not, your elbow hurts when you ram it into people. Sometimes I think you forget just how powerful you are, Kalakau."

"Don't deflect." The pathetic joke fell flat as the former surfer refused to allow him to retreat, her hand shooting out and grabbing Danny's wrist. "Lou said you were held up at the office! Is that what you were doing - - chasing a suspect? Did Lou know that?"

"I didn't exactly have much of a choice in the matter. And yeah, I told Lou."

"Does he know you're injured?"

"Whoa, eyyy! Who said anything about injuries? I'm just sore, Kono!"

Kono rolled her eyes, exasperation briefly overcoming worry as the dominant emotion. "C'mon, seriously? I have eyes, Danny. I can see the giant cut on your temple, one that's still smeared with fresh blood. Judging from your reaction to my love tap, I'd say your ribs are either bruised or cracked. You definitely got some kind of head injury, especially since you zoned out. So why don't you cut the crap and tell me what the hell happened?"

Silence.

Both Kono and Danny possessed no shortage of stubbornness, and both brought all they had to bear on the other. Staring each other down, each internally pleaded the other to yield.

But, in an uncharacteristic move, it was Danny who gave in first.

His body unwound with a pop and his shoulders slumped, suddenly feeling the full weight of his 44 years. This time, he held his ground when Kono stepped closer, though he refused to meet her gaze.

"Look, it's really not a big deal," he began. "I was on my way here to see Steve when he landed, but I saw our prime suspect's vehicle on the H1 a few cars ahead of me. It's not like I could turn a blind eye to that, y'know? So I tailed him, but he caught wind of me and tried to flee. Then… maybe I kinda T-boned him to end the chase."

"You crashed your car?"

"Not intentionally!" he hastily corrected, trying to quell the wrath of Kono. " I reacted a little slower on a turn than I should've. But no harm, no foul."

Kono rested her forehead in the palm of her free hand, her other hand still gripping Danny's wrist. "No foul? Are you kidding? Brah, that's so, so much worse. Steve's gonna flip his lid when he hears about this."

And that's when Danny's fiery temper, dormant for nearly three months, returned in all its eruptive glory.

See, ever since Steve had walked off the beach and left Danny biting back sobs in the chair, Danny hadn't been able to muster any emotion other than that suffocating numbness. Even anger, his oldest companion, abandoned him. When people asked him if he was mad at Steve, he honestly told them no - because he didn't feel anything at all. Sometimes he'd get split-second flashes of directionless ire, like lightning on a hot, humid summer night. There for a moment, gone the next.

But now, as rage flooded his veins, part of him wondered what unlocked the dam. Another part of him - small, barely heard over the din - screamed at him to stop, that Kono didn't do anything to deserve this impending outburst. However, it was drowned out by the crackling energy of fury, and he couldn't help but like it.

After so long feeling numb, this was like a shot of heroin for a recovering junkie.

"Listen to me, alright? Steve," he began, his voice dangerously low and even, "does not get to flip a lid or care or say anything about this. Okay? He lost that right the second he left me black and blue on the beach three months ago." His voice rose, uncontrolled anger as hot as blue flames pouring off his tongue. "I'm not gonna burden him anymore, okay? And if he thinks he can just waltz back in here and pretend to care about my freakin' well-being, I swear I'll break every single bone in his body!"

Any ordinary human-being with an ounce of self-preservation would flee from Danny Williams when they heard this tone. It pulled back the curtain and showed just how dangerous the short, oft-underestimated detective was.

But Kono Kalakaua, Five-0's protégé, was far from ordinary.

She fearlessly stood in the storm of Danny's wrath, brown eyes boring into crackling blue. Her hand still cradled his wrist just below the pink shackle scar from where unforgiving metal bit into sensitive skin as he hung suspended from the ceiling. Her steady grip sharply contrasted with the tremor of his fists. The touch of her fingers against scarred skin made his skin prickle uncomfortably, like a thousand fire ants making a home in his flesh. And instead of taking a step back, she edged in closer.

"If that's really how you feel," she matched his quiet tone, "then why did you rush here to see him?"

Silence. Heaving gasps threatening to shatter Danny's ribs contrasted with Kono's calm breaths.

It took a few seconds for the implications of her statement to sink in, to penetrate the smoke of fury flooding his mind. But when it did, it smashed into him that time Joey Porter beaned Danny in the head with an 85 mph fastball in the high school championship game.

All the anger rushed out of him so quickly that he wondered if his ears would pop from the pressure change. As the numbness took over once more, he sank onto the bench Kono sat on when he first saw her. Weariness washed over him in a tidal wave of torpor, slumping his shoulders against its assault. Scrubbing a hand across his face, he settled into his body's new normal he couldn't bring himself to embrace.

Kono sat beside him, finally releasing his wrist. They sat in silence for a while, until the former Five-0 member asked, "You okay?"

Huffing a laugh that held no humor at all, Danny didn't bother to answer. She already knew, so why waste his breath lying? "Sorry," he settled on. "You didn't deserve that."

"And Steve does?" she gently prodded.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't really care anymore." He truly didn't. The apathy was back, stifling the anger and the anticipation of seeing his best friend once more.

That only increased the intensity of her stare, ignoring injuries and looking for the signs that pointed to problems plaguing him for far longer. Clearly, she had no trouble spotting the bruise-like crescents under his eyes or the bunching of his shirt where it hung too loosely off his frame. Physical manifestations of the hollow fissure within him.

"When's the last time you ate? Or slept the whole night through?"

"Earlier." he lied vaguely, rallying for another grin. "You know how much I love malasadas, right? Don't worry about me, babe. I got it all under control. Let's change the subject, huh? How long are you gonna be on the island?"

Skeptical, Kono acquiesced and accepted the new direction. "Not long, only five days. Lou invited me to Steve's Welcome Back barbeque tonight, but I want to spend as much time with my family before I leave again. There's just not enough time, y'know?"

Now that was something Danny totally understood.

"You talk to Adam at all?"

This time, it was Kono's turn to wince and skirt the edges of the topic. "Yeah." She picked at the hem of her shirt. "We're getting lunch at some point before I fly out. I'm just not really sure how to navigate all this yet, and I don't think he does either."

Danny nodded, recalling the intricacies of a divorced relationship. "Well, at least you two aren't hostile," he pointed out. "Rachel and I couldn't even have civilized conversations… in fact, we still don't." He chuckled, and Kono gave him a tiny smile. "Look, you both made choices and what's done is done. Doesn't mean what you had wasn't real, or that you can't figure out a new path for your relationship."

Shrugging, Kono avoided eye contact with the haole. "I guess," she halfheartedly said.

Sensing her discomfort, Danny once again changed the subject and asked about her travels. They chatted until the bags came about light topics - family, friends, swapping funny cop stories. It felt so good that Danny nearly forgot about the car chase and explosive incident with the former surfer. As they walked out to the car (Kono refused to let him carry any of the bags, citing his injuries), the anticipation of seeing Steve lumped in the back of his throat once more.

Kono seemed to sense it. "He's excited to see you, you know. Pretty sure you came up at least once every time we talked," she said, abruptly changing the topic as they sped down the H1. "He missed you a lot."

"And you know this how?"

"How could you not? You're his best friend, Danny, his brother, even. He loves you." A note of incredulousness entered her voice.

Danny hummed a neutral note.

That drew her intense, scrutinizing stare to bear once more. "Do you want to see him?" she asked hesitantly. "This might not be what you need right now."

He ignored her second statement, choosing to focus on her first. "Yes," he answered firmly. "Can you just forget the little outburst in the airport? I really do want to see him."

"Are you sure?" Chewing her bottom lip - Kono's obvious tell for when she was about to say something others wouldn't like - she hesitated before sighing. "Look, Danny, no one would blame you for feeling a little… torn about Steve's return. I can just drop you off at his place and you can sort all this out without - -"

"No." Danny's resolve was unyielding, certainty oozing from every syllable. "I need this."

Kono beamed, and he couldn't help but smile back. "Well then, let's try to make it before that ceremony ends," she declared, nailing the accelerator.

Chapter Text

Throughout his many years of service - both in the military and as the head of Five-0 - Steve had been forced to sit through many award ceremonies. During this time, he discovered that these ceremonies meant to honor brave men and women for their heroism were all too often used to advance some higher-up's agenda. The honoree became a puppet in politicians' games.

He didn't particularly like it, but he stayed silent about it and endured his moments where they paraded him before the press. It was still a tremendous honor, he knew, one he humbly accepted on behalf of all those who came before him who were far more worthy. Like his grandfather, his father, Freddy, Joe, and all the men he served beside who gave their lives. All the medals in the world wouldn't be enough for him to live up to their legacy.

So when he received a medal of honor, he remembered his grandfather. When he donned his dress blues, he reflected on Freddy and other fallen brothers-in-arms. And when the Governor sang the praises of her prized Five-0 team, he honored his father. All the political posing faded to the back of his mind in the face of their sacrifices.

However, today the only thing Steve reminisced about as the Governor went on and on about his "many years of dedicated sacrificial service to this island" was his bed.

Briefly, he wondered who came up with the genius idea to have this thing one freakin' hour after he arrived from an entire day of traveling. Whoever it was, Steve definitely wanted to have words with them.

Damn it all, he'd trade his soul for twelve uninterrupted hours of sleep on his own damned mattress with familiar pillows and sheets. Yet here he was, standing in perfect parade rest while reporters snapped photos and the Governor rambled on about this and that. Steve wasn't sure what her talking point was anymore - he'd zoned out a long time ago. Only muscle memory from years of military training kept him looking somewhat stoic.

Stoic, yeah, that was a joke. How dignified could he possibly look standing in borrowed clothes still smelling like an airplane? He would need a Danny-length shower in order to even feel clean again, and he sincerely hoped he didn't look as gross as he felt. If so, Adam might not want his borrowed clothes back.

Lips twitching, he scanned the sea of faces once again and sighed. Still no sign of Danny.

Frankly, Steve was starting to get a little concerned. He'd tried calling his partner multiple times en route to the ceremony, but they all went straight to voicemail. Likewise, he caught Lou muttering under his breath angrily with his phone pressed to his ear several times during the ride, but the Chicago native refused to tell him anything.

The fear that Danny didn't want to see him at all - that the man he considered to be his brother was avoiding the SEAL - reared its ugly head several times. Each time it did, he beat his back with loyal ferocity. His team, though acting strangely every time he mentioned Danny, made it abundantly clear that Danny was eager to see him.

When he'd hesitantly told Lou of his uncertainty, the older man laughed in his face. "Steve," he'd said between giggles, "Danny's been bouncing off the walls since we found out you were comin' back! I had to ban him from caffeine, that's how bad it was. Trust me, he's on his way and you two can argue 'til you're blue in the face."

Enthusiastic applause shattered his musings and brought him crashing back to the present moment. The Governor must've finally finished her ridiculously long speech, and he still had no idea what the hell this was all about. Or what he was supposed to do now.

Damn, I'm exhausted.

Managing a grin that appeared somewhat genuine, the former SEAL breathed a sigh of relief as the Governor towards him with a rather large glass plaque - one of those fancy things he often saw in lawyers' offices. Good, he didn't need to do anything but shake her hand and smile for the cameras. As lens shutters clicked and snapped, he glanced down at the inscription on the plaque.

This Award is present to Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett

Puʻuwai wiwo ʻole o Hawaiʻi

for exemplary acts of Heroism and Sacrifice in his 10 Years of Service to Hawai'i and her people

Mahalo nui loa iā 'oe

And beneath the words, the Five-0 seal was embossed in all its glory.

"You deserve this, Commander," the Governor murmured, still beaming for the cameras.

Steve swallowed hard, the smile painted on his face cracked as a ball of lead settled in his stomach. The plaque grew heavier in his hand, a burden he dared not drop.

Exemplary acts of heroism? Steve scoffed at himself. The only thing I ever did was put the people I love in danger. Like Danny said, I got people killed for my vendetta.

No, he refused to think about that right now. Finding his teammates in the crowd, he breathed in their joy and pushed the looming consternation aside.

Then the Governor prodded him towards the podium, and the former SEAL inwardly cursed. He never liked addressing the press, and he liked it even less when he was sleep deprived and preoccupied with other things. Hell, he missed the Governor's entire speech, so what on God's green earth was he supposed to say?

Better think of something quick, Steven, his internal voice mocked - a voice that sounded a lot like Danny. God forbid these people figure out what a Neanderthal you are.

Blinking, he set the plaque down on the podium and cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks so much for coming out today," Steve began, fixing his eyes on his teammates. "I would give a rousing acceptance speech, but I've been cooped up in an airplane all day and my brain hasn't quite caught up to island time yet."

That earned some chuckles from the crowd. Glancing down at the plaque, he felt the weight he'd previously banished rise once more. "That being said, I'm truly honored. I grew up on this island and consider all its people as members of my extended ohana. It's a privilege to protect them and their homes. Thank you all."

Steve waved and stepped back to thunderous applause, heat rising to his cheeks at all the attention. Following the Governor off the platform, he ignored the questions lobbed his way.

"Commander, how long will you be on the island?"

"Will you start back at Five-0 soon?"

"Why did you leave?"

"What will this new chapter in the story of Five-0 look like?"

If only he knew the answers.

~H50~

"You've reached Detective Williams, leave - -"

Growling in frustration, Lou slammed the 'End Call' button. "Seriously, Williams? Where the hell are you?"

"Still no word from Danny?"

The Chicago native looked up and met the concerned gaze of Adam Noshimuri. Shrugging, Lou aimed for a casual, care-free tone. "Nothing, but you know Danny."

"Yeah, I do." Adam's eyes crinkled, wrinkles creasing across his forehead in an all-too-telling sign of concern. "And because I know him, I know that something's probably wrong."

Damn it.

He didn't voice the expletive, choosing a cautious query instead. After all, Danny explicitly told him not to mention the reason for his delay and Lou was more than a little afraid to cross the fiery detective. "What makes you think that?"

"C'mon, Lou. You really think Danny would miss this? He's been a bundle of nervous anticipation since we got word of Steve's plans to come back to Hawaii. You can't tell me that his absence is intentional."

Though Adam's tone is incredulous, the Oriental man's gaze dissected Lou's facial expression in an attempt to glean some information from it. Keeping his body language carefully neutral, Lou leaned back against the door of his sedan and sighed. "I'd answer that, man, but I'm just as confused as you are. I thought Danny would be here by now."

Adam stiffened, automatically taking a step closer to the Chicago native. "Do you know what's going on? Is Danny in trouble?" Glancing over his shoulder, the younger man lowered his voice. "Or does it have something to do with Steve?"

Rubbing the back of his neck - a habit betraying his stress to those around him - Lou gave up the charade. "Look, man, I have no idea what's going through Danny's head today. The man's been through the ringer - they both have - and I'd be lying if I said he was unaffected by all this."

"So it's Steve, then?" Adam's shoulders slumped, and his voice dropped even further. "You think Danny's having second thoughts about seeing him?"

Lou shook his head. "I'm not saying that. All I know is that Danny spotted our suspect on the H1 when he was going to the airport to meet Steve. And since he's a stubborn idiot, he decided to tail the scumbag. Haven't been able to get in touch with him since."

If anything, Lou's attempt at reassurance only agitated Adam further. Cringing as the former Yakuza member's hands clenched into fists, Lou knew the same slideshow of scenarios playing on repeat in his own mind now haunted Adam's thoughts. So many things could go wrong - many of which Danny himself might've initiated. The Jersey native's mental state had been… worrisome since Steve left, and Lou couldn't help but wonder how Steve's arrival affected it.

Clearly, Adam shared his concern. "Let's not assume the worst, Lou."

Lou's bitten-off laugh held very little humor. "Which 'worst' are we talkin' about? The one where Danny gets himself killed chasing a suspect, or the one where he collapses because he's not eating or sleeping? Or how 'bout the one where he runs off and - -"

"He wouldn't. Not now."

Sighing, Lou conceded the point. He agreed with Adam's fervent denial, but he couldn't stop the grim thought from rising unbidden in his mind. Shaking off the image of Danny this morning in the office - his friend seriously underweight and pale from residual pain - from his mind, he refocused on Adam.

"I know. Still, I could see him running off and hiding out somewhere to avoid all this, especially if Steve plans to up and leave in a couple days. After everything that's happened, I wouldn't blame him one bit if he did."

Adam's attempt at a smile was a dismal failure. "Steve would hunt him down if Danny tried. We all would. He wouldn't last more than 24 hours before we dragged him back kicking and screaming."

The only sign of agreement Lou gave was a quiet chuff of laughter. Yet, that small sound spoke volumes regarding the loyalty and concern the Five-0 ohana had for one Detective Danny Williams.

Checking his watch, Adam squared his shoulders. "Look, if Danny somehow got himself killed chasing the perp, we'd already know about it. Chances are he's just running late or got stuck in traffic or caught the guy and is giving his statement. I'll go make some calls and see what I can find out, alright? And I'll stick around here in case he shows up. When Steve gets out of this meeting, you two can head on over to the party and we'll meet you there."

It was a solid plan, Lou admitted, but it had one major flaw. Steve never handled Danny's absence well, even when he knew where his partner was. With Danny MIA, Steve McGarrett became an unpredictable, unstoppable wild card. The last thing Lou wanted was a rogue Navy SEAL combing the island for a man who'd just gotten stuck in traffic. That was, of course, the best of a variety of bad scenarios, but the former Chicago cop refused to think about the others.

Glancing down the long driveway, Lou tried desperately to conjure up the all-too-familiar Camaro.

C'mon, Williams. Where the hell are you?

~H50~

Checking his watch, Steve barely stifled a yawn as the Governor's secretary finally motioned for him to enter the Governor's office. Not that it was a long wait - barely ten minutes - but he desperately wanted to get this over with and rejoin his ohana. All this official stuff had never been his strong point, and his jetlag and overall weariness made dealing with it all the more taxing.

As he entered the office, he shook off the persistent instinct to glance over his shoulder. He'd been in this office many times since the showdown with Gov. Jameson and Wo Fat, but his skin still prickled each time he walked through the door. Hair standing on end, he tamped down a shiver with all the discipline years as a SEAL endowed upon him.

Ten years later and I'm still not over it.

This moment - that fear embedded in his mind triggered by simply walking into this room - represented the reason he'd left Hawaii. Everywhere he looked, ghosts lurked. They stared back at him with vacant eyes. There was no spot where peace punctured the penumbra that seemed to eclipse everything good on this island.

How could he possibly explain to his ohana that, in the sunlight and beauty of the tropical paradise, all he saw was darkness?

A polite cough brought his attention back to the present where the current Governor had risen behind the desk to greet him. Grinning sheepishly, he quickly apologized for his lapse in attention and blamed it on jetlag and whatnot.

She waved it off in typical fashion. Though he hadn't interacted much with this particular Governor, he respected her. She gave Five-0 a long leash and turned a blind eye to much of their shenanigans. Yet, she managed to do this while still maintaining the integrity of her office and the law. Admirable qualities to be sure, and ones that Steve greatly appreciated as it made his job far easier.

"Welcome back, Commander," she said, moving around her desk to join him in a small grouping of chairs. Gesturing for him to sit, she too settled into the plush cushioning of an ornate chair. "I imagine you've heard that phrase quite a bit today."

"Yes, ma'am, but I don't mind. It's nice to know you're missed."

Chuckling, she folded her hands in her lap. "I imagine so. Trust me when I say this: you were very much missed. Five-0 performed admirably in your absence - on an equal level to before you left - but it lacked that unique fire your leadership brings."

And there it is.

Not that Steve doubted the purpose of this little powwow. As soon as the Governor pulled him aside, he knew with almost complete certainty that his return to Five-0 would be the topic of choice. Having that suspicion confirmed was a relief; now they could forgo the typical song and dance of political niceties.

"Well, Five-0 is a great team, ma'am. I'm only one member." He shrugged. "Just because I make the decisions doesn't mean I'm the reason we're successful."

Nodding, she conceded the point. "That's true. I admire each member of your team, Commander; you chose them well. Still, I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

It took a lot of effort not to roll his eyes at the comment - or rather, the intent behind the comment. Not one to tiptoe around an issue (especially when he was tired), he decided to cut through the small talk and get to the point. "All due respect, ma'am, but you didn't call me in here to compliment my abilities. What exactly do you want from me?"

To his surprise, she smiled. Dropping the 'official image,' she slouched a bit in her seat. "Straight to the point, I see. Sometimes I forget that you're not one for fancy-footing around a conversation. I believe your partner was the one who mentioned that your version of tact was a smoke grenade thrown through the window."

That brought a matching smile to his face. "Well, Danny is prone to exaggeration, but he's right in this case. So, how can I help you?"

"You came to me three months ago requesting an extended leave of absence from your duties as head of Five-0, which I granted." She shrugged. "Now you're back, and I'd like to know what your intentions are. Is your return permanent? When do you plan on coming back to work?"

As a headache threatened to permeate the lingering pleasure of seeing his ohana, he resisted the urge to snap at the Governor. Though he fully expected the questions - and she had every right to ask them - he'd hoped he would have more time to figure out the answers. And he desperately wanted to talk to Danny before making any official decisions.

Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "To be perfectly honest, I don't really know yet. I'm still figuring some things out."

"But you have some idea."

It was a statement, not a question, and Steve found himself nodding. "Yeah, I do. I have to talk to some people before I can say anything with certainty."

Though he gave a nonanswer, the Governor seemed to read his mind with relative ease. Either she already suspected his intentions or she was awfully perceptive. Probably a mix of both.

Eyes softening, she nodded. "You've served us well. I meant what I said in that ceremony, Steve; it wasn't all political posturing. You've done more for this island than any of us could ask for or imagine. We are grateful for that service, but you deserve to finally start doing things for yourself."

Not entirely sure how to respond to that, Steve simply bowed his head in thanks.

"I know you're not officially saying this yet, so I'll keep it under wraps. However, your former position at Five-0 is always open for you if you should change your mind." Rising from her seat, she went over to her desk and grabbed a notepad. "I know your team has a big barbeque set up in your honor, so I won't hold you up much longer. But I'd like to know what you think in terms of your team's structure should you decide to retire."

Frowning, Steve shifted in his seat. It was a reasonable question, but he wasn't entirely sure what she meant. "Okay, the structure should stay pretty much the same, right? With the addition of Quinn and Lincoln Cole - when he completes his training, that is - should have the team at full strength. There's no specific ranking other than 1IC and 2IC. Everything else kinda falls under seniority."

The Governor jotted down notes, then asked, "Who do you propose fills those positions?"

"Uh," Steve raised an eyebrow, "I mean, Lou Grover naturally fits into the 2IC position, but he's close to retirement too. You'd have to have a discussion with him and see who fits into that role when he leaves, but I think either Tani or Junior would do well there."

"And what about that lead spot?"

What the hell?

"That would go to Danny," he said slowly, confusion and no small amount of concern bubbling in his gut, "if he wants it, that is."

Eyes shooting up from her notepad, the Governor's mouth formed an 'O' that conveyed a myriad of emotions Steve felt too tired to read. "Detective Williams?"

"Is something wrong with that?" Steve stopped just short of snapping, prepared to defend his partner's abilities. "He's an incredible detective with instincts unlike anyone I've seen. He typically takes over in my absence, and he excels in that leadership role. Furthermore, he's been my partner for ten years, and I've never met a better man than him."

"I meant no offense, Commander," she backpedaled, laying down her notebook. "Perhaps you should speak to Detective Williams yourself about this."

"Is there something going on that I should know about?"

The Governor rose, turning to place the notebook back on the desk in a blatant evasion tactic. "Nothing serious, but things do change in three months. If you decide to retire, speak to your partner about who takes over."

In the face of the obvious dismissal, Steve rose as well and quelled the flood of anxious questions threatening to pour from his mouth. Every minute since his plane landed niggled an instinct embedded deep in his DNA, a feeling that told him something was wrong. It grew into a siren, wailing as each conversation fractured the illusion of normalcy.

And every single fault line traced directly back to his partner.

Numbly exchanging farewell pleasantries with the Governor, he resisted the urge to sprint out of the office. Long strides that barely qualified as walking carried him out into the fresh air of the late afternoon transitioning to early evening. With his plaque clenched under one arm, he shaded his eyes and found Lou standing alone near his SUV. The former Chicago cop glared down the long driveway, shoulders bunched in a manner that screamed 'stress.'

"Lou!"

The man spun around with a smile plastered on his face, but Steve refused to be deterred. "Someone better tell me right now where the hell Danny is and what's going on!"

"Steve - -"

"No, Lou!" Steve didn't realize his fists were strangling his award until Lou gently removed the plaque from his grasp. "Everyone is acting weird and they all have the same expression every time I mention Danny. What aren't you telling me?"

Hesitating, Lou seemed to have an internal debate before his shoulders slumped. "Aw, damn it, Steve. I was really hoping to avoid this."

A boulder lodged itself in the SEAL's throat, stomach flipping as a host of worst-case scenarios rushed into his head. "Please tell me he's okay, Lou," he pleaded, the rage from seconds before completely absent from his voice.

Please, please, I can't lose him too.

Lou hesitated again, which did nothing to ease Steve's anxiety. "Look, I didn't lie to you. He was on his way to the airport to meet you when he saw our perp in the car ahead of him. I happened to be on the phone with you when he realized, and he told me he planned to tail the guy. Wouldn't take no for an answer and asked me to stall you at the airport. I haven't heard anything from him since."

"So he's missing?" Attempting to swallow around the lump in his throat, he forced himself to meet his friend's gaze. "Or is he avoiding me and you all are too scared to tell me?"

Giving nothing away, Lou only sighed. "I don't know, Steve. Things are… complicated, alright? As far as I know, though, he's only running late. Nothing more."

Before Steve could call him that obvious load of bullcrap, Adam reappeared from behind the house and jogged over. "Danny's fine, Steve. Just got off the phone with Duke, and he said he drove Danny to the airport himself. Apparently, Danny caught our perp but his car broke down and his cell phone got busted. I'm guessing that he'll meet us at Lou's for the barbeque when he realizes you're already gone."

"Is Duke still with him?" Lou spoke up, guarded relief emanating from his body language.

"No, he needed to get back to the scene. Without a car or a cell phone, Danny probably just grabbed a cab. But he's alright and we sort of know where he is."

Danny's okay. Thank God.

Rubbing his eyes, Steve allowed himself to relax a bit. "We could just wait here," he proposed. "I mean, he knew about the ceremony, right? Chances are he told the cab to come here."

"True," Lou and Adam exchanged a glance before the older cop continued, "but I think it's more likely that he's at my place with everyone else. We should get over there soon. They've whipped up a whole feast in your honor and everyone wants to see you. You got other friends who missed having you around these past three months."

Yeah, Steve thought, a tiny bit of guilt churning in his gut, but they aren't my brother. I didn't leave them the way I left Danny.

A hand landed on his shoulder, drawing his attention to Adam's warm, understanding gaze. "Tell you what. I'll wait here for a while just in case he shows up. In the meantime, you two head to the party. If Danny's already there, Lou'll shoot me a text. Sound good?"

Reluctantly nodding, Steve thanked Adam and climbed into the SUV. Lou chattered on and on about the incredible food that the Five-0 ohana had been cooking all day, but Steve's thoughts were far away. As trees and cars blurred outside the window, he recalled his last conversation with Danny and wondered for the umpteenth time if Danny would even listen to what he had to say.

What if his brother was already lost to him?

~H50~

The phone rang three times before the telltale click of the line opening.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the world traveller himself," a voice with that familiar Jersey accent drawled.

Steve couldn't help but smile, signalling the waitress of the small Parisian cafe for a refill. "Hello to you too, Danno. No need to sound so delighted to hear my voice."

A brief pause preceded the snarky comeback. "You must've forgotten the minutiae of a Jersey accent, my friend, because 'delight' sounds a whole lot different where I come from. What, you spend so much time overseas that you don't remember what I sound like?"

"After ten years of listening to you yapping from the passenger's seat, I'm pretty sure your voice is permanently embedded in my brain."

"Yapping? I'll have you know that I gifted you many pearls of wisdom on those car rides, so you're welcome." Mock outrage oozed from Danny's tone, widening Steve's grin. "You, on the other hand, contributed mainly in the form of grunts. I became trilingual when we became partners: English, Spanish, and Neanderthal."

"Don't forget 'Grump-ese'. That's one language you spoke fluently even before I met you."

Instead of refuting the statement, Danny remained uncharacteristically silent long enough that Steve wondered if the call cut out. Frowning, Steve checked the signal on his phone. "Danno? You there?"

A small sigh, then Danny replied, "Yeah."

