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It wasn’t rare for Danny to be calling Steve at the odd hours of night. The Jersey-native struggled with insomnia, something that appeared to be even worse on the nights when he had driven his children back to Rachel’s place, bidding farewell until the next time he got to see them. Therefore, at 8.43 pm, when Steve’s phone lit up, Danny’s name across the screen, and he put aside his guitar to answer, he was expecting for Danny to ask if he could come over, the sound of beer bottles already packed in a bag. “Hey Danno, what’s up?”
Instead of the usual, clear tone, however, it sounded like someone else when Danny finally responded. “Steve, hey,” he slurred, voice rough. “Could you-,” cut off by a cough, or maybe a round of vomiting (Steve wasn’t quite sure). “Could you maybe come over?”
“Danny, are you okay?” Steve asked, worry lacing his tone as he sat up straighter, pulse spiking where his heart was thumping against his ribcage. “I’m on my way, buddy, sit tight.”
He wasn’t quite sure what to expect as he sat behind the wheel of the Silverado, driving across Honolulu to Danny’s house. The hope he had felt, the hope that Danny wanted to spend time with him, had been replaced by concern. Sure, Danny had been sick before, and Steve had heard him when he’d been sick before, but this sounded different. He sounded rougher, more slurred – more out of it . Steve was quick to get out of the car, plastic bag in hand (there was no way he’d come over without having stopped by the pharmacy on the way, getting anything he thought could be of use). With a curled fist, he knocked on the door while fumbling with his keys in the other hand, shoving the key to Danny’s place into the lock. “Hey Danno, I’m coming in, yeah?”
Steve nudged the door open, met with a warm and humid air inside. The curtains were drawn shut, the TV was on, though the volume had been muted and it had long ago started playing some classical music concert that Steve knew for a fact that Danny had no interest in, whatsoever. “Danno? Where are you?” Steve spoke as he moved around the room, making sure to open a window, needing to air out the place a little. “Come on, buddy, I’ll turn this house upside down to find you if I have to.”
On cue, Danny appeared in the doorway to the bathroom – or, well something that looked like the ghost of Danny appeared. He was pale, eyes sunken and heavy-lidded, and he was shining with sweat, his hair was sticking to his forehead. He was halfway hunched over, one arm wrapped around his torso, and he was visibly shivering – the entire picture having Steve at his side in a second, holding onto his frail frame as he coughed, racking his whole body. “‘m fine, I promise,” he croaked, leaning heavily against Steve.
“Jesus, Danny, you’re anything but fine,” Steve sighed, easing Danny into walking, steering him towards the bedroom. “Part of me thinks I should bring you to the emergency room.”
“No, please, no–,” another cough. “No emergency room. Just need you.”
Steve furrowed his brows, pulling Danny to a stop as he placed his hand on his jaw, tilting his head back. “Just need me? Given that comment alone, I should be bringing you to the emergency room,” he grumbled, using his foot to nudge the door to Danny’s bedroom open, though stopped himself at Danny’s whine. “What?”
“Sheets, they’re – I’ve been sweating pretty badly,” he mumbled against Steve’s shoulder, struggling to keep his eyes open. Steve sighed, tightening his grip around Danny as he turned them, moving towards the couch instead. He eased Danny onto the couch, noticing how Danny’s eyes closed and his head dropped back onto the couch. He moved to find a blanket, get something for Danny to drink and eat (though, he wasn’t quite sure if he would be able to stomach anything), and to pick some of the medicine from the bag he had brought. Danny had other plans, however, and he reached out for Steve’s hand. “Can you just, uh, sit with me?”
“Danny, I-,”
“My temperature’s at 103,” Danny croaked. “I’ve been measuring it throughout the day, it hasn’t gone up at all. I’ve eaten-,” a series of coughs, that had Steve’s heart rate spiking. “-and I’ve tried to keep hydrated. You can take me to the emergency room if-,” another cough. “-if my temperature rises.”
Steve narrowed his eyes for a second, before reaching out for the blanket draped across the armrest of Danny’s couch, pressing it into Danny’s arms as he sat down next to him. “I’ll take your temperature again in an hour,” he mumbled, simply watching as Danny readjusted his position, lowering his head into Steve’s lap. “So, if you wake up because I move, it’s because your temperature needs to be checked.”
Danny grunted in response, a soft "Stay with me?", clutching onto the blanket like it was a lifeline as he buried his face into Steve’s stomach, the soft fabric of his shirt rubbing against his face. Steve chuckled softly, picking up one of the decorative pillows (Grace’s touch, without a doubt), and stuffed it into Danny’s arms as he removed the blanket, draping it over the shivering body instead. It didn’t take him long – Danny, that was – to fall asleep, breaths a little sniffly against Steve’s torso, followed by soft snores. Hesitating for only a second, Steve lifted his hand to Danny’s head, carding his fingers through the damp locks of blond hair, brushing it away from his forehead, though feeling himself relax as Danny hummed in his sleep, leaning into the touch.
He woke once, stumbling his way to the bathroom to empty the contents he didn’t really have in his stomach, Steve right there with him, a warm hand rubbing soothing circles on his back as he shivered and heaved. Steve felt helpless, wanting to take the suffering from Danny, but he couldn’t – what he could was to be there with him, make sure he got rest. When they had returned to the couch, Danny had tugged and pulled on Steve until he got him the way he wanted him; laying flat on his back, head against the armrest, and his legs spread just wide enough for Danny to fit between them, allowing him to rest his head fully on Steve’s stomach. That’s how they fell asleep, and in the morning, that’s how they woke too.
Steve woke first, sunlight fighting its way through the curtains as it dimly lit the living room. The TV had turned off at some point throughout the night, though neither one of them had been paying attention to it. He stayed still, however, controlling his breathing to make sure he didn’t wake Danny. It wasn’t until the shorter man groaned and stretched where he was sleeping on Steve, that he allowed himself a soft chuckle. “Morning,” Steve spoke through a yawn, voice rough with sleep. “Slept well?”
