fic: Oblivion (6/?) (H50 Season 5 Coda Series)
Title: Oblivion
Author: stellarmeadow
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Paring: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC17
Summary: Season 5 coda series - think of it as Season 5 canon with a twist....
Notes: Chapter 6 - coda for ep 506. Missed previous chapters? Read them here:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
"We'd like to welcome you to Honolulu International Airport, where the local time is 2:33. Please remain seated until the captain has turned off the fasten seatbelt signs; however, if your cell phone is in reach, feel free to turn it on at this time. We'll be at the gate in just a few moments."
Danny stared out the window at the familiar sight of Honolulu, the too-bright, too-blue skies that were never allowed to be marred with grey clouds for very long, and then only for the express purpose of bringing about those rainbows that were so prevalent they put them on the fucking license plates.
He pulled out his phone and switched it off airplane mode with reluctance, waiting while it buzzed with various updates before it finally stopped. He checked his texts to see six from Steve, all random, all clearly designed to distract Danny from his return to reality.
"Kids, right?" his seatmate said, nodding at his own phone. "I got three, and my phone buzzes all day long with those texts."
The guy had managed to get the fact that Danny had a daughter out of Danny before he'd feigned sleep to avoid further conversation. "Yeah, kids," Danny said, because, hey, McGarrett really was nothing more than an overgrown kid most days anyway, right?
The plane stuttered to a halt, and Danny stretched, more than comfortable from the mysterious upgrade to first class. He had a sneaking suspicion who was behind it, and didn't want to know what kind of favors someone from American Airlines owed Steve that warranted that.
He appreciated the gesture, as he got up and retrieved his carry on, following his seat mate out of the plane. It got him off the plane quickly, it kept him from being crammed in with other people when he wanted nothing but distance from the rest of the world. And maybe it made Steve feel a little better, when all he'd gotten from Danny for the last month had been daily texts.
He'd relented to that after he'd gone through all those voicemails from Steve in one night, replying by text that he was fine, and Steve needed to stop worrying. He'd even anticipated Steve's version of yeah, right, and written back that he'd check in once a day if Steve stopped calling, but if he kept it up, Danny wasn't answering.
His phone hadn't rung with Steve's picture showing up since, but as he got to baggage claim, it buzzed, and he looked down to see Steve's face. Which was better than what Danny had feared--he'd half expected to see Steve standing at the gate when the plane landed.
Danny's thumb hovered over the screen for a second before he changed his mind, letting the call go to voicemail and shoving the phone back in his pocket. He wasn't ready for reality.
He grabbed his bag and headed for his car, shoving his bag out of sight in the trunk and getting behind the wheel. It was strange, surreal, even, being back here, back in his car, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't watched his parents slowly fall apart following the funeral. His sisters had gone back to their homes, showing up at random times to check in, but Danny had been there day in and day out to see his parents' reactions.
It made him feel guilty for moving to Hawaii, so far from them, for choosing a job where they could lose him, too, any minute. But he couldn't give up who he was any more than he could live somewhere Grace didn't.
After all, look what happened when he forgot to be a cop for five seconds. Just long enough for his brother to get onto a plane and off to his eventual death.
Danny shoved that thought out of his brain and started the car, heading out of long term parking. He couldn't go home yet, wasn't ready for that, so he just started driving, no idea where he was even headed until he got there.
He pulled off the road and got out of the car, staring at the view. The first day on the island he'd let this view help him accept this was his new home, like it or not. He'd let it be the spot where he stood firm on Grace's custody.
Seemed as good a place as any to try to let reality seep back in.
More out of habit than anything, he unlocked his gun and put it on his hip, the weight both strange and familiar at the same time. It reminded him why he was here, why he couldn't just turn around, take Grace and flee to some other place far away.
Running until he reached the end of the Earth still wouldn't change the fact that Matt was dead.
Staring at the end of the Earth probably wouldn't help either, but he was already here, might as well stay for a while. He sat down, feet dangling over the edge, almost amused by how appropriate that was.