"Something wrong?" Now that Steve thought about it, his friend's voice held an… odd note to it. A tension - no, that wasn't the right word. Weariness, perhaps. Like he was following the familiar paths of conversation and routine because he lacked the energy to do anything else.

Danny paused again, and Steve was really beginning to hate those voids of dead air. "Nah. 'M tired. Been a long day."

"Yeah? What time is it there?"

"Almost 2 AM."

Steve's eyes popped out of his head, nearly leaping out of his chair. "Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry; I should've - -"

"Steve, buddy, you're fine." Danny chuckled. "It's not your fault. I was up already."

"At 2 in the morning?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"Damn it, Daniel!" Steve growled. "You're supposed to be taking care of yourself. Were you working? Because I know for a fact that the Doc hasn't cleared you yet!"

As if Steve's angrily-voiced concern was a personal affront, Danny's tone morphed to one of defensive ire. "What, are you keeping tabs on me now, Steven? It's my life, and last I checked, you don't get a say in it!"

Swallowing hard, Steve bit back his furious retort. "I'm just worried, alright?"

His attempt to de-escalate his friend, however, utterly failed. "So now you're worried?" the Jersey native scoffed. "Really? I haven't slept well in ages, Steve, thanks to all the crap I've had to deal with… most of it yours! And getting kidnapped and shot didn't exactly help. But now you decide it's worth worrying about?"

The words hit Steve like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him just as effectively as a blow to the sternum. Danny wasn't sleeping because of him, because of the damage his enemies had caused. No matter what he did, everyone he cared about received the repercussions of his actions.

Yes, leaving was the right decision. Danny couldn't get hurt with Steve out of the way.

"'M sorry, Danno," he murmured, clearing his throat in an attempt to rid himself of the lump lodged there. "It's all my fault."

Silence, then another sigh. "No, it's not. I'm just whining, alright? There's nothing to worry about. I appreciate you calling, really."

Refraining from calling Danny out on his obvious 'nothing to worry about' lie, Steve mustered up a half-smile. "I don't mind, Danno. It's not a problem at all. Just wanted to check on you before I got on with my day."

And just like that, the silence was back.

Steve kicked himself, literally. "That's not what I meant."

"It's alright, Steve." It clearly wasn't, based on the weariness once again dominating Danny's voice. "I'll let you get back to your adventure. It was great to hear from you, but I won't hold you up any longer."

"Wait, Danny - -"

Click.

Staring at the phone in his hand, Steve slumped in his seat. The heaviness that seemed to catch up to him every time he reached a new destination made its grand entrance, and it took all of his self-control not to chuck his phone across the street.

Instead, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and stared unseeingly at the people passing by. "Damn it," he finally murmured.

~H50~

"Here we are."

Kono pulled over just in front of the long driveway leading to the Governor's mansion. "I'd offer to stick around just in case they're already gone, but I gotta get to my cousin's."

Anxiety bubbled in Danny's gut as he stared at the Governor's mansion. Due to an obscene amount of traffic (really, could his luck get any worse?), the drive to the location of Steve's ceremony took twice as long as normal. He'd probably already missed the ceremony, but he hoped he'd made it in time to catch Steve before they left for the barbeque at Lou's house.

"Not a problem." The blond hid a wince as he slid out of the car. "Thanks for the ride. It was really good to see you."

Grinning, Kono gave him a shaaka. "Aww, shoots, brah. I missed you too. And hey," she stopped him from closing the door, "you and Steve? You'll work it out. Just remember that as much as you need him, he also needs you. Partners, right?"

Danny swallowed. "Yeah, partners." With a small smile on his face, he nodded in farewell. "Don't be a stranger, Kono."

He closed the door and watched as the little red car drove off. Then, he walked as fast as he was able up the driveway, hoping to spot his absent brother. Surely his luck wasn't bad enough for him to miss Steve twice!

… right?

Chapter Text

No matter how many times he came back, Danny absolutely hated the Governor's Mansion.

Well, not the whole thing. He specifically hated walking up the driveway and the view of the giant house sitting in all its glory before him. Even if he and Steve arrived in the middle of the day for a meeting with the Governor, this particular sight never failed to trigger a vivid image of one of the worst days of his life.

Blue and red flashing lights standing out against the dark sky. Sirens bleeping and blaring in clashing notes, shattering the peace of the night. And as he slammed the brakes, he saw it through the sea of HPD: Chin Ho Kelly dragging Steve McGarrett out the front door of the big white house.

In handcuffs.

"Hey, hey, Chin!" he yelled, his voice breaking through the hubbub.

"Danny!" Steve rasped, trying to turn his head.

Yeah, he'd never forget the desperate tone lacing Steve's voice - like Danny was his lifeline in the sea of chaos. In that moment - in the face of that unspoken plea - Danny knew he'd miss his flight. He couldn't abandon Steve.

Sometimes, he pondered what his life would look like if he went to the airport and got on the plane with Rachel and Grace. Not that he ever regretted his decision, no. So many good things happened since, things he wouldn't trade for the world.

But there were four times in his life where he felt completely and utterly alone. Those first few months on the island before joining Five-0, driving back to his shitty apartment after seeing Steve arrested were two of them. The third was when he got carted off to a Columbian prison where he'd probably die within a week, if not sooner.

But the fourth was when Steve walked away from him three months ago, leaving him sitting alone on the beach in that old wooden chair. Part of him wondered if his tone held the same desperation when they said goodbye on the beach as Steve's did when they arrested him here all those years ago.

Clingy son of a bitch, he thought bitterly. And you wonder why they all leave you.

If he had to name one thing that persisted amidst the sea of numbness encompassing his life since Wo Fat's insane wife kidnapped him, it was self-flagellation. Or pain. These days, he couldn't seem to escape either.

Belatedly, the Jersey detective realized he'd been standing frozen at the bottom of the drive completely oblivious to his surroundings. "Wow, Williams," he muttered, shaking his head and taking a step, "you're really doin' great. First you crash your car, then you freeze like a freakin' statue in the middle of the road."

Maybe you're the one who needs their head examined, Danno, came the mental taunt in a voice that sounded an awful lot like Steve's. All these years, you been tellin' everyone I'm the crazy one and it's been you all along.

"Shut up, Steven," he shot back with a scowl. "You're not even here."

As it turned out, that statement was more true than the detective realized.

It only took a few seconds for Danny to notice the lack of cars on the drive and surrounding the mansion. Despite that rather obvious clue of his continuing bad luck, he quickened his pace as much as his aching body could bear. Some of the team might still be here, he reasoned, since the Governor mentioned wanting to meet with Steve after the ceremony. Maybe - -

Rounding the corner of the house to the open field where the ceremony was meant to be held, his heart plummeted to his stomach for the second time that day. No team, no sign of Steve. In fact, the entire area had already been cleaned up from the ceremony.

Danny was too late. Again.

This time, exhaustion, numbness, and no shortage of pain stifled his frustrated outcry, words dying before they left his lips. Instead, he plopped down on the sidewalk that ran from the driveway to the front door in an undignified, barely controlled fall. Three months, three freakin' months since he'd seen his best friend! Hadn't he been through enough? The first thing he actually wanted - the first thing he chased after since Steve left - was taunting him, like grains of sand slipping through his clenched fist.

It was almost funny. He would've laughed, but he had the distinct feeling it would've come out sounding like a sob.

"Y'know," he huffed, glaring at the sky, "whatever I did in a past life to deserve this, I'm pretty sure I paid for it already. Can you stop with this goofy game already?"

The sky, however, remained cheerfully silent.

Flopping a hand in the air, he shook his head and desperately tried to ignore the persistent throbbing that pounded in his head like a bass drum. "Great, awesome. Thanks for nothin'. And by the way, next time you wanna screw up someone's life, find someone else, alright? I just wanna be left alone!"

"Now that's an awfully rude thing to say," the sky replied.

Danny nearly jumped out of his skin, squinting against the sunlight as a figure strode into view from up the driveway. It stopped a few feet away, forcing Danny to crane his neck to meet the amused gaze of Adam Noshimuri. Tilting his head, the former Yakuza member offered a hand to the sitting detective. "What're you doing down there?"

Danny gladly accepted the hand and rode Adam's pull to his feet, grunting as his chest flared at the movement. "Contemplating my past life decisions. Seemed as good a spot as any."

Finally upright, his head reminded him of its rather unpleasant meeting with the steering wheel. Only Adam's hold on his forearm kept him from crashing back down to the sidewalk. As the world faded in and out, he swallowed hard against his gut's nauseous churning.

He would not puke, he would not puke!

"Whoa, Danny!" Adam's grip tightened around his arm, his other hand coming to grasp his wrist. "Take it easy, alright?'

"Dizzy," he managed in response to the unspoken query, eyes squeezing shut.

Adam, being an absolute saint of a man (in Danny's current humble opinion, anyway), required no further explanation. The hand on Danny's wrist moved to his back, bracing him in case the dizziness escalated to full-blown passing out.

The wooziness dissipated a moment later, but Adam kept his hold on Danny after the man straightened. "Now that you're not going to keel over on me," Adam said, his voice light despite the severity of his gaze, "you feel like explaining how you got that giant gash on your head?"

"Nope." Shaking himself free from Adam's grip, he peered over the taller man's shoulder. "Where's everyone else? Is Steve inside?"

"Ah, ah, ah! You first, Danny." Taking a step back, Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Or should I call Duke back and get the whole story from him?"

Damn it. One minor cut and suddenly everyone began dabbling in blackmail.

So Danny gave an extremely abridged version of the day's events, yet Adam clearly was astute enough to read between the lines. With a drawn-out sigh, the Oriental man scanned the detective and noted the stiff stance and blood-spattered shirt that mitigated his attempts to downplay the situation. His reaction was less severe than Kono's, Danny noted, probably because he'd been present during the decline in Danny's health. The small changes - inevitable with the lack of food and sleep Danny managed to retain - were far less noticeable day-to-day.

Furthermore, Adam was one of the few who didn't look at him with sympathy or try to coddle him, which made his presence much easier to bear. Still, it took nearly all of Danny's self control to keep from squirming under his assessing gaze.

"You know Steve's gonna kill you, right?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "So everyone keeps telling me. Yet despite my best efforts, the universe seems determined to make sure I don't see him today. So now that I've answered your questions, can you please tell me where the hell Steve is so I can remind him that civilized people text more than one word answers to their friends?"

Unlike Kono, Adam learned over the past few months when to stop pressing Danny about his health. Pulling an energy bar out of his pocket, he shoved it into the shorter detective's hands. "Eat that, because I bet a month's salary that you haven't eaten anything since those two bites of chow mein at lunch today."

"Adam."

"Uh uh, Danny. I'll answer when you start eating."

With a glare that could've incinerated any normal man on the spot, Danny tore the wrapper and took a big bite. "Happy now?" he grouched, the food stuffed in his cheek.

Adam ignored the comment, motioning for Danny to follow him. "Steve left with Lou a little while ago to go to the barbeque. And let me tell you, he did not want to go when he found out you were MIA. It wasn't until I offered to stick around here for a bit in case you showed up that he calmed down."

"Good thing you did." Adam's car was parked on the street, and Danny headed for the passenger's side. "Lost my cell at the scene. I thought about borrowing Kono's phone when we got delayed, but I figured you all would still be here."

Climbing into the driver's seat, Adam took Danny's empty wrapper and stuffed it in the cupholder. "Well, you know Steve. He likes to keep meetings with politicians short and sweet. Let me text Lou quickly and let him know that I found you, and then we'll get going."

Though Danny was eager to catch up to his wayward partner, he patiently waited for Adam to type out a quick message. He expected the other man to start the car, but Adam instead twisted in his seat and pulled out an unopened water bottle from the backseat. "It's a little warm," he apologized as he turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the house, "but it's better than nothing."

"Actually, I'd prefer 'nothing' over drinking water that's warm enough to take a bath in."

"Then I guess it's a good thing I don't give a damn about your preferences." Adam easily merged onto the busy street and immediately moved into the passing lane. "You either drink that or I'll cut off your coffee supply for the next week."

"Geez, okay!" Danny hurriedly cracked open the bottle and took a swig of the uncomfortably-warm water. "You don't gotta go all Yakuza on me, buddy."

As loath as he was to admit it, the energy bar and water dispelled some of the wooziness in his head, leaving only the pounding headache. Better yet, it seemed like the food and water would actually stay down. Which, in Danny's opinion, was the best news he'd gotten all day.

"I prefer to think of it as tough love." Grinning mischievously, Adam risked a quick glance at Danny before turning his attention back to the road. "It can come in all forms, though my personal favorite will always be a glass of ice water to the face."

Danny's shoulders stiffened at the comment, indignation taking its turn on the front burner of emotion. "I'm fine," he growled. "Don't worry about me, alright? I don't need everyone to take care of me!"

"Too bad." Adam matched Danny's ire, his tone unyielding. "Look, Danny, you were there when I hit rock bottom and helped pull me out of it. This isn't pity, penance, duty, or whatever you think it is. I'm doing for you what I would do for any hurting member of my ohana." Adam's genuine gaze seemed to penetrate right through Danny.

"I'm not hurting," the Jersey native protested weakly, knowing his friend would easily see through the paper-thin lie.

"Then you need to see a chiropractor, my friend, because no one should be walking around as stiffly as you do."

Adam's smile was infectious, and Danny couldn't help but offer a small smile of his own. Settling back in his seat, he took another sip of water and allowed his mind to wander. A quiet and calming presence, Adam's company soothed the twisted knot that tied itself in Danny's chest the moment he saw the suspect's car on the H1.

He was on his way to see Steve, finally. Surely nothing else would stand in his way.

~H50~

After more hugs and handshakes than Steve thought he could possibly handle (Lou wasn't kidding when he said half the island would be there), the ex-SEAL found himself standing on the Grovers' lanai helplessly scanning the sea of people. The joy of seeing Kamekona, Noelani, and the rest of the extended Five-0 ohana was dampened by the absence of one Detective Danny Williams.

Seriously, where the hell was his partner?

Frustration and worry warred with weariness, a day of travelling and socializing having long since caught up with him. Thanks to jetlag, his body demanded he sleep as soon as possible despite it only being early evening. Eyelids drooping, he shook his head and stubbornly refocused on the crowd.

"C'mon, Danno. Hurry up," Steve murmured, rubbing eyes that felt as though someone rubbed them with sandpaper.

A figure broke free from the crowd and headed up the porch stairs towards the former SEAL, and it took an alarming number of seconds for Steve's eyes to focus enough to identify the giant blob.

Lou Grover. With a plate piled high with food in one hand and a beer in the other.

Damn, sometimes he really loved that man.

"Y'know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think there was a zombie standing on my porch," the former Chicago S.W.A.T captain joked. "You look like hell, man."

"Yeah, very funny. I'd like to see you look better after an entire day traveling."

"Are you kiddin' me, McGarrett?" Lou raised an eyebrow. "Boy, I'll have you know that I can travel for days on end and walk off the plane without a hair out of place."

"Well, I got news for you, pal: you can't have a hair out of place if you don't have any hair."

The look Lou gave him was priceless, one of dramatic outrage that contrasted with the humor in his eyes. "To think I once considered you as a friend." He dabbed his eyes with the back of the hand that held the beer and said in a choked-up voice, "I got a delicate self-image, man, and you just went and crushed it like a damn soda can."

Rolling his eyes, Steve decided to concede the point. "If that plate of food is for me, I'll apologize. Hell, I'll even get on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness."

"Normally, I'd make you do just that," the bigger man said, setting the coveted plate of food on the low table set up in between several cushy wicker chairs. "I'd probably even record it for posterity. But then I'd have to haul your sorry ass off the ground when you couldn't get up and fell asleep down there."

Now usually, Steve would've adamantly protested this accusation. However, considering the porch railing he was leaning against was the only reason he remained upright, he decided to forgo the pointless debate. Lou seemed to know it too, for he guided the SEAL away from the railing and shoved him into a nearby chair.

Steve sighed and sank into the cushions, accepting the beer Lou handed to him. "Thanks," he said around a jaw-cracking yawn, taking a sip of beer and digging into the plate of food. "This has all been really great. I'm glad I got to see everyone."

Well, almost everyone. But he didn't want to think about that right this second.

"Yeah, it's been fun." Lou sat in the chair beside him, looking out over the crowd gathered in his yard. "We'll have to do it again when you're awake enough to enjoy it."

Wow, great idea! Steve's internal voice was unbearably sarcastic. Would've been nice if you all thought of that before I almost fell asleep during my own award ceremony.

Fortunately, he was still awake enough to block the comment from slipping unfiltered from his lips. "Any word on Danny?" he asked instead.

"As a matter of fact, I came up here to give you an update. The food just happened to be an afterthought." Lou waved his phone, a smile on his face. "Adam texted and said that Danny showed up at the Governor's Mansion looking for you. They're on their way here now."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve scrubbed his face with both hands. "Okay, great. Thanks, Lou. Any idea how far out they are?"

"I'm guessin' about 15, maybe 20 minutes." Resting his elbows on his knees, the older cop lowered his voice. "Listen, you're tired and I'm betting Danny is too. Adam will text when he gets here and he'll wait out front with Danny. You say your goodbyes, then he'll drive the two of yous back to your place so you can argue in peace."

For the second time in minutes, Steve remembered why he loved the Chicago native.

"Thank you, man," he said, meeting his friend's gaze steadily. "Seriously, I appreciate everything you've done for me in all this. You went above and beyond."

And Lou had. He stepped up as temporary head of Five-0 with Danny and Steve both gone. He kept an eye on Danny and dutifully fielded all of Steve's worried queries. He diverted the press and politicians from digging into Steve's private life when he left. Best of all, he had just promised Steve that his reunion with his bed wouldn't be much longer in coming.

Truly, the man was a saint, or about as close as someone wearing the badge could get.

But in typical fashion, Lou waved away his gratitude. "Ah, it ain't anything you wouldn't do for me. You saved my life, remember? Least I can do is save you from socializing when you look this bad."

Chuckling at his own joke, the former SWAT captain rose, patted Steve on the back, and meandered back down to the throng of cheerful partygoers. Steve, having polished off the plate of food, leaned back in his chair and stifled another yawn.

15 minutes - that's what Lou said. He'd finally see Danny, and then he would sleep until kingdom come. Simple, right? Surely a decorated Navy SEAL could stay awake for a lousy 15 minutes!

That was his last conscious thought before his eyelids slipped shut.

~H50~

Danny wasn't concerned when they hit traffic. At first, anyway.

After all, this was Hawaii. The traffic on this godforsaken rock actually rivalled traffic in Jersey, especially during tourist season. Though it annoyed him to no end, he knew how to handle traffic with some degree of grace and patience. And when that ran out - well, then the Jersey devil in him emerged to cuss and bully his way through congested streets.

So he and Adam hit traffic on the way to Lou's. No biggie, right? Danny had waited all day to see his partner; he could wait a little longer.

Unfortunately, his goodwill ran out when the car reached a complete standstill and didn't move for a half hour and counting. Adam could've put the car in park, or turned it off completely to save gas. Furthermore, other cars continued to inch into every last open space, completely boxing the two Five-0 detectives in from all sides.

Despite his best efforts to stay calm, Danny was beginning to get a bit peeved.

Scratch that. His emotional dam had sprung a leak back when he blew up (rather unjustly, he'd admit) at Kono in the airport, allowing his anger to freely flow while all other feelings struggled to ekk through. After all, anger was dominating, consuming, and - above all - easy. It required nothing of him - no thinking or dwelling needed. Rage merely wanted a vessel, and Danny was more than happy to offer himself.

Part of him knew allowing anger free-reign would end only in pain. But right now, he was beyond pissed off, and he had no problem informing everyone within earshot of this.

Adam, who was also frustrated, tolerated the blond's furious ranting for a while before making the mistake of telling Danny to calm down.

Which went about as well as throwing gasoline on a bonfire.

"Calm - - calm down? Are you kidding me?" Danny's volume increased despite his best efforts, hands rising from bracing his ribs to further articulate his annoyance. "Don't tell me to calm down ever again in your life, alright? I was plenty calm before you said that, but now I am angry at you, this stupid island, and every single idiot who lives on it!"

Head resting in his hands, Adam's shoulders rose and fell in a sigh clearly meant to restrain his temper. "I only meant," he said in a carefully level voice, "that you should stop yelling about the traffic. It isn't going to change anything."

Silence. The eerie calm before an eruption.

And erupt Danny did.

"It - - it isn't going to change anything?" He was way past yelling now, so loud that other drivers looked in their direction. "Well then, I humbly apologize! God forbid I show any sort of frustration about the current situation!"

"Danny - -"

"No, this is where you zip it!" Hands clenched into fists, the only thing preventing Danny from decking Adam then and there was the increasing ache in his ribs. "Listen to me, alright? I've spent the entire day chasing people around the island - specifically my neanderthal partner! Yet the universe seems determined to make sure that I don't see him 'til I'm eighty! But no, you're right, I should just sit here in silence and smile, huh? When stuff goes wrong in my life, I'm supposed to pretend like everything's fine and dandy so everyone else can be comfortable, right?"

A knock on the driver's side window interrupted the furious tirade, startling both occupants of the car. It took a moment for Danny to break free from the hyperfocus of rage and tune back into the world around him, his cheeks reddening when he spotted the amused face of a young HPD officer squinting through Adam's window.

Quickly rolling down his window, the Oriental man schooled his expression. "Can I help you?"

"Mr. Noshimuri, Detective Williams," the officer greeted them cordially, though the corners of his mouth still curled upwards in an amused smile. "Didn't realize it was you. I was heading towards the back of this mess when I heard the yelling."

"Yeah, we're in a bit of a hurry to get somewhere and we got a little heated." Though Danny was still angry at the man, he had to admit that Adam was excellent at diffusing situations. "Traffic never fails to bring out the worst in people."

"Yeah, tell me about it," the officer grumbled. "I've never been cussed out so much in my entire life."

Seeing an opportunity, Danny leaned over as far as his aching ribs would allow. "Any idea of what's going on, or how long it'll take for all this to clear up?"

"I've actually never seen anything like it before." Taking off his cap, the officer gestured further down the road with it. "A truck hauling a giant load of pineapples blew a tire and spun out of control. Ended up flipping over onto its side."

"My God, is anyone hurt?" Adam asked, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Do you guys need anything from us?"

Shaking his head, the cop pursed his lips. "No, we have the situation under control and no one was seriously injured. Unfortunately, the truck is completely blocking the road and his haul of pineapples spilled all over the place. Cleanup is going to take a long time, and we've got cars backed up bumper to bumper for quite a ways."

Frustration boiling over, Danny barely managed to keep his tone civil. "So how're we supposed to get out of here?"

"We're working on it, Detective Williams. As of now, we've got the road closed off from incoming traffic, and we're working on turning cars at the back of the line around and sending them on their way. It's gonna take time though… at least an hour we even get to you. Maybe longer." Checking over his shoulder, the officer straightened. "I gotta get going, but I can ask my sergeant to connect you to our channel so you can hear what's happening."

"Alright, thank you," Adam replied, resignation lacing the farewell. Rolling up his window, he sighed and pulled out his cell phone. "Better let Lou know that we're gonna be a little while."

But Danny barely heard him, hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. The tremble was back, he absently noted, and he briefly wondered if it was the true problem. Forget broken bones and a probable concussion. His shaking hands showed the world a glimpse of the gaping hole inside him, a physical manifestation of emotional loss.

So he trembled like an addict going through withdrawal. Yeah, that seemed like an apt description. Out of all the recovering addicts he'd spoken with, they all told him the same thing. The worst part of withdrawal wasn't the pain or the unbalance of one's body.

It was the loss. The absence. The incessant need.

Danny needed to see his brother so badly that everything else inside him began revolting as well against the man's departure. And with this revelation came no small amount of disgust.

Burden, his demons accused. You're a grown man, Williams! Stop being so clingy!

Yet for all his self-flagellation, Danny still would give his right arm to see Steve right then and there.

Oblivious to Danny's inner turmoil, Adam typed out a quick text before leaning his chair back. "Sorry, Danny, but we're just gonna have to wait this out. But hey, in an hour or so, you can see Steve and grab some food."

An hour or so?

No. No way. Danny refused to wait any longer. Despite his best efforts, he'd been too late and missed his friend by mere minutes at every opportunity. There was no way in hell he'd sit around waiting with his best friend less than 5 miles away.

With his mind made up, the Jersey native grabbed his water bottle (a new, full one Adam shoved in his hands at a stoplight) and threw the car door open. Pulling himself out of the vehicle took every ounce of energy he'd managed to accumulate during the various car rides throughout the day, and a bolt of fiery agony shot from his head down to his toes at the sudden movement. Still, he managed to stifle his cry for the most part, only a gasp escaping his tight control.

"Danny, what the hell are you doing? Where do you think you're going?"

"What do you think?" Danny shouted over his shoulder, weaving his way through cars until he reached the side of the road. The sidewalk started not too far ahead of him, and it was a relatively straight shot to Lou's.

Glancing behind him, he saw Adam struggling to open his car door, pinned in by a too-eager driver who thought they could gain a couple inches by weaving in between the lanes. The Oriental man might come after him, he knew, but what could he do? Danny was utterly determined to get to Lou's by whatever means necessary, even if he had to walk the whole way.

"I'm goin' to go see Steve," he growled under his breath. Quickening his pace, the blond stubbornly shoved his aches and pains to the back of his mind and focused on the trek ahead of him. He wouldn't be too late, damnit, he couldn't be too late!

Not this time.

Chapter Text

Sensations slowly filtered through the fog of much-needed slumber, partially rousing the exhausted SEAL from his impromptu nap.

The buzz of many voices, random ones occasionally rising above the din before blending with the others once more.

The smell of food, a dozen flavors springing to mind through his nose.

A warm hand resting on his shoulder and nudging him closer to consciousness, though it failed to bring him completely to a waking state.

And finally, the gentle rumble of a familiar voice, words undistinguishable.

"D'nno?" Steve mumbled, his voice raspy and rough from sleep.

"No, Steve, it's Lou." Another hand joined the first, pulling his limp body upright. Steve tried to help, but there seemed to be a disconnect between his brain and his body. He had a kink in his neck, and the twinge brought him a little closer to the waking world.

"W'ass goin' on?" Prying his eyelids open took more energy than he thought possible, his eyes feeling almost gummy with weariness. He actually had to work to focus his gaze, taking in the late evening sky from the comfort of a porch.

Ah. Lou's porch, the welcome home barbeque. He must've fallen asleep in the chair, which explained the crick in his neck.

"You fell asleep, man." The big guy's voice was surprisingly kind as he affirmed Steve's theory. "I'm gonna take you home, alright? You sleep in this chair any longer and you'll need a chiropractor for the rest of your life."

Those gentle hands pulled him to his feet and supported his swaying body, then guided him towards the back door of the house. If he had the energy to be embarrassed at all the manhandling, Steve would've shaken off the helping hands and fallen flat on his face. Fortunately for his face, sleepiness clung to him like a burr and mitigated any potential pride.

Plus, it helped that Lou chose the path that led them through the empty house rather than the one that required him to walk through a crowd of well-wishers still gathered in the backyard. Really, all Steve had to do was stay semi-upright, and Lou did the rest.

Another door opened and Steve found himself on Lou's front porch staring down a line of parked cars. Damn, Lou was right about half the island showing up for this shindig. Still, he didn't see Adam's car… or a certain short, feisty, blond detective.

"Where's D'nny?" he slurred, blinking in confusion. He could've sworn Lou told him that Danny was coming and they'd go back to his house together. "Lou?"

The older man continued guiding him forward towards the SUV parked on the street. "He's not coming, Steve. You can see him tomorrow, alright?"

Steve stopped in his tracks, immovable against Lou's attempts to get him in the car. "No," he protested stubbornly, rubbing his eyes. "H's comin' with Adam, you told me. We gotta wait, 'kay?"

Lou's face finally appeared in his field of vision, a disbelieving eyebrow raised. "Steve, man, they got held up and can't make it. Danny's not coming, okay? But I swear you'll see him tomorrow." Exasperation colored his tone as he tugged at Steve's arm again. "Now let's get you home so you can sleep, alright? C'mon, man."

As Lou's words registered, Steve allowed himself to be pulled into the passenger's seat of Lou's SUV. "He hates me?" he couldn't help but ask, eyes traitorously dipping shut again. Forcing them open, he batted Lou's hands away from the seatbelt and buckled himself in. "Lou, why doesn't he want to see me?"

Between the soupy tone and the raw emotion on display, Steve felt like a five-year-old pouting. He probably resembled one too. But damn it all, he just wanted to see his best friend, yet the world seemed dead-set against it happening.