“Yeah, you’re a good pillow,” Danny chuckled, turning his face to bury himself into Steve’s stomach again, breathing in the familiar and comfortable scent of him. “Sorry for making you come over.”
“No, don’t apologise, it’s fine,” Steve assured, hand once again finding its way to Danny’s hair, brushing it out of his eyes, an absentminded move, which Danny once again found himself leaning into. “Your temperature’s gone down, it must have – you’re not as hot and clammy to the touch now as you were yesterday.”
Danny seemed to ignore his words. “Why did you come?”
Steve shrugged. “You asked.”
“But you stayed, why?”
Steve wasn’t quite able to stop the smile from curling his lips upwards. “You asked,” he said, tilting his head slightly as Danny seemed to process his words. “You called, asked me to come over, and you sounded pretty bad. I was worried, and had to make sure you were okay,” he paused, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “I care about you, Danny.”
Danny lifted his hand, pressing it against Steve’s where it had stilled at the side of his head, running his thumb over the rough skin of his knuckles. “Thank you, Steve.”
Steve chuckled softly. “No problem, Danny – I know you’d have done the same for me,” he grinned a little goofily, a smile spreading on Danny’s lips too. “Now, maybe I should get some coffee going? How do you feel about some food?”
“I could go for some food, yeah,” Danny grinned, though nuzzled his face closer to Steve’s torso again, making himself comfortable. “In a while, though, I’m quite comfortable right here.”
There was an aggressive stomach bug going around, and quite frankly, it was a miracle Danny hadn’t caught it. Both Charlie and Grace had been ill with it, both while staying at his place, and he was quite certain he had been covered in vomit, snot and sweat. Steve had been a saint, the road between Danny’s house and the grocery store having become well worn from the wheels of Steve’s Silverado as he went out to get whatever the kids needed. Truthfully, he had barely even been inside the house, and it didn’t even occur to Danny that he could have caught it (though he could just as easily have caught it from one of his many visits to the store).
Steve had kissed him goodbye at the door the morning before, saying he needed to head back to his own place and sort through some stuff before work the next day; he had a meeting with the governor, among other things. Danny hadn’t thought much about it, simply leaned against the doorframe and waved at him as he drove away, before turning back into his own living room, which Steve had helped thoroughly clean to get rid of any bacterias that could be lingering from Charlie and Grace’s days of being ill.
Because of said meeting with the governor, they had agreed to drive separately to work, both of them needing their cars if things were to go down. When he got to work, the rest of the team were already there, scattered around as they did their things. Lou showed up in his office after only a short while, handing him a white ceramic mug with coffee. “Kids done with their stomach bug?”
“Most definitely,” Danny chuckled. “Even got a couple of days off to make sure neither me or Steve caught it, but looks like we’re out of the woods. Not that Steve would be affected, he barely even gets sick – if he ever gets sick.”
Lou chuckled. “I do think I’ve heard him sniffle once.”
“Yeah, but that was after Wo Fat abducted and waterboarded him,” Danny sighed. “He had pneumonia from that, and I don’t actually think it’s fair to think of that when counting over normal, human-like illnesses.”
“You've got a point there,” Lou chuckled again. “He’s in a meeting with the Governor this morning?”
“Yeah, something about a budget, I think,” Danny leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out underneath the desk. “So let’s not jinx it, but hopefully the criminals of O’ahu can take a break from their craziest stunts until our resident stuntman is back in the office.”
“I hope you’re not jinxing it indeed,” Lou shook his head a little. “I’ll be in my office, working through some papers.”
“Have fun,” Danny grinned, reaching out for the latest case report to have landed on his desk as Lou left the room. He was about halfway through reading it, when his phone rang, and he absentmindedly reached out for it, answering without seeing who was calling. “Detective Williams, how can I help you?”
“Detective – oh, I’m glad to have reached you,” the governor spoke on the other end of the line, causing Danny’s brows to furrow. “Is the team currently working on a case? You might know, but Commander McGarrett was supposed to be meeting me this morning, a budget meeting on the team’s behalf, but he’s not showed up yet. I figured, if you’re working on a case, the meeting could be postponed, but it’s unlike him to postpone things without letting anyone know.”
It felt as if the room froze around Danny, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach, and a bad feeling crawling through him. “I’m sorry, he didn’t show up for the meeting?” Danny stuttered. The last time Steve hadn’t showed up for something, Wo Fat had taken him, and it had been an awful chase, which ended in getting him out wounded and drugged, but alive, after a day where Danny was almost convinced they’d be bringing him out in a body-bag.
“The Commander was supposed to meet with me half an hour ago,” the governor responded, and Danny hoped his worry wasn’t too audible in his voice.
“We’re not currently working on a case, Governor, but I’m sure there’s a logical reason for Commander McGarrett’s absence. I will look into it, and report back to you,” he rushed out, followed by a “Goodbye,” and hung up. Scrambling to his feet, he left the case report open, and hurried out to the tech table. “Jerry – I need you to track the GPS in Steve’s car.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jerry nodded, tone a little wary as he started tapping on the table’s surface, quickly bringing up the last known location of Steve’s Silverado. “Seems he’s still at home,” he continues, while pinging the location of his phone as well. “Both phone and car are at his house, Detective Williams.”
Danny lifted a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, drawing in a sharp breath. “Alright, thank you, Jerry-,” he was about to turn, when he bumped into Lou, who had a concerned look on his face. “He didn’t show up for his meeting with the Governor, but his phone and car are still at home. I’m heading over there now.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, Lou, you need to stay here,” Danny sighed. “You’re in charge.”