The view was still amazing, but it didn't have the answer for how he was supposed to get up and go back to his life like nothing had happened. Like everything was the same, and nothing had changed, and Matt was still running around with criminals and breathing and not...well, not in jail, where at least he'd be alive.
Because Danny had been too weak to stop him when he'd had the chance.
He stopped thinking about that, stopped thinking about anything--or at least he tried. Thoughts drifted through his head, random and out of order, for a while until he heard a car stop, and a door.
He turned around, not really surprised to see Steve. Danny's phone had been vibrating in his pocket for a while, but it had stopped, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Steve wouldn't just give up. He might have contented himself to texts that Danny was okay when he was 5,000 miles and an ocean away, but not when Danny was on the same small island.
Steve, being Steve, went with the obvious--like Danny didn't know he'd been calling? Just because he didn't answer the phone didn't mean he didn't know it had been ringing. But then Steve was good at burying his head in the sand--maybe that's why he liked the island. There was so much of it to bury his head in.
An image of Matt's coffin being lowered into the ground came to Danny's mind and he banished it.
"How are your folks holding up?" Steve asked.
They're not. They're falling apart. Their marriage might have survived divorce threats, but Danny wasn't sure it would survive this. He was sure his succinct explanation of just how well they weren't holding up didn't do it justice, but he was just as sure Steve got the picture all the same.
"How you doing?" Steve asked, after a moment.
His voice was low and careful, a tone Danny recognized from Steve dealing with traumatized victims and witnesses. It was so out of place and so perfect for the situation all at once that Danny had to fight the irrational urge to laugh.
"I'm all right," he said eventually, but he could feel the weight of Steve's stare. He didn't even need that to know that Steve wouldn't buy it--he hadn't bought it from texts for weeks, why would he buy it now?
"You know it's not your fault, Danny."
Right. Someone else let Matt get on that plane. Someone else tipped him off to the investigation, gave him the knowledge he needed to run, and then helped him get away.
Oh, no, wait, that was Danny.
He said as much to Steve, but Steve still wanted to make Danny the victim, not the perp.
"Don't do that. What, are you gonna second guess every decision you made?"
Danny just looked at him.
"I did that with my old man, Danny. I did that with Freddie, too. The truth is, I could never have saved either of them." Danny didn't answer, didn't even look at Steve, who, after a moment, added, again, "Don't do that to yourself."
Easy for him to say. Danny had been there for Steve's second guessing about his father, he'd heard the stories about Freddie, and seen what that had done to Steve even years later. So, yeah, it was easy for Steve to say now, but it had been a hell of a different story a month after it had happened, with everything still fresh.
Maybe in a few years Danny might be able to put all this into perspective. He couldn't see how, not now, but then everything looked different the further you got from it in the rear view mirror.
Unless it was the huge truck getting closer about to mow you down.
Steve's phone rang, and Danny listened as he answered, getting nothing from the few words he heard before Steve hung up. "That was Duke," Steve said. "Someone showed up at HPD and he'll only talk to Five-0." Steve hesitated only a second before asking, "You up for it?"
"Yeah," Danny said, because his ass was getting numb from sitting there, and he hadn't figured out a fucking thing. Maybe work would help. "Yeah," he said again, swinging his feet around and standing, ignoring the twinge in his knee. "I'll meet you there, all right?"
"Yeah." Steve took two steps toward the truck before he turned around. "Hey, Danny?"
Danny stopped, his hand on the door of his car. "Yeah?"
"It's good to have you back, partner."
Danny nodded and got into the car.
***
Danny was searching for anything that might lead them to a clue about Farrow, but coming up empty. He could really use Chin or Kono, but serial killer slashing up the island was kind of important. He could even use Jerry, not that he'd ever say that out loud. Jerry didn't need any encouragement--that's how they were in this mess to begin with.
"Excuse me?"