After all he'd endured in his rather painful life, could anyone blame him for seeking reassurance that he hadn't lost yet another person?

"What? No!" Lou's voice faded as a door slammed shut, then came back as another door opened and closed. Belatedly, Steve realized his eyes had once again closed, and he didn't have the energy to open them. "Danny doesn't hate you and he wants to see you. You can talk to him about it when you wake up tomorrow, alright?"

It didn't really answer Steve's question, but he found himself drifting as the vibrations of the car ride lulled him back to a half-slumber. He felt as though he was weightless and unbearably heavy at the same time, like he was floating on the gentle waves of the ocean. Or sinking beneath its depths. Either way, it was oddly soothing and he allowed himself to fall deeper into sleep's open arms.

Sensations faded in and out once more. His limp body moved with the car, landing against the window when Lou made a semi-sharp turn. It wasn't enough to wake him fully, but it allowed a new sensation to penetrate his somnolent mind.

Voices.

"No sign of him?" That deep rumble belonged to Lou Grover, no question.

The other voice was tinny, like it was coming through a speaker. "No. I have a couple guys from HPD lookin' for him, but with this huge traffic jam, they're kind of preoccupied."

Adam.

Lou's voice rose a bit, incredulousness lacing his words. "I can't believe he did that! He was in a car accident, for cryin' out loud! What the hell was he thinking?"

"I've learned it's wiser to not question the insanity, especially where McGarrett and Williams are concerned."

"You got a good point." A brief pause, then, "Well, we know where he's headed. I'll call Junior and get him to come from the other direction. Between the two of yous, you'll probably spot him. We gotta get him off the streets before that fool can hurt himself further."

"Gotcha. How's Steve?"

Another pause, then Lou's voice dropped. "Sleepin' like a baby. He was upset earlier though when he found out Danny wasn't coming. Asked me why Danny didn't want to see him."

Adam's sigh sounded tinny over the speaker. "What a mess."

"You're tellin' me, but we can sort it all out tomorrow. I'll get McGarrett into bed, and then I'll come help with Williams if you need it. Might want…"

Sleep once more took over, drowning out the conversation with its siren call. Steve barely registered the rest of the ride home, waking partially as Lou dragged him into the house. It was an awkward dance getting Steve out of the borrowed clothes and into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his carry-on, but with Lou's help, he managed. And though it was still light outside, Steve nearly cried when he finally got to climb into bed.

He wasn't entirely sure if he fell asleep before his head hit the pillow. If not, it was a near thing.

~H50~

About ten minutes into the impulsive walk to Lou's place, Danny wondered if he made an enormous mistake.

Five minutes later, he was certain of it.

With a pounding head, screaming ribs, and throbbing body, collapse seemed not only likely but inimant. Still, he stubbornly pushed onwards, stumbling down the sidewalk like a drunk. Ignoring the stares of drivers with nothing better to do in the traffic jam, his vision tunneled on the horizon.

He could make it. Failure was unacceptable.

After all, how pissed would his team be if they found him passed out on the side of the road? Or worse - passed out in the hospital… actually, they might be happy about that. Lord knew Danny used every ounce of energy he possessed to avoid going back and his team gave up trying to make him long ago. Though, sometimes Lou futilely attempted to cajole him into going for a "checkup."

Yeah, sure, a checkup. Danny knew exactly what that meant. He wasn't an idiot; he knew how much weight he'd dropped since the kidnapping. Hell, he'd needed to buy a smaller belt three weeks ago to make sure his pants didn't end up around his ankles, and he dropped down another notch two days ago. The instant any medical professional got a good look at Danny, they'd want to admit him - maybe even throw him in a padded room with sedatives. And he wouldn't even blame them.

Waving his badge at the officer guarding the perimeter of the scene of the accident, Danny expended more energy than he thought possible avoiding stepping on and tripping over the pineapples spread all over the street and sidewalk. Which, in his opinion, only added to his long list of pineapple grievances. Out of all of the things preventing him from seeing his long-absent friend, it had to be pineapples.

How much more ironic could his life get?

Still, better they end up smashed on the street than desecrating a mediocre slice of pizza. That thought earned a small smile from the exhausted man despite his body's many growing aches and pains. He was limping now, which drew concerned questioning from the officer guarding the opposite parameter.

"I'm fine," he told the guy. His most common lie.

Stay on your feet, Williams.

'Fine' lost its meaning three months ago. Now, it was a hollow word. It slapped a band-aid on a gunshot wound, a window dressing over a wound gushing blood.

Despite this, he stumbled on searching for something that might make things better. Or worse. At this point, Danny wasn't sure if things could get much worse.

Gotta stop, gotta stop!

Like he willed it into existence, a parked bench rose from the horizon and gave him a tangible goal. Gasping, the detective grit his teeth against his revolting ribs and forced himself to take a step. And another. And another. Until he all but collapsed on that glorious bench, his breaths sounding more and more like sobs.

There Danny sat, slumped over his knees with air exploding from his lungs in shuddering heaves. Vision swimming thanks to his concussion (okay, he'd admit it. He was definitely concussed), he barely won the debate with his stomach on whether his insides should stay… well, inside. With sweat coating his entire body and pained tremors only increasing, he must've been a sorry sight.

Great. A half-hour of walking turned him into a shuddering wreck. Maybe he really was getting old.

The humor failed to slow his racing heart. Try as he might, Danny couldn't still his shaking hands or corral his heaving chest. Like everything else in his life, control over his rebellious body abandoned him. All he had left was the ever-present hollowness and a boatload of scars, both physical and emotional.

C'mon, get up. You gotta go!

"I - I c-c-can't!" he sputtered, the words screamed no louder than a whisper. If a tear or two slipped out at the wretched proclamation, no one would ever know. "I can't-t do this an-anymore!"

Part of him expected some sort of response from that. Surely the universe would do something to acknowledge his anguish! Yet the cosmos remained stubbornly silent, cars passing by obliviously in the merry evening light. In a world marching steadily on, he alone was still. Abandoned.

All the while, his chances of seeing Steve shrank, slipping through his fingers as his strength ebbed away.

Please, he begged silently. I don't ask for much. Just this one thing, alright? I was too late for one brother - twice, in fact. Please don't make me late to see this one.

Because when he lost Matt, he nearly spiralled into despair so much worse than anything he'd ever experienced… if Steve hadn't been there. Steve became his anchor, just like Matt used to be. But now, he had no one to fill that role when Steve abruptly left him alone on the beach.

Before he could tug on that thread further, the constant drone of cars rushing by his little bench was broken by one familiar engine slowing. It disrupted the rhythm Danny'd grown used to, spurring him to raise his weary head.

A gaudy red Chevy pickup pulled up to the curb and sat idling. A familiar red truck. Steve only owned it for a year before passing it off to Junior during his absence, but Danny spent enough time in it to know it like the back of his hand. With Steve back on the island, maybe…

No freakin' way.

The driver's side door opened, and out popped Junior.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

Okay, not quite as good. But Junior's timely appearance still solved his problem.

"I'm fine, Junior." There was that 'fine' again, often uttered but rarely believed. Junior definitely wasn't buying it, rounding the front of the truck to crouch in front of him with those damned worried puppy dog eyes. "Aw, c'mon, buddy. If you keep givin' me that look, I'm gonna slap you silly."

Fortunately, Junior was one of the only members of the team who didn't push him. Whether it was because the younger SEAL was too polite or too smart to fight a futile battle, Danny didn't know or care. Despite the skeptical look, the younger officer extended his hand out to the still-seated detective.

"Heard you might need a ride."

Raising a shaking hand to clasp Junior's, Danny allowed the man to pull him to his feet. He wavered as yet another wave of dizziness washed over him, but if Junior noticed, he didn't say anything about it. He simply ushered the unsteady blond to the passenger's side, opening the door and practically lifting him up into the seat.

Danny sagged into the seat, its familiarity a small comfort amidst an absolutely terrible day. "Yeah, if you could drop me at Lou's, that'd be great."

"I can," Junior started the truck, "but Steve's not there. He fell asleep on the porch, so Lou took 'im home."

"Then take me to Steve's!"

Junior gave him a side glance, but dutifully pulled into traffic. "He looked pretty beat; he's probably sleeping. Maybe you should wait 'til tomorrow?"

"Seriously?" Gritting his teeth, Danny resisted the urge to punch the kid. "I don't really care, Junior. I spent the entire day chasing him around the island, and I'll be damned if I give up and go home just 'cause SuperSEAL's napping. So take. me. to. Steve's. Or give me the freakin' keys so I can drive myself!"

"Whatever you say, sir."

"And cut the 'sir,' alright? Geez, you sound like a limo driver or somethin'!"

One great thing about Junior Reigns was that he exuded total comfort in silence. Though Danny typically filled that quiet space, he had zero desire to talk right now and he knew Junior wouldn't force conversation. The guy simply scanned him, pursed his lips at the cut on his head and stiff posture, then turned on the radio. Music softly rippled through the void, allowing Danny to sag into his seat and block out the world.

If Junior actually drove him to Steve's place like he promised, Danny might consider promoting him to second on the list of "Favorite SEALs." Maybe even first.

Feelings jumbled up inside him, pushing against the creaking dam holding them in check as the scenery grew more and more familiar. Since he moved out shortly after Steve's departure, Danny had stayed as far away from Casa McGarrett as he possibly could. He stopped by the day before to ensure that everything in the house was ready for Steve's arrival, but his reaction had been… unbalanced to say the least. At least no one was around to witness it. Junior moved in with Tani a month ago, taking Eddie with him, and Junior and Lou took turns caring for the place since that move.

But now, driving those familiar streets, a phantom fire awoke in the still-healing hole in the spot where Danny's shoulder met his chest. He worked hard not to wince, kneading the healing tissue with his fingers. This house held the lifeblood of his brotherhood with Steve - memories of the day they met, their first civil conversation, tears, laughter, so much more. Maybe it was his pessimistic nature, but Danny couldn't shake the feeling that this might also be the place where their brotherhood breathed its final gasping breath.

Steve left to find peace and to deal with his demons, a decision that sparked the warm glow of pride and happiness in Danny. The self-sacrificing idiot had finally decided to take care of himself and Danny was his biggest cheerleader in that quest. However, Steve left then because of Danny. Even a totally blind, completely oblivious moron would recognize and interpret the signs. And that fact hurt worse than any beating or gunshot wound Wo Fat's insane wife inflicted.

Would Steve even want to see him? Or would Danny's presence just remind the former SEAL of all his enemies and failings and death…

And would Steve's presence be enough to heal the broken mess Danny Williams had become? Danny wasn't sure anymore, and that uncertainty only broke his shattered soul into further fragmented pieces. Excitement violently warred with pain, anger, joy, and sorrow for dominance, and Danny wondered if he'd survive the fight.

Unaware of Danny's emotional turmoil, Junior parked the big red truck in almost the exact same spot Danny usually parked. He left the car idling, but turned to examine Danny. "You want me to come in with you?"

"No." Danny winced, his voice harsher than he intended and he quickly backpedaled. "I'm good, Junior, seriously. I just want to see Steve and I'd rather not have an audience. Go back to the party and tell everyone I said hello, huh?"

Junior gave him a look, one that nearly raised Danny's hackles once more. Several expressions flitted across his face in a split second; disbelief, concern, was that pity? Before Danny could possibly decipher it all, the kid's expression settled on that carefully neutral look he'd seen far too often in the past three months from various members of Five-0.

I don't have time for this.

Forcing back yet another surge of ire, he threw the door open with as much grace as he could muster. "Thanks for the ride. I'll see you later, alright?"

The detective practically leapt out of the car, slamming the door shut before Junior could get a word in. His knees nearly buckled the instant they bore his full weight. Only his grip on the truck's door handle and his unending stubbornness kept him from face planting on the pavement.

Stay standing, Williams.

Vision tunneling, he focused solely on that familiar front door and pushed back the assault of pain and memories - one and the same - from impeding his steps. His legs wobbled from either weariness, pain, or low blood sugar. Maybe all three. If anyone saw him right now, they'd probably think he was drunk.

Not that he cared. Today stripped him of any need to maintain a respectable image. Right now, he barely had the energy and wherewithal to stay upright, let alone appear functional. He just needed to make it to Steve's front door, three steps away.

On the bright side, he thought as he raised a shaking hand to knock, there was no way he could miss Steve now. It was literally impossible for him to be too late.

Footsteps sounded from inside the otherwise silent house and the lump that had laid dormant since missing Steve at the Governor's mansion reappeared to clog Danny's throat once more. Despite his admittedly erratic emotions throughout the day at the thought of this reunion, excitement bullied its way to the forefront and remained firmly planted as the victor in the epic battle of his emotions. Sure, he was still angry (the footsteps had stopped right in front of the door now), but there'd be more than enough time for that later.

As the door swung open, a smile rose unbidden to his face to greet - -

Lou Grover.

And yeah, his smile faltered a bit, but his anticipation only mounted. "Where's Steve?" he demanded in lieu of a greeting. "Is he out back?"

Lou's face morphed into that too-careful, sympathetic look he got when he had to tell a victim's loved ones of a tragedy. That look, now aimed in his direction, sent Danny's heart plummeting into his stomach. He stepped back, shaking his head. "No, Lou, no."

"Danny - -"

"Tell me," Danny choked, hands clenched into fists in a futile attempt to stop their shaking. "Tell me he's here, Lou. Tell me he didn't leave again."

"Danny, man, take a deep breath!"

Grabbing Danny's biceps, the bigger man yanked him into the house and closed the door behind them. Danny was too busy gulping air past throbbing ribs to notice the carry-on bag thrown in the middle of the living room until Lou pointed at it. "He's here, Danny, he's here! He's just upstairs sleeping 'cause he had a crazy long day. Now try to relax for me, alright?"

It took a few seconds for the words to register through the haze of panic, frustration, and a horde of other emotions Danny couldn't recognize. But eventually, Lou's message got through and Danny's shoulders sagged in relief. Breaking free from Lou's grasp, he started towards the stairs as fast as his aching body would allow.

Only for a hand to catch his wrist and yank him back.

"Let me go, Lou!" Danny tried to pull his hand away as a horde of fire ants attacked his skin from someone's hand making contact with that shackle scar on his wrist. His bullet wound pinged in discomfort, which only succeeded in frustrating him further. Still, he tried for a light tone as a small but genuine grin tugged at his cheeks. "I'm just going to see Steve. No need to make a federal case of it, alright? He's not gonna get mad if I wake him up to say hello."

However, Lou's grip only tightened as the man literally dragged Danny over to the couch. "Listen to me, okay? Steve's sleeping - he's out cold. After a day of traveling and shaking people's hands, he's absolutely exhausted and needs to rest. So I'm not gonna let you go upstairs and wake him up, okay?"

"You're not gonna let me?"

"No, I'm not gonna let you!" Though Lou kept his voice low, he still managed to put an awful lot of authority into the whispered shout. "Instead, I'm gonna drag your sorry ass to the hospital to get checked out, and you're not gonna fight me on it because I know you crashed your damn car and refused treatment - -"

"You know what? Go to hell! I'm not going to the hospital!' Danny growled, his voice rising to cut Lou off. The Chicago native, however, ignored him.

"- - and after you cooperate with the good doctors, you can come back and see Steve in the morning!"

The world seemed to quake beneath Danny's feet, an honest-to-God natural disaster that threatened to send him crashing to the ground. But Lou stood firm, unmoving amidst the tremors, which forced Danny to realize that the only thing shaking was himself.

"In the morning?" Choking past the lump-turned-boulder in his throat, Danny stopped fighting Lou's grip. "In the morning? Are you kidding me, Lou?"

The older man's eyes softened in sympathy and he brought his other hand to rest on Danny's shoulder, but the blond shook him off. Now, he knew what it was like to be the eye of the hurricane; a moment of quiet that was bordered by hysteria on all sides.

"The only thing that got me out of bed this morning - hell, this week - was knowing that my best friend was coming home today. That I would get to see him today. I chased him all over the island like some stupid scavenger hunt! And now, after all that, you're telling me I can't? That I gotta wait?" Danny jabbed a finger in Lou's face. "So everyone else on the entire freakin' island gets to see him, but I don't?"

Lou batted his hand away, his tone morphing into a tone that the father in Danny easily recognized. "Aw, c'mon, man. You know it's not like that. He'll be here tomorrow, okay?"

"Will he?" Danny shot back, no longer caring about the tears streaming down his face. "He had no problem leaving last time with no warning!"

And that was the key to it all, wasn't it? Deep down, a part of him firmly believed that if he didn't see Steve today, he might never see him again. Like with Matt, only different and maybe a little worse. Because Steve saw Danny hurting and spontaneously chose to leave anyway, chose to rid himself of the burden named Detective Danny Williams. And damn it all, Danny was still hurting - had been hurting for three months - and Steve didn't seem to care.

When Danny crossed oceans to find his hurting brother and bring him home, Steve crossed them to flee him.

And when Matt left, Danny still had Steve. The infuriating man refused to let him wallow in sorrow, always nearby to pull him out of his spiralling thoughts. He made sure Danny ate, slept, and bullied him into taking care of himself. When Matt died, Steve was glued to his side until after the funeral, only returning to Hawaii to give Danny some time alone with his family at Danny's behest.

But when Steve left, Danny had no one and ten extra years of shit ready to rain down on him. Alone and hurting - it could be the title of his autobiography.

Stifling an audible sob, Danny finally succeeded in ripping his hand free from Lou's grasp. He stared at the staircase through a curtain of tears before shaking his head and meeting Lou's gaze once more. "It's not fair, Lou. None of this, not one second of the last three freaking months."

Lou's eyes welled with tears too - an emotional guy, that Lou Grover - and Danny almost hated him for it. "Danny, Steve - -"

"No," Danny interrupted, finally releasing all of the joy and excitement he'd managed to conjure up this morning. "It doesn't matter anymore. I don't care."

With that statement of utter defeat, he spun on his heel and limped through the kitchen, out onto the laini, and down to the beach that held memories of barbecues, bonding, gunfights, and bombs. The adirondack chairs sat empty as they had for the past three months, inviting him to sit and rest his weary body and watch the sunset.

"Y'know, I've always taken sunsets for granted… mostly because I thought I'd see a million more. Just 'cause you see something every day doesn't make it any less special, huh?"

He resisted the call to rest in the chair, choosing to stand and grip the back of 'his' chair to stay upright as he stared at the horizon. The sunset was magnificent tonight, a vivid medley of the most vibrant colors the human eye could possibly hope to glimpse. Blue - transforming from cobalt to navy - dotted with sapphire clouds gave way to a deep, rich pink. And between that pink and the horizon ran a stripe of fiery orange, the sun's final salutation before dipping beneath the sea.

"But this is how I thought it would end for us," Steve's voice rose unbidden once more, whispered on the breeze, "a couple of old guys sittin' on the beach watching sunsets."

Yeah, he'd thought that too. Had dreamt about it even, the last time he'd gotten shot. Now here he was, standing on a beach with another bullet wound watching the most brilliant sunset he'd ever seen.

And you're not here with me.

That thought, that realization of a broken dream, made the vibrant colors of the sky blur like watercolors. As the sunset was lost amidst a veil of tears, he exhaled a shuddering breath. All those people who haunted his nightmares - Matt, Grace, Meka, Billy, even Chin, Kono, Rachel, Steve - shouted loud and clear that this was his fate. No matter what he did, how hard he tried, he was destined for this hollow feeling. This moment symbolized a horde of broken dreams.

Alone. Nothing but Danny Williams and a dozen ghosts of unbroken love remained.

He would've laughed if he could, or picked up one of those damn chairs and chucked it into the ocean. Instead, his head dropped to his chest as he embraced the rising tide of feelings he'd been fighting back all day.

What were you thinking? he scolded himself, biting his lip until it bled. It wasn't gonna be some epic reunion. There was never gonna be that conversation where you actually fixed all those broken pieces. He was never going to stay. Everything good in your life ends.

You know better.

Caught up in berating himself, he never heard the door squeak open. He did, however, hear it shut. Sniffling angrily, he violently scrubbed his eyes and started to turn around and give Lou a furious - -

"Danno?"

He froze.

Haff-turned with one hand still gripping the back of the chair, he didn't dare look towards the house lest all this be a mirage. Because today, life laughed gleefully as it kicked him to the dirt again and again and again. Surely this wasn't real. This was just another trick, another way to raise his fragmented hopes to smash them against the unforgiving rocks of reality. Surely not - -

"Danny? Hey, Danno?"

It came again, the tone more concerned than the previous call. And that looming presence that dominated every space it inhabited still remained, unflinching and unmoving and… uncertain?

Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny risked turning further to face the house. Breath exploded from his lungs, hope and cynicism battled it out inside him. He couldn't seem to pry his fingers from their death-grip on the back of the adirondack chair designated as his. That was real, he reminded himself as the peeling paint and rough wood pressed against his palm. These empty chairs were real, and that voice was - -

With his senses dialed to eleven, the sound of another soft footfall sent a shockwave rushing through him like someone just set off a firework next to his head. Unbidden, his eyes popped open and his gaze landed on a silhouette hovering just beyond the laini. His breath caught in his throat as he frantically blinked away residual tears to bring that shadow into focus in the diminishing light.

"Don't make me come lookin' for you."

He looked different than Danny thought he would, which was crazy considering the guy was only gone for three months. The facial hair was back - not the full beard that Danny long ago deemed as 'trauma beard' - too heavy to be deemed stubble but too short to be a beard. Likewise, his hair was shaggy, sticking up a little on one side, and sprinkled with a little more silver. His cargo pants were gone, clad in a pair of sweatpants and an ancient t-shirt instead. Without the gun and badge, he seemed lighter, like one less burden was pushing him down.

Shoulders sagged from weariness and hands dangling loosely by his sides, the former SEAL looked more relaxed than Danny had seen him in a long time, yet also… strangely tense.

Steve.

Swallowing thickly, Danny tried to stand up straighter, now hyper-aware of the cut on his temple and the dried blood on his face. He could feel Steve scanning him, noting his hunched posture and visibly diminished weight. Frozen to the spot, he waited - for a lecture, for a snarky comment, for the guy to take another step, something!

For once, Danny didn't have the energy to make the first move, not when apathy and doubt sapped away all his strength three months ago. Even the excitement, so dominant a little while ago, seemed to hold its breath in expectation.

Every last piece of the island turned towards the returning hero and waited for direction.

But it never came. Steve seemed just as stuck as he was.

In all the times he'd envisioned this reunion, Danny never imagined this. Screaming, sure. Maybe some tears, maybe some laughter. Joy appeared on the good days, rage on the bad ones. The setting changed often, anywhere from in the car to at the Palace to here on Steve's beach. He thought he'd metally conceived every possible outcome.

But Danny never expected silence. Or the two of them standing so far apart, completely stuck to their respective spots.

It lasted years, decades, centuries even - the two of them just standing there lost in this frozen moment of time staring at each other. Eventually, Steve broke the tableau, swallowing visibly in the fading light and taking another step forward. "Danno. Are you okay? Where have you been, buddy?"

The words, though practically a whisper, never sounded clearer to Danny. A thousand comebacks popped into his head, all of them cheap. No, this was a precious moment - long awaited and desperately hoped for - and careless words were far too costly. Gripping the chairback harder, he opened his mouth to say something, anything.

"Hey, Steve." Danny tried to smile, but it was too much. It was all too much for his throbbing head and screaming ribs and exhausted soul. Trembling like a leaf in brisk November wind, he begged his knees to hold his weight for just a little while longer.

A million different words stuck in his mouth - words of anger, sorrow, joy, love - but only two made it past his lips. "Welcome home."

Nice going, Williams. How much more cliche can you get?

But Steve smiled in that soft way that made the years disappear from his face. The former SEAL approached the chairs carefully with his eyes locked on the detective, stopping a couple yards in front of him. If Danny were to reach out his hand, his fingers would fall just short of touching Steve's chest. With the distance separating them still a tangible reality, a couple of yards might as well have been miles apart.

Lips still curled upward, Steve's gaze drifted from Danny's face to focus on the sunset, the sea, the sand, then back to his partner. "Yeah, thanks. It's, uh, it's good to be home."

There was a note of wonder in Steve's voice, a swelling melody of emotion Danny never heard before. Heart aching - longing for that rush of feeling something other than this mess inside him - he blurted out the most honest thing he'd dared to utter in the last three months… maybe longer.

"I missed you."

Choked and messy, the words lacked all that he thought he'd say in this moment. No eloquent waxing about Steve's idiocy, no declarations of the deep brotherly love he still held for this man. Just those four words - bent and tattered, vulnerable and honest, a declaration and a plea all at once.

"Admit it, Danny, you're gonna miss this when it's done."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'd never say it out loud."

Before he could react, Steve leapt forward, closing the gap between them in a graceless bound of desperation. And Danny found himself wrapped in strong, tattooed arms hugging him so fiercely that it stole his breath away.

Though they hugged many times - after a bomb nearly blew them both to smithereens, after escaping the collapsed building, after Danny nearly died from exposure to sarin - all those embraces failed to compare to the way Steve clutched him to his chest now. Overwhelmed and trembling, Danny could only bury his face in Steve's chest and return the hug as tears spilled from his eyes once more.

"I missed you too, pal," Steve murmured, his voice overflowing with emotion as his forehead came to rest on the crown of Danny's head. One hand crushed Danny against his chest and the other rose to rest on the back of his head. "Damn, I missed you too."

Any doubt Danny possibly harbored about the truth of Steve's declaration vanished when something warm and wet blossomed on Danny's head. Then Steve sniffled, and Danny broke.

Raw, gut-wrenching sobs erupted from his body, unending and uncontrollable. Gripping the back of Steve's t-shirt with every ounce of strength he had, he let loose a torrent of tears that he'd bottled up for three months. Numbing apathy at long last gave way to grief and hope, overpowering the shoddy dams he didn't even realize he'd constructed.

In the wake of that erupting flood, all he could do was try not to drown. His ribs shattered with every shuddering keen that mourned all that he and Steve had broken. All they had left to mend.

And Steve, that emotionally-stunted animal, only hugged him tighter and cried with him.

The gravity of this moment - two brothers weeping together to an audience of the setting sun - suddenly slammed into Danny so violently that his head spun. Fighting back the onslaught of nausea, the ache in his head returned with a vengeance unmatched by any attempt he made to push it away. As pain refused to be held at bay any longer, Danny's knees finally lost the battle to bear his weight.

"Steve - -" he managed to gasp just before his legs buckled.

"Whoa, what the hell? Danny!" Steve's voice was fading with the light of the setting sun, or was that all in his head? Strong arms cushioned his fall, but even the soft impact of his battered body against the ground sent fiery agony rocketing through his body. He cried out and squeezed his eyes shut, and in his last waking moment, he heard Steve yell for Lou before begging Danny to stay with him.

Then the world dissolved into darkness.

Chapter Text

Of all the places Steve wanted to see on his little homecoming tour, a hospital waiting room was nowhere on the list. In fact, it wasn't even in the filing cabinet. But even so, out of all of the waiting rooms and all of the reasons for his presence in it, this particular scenario fell completely off the deep end and into the cesspool of his nightmares.

You'd think a guy who'd been to the worst places in the world on ops - North Korea and Afghanistan to name a few - would have quite a few places on the top of his list of 'Places I Hate Most.' Steve only had one, and it won its spot by a landslide: the waiting room in King's medical center.

Specifically, the private one the receptionist immediately ushered them to anytime someone from Five-0 needed treatment.

"Man, did they paint this place since the last time we were here?"

Arms folded across his chest, Steve gave Lou a long-suffering glare long since perfected from ten years partnered with a rather infuriating Jersey detective.

Lou, however, remained utterly uncowed. "Just makin' conversation," he said innocently.

"Well, don't, alright?" Leaning forward in the uncomfortable, plastic chair, the former SEAL rested his head in his hands. "How on earth did this happen?"

"Gee, let me think." Lou's tone was bitingly sarcastic as he ticked reasons off one by one on his fingers. "He barely eats, barely sleeps, he's probably depressed, and he refused treatment after he managed to crash his car early today. Oh, and let's not forget that he got kidnapped and shot three months ago!"

"What are you saying, Lou? That this is my fault?" Steve sneered. "Well, go on! Say it! You're not gonna say anything I'm not already thinking!"

Jabbing a finger in Steve's direction, Lou sat up straighter in his own chair. "Uh uh, I ain't fueling your pity party! So shut it, McGarrett, because Danny doesn't need all of this right now!"

"No, you know what? You're right. What Danny needed was for you all to tell me that he decided to chase a perp and crash his car!" Hands waving in a very Danny-esque way, Steve words were born more from incredulity than anger. "Why would you keep something like that from me?"