He left before Lou had a chance to respond, nervously fumbling with the keys to the Camaro as he headed out. Danny was grateful that the drive to Steve’s house was a short one, shorter than to his own house, and though he was already aware that the Silverado would be standing in the driveway, it did slightly soothe his nerves to see the truck, perfectly clean and shining in the Hawaiian sun. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket, attempting to dial Steve’s number – though it went straight to voicemail. “Shit, Steve,” Danny grumbled, barely shutting the door to the Camaro behind him as he moved to the front door. He unholstered his weapon, holding it tightly in his hand as he unlocked the front door to the McGarrett house.
It was quiet inside, and he moved softly around as he did a sweep of the ground floor, grateful to see no signs of a struggle, though there were essentially no signs of Steve either. He drew in a sharp breath and braced himself for what could meet him as he moved up the stairs, before re-holstering his gun as he stepped right inside Steve’s bedroom. It smelled of stale vomit, and Danny found himself gagging, but the sight of the bathroom door being open had his mind wandering.
“Steve?” He spoke softly, moving closer, biting back a gasp as he found Steve.
He was slumped against the tile-wall of the shower, cold water spraying down on him. The front of his shirt was stained with sweat and vomit, and soaked by the cold water, his grey boxers having turned dark grey from where he was sitting in the cold water. “Hey, Steve,” Danny tried again, crouching in front of him, ignoring the flash of pain in his bad knee, reaching out to press a hand against Steve’s cheek. He grunted softly in response, blinking confusedly a couple of times as he tried to focus his gaze on Danny. “Hey, you with me babe?”
“Danny?” He croaked, voice rough.
“Yeah, babe, it’s me,” Danny got up again, removing his holster and badge, and kicking off his shoes before moving into the shower with Steve, only being able to help him as he bent over and dry-heaved, whimpering loudly. “Okay, Steve, let’s get you washed up and into bed, alright?” He snuck his arms under Steve’s, helping the heavy, taller man to his feet, not particularly liking how he swayed as he stood. Danny successfully peeled the t-shirt from Steve’s shivering torso, and moved on to remove his boxers, before turning the knob controlling the temperature of the water. Steve whined when the warmer water hit his body, but Danny simply sent him a look that said he had to.
With a little work, Steve eventually got cleaned up, layers of sweat having been washed from his body. “You know,” Danny started as he tucked him into one soft towel, bringing out another to help dry him off. “It did not hit Charlie or Grace this quickly, but you – like the competitive idiot you are, of course had to rush into being sick like this, huh?” He sighed, tilting his head a little as he looked up at Steve, a pair of tired eyes looking back at him.
“‘m sorry,” Steve mumbled, making Danny chuckle softly.
“There’s nothing to apologise for,” he placed a hand against the taller man’s cheek, already feeling how his skin was clammy again. “The meeting with the Governor is out of the window, for now.”
Steve looked like he was about to respond, when he instead doubled over, and Danny just managed to get the trash can underneath his face to catch the bile Steve emptied from his stomach. He rubbed soothing circles on Steve’s back, pressing his fingers into the pressure-points at the base of his skull, and allowed Steve to nearly collapse against him as he was done heaving, sobs being muffled by wet clothes and towels.
“Come on, Steve,” Danny wrapped his arms around the taller man, bringing him out of the bedroom – the sheets had been soiled with sweat and vomit, and Danny knew he should be changing them, but right now Steve needed him more – and into one of the guest bedrooms, where he settled Steve on the bed, still wrapped in towels, before returning to the master bedroom for clean clothes both of them could wear. He handed a pair of Navy blue boxers to Steve, watching as he got on shaky gets to put them on, before Danny headed downstairs to turn his kitchen upside down for something to eat.
Steve didn’t have a lot to brag about in his cupboards, all of the stomach bug remedies being at Danny’s house, but he brought a bottle of apple juice and a bottle of water. “What do you want first?” He asked as he returned to the bedroom, where Steve looked miserable underneath the sheets. “You need to hydrate, Steve.”
“Water,” he mumbled, reaching with a grabby hand for the bottle, and Danny brought the trash can with him – remembering with horror how Grace had vomited clear water and bile all over her bed after a single mouthful when she had first gotten sick. Danny brushed some of Steve’s still damp hair from his forehead, taking notice of how warm his skin was.
“If you don’t get any better throughout the day, I’m taking you to the hospital,” Danny informed, a hand on Steve’s back as his stomach started convulsing, reaching blindly for the trash can that Danny was already holding close to him. He wanted to give him something to help with the fever, but Steve had never been a big fan of medicine – and it would be difficult now, when he wasn’t able to keep anything down. Instead, he soothed Steve through his round of heaving, and helped him get comfortable in bed, sitting with his back pressed against Steve’s hip until the taller man had drifted off into a restless sleep.
He got up, careful not to jostle him awake, and stepped out into the hallway. First he called the Governor with the information that Steve had gotten ill, and that the meeting would have to be rescheduled. Then he called Lou, informing him that he had found Steve, that he was a bit out of it through sickness, but that he’d be fine – and that he would be staying the day at the McGarrett house.
“Call me if you need me, okay?” Danny sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he turned to look at Steve, who was still asleep.
“Of course – and Danny, you let me know if you two need anything, alright? I don’t mind doing a grocery run for you,” Lou responded, receiving a soft chuckle from Danny.
“Thanks Lou, I’ll let you know.”
He placed his phone on the bedside table, before crawling into bed next to Steve, careful not to wake him. He reached out, hand finding Steve’s, tangling their fingers together and being relieved to feel that his hands weren’t as cold as they had been. It stung him badly how Steve had most likely been through this already for a while before he got there, if how he looked in the shower, and the smell of stale vomit from his bedroom was anything to go by, and Danny sighed a little as he gave Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze, before shuffling closer to him.
“Gonna get sick,” Steve mumbled, though his eyes remained closed.
“What? You need the trash can?”
“No,” Steve shook his head weakly. “You’re gonna get sick.”