The Australian accent brought Danny up short, and he turned around to see a blonde woman in a suit, a slight frown on her face. The sensible suit, and the fact that she was unescorted, led Danny to one opinion: Lawyer. "Can I help you?" Danny asked.
"Sorry, I'm looking for Steve?"
"Steve?"
"McGarrett?" She blinked. "Oh, you must be Detective Williams," she said. "Sorry, long day, or I'd have realized sooner."
Danny put two and two together. "Right, you must be Deputy Prosecutor Clayton." Steve had mentioned he'd gone to her about the warrant. He'd neglected to mention that she was pretty. Or a woman.
Or that she called him Steve.
"Yes, Ellie Clayton." She put out her hand and Danny shook it automatically. "I've heard a lot about you."
I've heard nothing about you. But then he hadn't really given Steve a chance to say anything, and it had been over a month. In Steve McGarrett relationship-building time, that could be less than one day, or a whole year, depending on his mood. "So how, uh, do you know Steve?" Danny asked.
"He helped solve my father's murder." Her smile was fond. "His dad had tried for years to solve it, but then he died, and I ran into Steve at John's grave, and...." She shrugged. "He was so nice, and polite, and helpful, and he managed to solve the case."
Nice? Polite? Helpful? "Really? How interesting." Danny propped his hip against the computer table. "Polite?"
"He's quite the gentleman."
Oh I just bet he is. "That's our Steve."
"Look, if it's a bad time, I can come back another time."
"No, no, no, stay. It's fine. I'll just go find our nice, polite Steven. Wait here."
Danny ran into Steve on the stairway to the rendition room. He let Steve update him, then let him know what Fong's team had found--a lot of nothing--before dropping the bomb. "You have a visitor."
The sheer enjoyment of mocking Steve almost distracted Danny from his dark mood for a moment. He focused on the case, though, as Ellie told them about Farrow's connections. Which, of course, put them in deep shit.
"Ah, well, it's a good thing we didn't do anything stupid, then," Danny said, possibly a little too gleefully, as he turned to look at Steve.
If she was even halfway good at her job, she would have noticed something in Steve's offhand thanks for the advice, but she didn't need to, not with Jerry having his usual excellent timing. Fortunately, for once, he was actually aware enough of other people to lie. Unfortunately, he was a terrible liar.
And Ellie really was good at her job. Or she really knew Steve. "What did you do, Steve?"
Steve had the self-preservation to look appropriately chagrined as he said, "Nothing you want to know about."
Ellie looked at all three of them, then showed her own sense of self-preservation. "All right...I'll show myself out."
Danny hid his amusement as he turned back to Jerry, amusement fading entirely when Jerry said, "He's not Farrow," and threw a file in front of them.
***
"A helicopter?" Danny said, adding a great sigh of annoyance in case it wasn't clear in his voice. "Really?"
Steve gave him a look. "Look at it this way," he said, one foot already in the chopper, "at least I'm not flying it?"
"You make a good point," Danny said, climbing up after him. "I'm actually surprised you thought of it."
"Well, it goes both ways--if I'm not flying it, that's one less thing for you to bitch about."
Danny rolled his eyes, grateful for the semblance of normalcy. He hadn't fired a weapon since Colombia, and while he wasn't really worried about over a decade of training somehow going missing after a short time, it was still a little more nerve wracking than usual.
Especially when they had to make their entrance sliding down a rope out of a helicopter.
He'd hand that to Steve--Danny sure as hell had done a lot of things since he'd met the guy that he'd never considered before. Up to, and including, sex with another guy, but that was one more thing he was just not thinking about.
Not that it bothered him, it just didn't mean anything. So there was no point thinking about it.
The firefight was almost anticlimactic, save for one moment when Danny thought Steve might get shot. But he didn't, and they got their guy. Or guys, rather, spread out among a shitload of barrels just like the one Danny had been seeing in his nightmares.
He held back a little while Steve opened one of them, even though he knew the money had to be what was in them. Just in case, though, he waited until he could tell from Steve's face that it was, in fact, the money.