Lou raised an eyebrow. "How would that help anything, or change what happened? No, seriously, McGarrett!" he cut Steve off from furiously interrupting. "I didn't know until after you fell asleep on my porch. So if I woke you up and told you right away, what would you have done, huh? Maybe you would've seen each other a little sooner, but the ensuing screaming match would've taken us right back here."

"But I could've - -"

"Could've what?" The Chicago native shook his head, his voice gentling. "This collapse was a long time coming, man. If it didn't happen tonight, it would've happened tomorrow or the day after that or something. You weren't gonna stop it."

Not fully accepting Lou's reassurance (which, if he really thought about it, wasn't all that reassuring), Steve reluctantly backed down. He remembered carrying Danny into the house while Lou called the ambulance and being utterly shocked at how light his friend felt. How, when he saw his partner in full light, the man's skin was practically gray, deep dark circles outlining his eye sockets. Car accident or no, Danny looked absolutely terrible.

"Should I have left?" Steve blurted out, regretting it as soon as the words escaped his lips. Wincing, he owned the honest question. "Three months ago… was it wrong? Should I have stayed and just, I don't know, dealt with stuff here?"

Lou didn't answer right away, which made Steve even more nervous for the verdict. Rubbing his chin, the older man hmmm-ed in thought before meeting Steve's worried gaze once more. "Look, I never liked 'what ifs' and 'should I, shouldn't I' questions. All you're gonna find is a whole lotta heartache. You can't go back and change anything, right? What's done is done, and the only thing you can decide is how to move forward."

"That doesn't answer my question, Lou."

Despite the rather exasperated eye-roll, the Chicago cop's reply was gentler than ever. "Now those are two different questions, Steve. Was it wrong of you to leave? I don't think so. You were a mess and didn't know how to cope and you finally decided to do something about it. That's not wrong, Steve."

Pausing, Lou made certain Steve met his gaze before continuing. "Should you have left? Maybe, maybe not. I mean, clearly it did some good. But I think the better question is should you have left when you did? To me, that's definitely a 'no.' Your boy just got outta the hospital, not to mention got kidnapped only a week before! Waiting another couple weeks wouldn't make too big of a difference for you, but it would've made a world of difference to Danny. We might not be here now if you waited."

Though the bigger man's tone was far from accusatory, Steve still rode the rising tidal wave of shame swelling in his gut. "Yeah, you're right. But with the guy nearly breaking his nose in my house and Mei kidnapping him... I thought leaving would stop all that. I just didn't want him to get hurt anymore because of me, you know?"

Lou hummed neutrally. "By leaving, you hurt him worse than any of your enemies ever could."

Like the anvil in those Roadrunner cartoons he loved so much as a kid, Lou's words slammed mercilessly into Steve and utterly flattened him. Not with guilt - though that seemed ever present since seeing his friend unconscious in a hospital bed three months ago - but with sorrow. See, guilt was selfish - focused only on the one who bore it and not the one hurt by an action.

Sorrow, on the other hand, was an act of relationship. Sorrow mourned all that was broken because of rash actions. Sorrow sought reconciliation while guilt played the pity violin.

"Commander McGarrett?"

At the sound of the young ER doctor's voice, Steve practically leapt from his chair to greet her. "Doc, how's my partner?"

The doctor who'd rushed to greet the stretcher that carried Danny through the hospital doors was young, shorter than even Danny, and had fiery red hair. Despite their rather frequent visits to this hospital - and thus overall familiarity with staff - Steve never met this specific doctor. A fact that he was beginning to realize he didn't particularly like. Over the years, he had learned to read the other staff of this fine establishment. However, this young doctor with a no-nonsense demeanor was completely stone-faced.

"Let's sit down," she said, motioning back to the chairs. At Steve's horrified look, she flapped a hand at him to shoo him back to his seat. "Sitting down doesn't mean bad news, Commander. It just means I stand all day long and I take the chance to sit when I can."

"Wise policy," Lou commented, plopping back into his chair with a grunt.

"Glad you appreciate it." She pulled up a chair and stared pointedly until Steve reluctantly sat down before continuing. "I'm Dr. Kate Mackey. Can't say I've ever had the pleasure of working with Five-0."

Lou snorted. "Pleasure? It ain't a pleasure at all. Welcome to hell, Doc."

"Can we please focus?" Steve begged, scrubbing his face. "Is Danny okay?"

"Cool your jets, turbo. Detective Williams isn't dying, alright? So let's talk like civilized people before I let you go running around my ER." Dr. Mackey smirked slightly, jabbing a finger in Steve's direction. "Think you can handle that?"

Steve rolled his eyes and pointedly settled a bit in his seat, the doctor's easy manner easing some of his apprehension.

Sobering, Dr. Mackey rested her elbows on her knees. "Okay, good news first. Detective Williams sustained no life-threatening injuries in that car accident you mentioned when you brought him in. Moderate concussion, three cracked ribs, one broken rib, cuts and bruises - including the laceration on his temple that required a couple stitches. X-rays showed that the ribs are all stable and in no danger of compromising his lungs. A CT scan of his skull showed no signs of a bleed, so that's also good. He'll be really sore for a while, but some pain meds and rest will have him right as rain."

Whooshing out a sigh of relief, Lou flashed his trademark grin. "Well, that's a relief. If he walked around all day bleedin' out inside, I was gonna whoop his ass into the middle of next week."

"So what's the bad news?" Steve asked, ignoring his friend's attempt to lighten the mood. "I'm guessing he didn't collapse because of the car accident?"

The doctor made a so-so motion with her hand. "Well, yes and no. Just because his injuries weren't life-threatening doesn't mean that he should've been walking around with them all day. He's honestly very lucky he didn't do more damage."

"But there's more, right?" This time, it was Lou who prodded the doctor.

She nodded. "Right. The bad news, as you put it, is that Detective Williams is malnourished, dehydrated, and presents every conceivable sign of severe exhaustion. That's why he collapsed; his body finally decided it'd had enough and quit. As a result, his vitals are crazy right now and we're working to stabilize them."

With that, Steve's heart plummeted to his stomach for the second time that night.

This is all my fault.

"So what does this mean?" he managed to choke out. "What kind of treatment are we looking at?"

For the first time since the conversation started, the confident doctor hesitated. Steve exchanged a worried look with the Chicago native, his knees beginning to bounce nervously as Dr. Mackey carefully replied, "Well, that depends on him… and you. We're giving him IV fluids and supplements, but his vitals are sluggish and he's still unresponsive. From the physical end, we're looking at a long term plan to get him back to equilibrium, most of which probably won't need to happen here in the hospital. But before coming over here, I looked over his file and I'm thinking this root problem of all this is primarily psychological."

Lou gave Steve a look that clearly warned him to keep his mouth shut and not blurt out the plethora of defensive comments that leapt to the tip of his tongue. "Can you elaborate on that, Doc?"

Frowning, Dr. Mackey opened her mouth, closed it, and tilted her head a bit in obvious bewilderment. "I mean, I'm no expert in psychology, but his file cited numerous traumatic incidents over the years that could definitely cause a reaction like this. The incident that led to several injuries three months ago might've been the straw that broke the camel's back." She raised both hands. "But again, I'm not an expert. He should definitely see one though for psychological evaluation at the very least."

Steve, arms folded across his chest, squeezed his biceps so hard that his fingernails made little crescent divots in the skin. After all that had happened in this incredibly long day, he couldn't stand to be apart from his brother any longer. Screw the guilt, screw the worry that Danny would only suffer because of Steve's presence in his life.

Because Danny was suffering now, damn it, and Steve couldn't help but believe that he alone was responsible no matter what Lou said.

"Can we see him? Please?"

He didn't even care that he sounded like he was begging. If that's what it took to be by Danny's side, he'd get on his knees and grovel more pathetically than anyone in the history of mankind.

Instead of being taken aback, the doctor smiled gently. "Well, it took you long enough to ask. Yes, you can see him. We can go over some other details when we're there."

The walk from their small waiting room through the crowded chaos of the ER was a blur for Steve. Following the confident Dr. Mackey, they wove through the mass of medical professionals with ease until they stopped in front of one of the bigger bays. The curtain was shut, but the doctor pulled it aside and motioned for the two men to enter.

Leading the way, Steve took two steps and froze so quickly that Lou nearly ran into him. He barely heard the bigger man's apology, eyes locked on the small figure lying limply on the utilitarian ER bed. Danny was flat on his back, a blanket pulled up to his belly button and no shirt so the doctors could easily examine him. With a nasal canal and IV in place and various monitoring equipment attached to his bare chest, it gave Steve a strange sense of dejavu. It was all too similar to a scene three months previously, only worse somehow.

Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the ER, Danny looked infinitely worse than he had in the dim lighting of the setting sun. Then again, Steve's euphoria from seeing his brother again prevented him from studying his partner's appearance. Now, with his previous blinding joy stripped away, Steve saw it all.

His skin was pale - almost grayish in pallor - and it made the harsh signs of his overall unwellness even more evident. Dark purple crescents beneath his eyes spoke of his weariness, the creases in his face more pronounced than Steve had ever seen them. Even unconscious, Danny seemed distressed.

The cut on his temple stood out, red crisscrossed with black thread standing out against the pale skin. Other little cuts - probably from the glass - stood out as well. A reddish-purple bruise surrounded the gash on his head, and that same combination of colors was splattered against his chest. Amidst it all, the three-month old bullet wound - with its red, painful-looking, ugly scar tissue - seemed to mock the former SEAL.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

No, the worst of it was everything else.

The worst was his jutting cheekbones, slicing against sallow, hollow cheeks. The worst was his skeletal hands, too thin and freezing to the touch when Steve clasped one with his own. The worst was seeing the distinct outline of every single rib and the divots between each one where healthy flesh used to occupy. Losing weight he couldn't afford to lose made the man look even smaller than before.

If Danny's plummeting mental health was ever in question, the proof laid in this frail image.

Steve didn't know how long he stood beside his friend in horror, hand carefully cradling Danny's limp one, until a warm hand startled him from his reverie.

Lou. Solemn, eyes full of immense sadness and firm resolve at the same time.

"Damn it," Steve whispered numbly, just now realizing that tears were streaming silently down his cheeks. "Lou, I did this."

"No." The Chicago cop, voice somehow grounded and yet chock-full of emotion. "No, Steve, this ain't all on you. We all let him down. We knew Danny was hurting and we could've done more - stayed with him, stepped in, bullied him into getting him help. But after two decades on the job and all he's been forced to endure, he would've hit the breaking point eventually - like you did. You didn't do this. You just… you just weren't there to help him through it."

Though the words did little to ease Steve's sorrow, they succeeded in strengthening Steve's resolve.

I will make this right, Danno. I swear.

"We'll wrap those ribs," Dr. Mackey spoke up. "As you can see, we already stitched his head. I also took the liberty of checking out some of those older wounds since his file said he never showed up for any of the follow-up appointments scheduled in the last month. Based on the swelling around his knee, I'd say he re-aggravated his ACL, though a stability check showed he didn't re-tear it. The entry and exit gunshot wounds are inflamed, but not worryingly so. His wrists seem to have healed well."

Though the doctor intended her words to be reassuring, Steve's gaze was pulled back to the grisly scar on the left side of his friend's chest. It seemed to mock him, each spidery tendril of scarring gloating in its triumph over Danny Williams. The scars on his wrists, twin rings of healed torn skin from metal shackles, joined the gleeful boasting of Danny's downfall.

If Steve dared to look closer, ten years worth of scars would smugly promulgate the role they played in breaking his brother. Round divots of pink skin dotted each of his upper arms from bullets and an arrow. Across from the newest scar was a slightly faded healed bullet wound located on the right-center of his chest. His stomach bore the scars of numerous stab wounds, and in the middle of them all ran a long, precise surgical scar from his sternum to his hip - the end hidden beneath the blanket.

Hand rising to rest on the matching scar on his own abdomen, Steve swallowed back yet another wave of grief.

"Does he have to stay here?" he blurted out, suddenly desperate to get his best friend out of his cold, sterile place. "I mean, I've got advanced medical training from the Navy. If he just needs to be monitored, I could do that at home."

Both Dr. Mackey and Lou stared at him like he'd lost his mind. Which, in all fairness, he probably had. Lou, however, beat the doctor to the punch. "Are you kidding me, McGarrett?" he nearly yelled. "You're tellin' me that, based on seeing your boy right now, you think he should go home? Please tell me you're joking!"

Steve turned his pleading gaze towards the young doctor, who only shrugged. "Hey, don't look at me. I think the big guy hit the nail on the head."

"Well, don't listen to him, alright? He doesn't know what he's talking about." Steve ignored the elbow to the spine from the disgruntled Chicago cop and focused entirely on the redhead doctor. "Look, you said that you thought this was linked to some mental health stuff, right? Well, I can promise you that his mental health is only gonna get worse if he wakes up here."

Dr. Mackey folded her arms, standing firm and unabashed against the formidable force of the SEAL's best puppy dog eyes. "That's irrelevant. Right now, his physical health is the priority. Your friend, to put it simply, had a nervous system failure. That's a compromise to one of the three critical systems, which means the other two - his circulatory system and his respiratory system - are at risk! Do you really want to get him home and have him stop breathing?"

"C'mon, Doc - -"

Her hands unfolded, slicing through the air in a very Danny-esque manner. "Let me put this simply so that even your hotshot Navy brain gets it. I am not going to compromise the wellbeing of my patient for the sake of his peace of mind, or yours. He needs to stay overnight so we can watch out for a potential bleed because of the hit on the head and so that we can stabilize his vitals. Is that too theoretical for you, or should I break out a whiteboard and make you write 'Doctors know best' 100 times?"

Steve could only stare, his previous argument shut down before it was even uttered. Nodding meekly, he ignored Lou's snicker and refocused on his still-unresponsive partner.

"Sorry," he finally said, hand reaching forward to brush against the shackle scar on Danny's wrist. "I'm just worried about my friend, alright? I want him to get better, so do what you gotta do."

Clearly suspicious of his easy surrender, Dr. Mackey nodded slowly. She looked from her patient, then back to Steve, and sighed. "Look, I know it's not what you wanted to hear. And I understand your point about Detective William's mental health."

Running a hand through her short, unkempt hair, she seemed to come to a decision. "Alright, listen up. I'm gonna go check with my superior and see if we can delay admitting him. If his vitals are consistently stable and he shows no signs of ICP, you can take him home in the morning provided that you closely monitor him. One hint of something wrong means he comes right back here, and I can call the whole thing off if I'm not totally sure he's up for it."

"Agreed." Steve's response was quick and firm, resulting in yet another fond eyeroll from Lou. "Thanks so much, Doc."

"Don't thank me yet. I still might change my mind." Taking note of her patient's vitals and appearance, she checked her watch. "Let me go check with my boss and then we'll find a better room for Detective Williams. Once he's settled, you guys can head home. I'll call you in the morning with the verdict."

This time, Lou didn't bother to muffle his snort. "Oh yeah, fat chance of that. This guy ain't leaving anytime soon."

Steve scowled at Lou but refrained from snapping at the man - the Chicago cop did have a point, after all. Shrugging sheepishly at the doctor, he glanced down at his partner once more. "Yeah, I'm not leaving him again, Dr. Mackey. So I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to work around me."

"What are you, married?" Throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation, Dr. Mackey spun on her heel and strode out the door with one final sarcastic comment. "He's not going to disappear if you take your eyes off him for two seconds, you know!"

Based on today's roller coaster of events, Steve strongly disagreed with that assessment. However, in the spirit of keeping his partner's doctor happy, he refrained from saying so.

On the other hand, Lou had no such qualms. "Boy, you better not blink. She's done jinxed it now. If you close your eyes, he's gonna teleport or something crazy like that."

"Has anyone told you that half of what you say makes no sense at all?"

"Now that's uncalled for." Lou sobered, coming up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the former SEAL. Both silently watched the ill man on the bed, each lost in their own thoughts of how they failed the once-unflappable Jersey detective. Eventually, Lou patted Steve's shoulder. "You okay?"

Nope.

"Sure," Steve said half-heartedly, fed up with heart-to-hearts with anyone other than his best friend for the day. "You can head home. I got this from here."

"You kicking me out, McGarrett?"

Mustering a small smirk - if only to get Lou out the door faster - Steve intentionally relaxed his stance. "Who, me? Nah. Just would hate for you to miss out on clean-up from that ohana spectacular that you decided to throw for me."

"Smartass." Stretching, the bigger man glanced at the clock on the wall. "I am gonna leave, but because I want to, alright? I'm not gonna wreck my back sleepin' in one of those stupid recliners. Plus, you need some alone time with your boy." He pulled out his phone. "I'll call Renee to come pick me up so you can drive my SUV. Just don't wreck it, alright?"

Releasing his hold on his partner, Steve extended a hand to Lou. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem. Keep me updated, okay? He may not be my brother-from-another-mother, but I love Danny too."

And though Lou left to call his wife, his words hung in the room for a long while after.

~H50~

Around one in the morning, Danny finally stirred.

True to her word, Dr. Mackey moved Danny into a quiet room with an actual hospital bed without having to admit him. How she managed that, Steve had no idea (well, he had some idea. The Governor might've been involved), but he was eternally grateful. Furthermore, a recent check revealed that the blond's vital signs were stabilizing from the IV fluids and whatnot. Still, he hadn't woken, something Dr. Mackey attributed to the concussion and catastrophic sleep debt Danny managed to accumulate over the last three months.

She told him not to worry. Steve worried anyway.

Sitting slumped in the recliner, Steve easily recognized the small signs of his partner's growing awareness: a soft groan, fingers twitching against his hand, face wrinkling briefly before smoothing out once more. Despite his dogged exhaustion throughout the day, the former SEAL had been incapable of sleeping and instead occupied himself with thinking about what he'd say to Danny when he finally woke. Now that the moment was finally here, all his rehearsed greetings fled from his mind as he leapt from his recliner.

Damn it all, but if Danny was going to wake up, Steve wanted to be the first thing his friend saw.

Squeezing Danny's hand to encourage the blond further into the waking world, Steve waited with baited breath for sight of cerulean blue eyes.

They weren't long in coming. Danny groaned once more, fingers curling around Steve's. Then, as his breath hitched, heavy eyelids cracked open and bleary blue eyes landed on the anxious SEAL's face.

"Hey, Danno," he whispered, unable to wipe the enormous grin from his face.

Blinking slowly, Danny was clearly not all there. Eyes barely focused on Steve, his eyes slipped closed before slowly opening once more. "Hey," he rasped back, voice cracked and wispy from disuse and soupy from exhaustion.

"It's good to see you awake, buddy. You spooked me big time." Maining his hold on Danny's hand, Steve sat on the bed beside Danny's hip. "How're you feeling?"

Danny's fingers twitched in Steve's. "M'kay," he whispered, coughing a bit as his voice rebelled against the effort of making words.

Wincing when Danny did, Steve grabbed the small cup of water on the bedside table and held the straw to Danny's lips. "Small sips, alright?" he cautioned. "You wanna try again and tell me how you actually feel?"

The injured man took a few greedy sips before Steve took the cup away. Placing the cup back on the table, Steve gently rubbed Danny's sternum with his free hand. It took everything in him to hold back a worried reaction from feeling every single rib beneath the rough cloth of the hospital gown.

Danny hummed at the touch, forehead now creased with pain that the cough awoke in his head and ribs. "St've?" he whispered so pleadingly that Steve's heart began to ache. The detective's eyes closed briefly before a light pat on his chest forced them open once more. "It h'rts."

Well, obviously. Steve got the feeling Danny would have a harder time telling him what didn't hurt than what did.

"Do you remember what happened?"

It took some time for Danny to answer, his brain obviously not up to full operational power. Eyes blinking open a bit more, the towhead's eyes roamed the room before landing back on Steve's face. "Was lookin'... lookin' f'r you all day," he slurred. "Always too late."

His eyes dropped closed just as Steve's prickled with tears. After Danny collapsed, Lou managed to get a full rundown of the day from Duke, Kono, and Adam, which he then relayed to the anxious SEAL trying to coax his partner awake. But now, hearing that short, barely comprehensible statement from his semi-conscious best friend - a sentence he fully expected to be about the car accident he'd endured earlier that day - Steve felt the full weight of the stitched-together story Lou told him.

Danny spent the day chasing Steve. All this time when Steve wondered if Danny even wanted to see him at all, Danny ran all over the island desperately trying to do just that. With broken ribs and a concussion, no less.

"Nah, buddy," he murmured, gently squeezing Danny's hand to reopen those sky-blue eyes, "you were right on time."

Danny only blinked owlishly at that, eyelids at half-mast as he battled sleep's siren call. And despite Steve's desire to keep his friend awake and talking to him, he couldn't deny the man something he so desperately needed. Finding the call button, he pressed it and resettled his hand on Danny's chest.

"St've?" Danny's voice was fading, clinging to consciousness even as his body slowly slipped into Morpheous's realm. "I kn'w… know 's jus' a dream. But c'me back home soon, 'kay? I won' be mad, promise."

And before Steve could possibly process that plea, Danny's forehead smoothed as the injured detective fell asleep once more. Though his hand went limp in Steve's, the former SEAL still clung to it like a lifeline in the midst of the raging sea.

He swallowed, then leaned forward and gently kissed his brother's forehead. "I'm home, Danno. I'm home."

~H50~

"This is a terrible idea."

Rubbing his seemingly sand-filled eyes, Steve decided that he was far too tired to utilize politeness. A night of no sleep after a day of traveling across time zones pushed his already taxed endurance to the limit. As his energy levels decreased, unfortunately so did his politeness. Danny always joked that he was a Neanderthal Animal, so why not live up to the reputation?

"Look, you said that if his vitals improved and held steady - which they have - and if everything stayed within normal ranges, you'd send him home this morning. I thought that was the whole point of not admitting him."

Dr. Mackey folded her arms and glowered at him. "I said I'd consider sending him home, and I'm pretty sure I also said that I could change my mind whenever I wanted. You really wanna do this with me right now, McGarrett?"

Damn, she was really determined to convince Steve that redheads didn't have souls, wasn't she?

Gritting his teeth, he shot a glance at his still-sleeping partner before turning his full, intimidating glare back on the doctor. "I can do this all day, Doc," he hissed. "Keeping him here does nothing - you're just gonna monitor him. There's nothing you can do here that I can't do at home, where he'll be far more comfortable."

"Except give him IV fluids and nutrients and manage his pain. Oh, and let's not forget that if things take a turn for the worse, help is seconds away!"

That got Steve's attention. Posture stiffening, his anger turned into concern in the blink of an eye. "Why do you say that? I thought he was fine… showing no signs of a bleed or anything. Is there something wrong?"

Dr. Mackey continued glaring at him for a moment before relaxing her own posture and looking over to her patient. "No," she sighed, "he's doing alright. But that doesn't mean that he's free and clear! We're still in that 24 hour window of monitoring his injuries - especially his head - before he's completely out of danger. Not to mention the other issues."

"You said those wouldn't be taken care of here."

Rolling her eyes, the young doctor waited a moment before answering. "Right, but we can at least address them in a controlled environment. Look, I'm just trying to do what's best for your friend."

As if Danny could sense the two talking about him, his head rolled on the pillow and a soft whimper escaped through his lips. Both Dr. Mackey and Steve leapt to his bedside - Steve scooping up his hand while the doctor checked the readouts on the monitor. But Danny never progressed to that half-awake state he'd reached a few times throughout the course of the long night - moments that Dr. Mackey warned that he might not remember. Instead, after another quiet whimper, he settled right back to sleep.

With the drawn-out sigh of a completely exhausted man, Steve patted his partner's limp hand and turned his attention back to the doctor. "I know, Doc, and so am I. Seriously, I wouldn't be suggesting this if I didn't know for sure that it was a good idea."

Gaze still skeptical, Dr. Mackey waited a beat before throwing both her hands in the air. "Fine, sure, go ahead, just completely disregard my advice. Y'know, normally I'd fight you on this, but then you'd just call your friend the Governor and I'd end up doing exactly what you want anyway."

"Thanks, Doc."

"Not so fast, turbo. There are ground rules, and if you don't follow them to the letter, I'll make sure your next hospital stay is as unpleasant as humanly possible." Waiting until Steve dutifully nodded, she began ticking the rules off on her fingers. "First, let him sleep. He's gotta rest, and if he refuses to rest, sit on him or drug him."

"Right, because that's gotta be wonderful for Danny's wellbeing."

Rolling her eyes, the doctor began removing Danny's IV. "I can literally see his entire eye socket. Make him rest; I honestly don't care how you do it." Stemming the blood from the puncture wound from the IV, she continued her list. "Second, he needs to eat and stay hydrated, but he's probably not going to be able to stomach much. The trick is small meals with light food every couple hours. Don't push him to eat more than he can stomach, but at least make him eat a little and drink a full glass of water."

"Any restrictions?"

"Like I said, avoid heavy, rich, greasy foods to start. He won't be able to handle it." Straightening, the doctor checked her watch. "Make sure you manage his pain levels. No strenuous activity, even if he's claiming to be fine. Something tells me he's bad at recovering, so try to keep the excitement to a minimum."

Steve chuckled. "You have no idea."

Smirking back, Dr. Mackey reached into the pocket of her lab coat. "Call me if anything seems even remotely off. I'll make sure to get your address on the way out, and I'll stop by tonight to make sure everything's as it should be."

Nodding, Steve accepted the card. "We'll be staying at his place, and it's probably written in his file somewhere." He shifted awkwardly, eyes once again landing on Danny's slumbering form. "I think it'd be better if he wakes up at home in his own bed rather than in my dusty guest room."

"Whatever floats your boat." Dr. Mackey yawned, then stared him down so fiercely that Steve once again revisited the 'do redheads have souls' debate. "I mean it, McGarrett - follow those rules. My big brother's in the military and I have no problem kicking his ass - you shouldn't be much of a challenge either. So consider this an order from your superior officer, got it?"

With a mixture of humility and amusement, Steve nodded obediently. Huffing, Dr. Mackey headed out the door - no doubt in search of a wheelchair for Danny. The room grew silent once more and Steve sighed. "No excitement, huh? Fat chance of that."

Little did he know just how true that would be.

Chapter Text

The first thing Danny became aware of through the haze of the semi-conscious world was pain.

It wasn't bad at all, but it was worse than normal. Considering that he's woken up in pain every day for the past three months, he shouldn't be surprised by the sensation. However, the increase in discomfort was a bit… concerning, something he'd rather not think about. If he ignored it, he'd put off an inevitable trip to the hospital a little while longer.

The second thing to intrude upon his consciousness was the recognition that he felt… almost well-rested? Well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. He felt as though he'd slept the whole night through, although he certainly could use much more sleep than one night of good rest. Still, a night of uninterrupted sleep was worthy of celebration.

Only, the more he thought about it, the more he doubted that his sleep had been as undisturbed as he initially thought. Vague images flitted through his mind - a sunset, a hospital room, a redhead in a white lab coat, someone practically lifting him into a car, and…

Steve.

Suddenly wide awake, Danny's eyes popped open and he sat bolt upright in bed. Instantly, the dull discomfort became a foghorn of fiery agony that ripped through his ribs and split his head in two. Panting and slamming his eyes shut, Danny curled forward and hugged his knees until the pain subsided to a mere throbbing.

Cautiously, he blinked his eyes open once more and took in his surroundings. Daylight streamed through the cracks in his blinds, illuminating the space around him. He was in a bedroom… his bedroom, stretched out on his own bed in a pair of sweatpants with his blankets bunched at his waist. And he had no idea how he'd gotten there.

Struggling to think through the pounding gong in his head, he desperately tried to grasp the last thing he clearly remembered. He recalled waking up the day before, working in the morning, then heading off to the airport to meet Steve - -

Oh, right. He zoned out during a car chase and accidentally crashed his car. That would explain his aching ribs and pounding headache. Unable to resist the temptation, his fingers brushed against the cut on his temple and discovered the unforgiving sensation of several stitches.

Huh, so the hospital wasn't a figment of his imagination at least. But he could've sworn…

Frustration mounting, he shoved his confusion and growing headache aside and clenched his hands into fists. He remembered Duke, Kono, Adam, and Junior all trying to help as he was late time and again, offering reassuring words that fell on deaf ears. He'd gone to Steve's house, watched the sunset on the beach when Lou prevented Danny from waking up the exhausted SEAL.

But then, Steve was there… right? They'd spoken, embraced even, before everything got fuzzy. However, if Steve had really been there, why was Danny here? Any other time Danny was injured, Steve practically forced him into the McGarrett home for the requisite recovery period. Even beyond that, what doctor in their right mind would let him out of the hospital after less than a day of being there? One look at him demanded an extended stay… possibly in a psych ward.