“We’re gonna cross that obstacle when we get to it, babe,” Danny sighed, his other hand finding its way to Steve’s hair, scraping his fingers over his scalp. “Just sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up,” he hummed softly, smiling a little at how Steve curled himself into Danny’s side, mumbling something against his chest, before he was back asleep. He fell asleep at some point himself, though was jostled awake when Steve turned, doubling over as he heaved into the trash can beside the bed. He felt bad for not being able to do anything, but rubbed Steve’s back, and helped ease him back underneath the covers when he was done, the taller man panting and whimpering. “You’re okay, babe, you’re okay.”
“I feel like shit,” Steve grunted, covering his eyes with a hand, clearly indicating he found the room to be too bright where the Hawaiian sun was pushing its way through the curtains. He lifted his other hand, now free from Danny’s, and wiped across his mouth, grimacing at the taste of bile.
“Do you feel better at all?”
“I feel more awake,” Steve muttered. “I know that means the fever’s letting up, but geez, right now I just want to sleep,” he groaned, turning back on his side, curling into Danny’s side. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For looking after me,” Steve shrugged slightly, pressing his face further into Danny. “I’m not exactly a joy to be around right now, but you … you’re still here.”
“Of course I am, babe,” Danny mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of Steve’s head. “I love you, and you would have done the same for me. I was worried, though, when the governor called and said you hadn’t shown up for your meeting.” Steve grumbled something against his torso, something that sounded like “ Shit ,” but Danny wasn’t quite sure if that was what he actually said. “Luckily it was a slow day at the office, so Lou and the rest of the team could handle their paperwork without having me hovering around them. Not that I’d like to be there, knowing you were here like this.”
Steve shifted a little, tilting his head back to look at Danny, who used the chance to brush his fingers across his forehead, relieved to feel the temperature having gone down a little. “I love you too,” Steve mumbled, before pressing his face back against Danny, pressing a kiss to whatever part of his torso he could reach.
“Rest up, babe, alright?” Danny chuckled, tangling his fingers into Steve’s hair. “Rest up, and we’ll be back to normal very soon.”
While he got sick occasionally, not always able to escape the various bugs his children brought home, he didn’t always get the full-picture kind of sickness every time. Sometimes, he just got a little beat down, a little more tired than usual. It was on those days especially that he treasured the chance of being able to just sit and do paperwork, though he was certain he kept his eyes closed more than he kept them awake most of the time. It was on days like that he was extra happy to have Steve around the house, allowing him the time he needed to breathe and relax, all without once making Danny feel like he was worthless or selfish.
However, he couldn’t quite admit to being under the weather, and found himself trailing behind Steve as they headed to the car in the mornings, head hanging a little low, his chatter a little duller as they sat in the car. It was on those days Steve knew that Danny needed a day for himself, a day with the dullest kind of paperwork he could find (because he knew that the lighter the paperwork, the more time Danny would take to rest throughout the office hours). It was on those days where Steve would make sure everyone left him alone unless they really needed to speak to him, all the blinds to the office closed but the one facing Steve’s office (that wasn’t actually a demand of Steve’s, but rather something Danny tended to do, because he enjoyed the occasional glance at him).
He was positive he had been awake most of the day, but still found himself half asleep when Steve stepped into his office at the end of the day, the rest of the HQ abandoned. Steve chuckled softly at the sight, Danny slumped in his chair as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “Hey there, ready to go home?”
“You bet,” Danny mumbled through a yawn, though made no attempts at moving from his chair. Instead, he reached out a hand to tangle his fingers with Steve’s, pulling him closer until he was leaning against the desk by Danny, glancing at the case reports on the desk. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What’s that now?” Steve flashed an innocent smile in Danny’s direction, giving the shorter man’s fingers a squeeze.
“When I’m like this, a little under the weather,” Danny started, shifting uncomfortably in the chair, only now taking notice of how he’d been sitting still more or less the entire day. “You dump the easy reports on my desk.”
Steve faked a gasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Danno,” he shrugged innocently, before nudging the chair back and tugging on Danny’s arm, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go home, alright Danno? We can find a game, or a movie, and have a nice night in, just you and me,” he murmured, pulling Danny close to his body, pressing his lips to Danny’s forehead. “You’re running a bit of a fever, are you feeling alright?”
“I’m just fine, Steve,” Danny chuckled softly, leaning into Steve’s touch, humming contentedly. “Now, I’m hearing you say all these big words about going home, yet we’re still here. What’s that supposed to mean?”
Chuckling, Steve pressed another kiss to Danny’s forehead. “Alright then, come on. I’m sure Eddie will be excited for some cuddles.”
They stopped by the store on their way home, Steve instructing Danny to stay in the car while he headed inside real quick – and Danny didn’t even bother complaining, simply getting more comfortable in the seat, curling one of Steve’s sweatshirts (that had been discarded in the backseat of the Camaro sometime earlier that week, and forgotten there) underneath his head against the door, where he slumbered until Steve returned. “I’ve ordered food for us, Chinese – is that okay? It’ll be delivered at home, so we don’t have to wait around,” Steve spoke slowly, a warm hand on Danny’s thigh, giving it a squeeze, before he placed it back on the steering wheel. Danny simply hummed and nodded, before dozing off again.
For once in his life, Steve kept the speed limit. He took each turn carefully, making sure not to jostle Danny awake, and as he parked the Camaro behind the Silverado in front of his house – their house – it was with a careful nudge he woke Danny. “Hey, buddy, we’re home,” Steve said, his warm hand back on Danny’s thigh, thumb rubbing circles against the smooth fabric of his slacks. “Let’s get inside, yeah?”