Steve gave Danny a long look. "Thanks for the heads up," he said.
Danny shrugged. "Couldn't have you getting yourself shot my first day back, could I?"
Steve huffed a sort of laugh. "I managed not to get shot while you were gone." His face grew serious before he added, "It's nice to have you back, partner."
"It's nice to be back."
And it was, if only for the distraction from seeing his parents and thinking about Matt. Work was the only distraction he had until Grace was back at home, and with the trip to New Jersey taking up more than his usual share of custody, he didn't get her back until the end of the week.
So work would do until then.
***
Consciousness came slowly, and with the weird sense of someone else in the room. Danny opened his eyes to see Steve standing over the bed, watching him sleep.
"That's creepy," Danny said, rubbing his eyes. "Also, it could get you shot."
Steve didn't answer. He just sat down on the side of the bed, face in super-frown mode, like Danny was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
"What's wrong?" Danny asked, starting to sit up, but Steve stopped him, his hand in the middle of Danny's chest, holding him down on the bed. "Steve?"
Steve shook his head, leaning down, capturing Danny's lips in a kiss and this, Danny knew this was a bad idea, was part of what he was avoiding, because it was so easy to lose himself in this and forget what had happened. But he wanted to forget, needed to forget, and Steve's mouth was a great place to lose himself.
That mouth moved its way down Danny's body with full intent, that laser focus that was so familiar from their job put to even better use on Danny's skin, tasting and teasing its way to Danny's dick. It felt good, like nothing else had since--
Danny woke to the phantom feel of Steve's mouth on him and nothing else but darkness. He drew in a long breath, letting it slowly go before opening his eyes to the darkness again.
He turned over, thumping his pillow and telling his subconscious to fuck off. That particular path to temporary oblivion was not an option. And he couldn't get drunk, either, because they might get a case.
So his subconscious could go back to dreaming about something non-Steve related. Like food. Or anything else.
But sleep was a long time in coming back.
***
Danny was staring at the kitchen sink, wondering if he looked long enough it would wash the half-eaten cereal out of his bowl. Before he found out, his phone rang. He checked the screen, seeing Steve's face, and wanting to ignore the call.
He couldn't; it might be a case. But he wanted to. "Hey," he said as he put the phone to his ear.
"Come fishing with us," Steve said.
"Us?"
"Me and Ellie. Come over to the house and go fishing."
Yeah, because being the charity case third wheel was so appealing. Danny knew it wasn't like that, but knowing and knowing was not the same thing, and his subconscious needed to learn its place anyway. "I can't," he said. "I'm about to go in to work. I want to get caught up so I'm up to speed before we get bombarded with cases again."
There was a long pause that told Danny Steve saw it for the bullshit it was. "You can catch up tomorrow," Steve said. "Seriously, Ellie's heard a lot about you. I know she'd like to get to know you."
Danny closed his eyes and gripped the counter. He wasn't in the mood for company and he wasn't in the mood for Steve McGarrett in hard sell mode. "Some other time, all right?"
He heard the sigh, though he suspected Steve didn't even know he'd made the noise. "Okay. Call me if you have any questions on the files or...anything."
Translation: If I don't hear from you I'll track your ass down.
"I'll be fine, but I'll call if I need you, okay?"
Translation: Track my ass down and there's gonna be a fight.
"Okay. Have fun."
"You, too."
Danny ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He should've said yes--fishing would've been a distraction, and he was sure they'd have had fun. But he wasn't up for delving into the questions of who he was, where he was from, etc.--especially not the family ones. And he wasn't up for Steve's careful scrutiny yet, either. He still needed time to be up to that level.
He rinsed out the bowl and left in the sink to deal with later as he dried his hands and headed for HQ.
***
Chapter 7
Author: stellarmeadow
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Paring: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC17
Summary: Season 5 coda series - think of it as Season 5 canon with a twist....