Groaning, Danny managed to push himself out of bed and stand up semi-straight, wobbling as his head spun from both the concussion and below-optimal blood sugar. A quick pit-stop in the en-suite bathroom ended up taking longer than he thought as a glance in the mirror froze him to the spot. Mezmorized, he stared at the deep purple bruising spanning across his ribs, the puffy bullet scar above it, and the ugly cut on his temple crowning it all.

Damn, I look bad.

After breaking away from the image, the towhead carefully padded down the hallway, checking every room as he went. Everything was exactly as he left it and that realization only made the lump in his throat expand with each room he cleared.

It felt as though it took hours to make it to the main living space, the living room ahead of him with the dining room to his left and the kitchen out of view. With every step, the silence shook him to the bones. It seemed so wrong - out of place - because if Steve was home, he would be here.

Wouldn't he?

But here Danny stood, alone in the silent, untouched living room. The blanket he kept on the couch was still folded across the top, the spare pillows Steve would've used nowhere in sight. Everything was just as he left it the day before.

His hands were shaking again, he realized distantly as his vision grayed out. It was difficult for any sensation to register over the blood roaring in his ears. Heartbeat amplified until it utterly consumed all of his senses, his chest could barely contain it from leaping outside his body and galloping away. Breathing hurt, so much so that he wasn't entirely sure if it would be better to just stop altogether.

Ironic, wasn't it? The things keeping him alive hurt the most. And the crazy thing was that he had no idea what was happening or why. All he knew was that out of all of his close encounters with death, this physical reaction felt a million times worse then all of them combined.

Behind it all, he heard that obnoxious mental voice taunt him as he gasped for air. Coward, clingy, weak, burden, it sneered. Rachel, Matt, Steve. You know why they all leave? Because you. are. pathetic.

And he couldn't even deny it.

So there Danny Williams stood, trembling away in his quiet house and completely normal living room, and slowly died.

Until a hand landed on his bare shoulder and a frantic voice pleaded with him to stay with him, to breathe.

He never heard the door open, never heard the flurry of curse words, never heard the crash of a half-dozen full grocery bags dropping carelessly to the floor. That touch was the first thing he managed to process outside of his rebelling body. When it finally wiggled its way through his misfiring mind, he flinched violently and reacted entirely on instinct.

In other words, he threw a punch. Why wouldn't he? His luck hadn't exactly been the best lately - especially with unknown beings invading his space. It made perfect sense.

The satisfying crack of his knuckles against flesh and the pained yelp that followed completely overshadowed the shooting agony that consumed his injured body at the violent move. Immediately, two strong hands clasped his wrists, restraining any further action he might take against this invader.

That move was all too familiar to Danny in all the wrong ways. Yanking against the hold, his scattered brain refused to connect to the rest of his body to put up a good fight. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and brace for the inevitable blows.

With a hood covering his face, Danny stumbled blindly on as rough shoves were the only thing guiding him. His hands had been tied behind his back the instant they'd gotten him into the backseat, leaving him unbalanced and completely defenseless. One particularly hard shove nearly sent him headfirst down a flight of stairs, but an unforgiving grip on the back of his collar saved him from that rather painful landing.

Not that he had managed to avoid pain altogether. His captors, whoever they were, lacked any sort of sense of humor, nor did they appreciate his particular brand of sarcasm. After receiving one too many punches as retribution for his snarky remarks, Danny deemed it wiser to stay somewhat silent for the duration of the journey.

But now, they'd finally arrived at their destination and Danny was less than pleased about that particular fact. His captors had knocked him to his knees, hood still obscuring his sight, and he waited with fear coiling in his gut for what came next.

He didn't have to wait long. Heels clicked against the concrete, then an accented, female voice broke their strange standoff. "You know what to do."

Instantly, two humongous hands encased his wrists above the rope as the restraints were cut away. Danny immediately tried to fight and earned himself a kick to the stomach for his effort. Winded, he couldn't do a blessed thing as he was lifted to his feet. Someone wrenched his arms upward, and the squeezing hands were replaced by cold, steel fetters. Only then, after he was left hanging by his wrists, did the hands let go and the hood get removed.

Squinting against the resurgence of light, he spotted four blurred figures. Henchmen, no doubt. He licked his lips and braced himself, knowing exactly what was coming next.

"Ah, see, now I get it," he snarked, shoving his fear away. "Y'know, it's okay that you're ugly. You didn't have to kidnap the best lookin' guy on the island just to move yourselves up in the rankings. 'Course, you've got a lot more people to mow through before you even make the top 50, so you might wanna - -"

A fist to the face silenced him, and the blows came so quickly after that he could barely gasp in half a breath. As the pain overwhelmed his senses, the only constant was the cold metal digging into his wrists.

"DANNY!"

The previous voice - which somehow had grown more frantic - broke through the haze, and the combination of surprise and recognition was enough to pop his eyes open.

Steve's worried face filled his entire field of vision, his best friend completely in his airspace in every sense. It was Steve's hands holding his wrists, Steve's voice that penetrated his panicked fog, Steve's face he'd punched.

Oh.

The former SEAL didn't seem to notice the trickle of blood dripping from the corner of his lip, every ounce of his attention focused on Danny. Grip easing somewhat, he kept his hands wrapped around Danny's wrists - unknowingly placing them exactly where those shackles once clamped against his skin. He visibly relaxed when Danny's eyes met his, though his eyes were still wide with worry.

"There you are," he breathed. "Easy, Danno, easy. It's just me, alright?"

Unable to react, Danny gulped in oxygen like it was a limited commodity while his head swam. His entire body throbbed mercilessly, screaming to be heard amidst the klaxon of panic he was incapable of tamping down. All he could do was silently shake while Steve softly soothed his galloping heart back to a normal rhythm.

And suddenly, raw fury arose amidst the relentless pain to fill the void the panic left as it ebbed away. Who in the hell did Steve think he was, galivanting in and out of Danny's life as he so chose? Hell, the man waltzed into his house like he owned the place! Nevermind that he'd apparently dropped him off here alone after his release from the hospital - the true offense began three months previously.

Because no matter how many times Danny said he was fine, he hadn't been since Steve decided to flee the island two days after he got out of the hospital.

The genuine concern in his partner's eyes as he coached Danny through breathing only increased Danny's simmering rage. Like he told Kono at the airport the day before, Steve lost the right to worry about his health when he chose to walk away… maybe because his actions showed just how little he seemed to care about Danny's wellbeing.

A small voice in his head whispered that it wasn't true - that Steve cared deeply and always had - but the tidal wave of bitterness and ire drowned it out. He was still shaking, still breathing hard, but the panic that froze him to the spot was long gone.

For the past three months, everyone looked at him like he was either going to shatter or explode and he hated to disappoint. If only they were here now to watch the show.

Steve was still standing close, gently holding Danny's trembling wrists. "There you go, buddy, you're doin' good. Can you tell me what happened?"

Nearly choking on rage, Danny yanked his hands free of Steve's grasp. "Get the hell away from me!" he growled through gritted teeth. "Now!"

Hurt bled into Steve's expression, though he instantly complied with Danny's request. Taking a step back, he kept his eyes glued on Danny's face with a mixture of worry and confusion and - was that fear? - flitting across his own face. "Danny?" he asked so carefully that Danny barely resisted the urge to punch the man again. "What's goin' on, huh? You okay?"

"No." Danny's voice was cold, cutting, and dangerously quiet - the calm before the storm. "No, see, you don't get to ask me that. Not when you drag me home from the hospital only to up and leave me like I'm some schmuck you got an obligation towards. Alright?"

Steve's mouth formed a silent 'oh,' his expression smoothing slightly. "I didn't just leave you here," he defended himself. "When I brought you home, I checked your fridge because you gotta eat, pal. But you had squat in the way of food, so I called Junior and asked him to pick some stuff up." He gestured back towards the groceries Danny could now see spilled in the entryway. "I ducked out to grab the food from him - I was just in the driveway. I didn't want to wake you up by having other people barge in here."

If smoke could come out of Danny's ears, he would've set off every smoke alarm in the neighborhood.

"What the hell, Steven! You seriously think I'm talkin' about you leaving this morning? Y'know, for a supposed Navy SEAL legend, you might be the most dense person on planet Earth!"

"Whoa, take it easy - - !"

"Shut! Up!" Danny yelled, not caring about the fire slowly burning his ribs. "Did you not hear a word I just said? You don't get to do that anymore! You don't have the right to speak into my life anymore! You lost any semblance of - of privilege to say one word or care or worry when you decided it was okay to leave me in a chair on your beach three months ago so you could go galavanting around the world!"

Steve's expression hardened, his own anger now taking the stage as he reached up and roughly wiped away the blood from his lip. "Galavanting around the world? You think this was some kind of vacation or something? You have no idea what you're talking about, Daniel! I left to - -"

"- - to find peace, riiiiight." Danny's biting sarcasm was accompanied by a harsh laugh and waving hands. "Feed that bullshit to someone else, alright? You didn't leave because you wanted peace. You ran away!"

"I did not run." Steve's voice dropped to a dangerous octave, hands clenching and unclenching. "I left because I wanted to sort through the steaming pile of flaming crap of my life, alright? I wanted to face my demons in an environment where I wasn't reminded of them every two seconds!"

"Yeah, news flash: that's called running!"

"No, you wanna know what 'running' looks like? Try crashing your car, getting hurt, and not telling anyone about it! That, my friend, is running! You don't get to say a damn thing about my choices when you go do stupid stuff like that!"

Danny laughed harshly. "Seriously? You're gonna lecture me now? Last I checked, you did that all the time! You want me to list the examples alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of severity? Because we've got the whole liver thing, radiation poisoning - -"

"Go to hell, Danny!"

"I already did!"

Silence reigned, the eye of the hurricane that left both men standing red-faced and panting from the effort of flinging emotions at one another.

Rage still seeped through Danny's voice, the undiluted fury refusing to relent until it ran its course. "I already did," he repeated, his voice dripping with contempt. "Or didn't you notice? Your freakin' nemesis's wife kidnapped me and had her goons string me up and use me as a punching bag. Then I got shot. And then, I had to watch my best friend run away from me when I was too weak to stand up on my own. I had to deal with all that alone. And you know what? I relived it over and over and over again! Not just that, but everything."

Silence. Emotions warred on Steve's face before anger took over once more.

"Oh, come off it," Steve sneered. "You're not the only one with ghosts, Danny. Everywhere I go on this island I see a gunfight, a chase, a dead body, or my screwed up parents! I mentioned leaving, and you seemed fine with it! How self-absorbed can you be to think that I was leaving because of you?"

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you couldn't look me in the eye when you said goodbye? Or maybe it was the way you packed your bags before I even got home from the hospital! It's like you didn't even want to be around me! Like I was some burden!"

"That's not true! I had to leave." At least Steve wasn't shouting anymore, their screaming match only ramping up his headache. But the guilt in his voice that lurked behind the defensive stance was the perfect foil to the anger still sparking in the air. "You got hurt because of me, almost died because of me. I'm not gonna let you die and leave your kids without a father for my family's vendetta, but everyone keeps coming after you. I can't have another death on my conscience."

"So that's all I am - another tally mark on your self-blame list?"

Danny was slumped against the wall now, his body protesting the energy expenditure from the combination of fighting with Steve and, well, standing. Despite their ongoing argument - one that was finally getting beyond the anger and to the heart of the issue - Steve cautiously stepped back into his personal space and slid an arm under Danny's shoulders.

"C'mon, you oughta sit down," he said, his voice still tinged with a touch of anger. "The doctor wasn't real keen on me springing you from the hospital, and I'm beginning to wonder if this was a mistake. You need rest and food and pain meds. We'll finish this discussion later when you don't look like you're gonna keel over."

Sighing, Danny allowed him to support his weight and guide him to the couch. A groan rose unbidden from his lips when Steve lowered him to the cushions. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around his ribs and dropped his head to his chest, eyes closed. This was all too much for him, more than he'd dealt with in months.

Two fingers found the pulse on his wrist, brushing against his shackle scar and sending a shiver down his spine. "It's fine. Leave it alone."

"It's really not." Worry crept back into Steve's voice, barely hidden beneath a nonchalant facade. "Look, I get that you want me staying out of your health or whatever, but I had to literally pick you up off the floor last night after you collapsed for about ten different reasons. Can you just level with me for a second and tell me how you're feeling?"

And though the SEAL wasn't asking for it, the honest answer sprang unbidden to his lips.

"I'm tired, Steve." Danny's voice broke, exhaustion and misery lacing every word. "I'm tired of chasing after you every time you run from your ghosts. I'm tired of waiting for you to come back and talk to me - because that's the obvious freaking solution that you're too damned stubborn to see. If you talked to me, I could help you fix it, but you refuse to talk. You refuse to listen. And I'm so damn tired of dealing with all this shit alone."

"Danny…" Steve started, eyes widening.

"Just stop, please," Danny pleaded, hanging his head even lower to hide the tears freely sliding down his cheeks from his best friend. "You talk so much about ohana. Anytime someone needs you, you're there in a heartbeat. Duke's gonna get fired from the force? You're at his house every day. Adam's going through a divorce? You give him a damn badge and a purpose. But what about me, Steve? Huh? What about me?"

Steve bit his lip, tears now welling in his eyes but stubbornly refused to fall. He stayed silent against Danny's demand, as though Danny's confession deserved a solo spotlight on a stage in an empty, darkened stadium. The sole focus, echoing in immense space.

"I needed you! You promised," Danny swallowed, forcing his tone to stay steady. "You promised me that you'd be there for me because I was ohana. You called me your brother. You said I wasn't as alone on this island as I thought I was. I thought all that crap meant something! But you left me when I was beat up and broken and alone! You weren't there!"

He didn't know if he felt better or worse when Steve said nothing in response to that. Unable to see the man through the curtain of furious, anguished tears, he wondered if this was it - the moment where Steve finally gave up on the infuriating Danny Williams. The moment where he regretted the promise he'd made to Danny all those years ago when life hadn't broken them down yet.

And when Steve rose from the couch a moment later and walked away, it all but confirmed Danny's theory.

Everyone leaves, that pessimistic voice in his head that Steve worked so hard to silence murmured. The last vestiges of anger drained away, leaving nothing but despair and creeping numbness in its wake. Nothing lasts forever.

But he heard Steve's footsteps pad across the floor a couple minutes later and stop in front of him. He felt more than saw the SEAL lower himself to sit on the coffee table facing him, knees knocking gently against Danny's. Stubbornly wiping away tears that refused to be contained, Danny stared down at his feet and waited for the verdict.

A hand gently slipped beneath his chin, guiding it up so he had to meet his partner's gaze. Sorrow lined Steve's features - evident in red-rimmed eyes and tear-tracked cheeks - alongside something that looked an awful lot like resolve as he handed Danny a glass of water.

"Drink, buddy." Once he was sure Danny had a good hold on the glass, he let go and both hands dropped to his lap. "Drink that and just listen, alright? I was gonna wait until you were feeling better, but there's - there's something important I gotta say."

He waited until Danny took a sip before he began, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and nervously meeting Danny's gaze. "Getting away gave me time to think and figure out what's important to me. All my life, I've had the same role - the protector, the good guy, the one people call on when they're out of options. And don't get me wrong, I like being that guy, but in the past year, I came to a realization."

"Yeah?" Danny asked, bitterness leaving an odd aftertaste in his mouth.

Steve ignored his tone, his expression as open as Danny had ever seen it. "Yeah, Danny. I realized that in all my efforts to defend and protect this island and this country, I hadn't been protecting myself. And what's worse, I always failed to protect the people I cared about the most. My dad, Freddy, Joe, even Doris… and you."

"'M still here, in case you hadn't noticed. Wouldn't exactly call that failure."

Steve's gaze softened, lowering to rest on the twisted, puffy bullet wound scar on the left side of Danny's bare chest. "I would," he whispered. He didn't need to explain further.

Suddenly self-conscious, Danny hunched his shoulders and broke eye contact with Steve. "So, what? None of that was your fault, Steve, but do you think leaving made that better?"

"I wasn't abandoning you… that was never my intention." Steve paused, careful breaths filling the space where words once occupied. When he finally spoke again, his voice was unyielding, certain, and yet twisted by something Danny was too worn to decipher. "This job, this island, my house even… everything just pressed in on me and sucked all the good stuff from my life. I couldn't sleep, I doubted my instincts - it wasn't healthy and I knew it and it wasn't going to get better here. So I'm not sorry that I left, Danny. For once in my life, I did the thing that was best for me, the thing that I needed."

"I know, I know you did. And I understood and I wanted that for you!" Bullet wound throbbing, Danny put pressure on it with trembling fingers. "Like I promised, I have your back, always. But when you walked into my hospital room and told me that you were booked on a flight that left in three days, you didn't have mine."

Broken promises. Really, that was the heart of this whole issue.

"Danny - -"

"No, Steve! I thought we were brothers, but all along, you made me seem like nothing more than a burden!"

"No, what? Of course you're not - - you were never an obligation or a burden, Danno."

Panting, Danny shook his head and squeezed his hands into fists as the only constant in his life these past three months - a lonely torturous thought - slipped out his mouth. "It doesn't matter, y'know - this whole heart-to-heart. You're still going to leave again in a few days, and no matter how many times I tell myself it's fine, it's not. It won't ever be. So go find your peace, Steve - you deserve that and I understand. Just don't come back here pretending to care, alright?"

"Danny, stop."

His hands were shaking again - had they even stopped? - but rough, calloused skin came to rest on them, stilling the uncontrollable motion. Daring to meet Steve's steady gaze, Danny swallowed when he spotted a well of tears resting unshed in his partner's eyes. Despite his visibly whirling emotions, the SEAL's voice remained calm and steady.

"This kind of stuff has always been… hard for me to say and I certainly don't say it enough. But I care, Danno, I care deeply about you and I always will. You're my brother and I love you."

A lone tear trickled down his face, glinting mesmerizingly in the morning light, but Steve made no move to wipe it away. "While I'm not sorry I left, I am so, so sorry that I left when I did. I should've waited until you were back on your feet, should've discussed it more with you and explained what I hoped to accomplish through all of it. There are a lot of things I wish I'd done differently, and you deserve so much more than an apology. I understand if you even hate me for how I handled things, but please," deep breath, in and out, "please forgive me."

Shaking his head, Danny bit his bottom lip and fought the confession that threatened to escape. But the bitter magnificence of having his best friend sitting in front of him ultimately shattered his walls. They were laying everything out on the table, he reasoned, so time to show his cards.

"I don't hate you, y'know. I never did, no matter how mad I was." Hands bunching the material of his sweatpants, he forced himself to continue looking Steve in the eye, to not drop his gaze. "I'm cursed, I think. D'you know that when I got shot in quarantine, I had a bunch of crazy dreams about my future? And in one of them, it was you and me on your beach - old as dirt, deaf, balding, the works. Something about it…"

Swallowing, he stopped fighting the urge to look away from Steve. Silence reigned, the words sticking in his throat despite his best efforts to cough them up.

When they finally came - broken and all right angles - he felt as though he held the shattered pieces of all his hopes in his hands. "It was something to hold onto, something to work towards. No matter what came our way, I could plan on that dream." He snorted wetly. "Crazy, right? Believin' in a dream induced by blood loss."

Steve's hands released his, and before Danny could overthink the move, something smooth, cold, and hard landed in his lap. Confused, he studied the odd-shaped glass thing Steve plunked in his grasp.

It didn't take long for him to recognize it as an award plaque - like the ones he sometimes saw in a private doctor's office - but he still failed to comprehend why his Neanderthal partner would drop this in his lap. Befuddled and perhaps a bit hurt, Danny glanced back up at Steve, who was looking at him with such determination that Danny found himself studying the plaque more carefully.

That's when he saw the inscription.

This Award is present to Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett

Puʻuwai wiwo ʻole o Hawaiʻi

for exemplary acts of Heroism and Sacrifice in his 10 Years of Service to Hawai'i and her people

Mahalo nui loa iā 'oe

So, it was the award the Governor gave Steve, though that didn't answer any of Danny's questions. His Hawaiian still wasn't the best, even after ten years of living here. Still, between Grace and Charlie and his native-born teammates, he'd managed to pick up a little. That last line was thank you very much, but the middle line had him completely stumped.

"Fearless heart of Hawaii." Steve, as always, read his mind and filled in the gaps. His voice held an odd note, one that Danny didn't have the energy to read. "Though sometimes people use pu'uwai to mean protector, but that's only in certain dialects."

Which still clarified absolutely nothing.

"I don't get it." Anger snuck back into his voice. "I mean, seriously, Steve? I poured my heart and soul out to you! Why'd you give me this?"

Still sitting on the coffee table, Steve leaned forward and tapped the plaque. "Because the entire reason I was able to do the things that earned this plaque was because of you. You pulled me back from the brink, you kept me sane, you came for me when I needed you… you were my backup. I only got this because you kept your promise to have my back, alright? So I'm givin' this to you as a promise that, from here on out, I'll always have yours. Plan on this, Danno. I won't ever let you down again."

He said the words with such conviction - such ferocity - that Danny wholeheartedly believed them. This wasn't some passing assurance, it was a vow made by Commander Steve McGarrett.

A man who, come hell or high water, would do everything imaginable to keep it.

But still, doubt lingered - rooted in fear and self-deprecation. Seeking reassurance, Danny's hands curled around the plaque and locked his gaze on sea green eyes. "You promise, huh?" he asked, his tone sarcastic but the question behind it anything but.

You promise I'm not a burden?

You promise to have my back?

You promise to forgive me for my failings too?

You promise to not abandon me again?

Steve seemed to read it all, breaking down the shoddy screen of snark to glimpse the true meaning. "Yeah, Danno," he said firmly, hands coming to rest on top of Danny's once more, "I promise. I won't let you down."

The words, repeated with such certainty, slammed into Danny like a knockout punch. They sent him reeling, completely dispelling the anger and fear and doubt he'd harbored for so long. Though they still had a lot to work through - Danny's failings as a friend and brother chief among those issues - they'd taken the first necessary step. Steve had promised, and for now, that was enough.

Plan on this, he'd said.

So Danny did.

Without any sort of drama or ceremony, Danny simply tipped forward and rested his forehead on Steve's shoulder. Then the tears came, silent but no less heartfelt as he clutched the glass plaque against his stomach. And Steve - the half-baked cookie Danny had come to know and love - released his hands and wrapped his arms around Danny, supporting his weight and pulling him closer.

Just as Danny knew he would.

They stayed that way for a long time, even after the silent weeping from both men had run its course. Sniffling, Danny allowed himself to sag in Steve's grip as his eye began to droop. The SEAL didn't seem to mind and tightened his hold before placing a chaste kiss on the crown of Danny's head.

"Love you, Danno."

A pause, then, "Love you too, Steve."

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Dr. Mackey was right about a lot of stuff. While their long talk mended many woes, it failed to help any of Danny's physical injuries. If anything, it only increased his overall discomfort. According to Steve's memory, they'd already managed to break every rule the good doctor had created.

Maybe he should've written 'Doctors know best' a hundred times after all.

But really, this was no laughing matter and Steve was debating whether or not he should call Dr. Mackey now for help. Wrestling Danny into a shirt sapped what was left of the man's pain tolerance, leaving him shaking and pale on the couch. That persistent tremble worried Steve more than many of the other prevailing issues, representing a great many physical woes.

And there were a lot of other prevailing issues.

Getting Dany to eat and keep food down was its own challenge, and convincing to sleep was nigh impossible. Still, Steve tried with every ounce of experience he'd gained over the past ten years. Cognizant of Dr. Mackey's orders, he left Danny resting on the couch and quickly whipped up some eggs - slightly burnt - and toast. He dished out relatively small servings, but Danny still only managed less than half the eggs and one piece of toast before pushing the plate away.

"Buddy, you gotta eat," he coaxed gently, barely hiding concern in his voice as Danny squeezed his eyes shut. "You're skin and bones right now - I can literally count your ribs through your shirt. C'mon, at least finish the eggs, alright?"

"No, 'm done." Resting his hand over his eyes, Danny sagged back against the couch cushions. "Feels like I'm gonna puke."

"Is it because of your stomach or your head?"

"Head," Danny answered immediately, then backpedaled appropriately before Steve freaked out. "Nothin' to worry about, alright? I'm just dizzy and I'm not that hungry anyway."

"Uh huh, sure. So what you're telling me is that you don't have even the slightest headache."

Danny peeked through a gap in his fingers and glared half-heartedly at the former SEAL before shielding his eyes once more. "Maybe a little one," he muttered eventually.

If Steve heard the man curse concussions and doctors and idiot perps under his breath, he pretended not to notice.

Instead, he went into the master bathroom and grabbed a couple of different pill bottles from the medicine cabinet. Returning to the living room, he poured out the appropriate dosages and plunked them into Danny's palm.

"Don't want meds, Steven."

"Tough." Steve could be equally stubborn when he wanted to be, and he knew when his friend needed to be pushed rather than gentle handling. "These are just over-the-counter pain pills, I swear. Once you take those, I got something for you that will help with the nausea."

He wasn't sure if it made him feel better or worse when Danny didn't protest further, popping the pills in his mouth and reaching blindly for his glass of water. Rolling his eyes, Steve picked it up off the coffee table and put it in his partner's wandering hand. Then, he passed over the anti-nausea pill. "Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve," he ordered.

"Yes, Mom."

Rolling his eyes at the sarcasm, Steve bopped his friend lightly on the arm. "Keep it up and I'll take you right back to the hospital. I might even do it anyway for fun since you're this chipper."

After ignoring Danny's grumbled reply, Steve took the nearly-full plate back to the kitchen and started cleaning up. He left the kitchen door propped, keeping an eye on the back of Danny's head as he put away the remaining groceries and washed the dishes. The mindless motion paired with the familiar environment soothed his frazzled thoughts.

Danny's furious words rang in his mind, the herald of a dozen deep-seated problems that his friend had hidden from him. On one hand, it hurt like a stab wound; but he also completely understood. Before he left on his sabbatical of peace, he blatantly refused to share his troubles with his partner - a fact that irked his partner to no end. Maybe if he'd shared his troubles with Danny all the way back then, neither of them would be a complete mess now.

Focus on the present, his therapist had told him time and again. You can't change the past and you can't control the future. All you have is this moment - so use it wisely.

Sound advice. That didn't make it easier to follow.

If the house hadn't been so quiet - and if he hadn't kept a fraction of his senses focused on his partner, he would've missed the quiet whimper emanating from the couch. A sharp gasp followed it, then a soft moan - the combination of which screamed distress. Checking his watch, Steve's heart sank to his stomach.

Danny had barely been asleep for thirty minutes. If this was a regular thing - and he was sure that it was thanks to that disaster of a phone call at 2 AM - no wonder the poor guy collapsed from exhaustion.

Quickly drying his hands, Steve abandoned the dishes and skidded into the living room to find Danny in a restless sleep. He was curled in a semi-upright position into the corner of the couch, a pillow braced against his ribs, a blanket covering his legs, and Steve's glass plague clasped in one hand. Brow creased in pain, his breathing faltered before resuming at a much faster pace. That, coupled with the intermittent whimpers, pointed to one thing Steve was unfortunately extremely familiar with disrupting his sleep.

Nightmare.

Remembering what happened the last time he'd startled Danny (his lip was already starting to swell), Steve avoided touching his partner just yet. He crouched nearby, within eyesight and close enough to comfort his friend while far enough away to avoid any fists thrown his way.

"Danno," he called in the gentlest tone he could muster, using the name his kids christened him to puncture the fog of the nightmare. "Wake up, buddy. It's just a dream."

Fortunately, Danny's eyes popped open with little prompting (and no fists thrown, which Steve also counted as a win). He jerked upright with a gasp, gaze immediately locking on Steve with such desperation that his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Steve?" Danny's tone was careful, as if he wasn't entirely sure if what he was seeing was real. His hands tightened around the plaque, seeking further reassurance.

"In the flesh." Heart clenching, Steve studied his friend's face. "You okay?"

He obviously wasn't, but the question was a good way for Steve to judge the severity of not-okayness he was dealing with.

Danny let loose a shuddering exhale, shoulders relaxing. He kicked off the blanket, settling completely upright. "Sure," he murmured, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak you out."

Not a good sign.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for." Steve rose from his crouch and took his previous spot sitting on the coffee table. "Nightmare?"

"Uh huh."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Danny broke eye contact, a new habit that Steve decided he hated. "No," he whispered, tone colored with multiple emotions that told an entirely different story.