It wasn’t that Danny feared he would topple over on the short walk from the car to the front door, but it was still nice the way Steve glued himself to his side, a large hand on his back, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of Danny’s button-up. Yet, he still nearly collapsed on the couch, soon joined by an overly excited Labrador Retriever, who nuzzled his head into Danny’s torso and stilled on the couch next to him, only thumping his tail softly against the leather in happiness. Steve simply chuckled, leaning over to ruffle Eddie’s ears and give Danny’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, before he wandered into the kitchen.
Shortly after, he returned, a glass of something coloured brightly yellow in his hands. “Here, drink this,” he extended his hand to Danny, who looked sceptical. “It’s just vitamins. I kind of make a big deal of not poisoning you.”
Danny rolled his eyes, but accepted the glass, chugging it down, much to Steve’s amusement. “What? Never seen a man chug a beverage before?”
“I’ve never seen a man chug a glass of effervescent tablets like he was eighteen and the vitamins was a beer,” Steve grinned widely, making Danny chuckle. “But, I guess there’s a first time for everything.” He picked the glass from Danny’s hand, returning it to the kitchen, before getting comfortable in the recliner. “You know, you should probably go get changed, put on something a little more comfortable than those pants.”
“I’ll have you know I’m very comfortable,” Danny hummed, shifting around so he was laying down on the couch, head on the armrest – and Eddie used the chance to climb further onto him, huffing out a breath of air as he placed his head on Danny’s chest. Steve simply chuckled, shaking his head a little, getting up from the recliner to reach for the blanket, draping it across Danny and Eddie. “Oh,’s nice.”
“Don’t doubt it, buddy,” Steve chuckled, noticing how Danny’s eyes were already closed, his voice getting heavier as he got closer to sleep. Eddie too was close to slumbering, and while Steve knew he needed to bring the dog outside to do his business, he found himself sinking back into the recliner, just taking in the sight of his partner and boyfriend sleeping peacefully with the dog on the couch. On a regular day, he’d wake them – make Danny cook dinner while he took Eddie for a walk, but this wasn’t a regular day. Instead, he got up himself, leaning down to press a kiss against Danny’s temple, brushing his fingers across his forehead, combining feeling for his temperature and brushing hair out of his eyes.
For now, he was letting Danny rest, and when he woke, Steve would make sure dinner was ready, one of Danny’s comfort movies ready to play on the TV, and whatever he needed for drinks. Just like he’d done for Danny before, just like he’d do a million more times.
He had his arms crossed over his chest where he stood, leaning back against the railing of the staircase, an amused grin on his face as he watched Steve limp his way to the car, the taller man grimacing with each step where he put weight on his right leg. He watched as Steve reached for the handle on the door of the driver’s side, pressing the button on the key in his hand just in time to lock the car before Steve was able to open the door. “You’re not supposed to drive, Steven ,” Danny sighed and rolled his eyes, before moving from where he stood on the staircase. “The doctor specifically told you no driving . You remember that, or did you suffer from acute amnesia on the way out of the emergency room?”
Steve’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at Danny. “I get carsick, Danny. I have to drive.” He nearly growled , making Danny chuckle.
“Sure, I’ll remember to quote you on that when your knee fails underneath you, and you’re put on crutches until a clearing so they can operate on your knee,” Danny rolled his eyes, hands on Steve’s shoulders as he started moving the taller man around the car. “I’ll be nice, Steve. I don’t drive my car often, but it’s not like I’ve never driven before.”
“How can I know?” Steve huffed out, a little dramatically.
“You can’t, because you literally never let me drive my own car,” Danny countered, unlocking the car as Steve seemed to give in, reaching for the handle of the passenger side’s door. Steve winced and growled out something through gritted teeth as he crouched, lowering himself into the passenger seat. “Bet you wish we’d taken the truck now, huh?”
“As if I’d ever let you drive my truck,” Steve scowled. “We’re needed out by Kalaeloa Airport.”
“Yes, Captain,” Danny gave him a salute, before moving around to the driver’s side, taking more time than needed adjusting the seat, mirror and steering wheel back to his preferred settings (the fact that Steve had driven them to the hospital so he could get his knee checked out at the emergency room after falling and twisting his knee). Once again, Steve grumbled something underneath his breath, something about taking too fucking long , but Danny didn’t let it throw him off, continuing his slow paced way of moving. “If you get sick, you let me know, alright? I’ve already had this car cleaned three times because of the kids.”
“Yes, Danno,” Steve rolled his eyes, slumping further into the passenger seat, carefully shifting the placement of his injured knee.
It seemed to be well at first; Danny kept the speed limit, stopped at red lights and slowed to let people cross the street. He was careful making turns, frequently tossing glances in Steve’s direction – and for a while, it seemed to go well. Then he started seeing the signs that it wasn't going so well. Steve started shifting in his seat, swallowing heavily. He pressed the back of his head further into his headrest. However, the biggest hint that something was up, was the sudden drop of colour from Steve’s face.
Luckily for them both, Danny had been travelling with people who got carsick before.
“Danny-,” Steve barely managed to croak out before Danny had stopped the car, a hand on his shoulder as he gently pushed the taller man towards the door, which was pushed open. Danny’s hand remained on Steve’s back, rubbing soothing circles as he heaved, his whole body convulsing as he emptied his stomach’s content onto the roadside outside of the car. It didn’t look comfortable, the way Steve and all his usual proud length of 6’1” was crumpled together, pants shaking his whole body in between rounds of heaving. “I’m sorry, Danny.” He mumbled, his voice rough, as he lifted a hand to wipe at his mouth, the foul taste of bile making him nauseous all over again.
“It’s alright, babe,” Danny continued rubbing circles against his back, feeling the way the fabric of his shirt was growing damp with sweat underneath his touch. “Bet most of your painkillers are on the roadside now, huh?”
Steve didn’t respond, simply shuffling weakly to get his feet on the asphalt, elbows braced on his knees, head hanging low as he tried catching his breath, feeling the bile rise in his throat again. Somewhere behind him, he heard Danny’s voice, talking to someone, the steady rhythm of his hand rubbing against Steve’s back being kept up.