Studying his partner, Steve noted that - while he didn't seem to be in too much pain - he seemed even more exhausted. The poor guy needed more rest, crazy as that seemed, but there was no way he would willingly sleep after something like that. After ten years of friendship, Steve knew that Danny almost never slept after a nightmare - whether that was out of fear or just inability, he didn't know.

Today, that wouldn't do.

Coming to a decision, Steve rose from sitting on the coffee table and settled on the couch beside his partner. Though they weren't quite touching, he effectively blocked Danny into the corner. "Why don't you try to get some more rest?" he asked lightly. "You definitely need it."

"I can't," Danny said firmly, still refusing to meet Steve's eyes. "Nightmares mess me up bad. I'm not gonna be able to sleep."

"Try. I'll be here in case you start to have another one. If you do, I'll wake you up."

He didn't say anything more, just shifted in the cushions until he was comfortable. Slinging his arm across the back of the couch, he propped his feet up on the coffee table and waited. It was a balancing act - being there for someone while simultaneously giving them space. With Danny, it was even trickier, especially after their conversation earlier that morning.

See, it was Danny's instinct to take care of everyone else, shoving his personal needs aside in the process. Much like Steve, Danny absolutely sucked at accepting help - not because of pride, but because he simply didn't really know how. As a result, Danny liked having his people close, but often stubbornly rejected any offer of comfort or assistance.

If he factored in Danny's previous admittance of feeling like a burden to Steve, the injured detective would be even less receptive than normal to Steve's help.

Stubborn haole.

The trick, Steve knew, was twofold. First, make certain things non-negotiable - like staying at Danny's house or even sitting beside him now on the couch. Danny didn't have to ask for help, nor was he given the opportunity to protest (though he often did anyway). Second, allow Danny to make the last move to accept the support. Any attempt to force him into something resulted in waspish words and rapid retreats.

Again, being present while giving space.

Sure enough, Danny sighed and shifted beside him, still not quite touching the SEAL. Grinning, Steve leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn't react as his friend squirmed a bit, hissing in pain at the movement.

Any time now…

A warm weight hesitantly settled on his shoulder, the smooth strands of Danny's hair tickling Steve's cheek. Eyes still closed, Steve let his hand drop from the top of the couch to rest on Danny's opposite shoulder.

They stayed that way for a little over 20 minutes, completely undisturbed. Danny gradually sagged further and further against Steve's side as his breathing deepened into sleep. Meanwhile, Steve allowed himself to fall into a light doze, keeping his promise to his friend to be on the lookout for nightmares. Subtle twitching and another one of those soft whimpers that Steve utterly despised roused him from his half-sleeping state, and a single glance at Danny's distressed face told him everything.

Gently, he rubbed Danny's shoulder and murmured reassuring words designed to break the cycle of the nightmare without waking his friend. He wasn't entirely sure what exactly he said, not that it mattered in this scenario. Without fanfare, Danny's face scrunched briefly before relaxing, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

Patting his friend's shoulder once more, he closed his eyes and fully relaxed. It'd been ages since he'd slept - and while this wasn't his bed, it was the next best thing. With his brother snuffling softly in his sleep against his chest and the peace of home covering him like a blanket, Steve found himself slipping into a deeper slumber.

He'd told Danny - promised him, actually - that he wouldn't let him down again. Taking care of his partner now was the first step in that vow he had no plans of breaking.

Smiling, he let the darkness take him.

~H50~

So Lou considered himself the father of the Five-0 team, obviously. His teammates - especially after Chin Ho Kelly left - were all younger than him and often looked to him for wisdom and advice. Lightening the atmosphere with dad jokes or telling people exactly what they needed to hear, Lou considered it his duty to look out for his teammates while they looked out for everyone else.

Although if he really stopped to think about it, he was really more of a mother hen. A fact, he decided, to be completely irrelevant. Someone needed to be, anyway, especially with champion trouble-finders like McGarrett and Williams on the team.

During times of crisis, Lou focused on his team's needs first, allowing the others to direct all their energy towards the situation at hand. He reminded Steve to sleep, Danny to eat and drink something other than coffee, Tani to breathe, and Junior to talk about what bothered him. It was all about anticipating needs and ensuring they were taken care of before they became problematic.

Adam often joined him in the quest of Five-0 wrangling - after all, it was definitely a two-person job. Today, however, Lou rejected the man's offer of help in handling what was bound to be the mess of all messes.

"I think it's better for this to have less of an audience. You handle the kids, try to keep them occupied," he'd said, referring to Tani, Junior, and Quinn. "While you're at it, call Rachel and Grace and give them both updates - and make sure you tell them that they don't need to come home just yet."

Despite his obvious reluctance, Adam agreed, leaving Lou to drive over in Steve's truck (dutifully returned by Junior) to the Williams house and prepare for the worst.

Armed with Renee's signature homemade chicken soup and some other home-cooked goodies, he parked behind his own SUV and took a moment to simply breathe. It was completely impossible to know what he was walking into - not that it deterred him, but he possessed enough wisdom to center himself before entering the McGarrett/Williams hurricane.

And this might be the mother of all tempests - rightfully so. Though Lou took the time to reassure Steve that he deserved no blame for this current situation, he had a little trouble believing it about himself. Looking back over the past year, Lou couldn't deny that he'd ignored some very serious issues brewing in both men. Instead of looking out for his teammates, he accepted the diversion of humor and comradery wholeheartedly.

Look where that got you, Grover. Two of his closest friends were hurting badly and might've given up on each other. And Lou let it all happen, willfully oblivious.

Well, no more.

With one final deep breath, he grabbed his offerings strode for the front food with his head held high. He couldn't hear any yelling from outside the house, something he deemed to be an excellent sign. Shifting the food under his left arm, he raised his hand and knocked firmly.

No answer. Nothing from the alarmingly-silent house.

Stepping back, Lou ignored the growing alarm screaming in his mind and tried to think rationally. Junior mentioned when he was dropping off the truck that Steve called him earlier that morning with a grocery list of all things, and that he'd delivered them here not too long ago. Plus, the SUV Lou loaned the former SEAL was still sitting in the driveway, so they definitely hadn't left.

Maybe they both killed each other.

Or Steve fell asleep, but he doubted that. Despite his obvious exhaustion, his friend looked far too wired from Danny's collapse to get any rest. That man wasn't going to leave his best friend's side until he absolutely had to.

Frowning, Lou knocked once more and still received no answer. With worry now overwhelming logic, he grabbed the hidden spare key from behind the non-functioning doorbell and unlocked the door - prepared for anything.

… except what he found. Which was two of Hawaii's bravest and fiercest protectors curled up on the couch together, arms around each other, and fast asleep.

Lou blinked, shook his head, and looked again with utter disbelief. But no, his eyes hadn't deceived him. Steve was slouched against the cushions with his legs stretched across the coffee table, head back with soft snuffling snores coming from his nose, and an arm wrapped protectively around the blond-haired lump pressed against his chest. Danny was also deeply asleep, resting against Steve's torso on his side with his knees bent to his chest in a compact little ball. One hand clung to Steve's t-shirt while the other wrapped around an odd glass shape. A closer look revealed that to be Steve's award plaque.

Well... that was new.

His initial instinct - born of years of being labeled as a 'goofball' - was to wake them, but he quickly quashed it. Even from his position by the door, he could see the exhaustion still lining both men's faces. They deserved sleep, and the father in Lou nearly sobbed at the sight of both getting the rest they so desperately needed.

Instead, he quietly shut the door behind him and relocked it before tip-toeing to the kitchen. He put away the rest of the groceries, poured the soup in a pan to simmer, and finished the dishes someone - probably Steve - started a while ago. That done, he sat down at the table and updated the appropriate people - who he also warned with a few death threats to stay away so the men could rest.

Checking on his friends, he couldn't help but smile when he found them both still soundly asleep. He grabbed a throw from on top of the couch and another from beneath the coffee table, throwing one across Steve's legs and the other over Danny's tightly curled form. Neither man so much as twitched.

Retreating back to the kitchen, Lou opened his crossword puzzle app and prepared to face the daunting challenge of today's puzzle. And if he snapped a few pictures of the slumbering men - for blackmail, obviously - no one would ever know.

~H50~

Danny was pulled from the blissful arms of a restful, deep, dreamless slumber by the unsympathetic call of nature. It wasn't fair, he decided; the world seemed determined to make sure he never got enough rest. Though he tried to ignore it - he was comfortable, damn it! - the feeling only grew until it chased away the remnants of sleep and forced him to act.

Sighing, he blinked open his eyes and shifted against his warm, breathing pillow. It grunted and moved as well, the arm wrapped around his shoulders tightening. "You okay?" Steve's sleepy-gruff voice came from behind his head.

Nodding, Danny forced himself to move out of the comfortable corner to sit up fully and bit back a moan. On top of a relentless headache and burning ribs, the muscles in his shoulders and neck screamed in protest of his chosen sleeping position. "Yeah, I'm fine," he breathed, his hand rising to knead his left shoulder near the exit bullet wound scar.

"You in any pain?" Worry crept into Steve's voice, the concern enough to derail Danny's instinctive sarcastic remark. After all they endured and the blatant honesty hours before, Danny refused to cheapen their current conversation with sarcasm.

Well, at least not unnecessary sarcasm. Some of it was essential for survival when dealing with Steve McGarrett.

"It's not bad. Nothing to worry about."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. You say that and then end up faceplanting on the floor a few seconds later."

"Not true!" Danny pushed himself up, wobbling on unsteady knees and nearly proving Steve right. When Steve went to get up and steady him, Danny waved him away. "I'm fine, you gigantic lug. I just gotta… y'know, go, alright?"

He stumbled off in the direction of the bathroom before Steve could reply, taking care of business and brushing his teeth again. When he returned to the living room, he ignored the spark of relief that popped in his chest when he found Steve still there stretching. His partner looked tired, something Danny failed to notice early during their rather intense argument and subsequent nap. The man could clearly do with more sleep, and Danny berated himself for missing that obvious need.

"You look like crap, y'know. Did you sleep at all last night?"

Finishing his back-cracking stretch, Steve folded up the blankets and tucked them on top of the couch. "Clearly you haven't looked in the mirror lately, Danno," he replied cheekily. "I'm a Navy SEAL, remember? I'm trained to go without sleep."

"You're also old, which means napping is less of a choice and more of a necessity."

"Well, since you're gonna have to sleep some this afternoon, I'll take a nap then. Happy?"

Danny glowered at him. "I'm done nappin'. I feel like I've slept all day. Oh wait, I have slept all day."

Rising from the couch, Steve shrugged. "Too bad. One of the conditions Dr. Mackey made for you coming home was that you'd rest, so you're going to sleep whether you like it or not."

"Since when do you care about doctors' orders? Completely unrelated question: how much did you have to threaten this Dr. Mackey to get them to release me?"

"Quite a bit," came a new voice, making Danny jump. Fight or flight instincts triggered, he turned towards the kitchen and stared with wide eyes at one Lou Grover. "You should've seen it. She was five-foot-nothing and Steve still had to use the Governor card to get you out… and she still almost didn't let him take you."

He vaguely heard Steve protesting over the roar of blood rushing to his head, though he couldn't make it out for the life of him. Swallowing, he berated himself for this ridiculous reaction. This was Lou, for crying out loud! Not one of Mrs. Wo Fat's henchmen, not some criminal he put away long ago, not Marco Reyes.

Just Lou.

That didn't stop the fear from coiling in his gut, nor did it keep his hands from shaking as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away.

He didn't even realize he'd zoned out again until warm hands clasped his biceps, jolting him ever so gently back to the present. Blinking, he met the concerned gaze of his partner, sea green eyes swimming with trepidation.

"Buddy, hey, you good?" That weird tone was back in Steve's voice, this time matching an equally strange facial expression Danny had grown awfully familiar with over the last ten years. "We lost you there for a second."

Shrugging off Steve's hands, Danny folded his arms across his chest and glared at Lou. "How the hell did you get in here? Do you even know how to knock? Last I checked, the welcome mat outside didn't say, 'Come right in and help yourself.' What's with everyone comin' in my house like they own the freakin' joint?"

Lou looked entirely too amused for his own good, rocking back and forth on his heels and adopting a look of false innocence. "You ain't got a welcome mat, Williams. And, unless my memory is mistaken, you never knock either."

"He's got a point," Steve chimed in from the sidelines.

Arms unfolding, Danny jabbed a finger in Steve's direction. "Who asked you, huh? You're an animal with zero sense of etiquette. It took me ten years to get you house-trained and you still keep grenades under the kitchen sink! So you definitely don't get to add your two cents to this conversation!"

Steve only smirked in reply, miming zipping his lips. The banter gently eased Danny down from the over-the-top adrenaline rush, soothing his nerves and calming the full-on tremble of his hands to a mere intermittent shake. While he could still feel Steve watching him like a hawk, the worry souring the air slowly dissipated.

"Well," Lou drawled, leaning against the doorframe, "maybe you'll forgive me when you step into that kitchen. I came bearing gifts from Renee, including her homemade chicken noodle soup and garlic bread. She sent enough to feed the entire island three times over, so I hope you're hungry."

Stomach twisting at the thought of food, Danny shook his head apologetically. "I'll have some later."

"No, he'll have some now," Steve interjected merrily, countering Danny's acquiescence with ease. "Thanks for bringing it, Lou."

"'M not hungry, Steven."

"Too bad. Doc said you gotta eat a little bit every couple of hours to make sure you don't fall flat on your face again. Besides, it's almost lunchtime."

Herding him towards the kitchen, Steve refused to be dissuaded by any of Danny's extremely logical protests. Before Danny could do anything about it, he was corralled into a chair with a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of water in front of him. He shot a baleful glare at the two men - both of whom remained utterly uncowed - and reluctantly picked up the spoon as conversation turned towards lighthearted accounts of Steve's travels and Five-0's antics.

Eating the soup was a struggle at first between Danny's still-trembling hands and his stomach's gleefully uproarious rioting. He somehow managed, though he wasn't sure if the credit for that accomplishment belonged to the comforting familiarity of the food, the meds he'd choked down earlier, or Steve's proximity.

Probably a mix of all three.

Still, the world seemed dead set on continuing his misery. Historically, he'd never handled concussions or broken ribs well. The combination was borderline debilitating, especially when he never really recovered from his last bout with them. As much as he griped, he'd take a gunshot wound over a concussion or busted ribs any day.

Though, in all fairness, his current healing bullet wound wasn't doing so hot either.

Doggedly sipping the soup, he ignored the barely-concealed glances laced with worry and guilt both Lou and Steve shot in his direction amidst the relaxed conversation. Not that he didn't appreciate their concern, but a part of him that refused to quiet still insisted he was nothing more than a burden. Addressing their worry was too much for right now, not when it felt both wrong and somehow good to be cared for like this.

He could only handle one thing at a time right now, and his current priority involved not puking up all the nutrients he desperately needed.

But eventually, his battered defenses crumpled against the constant onslaught of sensations. Sounds were too sharp, too loud - voices, spoons clinking against ceramic, scraping wood against tile. His eyes refused to focus; the lights - no matter how dim - stabbed his retinas and began beating against his brain. Ribs protesting every movement, pain was yet another stimulus that Danny simply couldn't handle.

He was a mess and he hated it.

The spoon slipped from his fingers and clattered against the table. As a barely-muffled groan escaped his lips, Danny squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head to the table. The position had its benefits - namely blocking sensations from reaching his throbbing brain. Though it made his ribs scream obscenities at him, his head praised the move of self-preservation.

A calloused palm found its way to the back of his neck, its comforting warmth easing the pounding headache a bit. Danny sagged a bit further, groaning quietly as his ribs complained against stretching further than necessary. Around him, the voices ceased their light conversation and morphed into muted whispers.

"He okay?" Deep, booming, wise and wisecracking all at once - that belonged to Lou Grover.

The hand shifted against his neck, two fingers finding the pulse point near his jaw. "Yeah," Steve's commanding tone - gentle and concerned at the moment - answered a beat later. "Danny and concussions don't mix well, never have. It's not helping things at all." Another pause, then, "How much of the soup did he finish?"

"Let's see… there's about a quarter of a bowl left. Not too bad."

A sigh of relief preluded the hand's movement away from his neck to between his shoulder blades. "Yeah, that's better than he did earlier this morning. Still not enough, though."

"You're tellin' me. I've seen stray dogs with more fat on 'em than him."

Now that was just plain insulting, and Danny was more than willing to aggravate his headache to say so. "I have ears, y'know," he huffed. "And I'm sittin' right here."

Lou snorted. "Oh, you call that sitting?"

At least it didn't hurt to flip Lou off. He didn't even have to raise his head off the table.

Chuckling from behind him, Steve patted his back. "I don't normally say this, but Lou's right, Danno. This can't be comfortable with your ribs. C'mon, I'll help you up."

"Screw you. 'M not an invalid."

Despite his half-hearted protest, Danny allowed his partner to pull him to his feet and steady him through the wave of dizziness and throbbing ribs from the change in position. He tried not to lean on Steve too much, but the SEAL didn't seem to mind and guided him back to the living room.

"Sit," he ordered, cushioning Danny's controlled fall onto the couch. "I'm gonna take a set of vitals and check your ribs, alright? I want to make sure nothing is shifting and puncturing a lung."

"No, not alright. I'm fine."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Never heard that one before. Just humor me, Danno."

Danny did, more because Steve was borderline unstoppable when he got that look in his eye. The examination progressed with minimal amount of cursing on Danny's end, so he silently congratulated himself. On the other hand, Steve was taking aneurysm face to a whole new level and it didn't take a detective to figure out why.

"It's not your fault, you know."

"So everyone keeps telling me," Steve growled, pulling Danny's shirt back down with more ferocity than the situation warranted. "But how can you possibly say that with… with all this? Danny - -"

"No," Danny cut him off, his tone the calmest it'd been in months. "I kinda thought this was coming, saw it on the horizon years ago. You can't do this job for as long as we have without something inside you… breaking, I guess."

Though the self-deprecating anger still lurked in Steve's eyes, he backed down. "Yeah, I know the feeling." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The only way to stop it is to get out, right? But I think we realized it too late and were too stubborn to deal with it the right way. Maybe we're our own worst enemies, huh?"

Humming a neutral note, Danny closed his eyes against the spinning room. "Maybe."

Steve gently squeezed his knee, then Danny felt him rise and move around the room. Outside his eyelids, the room darkened further with a quiet clatter as Steve closed the blinds. "You might be more comfortable in your room, buddy."

"No, 'm good here. I don't wanna sleep."

"You ought to try. Sleeping will probably help with the headache, not to mention you still look exhausted."

Danny cracked open one eye to glare at his friend and instantly regretted it.

Chuckling, Steve's voice floated around the room. "Suit yourself. I'll be in the kitchen with Lou, so holler if you need anything, okay?"

"You don't need to stay." Danny put up the requisite protest, no matter how much his heart cried for his best friend to stay right there and never leave again. However strong that wish was, he refused to hold Steve back from the things he wanted or needed.

He'd done enough of that already.

"You got other things to do, other people to see. You can go back home, see Eddie, catch some more sleep yourself. I'll be fine."

The reply came without a second's hesitation, lacking anything other than wholehearted genuineness. "No place I'd rather be, Danno. I'm not leaving you."

And really, those simple words and the unspoken truth behind them lightened the weight on Danny's shoulders a little further.

You're not an obligation.

You're my brother.

I choose you.

The echoes of Steve's vow resonated in the air, soothing the uncomfortable prickle in Danny's chest. He wrapped it around him like a blanket and allowed it to force the doubt back once more. Trust would take time to rebuild, he knew, but he would do everything possible to send it on its way.

"Thanks, Steve."

He could practically hear Steve's answering grin as the SEAL slipped back into the kitchen, closing the swinging door behind him. Goof.

Drifting in and out of a light doze, Danny enjoyed the comfort of a restful fog. An indeterminate amount of time later, the creak of footsteps down the hall pulled him back closer to awareness. Still, he loathed exiting the restful state and allowed himself to drift.

"He's out." Steve, the owner of the voice, drew closer. A moment later, a firm grasp slowly shifted Danny's limp body until he was lying on his back.

"He'll probably sleep a lot these next couple days between the scrambled noggin and everything else." Lou's voice stayed put from over by the kitchen. "And man, he needs it."

A light blanket slowly unfurled across his body, a comforting weight from his clavicle to his toes. "Yeah, he does."

"Look, why don't you take a break? You need rest too, McGarrett. Go home, go for a swim, take a walk around your island. He'll be okay for awhile… I'll keep an eye on him."

"I'm fine, Lou." Steve's voice drifted back behind Danny, heading for the kitchen. "I'd rather be here, anyway."

Voices fading, Danny barely caught the last bit before they quieted altogether.

"So when are you gonna tell him about your plans? 'Cause there's no way I'm letting you blindside him again."

A pause, then Steve's quiet answer. "Soon."

~H50~

All things considered, the rest of the day went rather well - even Dr. Mackey's visit. Steve took that as a big check in the 'win' column.

Due to the concussion and busted ribs and overall unwellness, Danny couldn't do much of anything besides lounging around. Watching TV was out, as was any physical activity beyond limping from one room to another. The poor guy spent most of his day napping and eating the food Steve managed to shove down his throat every few hours.

As a result, the man was rather cranky.

The mood was familiar and spoke volumes to Steve, it being Danny's biggest tell that he was in pain. Since Danny had a bad habit of glossing over his woes, his crankiness allowed Steve to read between the lines and respond appropriately. When Danny snapped at him multiple times halfway through eating his sandwich, Steve knew to hustle him to the bathroom so he could his guts out.

Still, the stubborn detective seemed off even in his grumpy mood - careful, nervous, almost apologetic. Like if he said the wrong thing, Steve would cast him aside and walk away. Every time he saw that guarded look thrown his way or heard Danny sugarcoat his pain, Steve's heart broke a little more.

Their friendship was the casualty of a job meant to prevent fatalities. But Steve was done letting it take hits time and again. It was way past time to rebuild what they demolished.

So each time he encountered those troubling signs, he only smiled gently and reminded Danny he wasn't going anywhere through his words and actions. Danny's hesitant, shy grin behind a snarky reply told Steve everything he needed to know.

Perhaps the best example of this odd mood came after Dr. Mackey's visit that night. The redheaded doctor handled Danny's tetchy trepidation with ease, managing to reassure him about his health and gently scold him for neglecting it simultaneously. She left them with an admonishment to eat and rest, a prescription for stronger anti-nausea and pain meds - something Steve knew Danny had no intention of using - and orders to follow-up with his primary-care physician as soon as possible.

Steve's pointed glare paired with Dr. Mackey's firm admonishment forced Danny to humbly agree.

Closing the door behind the doctor, Steve found his partner still seated at the kitchen table staring at nothing. Arms wrapped around his ribcage in a self-embrace, a myriad of emotions flitted across Danny's pale face in a slideshow too complex for even Steve to read.

"Hey," he said lightly, startling Danny from his pensive state. "You ready to get some actual sleep in an actual bed? All those naps on the couch definitely weren't good for your back, buddy."

He literally saw Danny swallow a sarcastic comment, nervousness flashing across his face. "Actually, I don't think I'm gonna go to bed yet."

"Danno, it's almost eleven. Plus, what're you gonna do, huh? You can't watch TV or read or anything like that." Cocking his head, Steve shoved his frustration aside and gentled his tone. "Listen, Danny, it's completely natural to sleep pretty much all the time after - -"

"It's not that," Danny interrupted. "I just don't feel like sleeping yet, alright?"

Frowning, the former SEAL nodded slowly. "Okay… what're you gonna do? Stare at the walls all night?"

"I dunno." Fiddling with the salt shaker on the table, Danny hesitantly met Steve's gaze. "Tell me more about your trip, huh? What was your favorite place you visited?"

It was deflection, plain and simple, but it tripped Steve up nonetheless. He felt as though he'd slipped on the bottom step of a staircase, falling flat before his brain caught up with the accident. Studying his tense friend, Steve forced himself to slow down and interpret the signs Danny projected.

"I could do that," he finally said, plopping down in the chair across from his partner, "or you could tell me what's really goin' on. Why don't you wanna sleep?"

Danny stared at him for a moment, feigning incredulity. "You think I don't want to sleep? What, are you crazy? Just because I feel like staying up a little longer doesn't mean I hate sleep, Steven."

Steve said nothing, raised an eyebrow, and waited.

Eventually, Danny broke eye contact and unfolded his arms. Clasping his hands in his lap, his fingers ghosted over that red band of scar tissue around his wrist. He was still stubbornly silent, but ten years of partnership taught Steve more than just how to be a better cop.

Though he hadn't said a word, Danny told Steve everything he needed to know.

"Aw, Danno," he murmured.

Rising, he gently pulled his partner to his feet and supported him through a wave of vertigo. He guided the smaller man through the master bedroom to the bathroom. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Practically sprinting back to the kitchen, Steve grabbed the anti-nausea and pain meds, a glass of water, and his carry-on from the front closet. He skidded back into the bedroom, only to find Danny standing in the doorway staring at the bed with something akin to apprehension.

He blinked when Steve pressed the meds into his palm. "Take these, alright? Anti-nausea pill next."

Danny rolled his eyes and complied, then accepted the next pill Steve handed him without protest. His hands were shaking ever so slightly and the SEAL's heart shattered a little further.

As if there was a whole piece left to break.

Still, he took it as a win when he managed to coax Danny into lightweight pj pants and a soft, oversized t-shirt. Both hung too loosely on the too-skinny man, a fact Steve vowed to resolve as soon as possible. But that was tomorrow's problem, he decided as he prodded Danny towards the bed.

Though Danny eyed it like it was a portal to hell itself, he reluctantly allowed Steve manhandle him against the pillows. With the sheets and comforter pulled over his body, Steve patted his partner lightly on the shoulder and picked up his carry-on.

The road to healing started with a single step, according to his rather-astute therapist. He was more than happy to take that first stride for his friend.

It didn't take him long to change and brush his teeth in the bathroom, but it was apparently enough time for Danny working himself into a sitting position in bed with his knees pulled to his chest. He silently watched as Steve set the bag down on the floor, eyes widening as the SEAL pulled a blanket out of the closet.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"What do you think?" Steve flicked off the light, climbed on top of the covers beside Danny, and pulled the blanket over his own body. "I thought you wanted me to sleep."

"Not here, genius! I'm…" He clenched his hands into fists. "I'm just gonna wake you up. I don't think I've made it a full night without waking up screaming."

Shrugging, Steve squirmed against the pillows until he found a comfortable position. "Better that than going through it all by yourself."

Silence. Danny still sat upright in bed, staring down at him.

Rolling his eyes, Steve pulled the blond down to the mattress. "Besides, your couch sucks, Danno. I'd rather sleep here and get woken up than twist my spine in knots on that springboard you call a couch."

"So instead, you're stealing my bed? In what universe does that make sense?"

"Geez, did you ever learn to share? And you call me the Neanderthal."

Danny's response was unprintable.

Grinning in the darkness, Steve waited as his friend shifted on the bed in gradually slowing bursts. Eventually, Danny curled up facing Steve, close but not quite touching. "Y'u don' gotta stay," Danny slurred, half-asleep.

But please do, the unspoken plea rang clearly through the air.

Steve reached over and clumsily patted Danny's cheek. "Goodnight, Danno."

When he woke up early the next morning after a full night of sleep - disturbed by only one nightmare, he found his arms wrapped around his snoring brother and smiled before drifting right back to sleep.

Chapter Text

I try so hard to be so happy

Are you happy too? I know you try to.

Plan on this

You're no longer gonna be the plan I miss.

- "Christmas in June" by AJR

Time always had a way of behaving strangely, especially in the midst of unusual circumstances. Though each day lasted its typical 24 hours, Steve blinked and he'd already been on the island for a full week. An even more fascinating observation was that nearly all of that time was spent within the confines of Danny's house.

Not that Steve particularly minded that fact. Now that he had Danny back, he decided that he didn't want to let the man out of his sight ever again.

Based on Danny's behavior over the week, the feeling was entirely mutual.

The two men settled into a sort of routine over the past few days. After waking up - sometimes on the couch, sometimes beside Danny when he showed signs of a rough night - Steve made breakfast. Then, he spent a decent amount of time convincing his friend to actually eat said breakfast. The detective's appetite was barely present on the best of days and completely non-existent on the worst.

Still, they managed. After an appointment with Danny's primary care physician, Steve began making a protein-milkshake hybrid that his partner actually enjoyed. Between that and intentionally making his favorite junk foods mixed with a smattering of healthy high-calorie foods, the sallow color disappeared from Danny's skin as he got the intake he needed. He looked less like a corpse, so that was a win.

In between Danny's doctor appointments and PT sessions and Steve's supply runs, the rest of their days were filled with relaxing activities, mundane day-to-day stuff neither of them really managed to grasp in the hectic whirlwind of the past ten years. In a way, it was incredibly therapeutic for Steve to focus on the trivial things of a normal life. Though both he and Danny were men of action, the sanctity of peace became something to reach for all by itself.

Instead of interrogations, car chases, shootouts, and paperwork, they took many naps cuddled together on the couch, watched old movies when Danny was able to, went for short walks that left Dany huffing and puffing and cursing his ribs, talked seriously then teased playfully, and spent time with their ohana. It was 'peace' if Steve could ever pinpoint it.

Well, maybe peace was a relative term. Between their constant bickering - lighthearted and highly amusing - and the constant stream of people checking on them, it certainly wasn't quiet. Neither of them particularly minded.

They had many visitors over the course of the week. Kono stopped by one day to drop off Steve's luggage and ended up staying for dinner, laughing as Danny lectured Steve on how to cook homemade spaghetti sauce and then scolding him for not eating very much of it. Though they weren't there in person, Grace - interning on the mainland - and Charlie- visiting his grandparents in England with Rachel - each called almost every day. Lou and Adam stopped by every night after work and brought more food and good conversation with them. Meanwhile, Tani and Junior saw it as their duty to come by in the mornings and harass the older men with their boundless energy. And Eddie, of course, came with them.

That first morning when Steve and Eddie reunited was far from dignified, not that Steve particularly cared. From the first moment he heard his dog barking outside the house, Steve dropped whatever he was doing and sprinted out the front door. He landed on his knees seconds before a golden-furred blur collided with his chest. Nearly sobbing, Steve wrapped his arms around his excited dog who refused to sit still long enough for Steve to hug him.

Danny filmed the whole thing and gleefully declared that he was going to submit it to one of those YouTube channels that showed military members reuniting with their dogs after deployment. Thankfully, Tani slapped him for Steve so the SEAL didn't have to stop petting his dog.

Midway through the week, Five-0 caught a fairly big case that has something to do with a massive blackmail operation focused on high-ranking military members. It was an all-hands-on-deck situation, especially after the captain that reported the blackmail was gunned down with his family in broad daylight. With pressure coming from the military and the Governor herself, the team found themselves caught in a high-speed investigation with danger at every twist and turn.

In other words, it was just another day in the Five-0 task force. The real surprise to everyone was Steve's reaction to it all.

The team was gathered at Danny's house enjoying a pancake cookoff between Team Tani/Junior and Team Steve/Danny - yet another ploy to help Danny gain back lost weight - on the morning they got the initial call from the Governor. After Lou relayed the call, everybody instinctively turned to Steve.

Everyone except Danny, who was studying the tabletop like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

But the former SEAL merely shrugged and shoved another forkful of flapjack into his mouth.

"What're you lookin' at me for?" he asked around his mouthful of banana chocolate chip pancake. "Get out of here!"

"You're not coming with us?" Tani hesitantly asked the question on everyone's mind.

Swallowing his food, Steve shook his head. "You guys got it covered. Lou'll take point, right?"

"Yessir," Lou replied with a mocking salute in Steve's direction. "All of yous, let's get moving. We got a job to do."

They cleared out pretty quickly after that (though Junior and Quinn both managed to snag an entire stack of pancakes for the road). Steve continued casually eating his food and glanced over at Danny.

Who was staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What?"

"What d'you mean, what?" Danny's hands revved up, chopping through the air in precise movements that didn't aggravate his ribs. "Why aren't you going with them, huh?"

Steve shrugged again, nonchalantly reaching for another pancake. "Didn't feel like it."

"You didn't feel like it?"

"Yeah, I'm on vacation."

"Vacation?"

"You got a hearing problem, Daniel? Yes, vacation. I'm not on duty, so I'm not going and I'm staying here with you. The rest of the team is more than capable of handling this." Gesturing with his fork at Danny's untouched pancake, Steve glared at his partner. "Eat, buddy, or I'm callin' your doctor."

Danny only stared at him, incredulity giving way to that keen analyzing glint he saw when his partner mentally worked through a puzzle. After all, the detective nature ingrained into his DNA didn't exactly take a sick day. Steve had no doubt that Danny would figure out his true reasoning relatively soon.

Sure enough, Danny's expression smoothed and he shyly ducked his head. "Tattletale," he grumbled, picking up his fork and scowling at his food. "You're a real jerk, you know that?"

Hearing the hidden gratitude in his voice, Steve grinned cheekily. "You love me anyway, Danno. You know you do."

In true fashion, Danny flipped him off.

Though outwardly insulted by the gesture, Steve allowed himself a small internal sigh of relief. Bit by bit, the injured detective was showing signs of life again. Healing, like most things in life, wasn't instantaneous. Danny's issues, both physical and mental, would take more than one week to resolve. However, Steve saw small improvements in his partner each day. He smiled more frequently, seemed more relaxed, and engaged in their typical banter with gusto.

Sometimes, Steve noticed him eyeing the glass plaque on the coffee table, as if to reassure himself that all this wasn't going away. His confidence in the SEAL's promise grew each day until his shoulders no longer sagged with relief each morning when he found Steve in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

Yes, healing took time, but each step along that journey was a reward in its own right.

Of course, it all went straight to hell.

Looking back, he berated himself for not anticipating this. Because no, healing wasn't instantaneous, and Steve still had some healing of his own to do. His demons refused to be held at bay forever.

He'd unconsciously been avoiding his house like the plague despite his initial desperation to sleep in his own bed. Later, he'd blamed his reluctance on not wanting to go near his house on Danny's recovery. He just wanted to be there for his partner, and it'd be easier to heal in a comfortable, familiar environment. Thus, he deceived himself into a false sense of security that shattered when tested.

Five-0 solved the homicide-blackmail case a week and one day after Steve arrived on the island. The multiple arrests earned praise from the Governor, military officials, and the press - a rarity for any law agency or task force. Overflowing with pride for his team, Steve offered to host a celebratory barbeque at his house and the team excitedly accepted.

Only Danny showed any hesitance, and not for the reason Steve expected. No, he was fine with the get-together but he was less than thrilled about the location. Three months apart failed to dull the detective's uncanny ability to read Steve like an open book, and he'd spotted the odd idiosyncrasy in Steve's behavior before the man himself had.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked on the drive over to Steve's house to set up for the party, hissing when his battered ribs halted his attempt to twist in his seat.

Putting every ounce of effort he had into not rolling his eyes, Steve nodded for the umpteenth time. "Yes, Danny, I'm sure. It makes the most sense, right? Your place and Tani's place are both too small and don't have a nice backyard area. Lou and Renee already hosted a huge party in the past week and I don't want to overwhelm them. I don't really understand what the big deal is here."

"You don't understand?" Danny shifted him his seat, hand rising from their place in his lap. "Well then, let me spell it out for you in capital letters. The 'big deal' is that you, my friend, haven't stepped foot in this house since the, uh, incident on the beach."

"The incident? Call it what it was, Danny - you fainted like a little girl."

Obviously, that wasn't quite right either, but Steve wasn't ready to fully face what happened - and what almost transpired - that night.

Normally, that barb would've diverted his partner into a furious rant that lasted the rest of the trip. This time, however, the only acknowledgement that it got was a glare. "My point is that you're acting weird about it. I thought after three months away that you would want to be in your own house for a while, but you refused to go near it. You even made Junior pick up the stuff that you needed rather than go yourself."

"That's because I didn't want to leave you alone."

"I am a grown man, Steven! I can be by myself for thirty minutes, especially since I don't do much but sleep these days."

Focusing on the next turn more than it necessarily warranted, Steve shrugged casually. "I strongly disagree."

A light touch on his arm startled him, and a glance towards the passenger's seat found cerulean eyes boring into him. "Hey, listen to me," Danny said softly, his voice carrying a weight that only showed itself when the man was truly worried. "A lot of terrible stuff has happened in that house to you and your family, and I know you don't really see it like that. But you avoiding this place all week tells me that there's something going on in that crazy head of yours and I don't want you to have to relive all that. Just… I have your back, alright?"

"Thanks, Danno, I appreciate that." And Steve genuinely did, but there was absolutely nothing to worry about. "I'm more concerned for you, though. It's only been a week since you wrecked your car and nearly cracked your head open. You gonna be okay for this?"

Now it was Danny's turn to roll his eyes. "I think I can handle spending time with people who've been at my house all week anyway."

"Do you still have a headache?"

"Seriously? I'm concussed, Steve! The headache never really goes away."

"Did you do your breathing exercises? Doc doesn't want you getting pneumonia on top of everything else."

"Geez, what are you, my mom?" Pulling into his driveway, Steve smirked as Danny punched him (gently) in the arm. "Yeah, I did my daily stint in hell, thanks very much. I've since decided that breathing is highly overrated."

The SEAL climbed out of the truck and moved to the passenger's side to help his partner, who batted his hands away peevishly. "Really?" Steve said, drawing out the word. "You do realize that breathing is required for talking, right?"

"I hate you so freakin' much. Walk ahead of me, I don't wanna deal with you."

Chuckling, Steve grabbed the groceries from the backseat and did exactly that. He ignored the low grumbling from behind him as he pulled out his keys to unlock the house. Stepping inside the house, he turned around and smirked. "See? Nothing to worry about. Do me a favor," he handed Danny a few of the grocery bags, "put these in the refrigerator for me."

Danny still looked rather skeptical, but accepted the bags and ambled towards the kitchen still grumbling under his breath. Meanwhile, Steve set the remaining bags on the coffee table and went to close the front door.

Later, he tried to come up with a reason for what happened next. Part of him blamed the mustiness of the house; Lou turned off the AC when no one was living here and the windows had been firmly shut for at least a week. Another part of him believed Danny somehow jinxed it. And of course, Murphy's Law held a dominant presence in his life, so it was somewhat to blame as well.

No matter the reason, he turned away from the closed door to face the living room and just… froze.

He couldn't move, couldn't even lift a finger even when he focused all his energy on it. Ice crept through his veins, stilling his heartbeat and freezing his breaths in his lungs. The silent ghost of the past that he could never seem to escape came and carved out his insides bit by bit, leaving behind a hollow husk where a man used to stand. As if that wasn't enough, his thoughts shattered into fragments and slipped between the fingers of his control.

It was like his soul had fled his body, watching dispassionately from above as he broke down below.

Desperately, he searched for something to fight, some semblance of something he could control to beat back this crippling effect holding him down.

Nothing. Only an empty living room with his father's blood, his own blood, Danny's blood spilled across the walls.

"Whatever these people want, Steve, don't give it to them. Don't you give it to them!"

"Whatever she wants you to do, Steve, don't do it. Huh? Don't give her anything!"

"My brother's dead, isn't he?"

"I have the person you care about most in the world."

"Then so's your father!"

"Don't allow another loved one to die because of your stubbornness."

BANG!

"Steve, hey, buddy. C'mon, SuperSEAL, snap out of it."

That voice. As familiar as his own name, soothing like the pull of the ocean's tide, grounding like the sand beneath his toes. It was enough to collect his shattered thoughts, cradling the broken pieces as they slowly melded together once more. And the not-so-hidden worry slowly melted the ice that locked his body in place. His eyes were the first to defrost and they desperately sought the source of the voice.

Danno. He tried to say the name, but his own voice refused to exit uncooperative lips.

But his partner, his best friend, never really needed words to understand him. His soul was laid bare to that man, like an open book only Detective Danny Williams could read. One look at his face told Danny everything he needed to know.

Shushing him, Danny shamelessly moved into his personal bubble and planted one hand on his chest while the other found its way to the back of his neck. "It's okay, Steve, I got you. You hear me? I'm here, okay, I'm here. Let's try breathing a little slower, alright?"

It was only then that Steve realized that air was exploding from his lungs, his chest heaving at a far-too-rapid pace. His hands finally unfroze, rising unconsciously to grasp Danny's wrist where his hand rested atop his galloping chest. And Danny, bless his heart, didn't flinch away.

Instead, he squeezed the taunt muscles in Steve's neck and continued the gentle flow of reassurance. Not once did he say 'I told you so' or make light of Steve's panic over absolutely nothing. He was just… there, like he always was. He talked about Grace and Charlie, he gave step-by-step instructions on how to make homemade raviolis, he ranked his favorite old Western movies, he gave a verbal tour of his childhood neighborhood in Jersey. His hands were a source of fire all by themselves, evaporating the ice clinging to his chest.

And slowly, Steve's soul settled back in his skin.

Still, the shadows lingered, pushing in from the corners of the house with only Danny's light holding them at bay. They niggled at the back of Steve's brain persistently, proving themselves impossible to ignore.

"Gotta get out," he rasped, interrupting Danny's spiel about good sandwich shops.

When did his voice learn to crack like that?

Without hesitation, Danny released his neck and guided him through the living room and out the laini doors. They kept stumbling along until Danny halted in the sand at the edge of the sea. As the water licked his toes and the smell of salty ocean waves filled the air, Steve managed to push the shadows aside until they were all but silent.

"Better?" Danny asked, the hand still encased in Steve's iron grip finding its way back to Steve's sternum.

Steve responded by plopping down right there in the sandy water, pulling Danny down with him. Squeezing Danny's wrist apologetically when the man hissed and cradled his ribs at the move, Steve found the horizon and focused on it. It had always been a calming thing for him, even before he was a sailor. As a kid, he imagined finding the spot where the sky touched the sea, a place that had to be absolutely magical.

Danny, for his part, said nothing. He didn't complain about the ocean soaking his clothes or each time a wave hit him a little too hard. He waited for Steve, as he always did.

"'M sorry, Danno," Steve finally broke the silence, his voice steadier than he thought it could be.

Already shaking his head, Danny patted his chest before dropping his hand back down to his lap. "You got nothing to be sorry for." He swallowed, eyes breaking away from Steve's face. "I, on the other hand, do have something I need to say."

That got Steve's attention. "What're you talking about?"

"I let you down, Steve." Scrubbing his free hand through his hair, Danny's mouth opened and closed several times as he struggled to find the right words. "I ignored your pain and glossed over the things that were bothering you, and I'm so, so sorry for that. I told you I would always have your back and I failed. You needed me and I wasn't there for you."

Steve frowned. "What the hell, Danny? Are you forgetting that you literally moved into my house without asking after my mom died to make sure I was okay?"

Danny's answering smile was full of regret. "Too little, too late, babe. Let's face it, your problems didn't start when Doris died, but I stood by and did nothing while you were struggling. I should've been there for you sooner, supported you more. And when you mentioned you wanted to leave, I was selfish and reacted poorly when I should've been bearing your burdens. You're my brother, Steve, and I failed to love and support you. So please... please forgive me."

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Steve found the horizon once more. "'Course I do, Danno."

Relief colored his partner's face, a small smile quirking his lips. "You've made a lot of promises this week, Steven, but now it's my turn. I'm in your corner a thousand percent and I always will be. No matter what comes or what you need - even if I don't like it - you can always count on me."

His friend's apology and subsequent promise lifted a burden he didn't even realize he was carrying, the weight of caring for others all alone and wondering if they reciprocated his loyalty. Admitting failure on that front showed Danny's devotion more strongly than a perfect friendship ever could, and his fierce promise only ensured it.

But guilt quickly replaced the dissipating burden, and words popped out of Steve's mouth before he could think about them.

"I can't stay here, Danny."

Danny nodded far more nonchalantly than expected. "I kinda figured. We can just go straight home if you want. I can call Lou and tell him the barbeque's off."

"No, I mean…" Steve squeezed his eyes shut. "I can't stay here… in Hawaii. I thought maybe I could handle it, but there's just too much here. I can't keep it all out, can't fight off all the crap I've been through here. Y'know?"

That last word was spoken like a desperate plea, begging Danny to understand. However, the tension setting in his friend's muscles stifled the SEAL's hope for comprehension. And he hadn't even gotten to the good part yet, the part he'd been putting off talking about for the entire week.

But to his surprise, Danny slowly nodded - though he stubbornly avoided meeting his gaze. "So you're leaving again," he said, his voice flat but not angry.

Still, he winced. "I don't know if I have a choice. I need to get my head right, Danny, and I don't think I can do that here. All this… it might be too much. I need a fresh start."

"You can't run from your problems, Steven. All this isn't gonna go away in another city, alright? You gotta face it."

Dipping his free hand in the incoming wave, Steve watched as the water trickled through his fingers. "I'm not running from any of it now. Yeah, I kinda did three months ago, but I got help." He paused, risking another glance at Danny. "I talked to the shrink about this possibility actually - before I came back - and she said this might happen. 'You can't heal if you're stuck in the same environment as all the trauma,' she said, or somethin' like that."

Silence. The air was only filled with the sound of the ocean crashing against the beach amidst the wind rustling through the palm trees. Through it all, Steve felt Danny's hand tremble beneath his own.

"Okay," he said, voice barely audible above the waves, "okay. I just want you to be happy, Steve… that's all I ever wanted. You've spent your entire life puttin' other people's needs first; it's high time you did something for yourself. If leaving is what needs to happen, then leave and do what you gotta do, alright? I, uh, I give you my blessing, as it were."

Though his words were supportive, spoken with all the sincerity in the world, Danny's hands betrayed him.

See, Steve learned at the beginning of their partnership that the feisty Jersey detective's words were often a smokescreen. No, if you wanted to actually know how Danny felt about something, you watched his hands, his posture, and his eyes.

His hands never lied, his posture told a thousand unspoken tales, and his eyes were the window to his soul. Once Steve learned to read Danny Williams, all it took was one look to judge his level of well-being.

And right now, Danny's hands were stubbornly still - with the exception of that worrysome tremor. His posture was somehow slightly slumped and stiff at the same time, as well as closed off. Most telling of all, he refused to look in Steve's direction - hiding the portal to his soul.

Proceed with caution.

Perhaps it was time to show all of his cards.

"I know this is probably coming out of nowhere - -"

"Nah," Danny interrupted, his voice deceptively light. "I started to suspect when I overheard you and Lou talking. I just didn't want to believe it, you know? I thought you'd tell me about something big like this before you told anyone else." He shrugged. "I mean, I kinda assumed you'd talk to me before Lou, but it doesn't really matter."

Now it was Steve's turn to be caught off-guard. He frowned at his partner, silently begging the man to look at him. "Danny, I didn't tell anyone about this. Hell, I didn't know for sure until now - I really thought I'd be able to stay. Lou and I were talking about my position at Five-0. I'm stepping down… and Lou figured it out all by himself."

Danny's posture relaxed slightly as he dared to look at Steve's face. "Well, of course you're stepping down. You can't exactly lead a Hawaiian task force if you're not in Hawaii."

"Even if I was staying, I'd still be retiring. Look, you were right." Squeezing Danny's wrist, Steve inwardly willed Danny's hands to still their trembling and swallowed nervously. "Doing that for the rest of our lives wouldn't end well. The restaurant thing was a good idea, but we tried it at the wrong time. We weren't ready to be done back then. But now..."

"What, are you gonna open a restaurant in Timbuktu? Need I remind you that you're a terrible chef? You can't just serve overcooked, grilled steak, Steven."

"Will you shut up for like two seconds? I need to ask you something!"

That got Danny's attention. He turned, still sitting in water, and fully faced Steve.

Nerves rising once more, Steve awkwardly ducked his head and tried to hide the pink creeping up his cheeks. "Will you come with me?" he finally blurted out.

Silence.

Scared now, Steve's head shot up as he desperately searched his friend's gaze for the rejection he knew would be there. It was too much to ask, too much to hope for, too much - -

But Danny didn't seem incredulous or openly opposed, he just looked… perplexed.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, I just thought…" Danny trailed off. Now it was his turn to search Steve's gaze. "I thought you'd go after Catherine. I know she showed up on the plane, and she told you she would've accepted your proposal a couple years ago. Thought you guys would give it another go."

Steve didn't bother asking how Danny knew Catherine joined him on the plane. "Catherine still has things she wants to do, missions to go on, people to save. She's still doing what she loves and I respect that. If she'd accepted my proposal all those years ago, I think we could've been good - had a family, built a life here. But that ship has sailed. Now…"

He paused, taking a deep breath. "Now, I want to be an old man sittin' on a beach watching sunsets with his best friend. Was kinda planning on it, actually."

Wide eyed, Danny visibly swallowed and forced his emotions down. "I thought you said you were leaving," he whispered, going for casual and completely falling short.

"I said I was leaving here, not leaving you. I promised, remember?" A particularly hard wave pushed both men back, but Steve maintained his hold on Danny's scarred wrist. "We don't have to be here for that plan, Danny. There are other beaches. Y'know, places that don't remind us of all the terrible things we've seen and experienced."

He was botching this, he knew. He'd mentally rehearsed asking Danny to come with him on his little quest to find 'their' beach for a few days, but he thought he'd have more time and more control over the environment. Now, it was coming out diced and spliced, glued sloppily back together in a barely coherent semblance of a request.

And worse, Danny still hadn't responded or given any indication of his thoughts regarding all of this.

More than a little distressed now, Steve reached across and took Danny's hand so that both of his hands were clasped against his partner's nearest limb. "If you don't wanna to do this, I understand. It's a lot to ask, especially with Charlie. If you want to stay… I can stay too. I'll figure it out, I will, and we'll - -"

"Steve, stop," Danny gently interrupted the SEAL's rambling. "I'm not saying no; I'm just thinkin' things through."

"I know, I know. Charlie's here, and I completely understand if you want to stay here to be close to him."

"Actually, Rachel's been wanting to move back to the mainland since she and Stan divorced. She really pushed for it when Grace went to college and she got a bunch of job offers in different cities on the mainland." Danny shrugged. "That's why it didn't work between us when we tried again. I couldn't leave Five-0 and you and the life I'd built here. But now…"

He trailed off and Steve's gut clenched.

Please, please, please.

Finally (after a million years for Steve), Danny let loose a soft chuckle, then hissed as his ribs protested. "Can't believe I'm agreeing to live with a stubborn, control-freak Navy SEAL. I think I really have gone insane."

"So you're in?" A hopeful, breathless query.

Danny reached over and patted their entwined hands. "Yeah, I'm in, you goof. Lord help me."

Steve felt an ultra-wide smile tug at his cheeks. No words were needed in that moment, not that there was anything he could say that would capture the sheer joy he felt at Danny's acceptance. Still grinning like a lunatic, he leaned over and planted a playful kiss on Danny's forehead.

And received a hand pushing his face away and several four-letter words for his troubles. Which only made his smile grow.

"This better not become a regular thing," Danny grumbled, wiping his forehead. "It makes me look like a freaking damsel in distress. Plus, all the ladies are gonna think we're married or somethin' stupid like that."

"Eh, who cares what they think?" Steve rose, wet clothes sticking to his body, and helped Danny get to his feet. "Besides, I think you're past your window to go to bars and pick up women."

Danny groaned, cradling his ribs with his free hand. He wavered on his feet as a dizzy spell struck him without warning, but Steve was more than pleased to notice that his friend hadn't let go of his hand. Eventually, he straightened and squinted his eyes open to look at Steve. "Concussions suck."

"I think that's our cue to go in and dry off. I'll call Lou and tell 'in he's hosting the party, then I'll watch TV while you nap."

"Jerk. I'm not napping now; I wanna hear your incredible plan for whatever this new thing we're doing." Danny paused, smirking at his partner. "You do have a plan, right? Like an actual plan, not one of your half-baked schemes based solely on a gut feeling?"

Steve glanced back at the horizon and grinned. "I got a few ideas."

Rolling his eyes, Danny led the way back to the house. "Ideas, he says! Ideas are not equivalent to a plan, Steven! Why the hell did I agree to this?"

Though his rant continued, a light squeeze against Steve's hand told the SEAL everything he needed to know.

"I believe in you, I believe in us. That's all that matters."

Danny was with him - his backup, his best friend, his brother. What more could he possibly need?

Chapter Text

Don't let your head hang low

You've seen the darkest skies, I know

Let your heart run, child, like horses in the wild

So take my hand and home we'll go

- "Home We'll Go" by Walk Off the Earth

In the end, their "plan" became more of an ever-evolving cobbled-together trajectory. Neither of them were particularly in a rush. After all, there was still a lot that they had to tie up in Hawaii between their retirement, houses, Five-0's transition of power, and Danny's health. All in all, they ended up staying on the island for another month to wrap everything up.

Some things went more smoothly than others. Their retirement actually was the easiest out of everything, especially since Danny had already done a lot of his own paperwork two years ago when he considered retiring. Not to mention that the Governor was expecting the move and put up minimal fuss.

Announcing the move to the rest of the team, however, had been fairly challenging and emotionally taxing. Lou and Adam both anticipated the move, but the younger members were more than a little shaken by the news. They still saw Steve and Danny as the intrepid, indestructible duo, missing the cracks beneath the surface.

After several meetings, Lou was appointed the new head of Five-0, though he declared that he intended to take a less lead-from-the-front role. He was getting old too, after all, and didn't want to sacrifice his own well-being for a job he'd more than likely retire from in less than ten years. His decision actually created a more stable command hierarchy for the team, something that greatly pleased the Governor.

Surprisingly, Tani received the nod for the 2IC spot since she had the most cop training and seniority on Five-0. She would be the boots on the ground commander that complimented Lou's more investigative role. Adam, Junior, Quinn, and Lincoln Cole would fall in-line behind her based on seniority and training experience. No one protested Tani's appointment, and Junior was practically beaming with pride when Tani excitedly accepted.

Steve didn't fully understand the knowing glint in Danny's eye at the official announcement of her promotion. He just chalked it up to his partner's uncanny perceptive skills.

Unfortunately, both Steve and Danny had to endure a few press conferences of their own, which Steve attempted to shield Danny from as much as possible. Dealing with the press was far from his forte, but he willingly took it in the chin to keep scrutiny from his partner. Though it helped that the great head of Five-0 stepping down greatly overshadowed Danny's quiet retirement. The detective preferred it that way, always dodging the spotlight since joining Five-0.

No, Danny didn't want attention or praise; he wanted to do his job well and be recognized for his work by the people in his life who actually mattered. His team, Steve, his kids. His humility was another thing people often missed, including Steve himself.

Their conundrum of their houses actually had a fairly simple solution. Danny, who was technically renting the house from a very kind older widow, heavily hinted that Quinn was looking for a better place when he vacated the property. His landlady, being an absolute sweetheart, was more than happy to let them stay for an undetermined amount of time and pay on a month-by-month basis until they left.

Steve immediately offered his house to Tani and Junior, renting it to them privately for far less than a market-value lease. He would've just given it to them for free, but he wanted to honor Mary's portion of the deed - not that she really cared. With renting, it gave himself and Danny some income whilst they wandered the earth. Still, it was more than a bargain that they readily jumped on.

Danny predicted a proposal in the not-so-distant future, and Steve couldn't help but agree.

When he stepped back and looked at Five-0 - this team-turned-ohana - he refused to squash the swell of pride that engulfed him. This was truly his legacy, his and Danny's. What they'd built together with Chin and Kono and reshaped alone would have massive impact for generations. And despite all the blood, sweat, and tears, he knew that he and Danny were leaving the island better than they found it.

When he hesitantly mentioned this to Danny, he smiled gently and patted Steve's back. "You did good, babe," he'd murmured with every ounce of sincerity in the entire world. "Your dad would've been proud of you, y'know."

Yeah, Steve cried a little bit after that.

The thing that held them up the longest was easily Danny's health, which directly correlated to Danny's stubbornness. The poor guy was terrible at taking care of himself and didn't handle others taking care of him much better. Not to mention that, since this was one of many concussions, it took far longer than normal for him to get back on even keel. Busted ribs also didn't exactly heal overnight. Furthermore, his recovery from being kidnapped three months ago was still ongoing since he hadn't exactly followed his doctor's instructions.

And that wasn't even touching the deep emotional and mental trauma Danny endured. He presented signs of PTSD, not that it mattered. Trauma was trauma, label or no label. Worse, Steve's abrupt decision to leave after the Mei incident added a whole host of other issues to his partner's plate.

It was heartbreaking to see just how far his partner had fallen, especially when a piece of it was his responsibility.

While time doesn't heal all wounds, it does scar some over enough to move on and live again. It was proving true for Steve, who still had his own 'stuff' to deal with and heal from, but he also saw signs of it in his partner. Some days were better than others, but that upward trend slowly became visible.

Danny's nightmares didn't stop, but he fell back asleep a little easier after each one. The dark circles beneath his eyes lightened as he got the rest he desperately needed. It helped with his physical woes, and Steve celebrated the nights when Danny made it a full eight hours without waking up in a fit of terror.