“Yeah, thanks Lou, keep me posted,” Danny sighed, before hanging up. “Alright babe, we’re heading back home. You’re in no shape to work-,”
“No,” Steve croaked, his voice wrecked, but he didn’t turn, didn’t move to get properly back into the car. He was half expecting Danny to protest, and couldn’t quite stop himself from whining as Danny’s hand was removed from his back, though it reappeared only seconds later, this time at the back of his neck. “I can work – I can do it.”
“Steve, babe,” Danny sighed, rubbing his thumb along Steve’s hairline. “I know you think you can, but you’ve got a sprained knee, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you literally just threw up your breakfast, lunch and half a pharmacy worth of pain medication onto the scorching hot asphalt of O’ahu, and while you’re talking a big game of being able to work, I haven’t seen you even do as much as inch towards moving back into the car.”
He lifted his head a little, tilting it backwards to look at Danny. “But the team-,”
“The team’s fine,” Danny chuckled softly, crouching next to him, a hand now on Steve’s cheek, warm palm against cold, clammy skin. “They all want you to get back in shape as soon as possible, and they know as well as you and me that it won’t happen if you’re in the field, puking up your guts.”
Steve sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned into the touch. “Okay, Danny.”
Danny smiled a little, carding his fingers through Steve’s sweat-damp hair, before stepping over the puddle of bile, helping Steve angle himself back into the car. “Let’s go home then, babe.”
They had to stop twice more on their way home; it seemed as if he got easier carsick when he’d already been sick once, but it was nothing but bile and the few sips of water he mustered to clear out the disgusting smell in his mouth that came back up. He stood on unsteady legs as they got home, swaying a little until Danny wrapped an arm around his torso, assisting his slow steps; making sure he stayed upright, while also taking some of the weight off his knee. “Thanks, Danno,” he mumbled at some point, only receiving a soft pat to the chest from Danny, who steered him towards the stairs, allowing himself to be used as a human crutch.
It was a slow process, and Steve felt the tiredness overtake him as they reached the top of the stairs, his rounds of vomiting having left him tired and cold. Danny eased him onto the bed, a hand at his ankle as he lifted the bad knee onto the mattress. “I’ll be right back, babe,” Danny let his hand linger on Steve’s calf, before getting up, vanishing for a second – and Steve must have drifted off, because when he came to it again, Danny was in bed next to him, a book in his hands. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Like bile grows in my mouth,” Steve groaned, clearly unhappy with the taste. Danny simply chuckled, offering him a bottle of Gatorade. “Thanks. How’s the team doing?”
“Hit a dead end,” Danny shrugged, watching as Steve shuffled himself into a sitting position. “They were wondering if you were feeling good.”
He grumbled; he was still feeling a little queasy, though that could be because of the gross taste in his mouth, or because he was quite sure he was hollow on the inside. Shifting further, he winced, a sharp pain shooting through his knee, and sunk into the mattress. “I’m good with staying right here.”
“Did you just–,” Danny looked surprised. “Did Steve McGarrett just say he was good with staying in bed?”
“Yes, Danno,” Steve rolled his eyes, shifting closer to Danny, slumping against his side. “If you’re staying here with me, that is.”
“I see, so you’re blackmailing me into staying in bed with you?”
Steve tilted his head back, furrowing his brows. “How on Earth is this blackmail? Just because I say I’m good if you’re staying in bed with me, it doesn’t mean I’ll go off on some rampage if you get up and leave. I might want to move closer to the couch, if you’re in the kitchen, but for what it’s worth, I have no intentions of leaving bed – right now, at least.”
Danny chuckled, wrapping one arm around Steve, as he returned his focus to the book in his hand – something that looked like a cheesy spy novel. “It’s a good thing I don’t intend on leaving, then.”
The episode with the sarin gas still haunted Steve. While he didn’t have nightmares, or anything, but in certain situations he was struck with it, that uncomfortable feeling crawling up along his spine, causing his throat to tighten around itself in a moment of slight panic – a moment of realising how close he was to not having this, a life with Danny, Danny and the kids in his home, Danny in his bed. The last time he had come to think about it, was just the weekend before this, when he found himself at the grill, watching Danny, Charlie and Grace throw a ball with Eddie, the canine happily jumping around and throwing himself into the water to catch the ball. It was a nice picture to look at; everything Steve had ever wanted, everything he had ever wished for.
Yet he couldn’t quite shake the thought that he’d been so close to not having it at all.
However, he was reminded of the episode even more when Danny got sick – the times he got a virus infection, and tried to get Steve’s attention between wheezing and coughing. The first time it had happened, Steve had panicked , calling Lou to babysit Charlie while Steve stuffed Danny in the car and rushed him to the emergency room. The on-call doctors had responded to Steve’s panic, and done the tests needed, ignoring the loud complaining from Danny (who time and time again tried telling them he was just bronchitis), only to sigh and chuckle, informing Steve that Danny had, in fact, been right – it was just bronchitis.
It didn’t ease his worries, though, the wheezing a painful reminder of watching Danny collapse in front of him, tugging at the collar of his shirt and wheezing out, “I can’t breathe.”
But, instead of letting it break him down, Steve decided it was something he needed to face head on , and he didn’t slow down until he deemed himself to be 100% ready for Danny and fighting bronchitis. Thankfully , it took a while until he got use for his knowledge. With the kids growing up, they rarely brought home various illnesses for himself and Danny to catch, and the risks of catching things in the field – well, there was always a risk when they worked with Five-0, and if there was one thing they had learned through their years as partners, it was how those kinds of things swarmed them.
That aside, Danny lived a pretty healthy life – which should soothe Steve’s worries.
It doesn’t.
It’s a regular Tuesday when Steve heads into work alone, Danny staying behind to help Charlie pack up his science project for school. It was something they’d done a million times before, Danny dropping off the kids while Steve did the early-morning briefing with the governor. Sometimes they wouldn’t be able to meet up again until lunch, sometimes they’d find themselves rushing to the Camaro together, Steve’s hand squeezing Danny’s thigh as they travelled wherever they were needed. This morning, however, Steve’s caught up in meetings and phone calls, barely having time to drink three mouthfuls of the coffee Lou brought him between his second and third meeting of the day, and it’s not until after lunch he’s able to reach out to Danny and check how he’s doing.
He doesn’t pick up the first time Steve calls, which isn’t too worrying; Steve knows Danny’s knocked out with some sort of flu-like illness, he knows what Danny’s like when he’s sick. Steve leaves a message, and turns back to his work, noting on the time that it’s still a while until Charlie needs to be picked up from school. It gets lost though, that trail of thought – about Danny and Charlie – when Lou enters his office with a sigh, announcing they’re needed somewhere to talk down, potentially disarming a man from afar. It’s not until he’s the last on scene, remembering what time it is , that he calls after Junior, and asks him to pick up Charlie.
“Do you want me and Tani to take him home to yours or ours?” The younger SEAL asked, halfway hanging out of his car. “I know Danny’s not feeling well, otherwise he’d be here to yell at you for that stupid stunt you pulled.”
It wasn’t a stupid stunt – well, a little stupid. Sneaking up on a man who waves around a gun, and threatens to have a bomb on him is stupid, Danny would have a long rant going about that if he’d been present.
“I, uh–,” Steve ran a hand over his face. “Yours, maybe? I’ll swing by and pick him up later, I just need to check on Danny first. If he’s knocked out, I’ll just have to swing by Rachel’s with Charlie.”
“He can stay at ours until tomorrow,” Tani shot in, from where she was now leaning out of the passenger window of the car. “I heard some rumours about a cool science project he’s been working on, and I want to hear some more about that.”
“Thank you, really – you two are lifesavers,” Steve shot them a smile, dialling the number to the school as they waved goodbye. He let the school know Charlie would be picked up by Junior and Tani, turned back to the HPD officers on scene, and wrapped up what he needed to be, before making his way home.
The house was warm, warmer than it usually was (sure, it lacked air conditioning, but the McGarrett house was still a surprisingly cool house in the Hawaiian warmth). Eddie was underneath the coffee table, one paw over his snout as he snored, though he was quick to his feet as Steve crouched by him. “Hey Eddie, you’ve been a good boy for Danny?” He cooed, scratching the yellow Labrador between his ears. The canine whined in response, pushing past Steve and up the stairs. “Hey Danny, you good up there? Do you need anything?”
No response.
Steve inhaled deeply, before following Eddie up the stairs – and the first thing he was met with as he stepped into the bedroom was Danny with a wheezing sound from his chest. He felt his blood run cold, freezing in his veins, his whole body halting in the doorway as he panicked . His first thought was how and where could Danny have been exposed to sarin at home, but he was quickly shaken from his nervous jumble of thoughts as Danny coughed and sputtered, drawing a mucus-covered shirt sleeve away from his mouth.
“Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help me?” Danny croaked, voice rough as he continued moving with slow, calculated steps towards the bathroom. Steve was at his side in a second , hands roaming Danny’s upper body – though he wasn’t sure what he was checking for. “Stop patting me down like we’re going through security at an airport, I just need to turn the bathroom into a steam room.”
Steve nodded, a weak “Sure,” passing his lips as he bolted for the bathroom, getting the water on – turning the knob all the way around to change the temperature, stilling as Danny wrapped a hand around his elbow.
“Steve, I need you to breathe, okay?” Danny tugged gently on his arm, making him turn around. “You’re more stressed about this than I am, and I’m the one needing the steam to breathe.”
“It’s just-,”
“The sarin.”
He didn’t use words, just nodded weakly.
Danny pushed him aside, forcing him to sit on the toilet lid as he sat down by the shower himself, the door closed with Eddie right on the outside. They didn’t speak, just sat there for a while, the steam working its magic on Danny’s lungs, airways opening, and for each cough he got more mucus up. Steve was positively sweating buckets where he sat, the dark fabric of his shirt even darker as he simply sat there, but he didn’t seem to mind, completely losing track of time. Eventually Danny got up, turned off the shower, and pulled off his t-shirt, soaked with sweat.
“Steve.”
He lifted his head to look at him. “Yeah?”
“I’ve got influenza ,” Danny started, stepping closer, hand coming up to cup Steve’s cheek. “I’m not dying from exposure to a toxic gas. Okay?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
It was okay, but it didn’t stop Steve from worrying.
“I’m fine,” Steve grumbled, though remained hunched by the front door of his house, Junior simply chuckling where he stood, fluffing the pillows on Steve’s couch. “I don’t need your help, and I’m fine going back to work.”
Junior shook his head, stepping closer to Steve again, slotting an arm around the taller man’s torso as he helped him to the couch, not failing to notice the repeated whimpers passing Steve’s lips. “Respectfully, sir, you’re not fine. You can barely walk, you whimper each time you put weight on your left leg, and I think I’ve seen white bed sheets with more colour than your face,” Junior explained, voice steady as he assisted – no, manhandled is more correct – Steve onto the couch, getting him adjusted onto the cushions. He turned, then, placing a small bottle of pills on the coffee table; painkillers prescribed to him at the emergency room.
It was idiotic really. Steve had been shot and injured during his years as a SEAL, and while it had healed long ago, it would still act up on certain occasions. Struck the right way, the pain would shoot through him, rattling through his bones. He had ducked out of a bullet’s path this time, somehow setting that old injury ablaze, and while Tani had chased after the suspect, Junior had stayed with him, calling him an ambulance, no matter how much Steve would disagree.