His appetite was still rather small, but he willingly ate a little more each day. His ribs were still painfully visible, but he no longer looked like a malnourished corpse. Steve used every tactic in the book to get his partner to eat, from those protein/milkshake hybrids to forcing him to make some fancy Italian recipe from his grandmother's cookbook. As a result, Danny graduated from 'malnourished' to 'skinnier than normal.' Still a win in Steve's book, even if the doctor would've liked to see more progress.

Unfortunately, he still zoned out, but the episodes became less and less frequent. He smiled more often, his movements became more animated as he bantered with the SEAL, and his body language relaxed bit by bit. Sometimes he jumped when Steve walked into the room, sometimes he didn't. There were good days and bad days and every sort in between for both men, but they dealt with each one together.

And slowly, Danny's hands stopped their intermittent trembling until the tremor only appeared after a nightmare or if he went too long without food. That, Steve decided, was one of the biggest wins of all.

Bad days, however, intermingled with the good. One morning, Steve woke up to find Danny nowhere to be found; not in the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, kids' rooms, or anywhere else in the house. 'Panic' was too tame of a word to describe Steve's emotional response to finding empty room after empty room, preparing to call Five-0 and scour the entire island…

… until he glanced out the back window into the backyard and spotted a tuft of blond hair barely visible in the weighted down hammock.

Prepared to utterly berate the man for scaring him like that, Steve stormed out into the backyard - only to stop short when he glimpsed his partner. Danny was stretched out in the hammock, eyes closed and face twisted slightly in distress. Dressed in a too-big hoodie, his arms wrapped around his own torso in a sort of self-embrace. Worse, his face was twisted in an odd look of residual distress; not like when he battled a nightmare, but the look of weary defeat of a sleepless, interrupted night.

It was enough to stop Steve in his tracks and silence the worried rebuke on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he plopped down on the grass beside the hammock and kept watch, like he'd always done.

Like he sensed the former SEAL's presence, Danny grunted and stirred a moment later. He made it about halfway through stretching before his healing ribs stopped him, earning a low growl of pain and annoyance. Eyes slowly opening, his gaze landed on Steve with unnatural keenness for someone who just woke up.

"Are you watchin' me sleep? That's beyond creepy."

His tone lacked its typical bite, almost like Danny was trying too hard to appear normal. Unfortunately, the whole 'sleeping in a hammock' thing completely nullified the attempt. And Steve was more than happy to call him out on it.

"Funny, I was kinda thinking the creepy thing was your disappearing act. Last I checked, I fell asleep and you were right there next to me complaining about how the Mets gave up a six-run lead to the Pirates in the ninth inning. I didn't even hear you get up."

"I can be quiet when I want to be. Besides, I don't know how you can hear anything over your own snoring."

"Cute, Danno. Very cute." Steve studied him, noting the dark circles and pronounced wrinkles around his red-rimmed eyes. "Trouble sleeping?"

Danny shrugged and didn't answer, which was an answer all by itself.

Getting to his feet, Steve loomed over his still-lounging partner and offered him a hand. "You wanna come in while I make breakfast?"

He looked at the hand for a moment before sighing and accepting it. "I don't feel like eating, Steve. Please don't push, alright?"

The request - more of a plea - was voiced in a tone that shattered Steve's heart. With his partner no longer in the 'malnourished' category, he could afford to miss a meal. "Alright, but lunch is non-negotiable. Got it?"

Danny didn't look too happy about it. He looked even less pleased while he was puking up said-lunch less than thirty minutes after choking down half a sandwich.

It was enough that Steve nearly canceled their afternoon appointment with the Governor, but Danny insisted on going with every ounce of his stubborn prowess. That decision was negated when Steve stopped at a red light, turned, and found Danny staring blankly ahead, trembling like a single leaf on a barren tree in a tornado.

"Damnit, Daniel," he growled, quickly flicking his blinkers on and pulling the car over as soon as the light turned green. He threw his door open, ignoring how traffic whizzed by mere feet away, and sprinted for the passenger's side.

Manhandling Danny so he faced the open doorway, Steve gently clasped his freezing fingers. His wrists were scarred, sensitive, and definitely a trigger, but Steve found this hold to be far less invasive. Squeezing intermittently, he was pleased to note Danny's eyes slowly focusing on his face.

"You with me, Danno?"

Danny eventually nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Got lost there for a sec."

"Don't worry about it." C'mon, Danno, don't hide from me. "What was it this time?"

Reluctance oozed from his partner's expression, but he eventually fessed up. "Johanna. The car accident."

Steve winced. Yeah, that was a less-than-stellar memory. Fresh too. "Anything I can do to help?"

But Danny only shrugged, flinching as another car flew past at a higher-than-the speed-limit velocity. "Cars aren't my friend sometimes. I'll get past it."

That was a colossal understatement if Steve had ever heard one. Between Grace's car accident, the fatal one with Johanna, the car chase turned kidnapping, that car accident with the perp less than a month ago - -

Wait.

"Danny," he said slowly, intensity coloring his tone, "do you get flashbacks in the car often?"

Hesitation, then, "Sometimes. What the hell is this about?" Danny got awfully defensive awfully quick.

"That car accident with the perp the day I flew in with Kono… you wouldn't normally pull a risky move like that. You prefer to corner perps in chases like that." Steve's eyes locked on Danny's, seeing the truth there. "You had a flashback, didn't you? While you were driving… and you lost control of the car!"

Shame lighting a caliginous flame in those blue orbs, Danny winced. Realizing he was squeezing his friend's hands far tighter than the situation warranted, Steve loosened his grip and took a deep breath. He wouldn't get angry, he wouldn't; it wasn't Danny's fault.

"Technically, I didn't lose control," Danny whispered, dropping eye contact. "Just couldn't stop in time and hit him."

"Does it really matter?"

So much for not getting angry.

He tamped it down quickly before Danny could respond in kind. As Danny's expression morphed into defensive ire, Steve released his friend's hands and pulled the man into a fierce embrace. "Why didn't you say anything?" he murmured in his partner's ear. "You could've died, Danny. Why didn't you tell me?"

Arms hesitantly returned the embrace as Danny relaxed in his hold. "Wouldn't have changed anything. And… I guess I didn't want you to know how bad it had gotten."

"I don't care. Next time, say something. And you're banned from driving unless I'm in the car too."

"Neanderthal control freak."

Like he said, good days and bad days. Still, the upward trend was encouraging.

The other thing that delayed their departure was an inability to decide where they wanted to settle. Danny kept advocating for New Jersey - at least a visit, anyway - while Steve leaned towards wanting to start completely fresh. He wasn't opposed to visiting his best friend's childhood stomping grounds, but he didn't want to stay there permanently.

However, that problem was solved a month and a week after Steve's homecoming in the form of a phone call from an old friend. A wide grin crossed the former SEAL's face when he saw the name on caller ID.

"It's been far too long, brah."

A low chuckle that sounded like the ocean breeze on a cloudless evening answered him. "And whose fault is that?"

"Probably mine. Never been one for keeping in touch." Glancing in the kitchen at Danny, who was doing dishes while FaceTiming Grace, Steve settled on the couch. "You're losing your accent a little, you know that?"

"Well, that's what happens when you're surrounded by haoles 24/7 for almost three years. You start blending in."

"Nah, not you, buddy. You probably still wear aloha shirts to work every day. They can't knock da island outta the infamous Chin Ho Kelly." Resting his feet on the coffee table, Steve contentedly watched Danny's hands dance as he explained something to Grace. "Besides, this place has a way of pulling you back."

"Well, I still got my contacts there, that's for sure. They're still passing me tips on Hawaiian crime." Chin chuckled again, and Steve could practically feel his warm smile through the phone. "Speaking of, I heard some stuff through the coconut wireless that you and Danny retired. And now Lou's in charge, right?"

Shaking his head, he stared up at the ceiling in a sort of awe. "I didn't realize your network extended all the way to San Francisco, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Yeah, we're officially retired and Lou's the new head of Five-0. Plus we got some really great new guys… you'd be impressed, Chin."

"I'm sure I would. You've built a formidable force. Haoles here are still looking across the ocean and learning from Five-0's tactics."

"Good thing San Francisco has you, considering those 'tactics' were heavily influenced by you and Betty."

"Ah, Betty." Chin sighed wistfully. "Now that was a fine weapon. How's she doing?"

"She's been adopted by Lou. He's good with a shotgun, but you looked way more badass."

"Reminiscing about the good old days, I see." Chin's voice morphed into a more serious tone. "Maybe you'll like my proposition."

Stiffening slightly, Steve glanced towards the kitchen once more and noted Danny's rare relaxed posture. "Danny and I are done with police work, Chin. We've already sacrificed far too much for it."

"Not what I had in mind. Just hear me out." Across the line, Steve heard some papers shuffling before Chin continued. "So the SFPD has been looking for some standout cops to teach seminars at our police academy, not just for new recruits but for current officers. Ironically enough, the LAPD heard about it and wants the same. The goal is to equip all officers to handle any situation so our task forces don't get stretched too thin. The problem is that most people we'd consider to teach are either still on active duty or don't particularly want to."

"So you want us to come teach them?" Steve mulled it over a bit. "What kind of classes are we talking about?"

"Tactics, mostly, but some other things as well. You could work with ex-military transitioning to the police force, Danny could teach profiling and investigation methods on massive cases. It'd be a mixed bag, but you all could choose what you want. I know you're trying to heal and avoid the more graphic side of things and this won't even get close to that."

Rubbing his forehead, Steve deflected. "I don't know, Chin. I gotta talk to Danny first. It sounds like a good offer though."

"I haven't even gotten to the best part yet." A touch of excitement snuck into Chin's normally placid voice. "When I pitched this idea to the Mayor and Governor, he was so pumped about it that he threw in a little extra incentive. If you sign on and agree to teach these classes here and occasionally in LA, you'll be paid and housed. The Governor of California is offering to sell you one of his vacation houses on the coast near San Francisco for next to nothing; your combined signing bonus will essentially cover it."

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway and Steve nearly jumped through the roof. Danny stood there, towel in hand and an amused look on his face, and completely ignored his glare. "You might wanna close your mouth," he stage-whispered. "Your jaw is literally on the floor, babe. What's going on? Who's on the phone?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Chin, gimme a sec. Mr. Impatient just walked in and - -"

"Chin? I wanna talk to him!"

"Danny, cut it out, alright? You can wait until - -"

But Danny swooped in and snatched the phone from his hand before escaping triumphantly into the kitchen. Despite his outward annoyance, Steve couldn't quench the joy bubbling in his stomach at the move. Yes, Danny was showing more signs of life, finally.

He wondered what his friend would say when he heard Chin's idea. It seemed too good to be true, but this was Chin. Practical, down-to-earth Chin. No way he would pitch this if it was anything less than what it seemed. And he certainly wouldn't pitch it if he didn't think it was a good idea.

Danny's shouted "What?" from the kitchen unearthed a smile, and Steve hoisted himself off the couch to amble into the kitchen.

Stepping into the room, he found Danny standing stock still with the phone still pressed to his ear and shock written all over his face. Gently, he pried the phone from Danny's fingers and said, "Chin? You still there?"

"I think I broke Danny."

Steve chuckled, rubbing his friend's shoulder. "Maybe a bit. He'll start talkin' my ear off in no time though, so don't worry about it."

That earned a laugh from Chin, a sound Steve hadn't realized how much he missed until he heard it. "Listen, get back to me when you figure out an answer. I'll send you the address for the house in the meantime so you guys can look it over. Who knows, maybe I'll see you in person soon."

After the requisite goodbyes, Steve hung up and turned expectantly to Danny. "Well?"

Still in awe, Danny shook his head. "Unbelievable. Chin's a miracle worker, I tell you. How the hell did he get us all that?"

"It's usually better not to ask questions," he replied with a grin. "Chin's a clever guy and insanely good at getting what he wants. He'd make a great con man."

"Oh Lord, can you imagine? He's already the coolest guy I know, but that's somehow infinitely cooler."

Pouting, Steve bopped Danny on the shoulder. "Coolest guy you know? What about me?"

"Eh, you're somewhere in the mid-teens of that list."

"For that, you're making your own lunch."

He was joking, of course. If left up to Danny, he'd forget to make lunch altogether.

"So, thoughts? It's a pretty good offer, better than anything we've come up with."

Chewing his lip pensively, Danny started drying the dishes. "It comes with housing and a salary too. Might be nice to have something to do, considering you get bored if you go more than two hours without an 'activity'."

"I don't wanna hear it since you're just as bad, Danno." Steve's scowl quickly melted as Danny smirked back. He started putting the dishes away while Danny continued drying. "Still, does it ruin our whole retirement plan? This might be the same demon with a different face."

Danny hummed neutrally, expression thoughtful. "I don't think so. It's more… clinical, y'know. Besides, Chin said we could choose our own schedule and have some say in the topics, right? That'll help us avoid potential trouble spots." A wistful smile lit up his face. "I actually kinda liked teaching, y'know, for that undercover mission."

"Eric said you were pretty good." Yeah, Steve could see Danny as a teacher. Hell, the man had already partially trained nearly half of Hawaii's top cops, including himself, Kono, Tani, and Junior. "And this time, it'll actually be a topic you know a lot about."

"What about you, huh? What're you thinking about all this?"

Steve shrugged. "I think it'd be pretty cool to teach. We'd definitely be more interesting than most of the suits that talk at those seminar things." Danny's damn straight earned a chuckle. "Plus, Chin's right there, Kono spends a fair amount of time in California, Grace goes to college in California, and Rachel mentioned San Francisco as one of her preferred options so we'd be close to Charlie. Seems to all align pretty well."

With a sly grin, Danny handed Steve a glass. "We could go to Jersey for Christmas. You deserve to see what a massive family holiday looks like, buddy. That's a whole other traumatic experience you've completely missed out on in your very-storied but slightly-warped existence."

"Don't push your luck, Danno."

~H50~

Ironically, they never actually verbalized their final decision to accept Chin's offer. Sure, they told Chin and the team and even Danny's primary physician to make sure Danny was up for the trip, but they never said it to each other. It was an unspoken move that didn't seem real until they were seated on a plane - Danny in the window seat and Steve on the aisle - with the pilot asking them to buckle their seatbelts. Even now, Danny couldn't resist the urge to pinch himself.

"Will you cut it out? Geez, you're gonna leave bruises."

Though Steve's expression was peeved, his eyes held the same mix of wonder and disbelief as Danny's own. Like something inside him couldn't believe that they were moving across the ocean as civilian-housemates. Danny understood the feeling. Despite shipping the bulk of their stuff out to Chin earlier that week, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just a long vacation of sorts.

This wasn't exactly the future either of them had in mind back when they were in their twenties. But now, Danny couldn't think of anything he'd rather do.

"You wanna explain the sudden urge to pinch your skin black and blue?"

Danny barely resisted the urge to punch his friend, choosing to glare at him instead.

"It's weird," he finally voiced all those feelings. "I always used to think I'd move off the island, but now that it's actually happening… I don't know. I thought I'd be goin' to Jersey or be with Rachel and Grace or chasing Grace when Rachel dragged her to some other hellhole, and I definitely didn't think I'd be sad to leave."

He left every avenue open for Steve to tease him, he realized, and braced himself accordingly. But Steve only smiled, eyes soft and filled with something he lacked the words to identify. "I knew you liked Hawaii, Danno."

"Like? No, 'like' is a very strong word, Steven. I wouldn't say 'like' - more like 'tolerated.'" And though it was true, Danny still couldn't help but attempt to articulate the warm feeling in his chest when he thought of Hawaii; the reason he refused to leave when Rachel asked.

"But the ohana you built and dragged me into… now, that I more than liked. I don't think I could find anything like it if I searched the entire world over. Because of it, this, uh, this pineapple infested hellhole became home." Glancing out the window, he nodded to himself and murmured, "I don't know how, but it did."

"Home," Steve said softly beside him, his voice weighted with thoughtfulness and something akin to revelation. "I used to say that the island had a way of drawing us back. But the people make it home - are my home - not the island." He shrugged and steadily met Danny's gaze. "You're home to me, pal."

Danny didn't need words to agree. Patting his best friend's knee echoed the sentiment clearly.

The plane started its taxi to the runway and Danny found himself lost in the passing view of the buildings that had grown all too familiar in the past ten years. Steve was leaning over to look out the window too, invading Danny's personal space shamelessly, and just as enamoured. As the plane sped up and took off, both sighed simultaneously when the island fell away beneath their feet.

"You think we'll ever come back?" Danny asked, arm bracing his still-sore ribs as the pressure changed.

Steve hummed neutrally, his fingers unconsciously landing on the pulse point on Danny's wrist. "Definitely."

"What makes you so sure?" Not that Danny disagreed, but he wanted to hear Steve's reasoning.

That question earned a lengthy pause, long enough that he wondered if Steve would answer at all. But eventually, the former SEAL shrugged. "Because our ohana's there and I don't plan on never seeing them again."

Danny couldn't agree more.

They were silent for a while, lost in thought as the seatbelt light turned off when they reached cruising altitude. Stewardesses began circulating the aisles and Danny was arguing with his spinning head - touchy from the lingering concussion combined with the altitude shift - when Steve broke the silence.

"Y'know, people always asked me what I was gonna do when you left Hawaii. I mean, with Grace in college and everything, a lot of people just assumed you'd go back to Jersey. And even though I insisted you'd never leave, a part of me always wondered. I even thought about what I'd do if you tried."

"Turns out you beat me to it."

He didn't say it in an accusatory way, but Steve's shoulders hunched nonetheless. His actions after Danny's kidnapping were still a sore subject for both men, and Danny inwardly winced at the poorly-timed quip. Patting Steve's hand, which was still curled around Danny's wrist, he offered a silent apology.

"I don't know how you did it." Steve shook his head. "Y'know, let me walk away like that."

Now it was Danny's turn to shrug. "Wasn't easy. It definitely helped that I could barely get out of my chair." He allowed himself a small grin before sombering. "I've spent my entire life chasin' people. Rachel, Grace, you, Matt… I guess I got tired of people running away. Just couldn't do it anymore. So I stopped and hoped maybe you'd come back someday - and you did."

"I'm not leaving you again, Danno."

Sighing, Danny leaned in so their shoulders bumped together. "I know, Steve."

"Just makin' sure."

Deciding to lighten the mood, he gently poked the SEAL's ribs. "Hey, so what were you gonna do if I tried to move back to Jersey?"

Steve's cheshire smirk was more than enough answer. "Drag you back kicking and screaming, of course. No way I'd let you leave."

"You're a terrible person, you know that? A complete and utter control freak!"

And though their banter continued, Danny found himself completely infatuated with this spark popping in his chest as the plane took them further and further away from Hawaii. Away from the site of so much heartache. Away from a place of many joyful memories. There was some degree of trepidation, some sadness, but also a faint stirring of something that grew stronger every passing second.

Hope.

Hope for a future that didn't involve violence and death. Confidence in the legacy they'd build and determination to continue building on that foundation. And above all, a deep yearning to grow old side by side on that elusive beach, bickering until the sun finished its ellipse and set below the horizon.

For the rest of the flight, he basked in it all. He had his best friend beside him and they were both still breathing. Just this once, the negative outcome that always seemed to plague his steps remained only a 'what if.'

There was still pain ahead, still the laborious work of healing left to toil through, but so much more joy and triumph overshadowed it all. Perhaps for the first time, the future actually excited Danny.

But as the pilot announced their final approach into San Francisco, one thing absolutely needed to be said. The delight of starting this new adventure required all they'd left behind to be expressed. It was impossible to ignore, even if it earned an 'I told you so' from Steve.

"I'm gonna miss it," he declared softly, grinning as a smile slowly grew on Steve's face as the gravity of the statement sank in. "We did pretty good, partner."

Steve didn't tease, not that Danny thought he would. They'd found their balance, the soft joy of a comfortable relationship where reading the other's emotions came naturally. "We did, didn't we? Who would've thought, huh? Y'know, considering where we started."

Pointing guns at each other with fingers on the trigger, a couple of gunshot wounds, furious shouting, punches thrown.

Yeah, it was fairly ironic. And, whether it was the emotion of it all or the giddiness of having his friend beside him, Danny was feeling rather philosophical. Jabbing his friend's ribs, he couldn't help but wink.

"Good thing the first chapter is never the last."

Steve's jaw dropped. "How in the world can you say you're not sensitive with a straight face? That was borderline poetic!"

"Hey, eloquence has nothing to do with sensitivity, Steven! 'Course, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Y'know, considering how your primary form of communication was grunting like a caveman 'til you met me!"

As the plane descended towards the runway, the people around the two bickering men couldn't decide whether to be amused or ask the flight attendant for earplugs.

~H50~

Somehow, Chin had undersold the whole 'practically free housing/guaranteed job with flexible hours' thing. Which, all things considered, shouldn't have been remotely possible.

But after ten years of defying the impossible, they almost should've expected it.

The vacation home the freakin' Governor of California sold to them for practically pennies truly lived up to its name. An hour and a half drive outside of San Francisco, it was situated atop a small bluff with trees surrounding it. It wasn't excessively large or lavish, clearly meant to be a private, little abode for quick trips while he was in the area. However, it was more than enough for a divorce, penny-pinching ex-cop and a spartan ex-military man.

Surrounded by forest, a long driveway led up to a little Mediterranean two-story house with white plaster walls and red-tiled roof. It had a simple, open-concept interior fully furnished with brand new furniture - clearly picked out by Chin. A brief tour revealed four bedrooms between the two floors, three bathrooms, a huge kitchen, small dining room, living area, and a rather large office. And though the yard was non-existent, a concrete ramp glided down the small cliff and onto a private stretch of beach.

The instant Steve caught sight of the sea, something inside him settled - like a piece of a puzzle snapping in place.

Dimly, he heard Danny asking how the hell Chin managed to get them this and Chin's chuckle accompanying a quiet answer. However, he was far too caught up in the wonder of the moment to decipher the answer.

Peace. He'd caught a glimpse of it, and a mere taste was enough to send him reeling.

Every day he uncovered new snippets of it, not fully within his grasp quite yet but something to continue striving after. He spotted it in Danny's fading scars, in softening gun callouses, in broader smiles and deepening laugh lines. He heard it in Grace's giggles as she learned to cook, in Charlie's squeals as he ran around on the beach, in Chin's low voice laced with laughter as he told tales, in Kono's delighted teasing as she dropped by unannounced, in Mary's sarcasm and Joan's questions and other members of the ohana's phone calls. He smelled it in the wind from the sea and in the kitchen where Danny experimented with new recipes.

And gradually, he saw it in his own reflection. The lightening of eyes that had been far too serious for far too long, a smile-wrinkled forehead, and the relaxed set of his shoulders were physical manifestations of a hard-won reward.

Of course, it wasn't instantaneous or constant. Both men attended therapy, weekly individual sessions and the occasional group session. Dealing with past trauma left a man more weary than even some high-stress cases Steve had worked. They learned early on to make sure they never went on the same day so at least one person would be functional.

Nightmares still ran rampant for both men. They each had a room of their own, but often found themselves curled up together in the same bed. Though they didn't talk about it, they went with it and it worked somehow. It warded off the nightmares, or at least provided an avenue of escape. Both became rather adept at talking the other down from a horrifying scene playing on repeat in their subconscious while they slept.

Steve had days where not even the ocean could calm the anxiety-born adrenaline coursing through his veins. Sometimes he would spend the entire day sitting waist-deep in the waves until Danny literally dragged him back inside. The bad days manifested differently depending on the demon tormenting him. On those days, Danny's eyes swam with sorrow as he guided Steve back to a calm center.

Danny had days where he could stomach hardly any food at all, and that persistent tremor returned to his hands. One night, Steve woke up in the middle of the night with his friend nowhere in sight. A panicked search found the man kneeling on the beach silently weeping with a half-empty bottle of scotch beside him. Danny's tells were more consistent than Steve's, and it nearly broke him each time one manifested.

But for every bad day came many good ones. Teaching became a fulfilling outlet for both men. Apparently, they weren't half-bad, especially since every class they taught ended up needing a waiting list. Danny taught investigative techniques and profiling while Steve taught classes on raid tactics and task force leadership. Together, they had an interrogation techniques seminar, another seminar on the vitality of a partnership, another on undercover work, and a series of lectures breaking down different cases and walking people through the process.

No one, outside of Steve and Danny, was surprised when those joint classes were overflowing.

Outside of teaching, they coached baseball and football. They spent time with Danny's kids, with Mary and Joan, with Chin and his family, and with Kono. Their house, like Steve's back in Hawaii, became a gathering place for the ohana. Even team members from Hawaii made a point of stopping by when they came to the mainland for other business. And when Tani and Junior came and brought Eddie with them, the final piece of the dream Steve hardly dared to hope for clicked into place.

Peace. A hard-earned, well-deserved peace. Something they would constantly pursue but was no longer out of reach.

Before he knew it, a year passed by - a year of ups and downs and everything in between. They'd spent a month in New Jersey around the holidays and Steve didn't think he'd ever smiled so much in his entire life. Everything from Danny's mom berating her son for being too skinny to the extravagant tour of the entire state from Danny and Grace was absolutely perfect. He had no trouble admitting to Danny's eager face that he loved the place.

Mainly because Danny loved it, but that part remained unvoiced.

They also spent July in Hawaii in a house that Danny's former landlord rented to them for nearly half of the normal price. It felt strange - in the best possible way - being there with no crises or cases to work, and they used the time to catch up with their ohana. Both saw the island through a different lens, one that was finally mending back together from a decade of trauma. Leaving was bittersweet, and they silently vowed to make it an annual trip.

In short, everything was going far better than he even could've hoped.

So when he woke up one Tuesday - a day off for both men - to find Danny's side of the bed unoccupied, he immediately frowned. Danny was almost never up and moving before Steve. As a man who hated mornings with a burning passion, Danny often stayed in bed until Steve coaxed him out for breakfast.

Unless something was wrong.

Worried, Steve threw off the covers and wiggled into some semi-clean clothes lying on top of the hamper. He didn't think his partner had a nightmare or anything like that, and there was no sign of trouble brewing the night before. They'd watched a movie, then let Eddie run around on the beach for a bit before going to bed.

Come to think of it, Eddie was nowhere to be found either. Which was… perplexing. If Danny was dealing with something, he very rarely took Eddie with him. That was more of Steve's move.

Either way, all the evidence pointed to something being wrong.

Padding down the steps, Steve froze on the landing at the sound of a happy bark and a familiar laugh. Shoulders sagging from relief, he peeked down on the first floor. From here, he could see into the kitchen, though he was just out of view from anyone below unless they came closer to the stairs.

And there, bustling around the kitchen with stacks of pancakes surrounding him, was Danny. Still a little too skinny one year later, but back within a healthy weight range. Still healing in many ways, but alight with a joy Steve had rarely seen. Still fighting with the hand he'd been dealt, but finally content. Still broken, but whole.

Observing it all, a rush of affection for his best friend swept him off his feet and battered him against the rocks of unconditional love. How had he thought he could survive without this frustrating, sarcastic, undyingly loyal man?

Danny broke off a piece of a pancake and tossed it high in the air, laughing with pure delight as Eddie jumped up and caught it in his mouth. And Steve couldn't help but smile too, content to sit here and watch this scene play out for all eternity.

"Yo, Steven! You gonna stop sitting up there gawkin' like a creep and come down anytime soon or what?"

Because of course Danny knew he was there. He should've never doubted it.

"Coming," he managed to call past the lump of pure emotion in his throat.

"Well, hurry it up, will ya? These pancakes aren't gonna eat themselves!"

But he still hesitated, cementing that image in his mind forever: Danny standing below with a towel over one shoulder and a pan in one hand smirking up at him. Easily reading the expression on Steve's face, his partner rolled his eyes in obvious fondness and headed back towards the kitchen. "Sentimental goof," he muttered with exasperated affection.

Bounding down the rest of the steps, Steve began following Danny into the kitchen prepared to bicker through breakfast. But something in the living room made him pause one more time.

There, on the mantle sat the plaque the Governor of Hawaii awarded him last year. It was the same plaque he'd given to his injured partner as a promise the following day. Upon arriving in the new house, Danny unpacked it first and plunked it on the mantle in full view. He still caught the detective studying it every once in a while, eyes soft with hope.

Plan on this, he'd said. Danny did - they did together - and here was the reward.

"Steve, c'mon! We gonna eat today or what?"

With one final glance at the promise displayed on the mantle of their messy living room of their shared home, Steve smiled, nodded to himself, and walked into the kitchen to start the day.

Home we'll go

Home we'll go

It's a long road, but we're not alone

Together we'll stand and we're comin' home.

End