One visit to the emergency room, and one prescribed pill of painkillers later, he was home, situated on his couch, with Junior mother-henning around the living room as he was positively giving Steve a headache. He tried offering him one of the pills from the bottle, but Steve had shook his head, weakly pushed his hand away. “I’ll make do with sleep and ibuprofen, thank you.”
“Sure you will,” Junior rolled his eyes, checking the time on his watch. “I better get back to work. I’ll have Danny take the rest of the day off, I’m sure he would want to be here with you.
“I can’t get off the couch to let him in.”
“He has a key.”
Steve groaned. “Sometimes I regret giving him that key.”
“He’s your boyfriend?” Junior questioned. “He lives here?”
Steve bit his teeth together, squeezing his eyes shut as he shifted, the pain nearly radiating from his body. “I said what I said.” He knew it was the pain talking, and he was sure Junior did too.
Junior chuckled. “Alright, well, get well soon, Boss. I don’t want to see you back at work before you can move properly, alright?” He furrowed his brows as he looked at Steve, who simply nodded – mostly to get Junior to leave.
“Yes, now leave, please,” Steve grunted, reaching blindly out for another pillow, pressing it to his own face. He could hear the door open and shut, the only sound being the waves crashing against the beach just a few feet from his back door – and oh, how nice it would have been to be sitting out there, in one of the deck chairs, soaking up the sun while he eased his body back into working normally. Yet, he knew he wouldn’t be able to move, and instead he turned his head, burying his face against the leather, and forced himself to sleep.
He heard keys dangling at some point, thought it was faint and sounding far away, and he groaned, peeling his face from the warm leather of the couch to bury himself further into it. Somewhere, someone – Danny – chuckled, but it wasn’t something he paid attention to. Instead, he squeezed his eyes tighter, and forced himself back to sleep. Later, when he woke again, the TV was playing on a low volume, and Danny was in the recliner, feet kicked up on the corner of the table. “Good morning, sleepy head,” he chuckled, planting his feet on the floor as he leaned forward to look at Steve more closely.
“When’d you get here?” Steve groaned, rubbing at his eyes, not failing to notice how his bladder felt like it was about to explode – and as he saw it, he had three options. Pee his pants, fight his way to the bathroom (and positively pass out halfway), or ask Danny to assist him. “Actually, I don’t – uh, I don’t care about that. Mind helping me to the bathroom?”
“Of course, come on,” Danny responded, and it didn’t take him more than seconds to manhandle Steve to his feet, sighing at the winces and poorly bit back moans that escaped the taller man. “I saw the bottle of pills on the table, untouched. Where does it hurt?”
“I don’t know,” Steve grunted. “Everywhere?”
Danny rolled his eyes. “You’re taking painkillers when you’re done in the bathroom, then,” he chuckled, nudging the door to the bathroom open with his foot. “Okay, you’re on your own in there – I have no intentions of helping you out.”
He leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for Steve to finish. Danny was aware of the bullet Steve had taken, even though it had been years before they met – and he was well aware of the way Steve had to undergo two operations to remove all fragments. Even then, he was still riddled with the occasional episode of extreme physical pain and discomfort – and Danny knew how it was. Sure, it couldn’t be compared – his knee and Steve’s old bullet-caused injury – but he knew how it was, feeling like something just locked itself off.
“What did you do this time?” He asked as he heard Steve flush, and the first response came in the form of a muffled chuckle.
“I ducked.”
Danny chuckled softly. “Well, that happens to the best of us.”
Steve appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, a slight tremble to his arms, his face a little pale – eyes a little tired. “Can you help me back to the couch?”
“No,” Danny shook his head. “I’m taking you to bed-,” he paused as Steve’s eyes widened in horror, the idea of climbing a flight of stairs not at all something he wanted to think about. “Relax, I’m taking you to the downstairs guest bedroom. Come on.”
He slotted an arm around Steve’s torso, his other hand holding onto the arm Steve slung around his shoulders as they moved, slowly and with small steps. “You don’t have to do this, I know you were hoping to get some paper-work done,” he mumbled weakly as Danny nudged him onto the bed. “You can go back to work, Danny.”
“No chance in hell, Steven,” he chuckled, stuffing a pillow behind Steve’s head. “I’ll get you some water, and those pills prescribed to you at the emergency room. Don’t think Junior didn’t tell me what was going on.”
Steve shot him a small, sheepish grin. “Thanks, Danno.”
“You’d have done the same,” Danny shrugged.
He stayed as still as possible while waiting for Danny to return, only to shoot him his best puppy-dog eyes when being offered painkillers and water. “I get loopy.”
“You’re in pain, Steve, please just take them, okay?” Danny sighed, wrapping Steve’s fingers around the pills placed in his palm. He stood by, watching as Steve narrowed his eyes, though sighed and obeyed, swallowing down the two pills offered to him with a mouthful of water, before groaning and shifting, settling against the pillows propper behind his head. “You good?”
“Yeah, I’m alright, Danny,” Steve shot him another smile, albeit a more tired one this time. “Go back to work.”
“Absolutely not,” Danny shook his head, moving around the bed, climbing in next to Steve, close enough to feel the heat radiating from the taller man’s body, but still far enough not to touch. Steve grunted at this, groaning again as he shifted, closer, resting his head against Danny’s side. “You comfortable now?”
“Always comfortable with you,” Steve mumbled through a yawn.
Danny chuckled, lifting an arm to wrap it around Steve’s shoulders. “Alright, well, rest up, babe. Some sleep and you should be back to normal.”
It was quiet, Steve obviously forcing himself back to sleep where he was nuzzled against Danny’s side, and it was peaceful as Danny leaned back against the headboard, allowing his own eyes to close. That’s when Steve nudged him, surprisingly soft in his touch.
“I love you, Danno.”
He couldn’t quite help the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips. “I love you too, Steve."