Notes: Chapter 6 - coda for ep 506. Missed previous chapters? Read them here:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
"We'd like to welcome you to Honolulu International Airport, where the local time is 2:33. Please remain seated until the captain has turned off the fasten seatbelt signs; however, if your cell phone is in reach, feel free to turn it on at this time. We'll be at the gate in just a few moments."
Danny stared out the window at the familiar sight of Honolulu, the too-bright, too-blue skies that were never allowed to be marred with grey clouds for very long, and then only for the express purpose of bringing about those rainbows that were so prevalent they put them on the fucking license plates.
He pulled out his phone and switched it off airplane mode with reluctance, waiting while it buzzed with various updates before it finally stopped. He checked his texts to see six from Steve, all random, all clearly designed to distract Danny from his return to reality.
"Kids, right?" his seatmate said, nodding at his own phone. "I got three, and my phone buzzes all day long with those texts."
The guy had managed to get the fact that Danny had a daughter out of Danny before he'd feigned sleep to avoid further conversation. "Yeah, kids," Danny said, because, hey, McGarrett really was nothing more than an overgrown kid most days anyway, right?
The plane stuttered to a halt, and Danny stretched, more than comfortable from the mysterious upgrade to first class. He had a sneaking suspicion who was behind it, and didn't want to know what kind of favors someone from American Airlines owed Steve that warranted that.
He appreciated the gesture, as he got up and retrieved his carry on, following his seat mate out of the plane. It got him off the plane quickly, it kept him from being crammed in with other people when he wanted nothing but distance from the rest of the world. And maybe it made Steve feel a little better, when all he'd gotten from Danny for the last month had been daily texts.
He'd relented to that after he'd gone through all those voicemails from Steve in one night, replying by text that he was fine, and Steve needed to stop worrying. He'd even anticipated Steve's version of yeah, right, and written back that he'd check in once a day if Steve stopped calling, but if he kept it up, Danny wasn't answering.
His phone hadn't rung with Steve's picture showing up since, but as he got to baggage claim, it buzzed, and he looked down to see Steve's face. Which was better than what Danny had feared--he'd half expected to see Steve standing at the gate when the plane landed.
Danny's thumb hovered over the screen for a second before he changed his mind, letting the call go to voicemail and shoving the phone back in his pocket. He wasn't ready for reality.
He grabbed his bag and headed for his car, shoving his bag out of sight in the trunk and getting behind the wheel. It was strange, surreal, even, being back here, back in his car, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't watched his parents slowly fall apart following the funeral. His sisters had gone back to their homes, showing up at random times to check in, but Danny had been there day in and day out to see his parents' reactions.
It made him feel guilty for moving to Hawaii, so far from them, for choosing a job where they could lose him, too, any minute. But he couldn't give up who he was any more than he could live somewhere Grace didn't.
After all, look what happened when he forgot to be a cop for five seconds. Just long enough for his brother to get onto a plane and off to his eventual death.
Danny shoved that thought out of his brain and started the car, heading out of long term parking. He couldn't go home yet, wasn't ready for that, so he just started driving, no idea where he was even headed until he got there.
He pulled off the road and got out of the car, staring at the view. The first day on the island he'd let this view help him accept this was his new home, like it or not. He'd let it be the spot where he stood firm on Grace's custody.
Seemed as good a place as any to try to let reality seep back in.
More out of habit than anything, he unlocked his gun and put it on his hip, the weight both strange and familiar at the same time. It reminded him why he was here, why he couldn't just turn around, take Grace and flee to some other place far away.
Running until he reached the end of the Earth still wouldn't change the fact that Matt was dead.
Staring at the end of the Earth probably wouldn't help either, but he was already here, might as well stay for a while. He sat down, feet dangling over the edge, almost amused by how appropriate that was.
The view was still amazing, but it didn't have the answer for how he was supposed to get up and go back to his life like nothing had happened. Like everything was the same, and nothing had changed, and Matt was still running around with criminals and breathing and not...well, not in jail, where at least he'd be alive.
Because Danny had been too weak to stop him when he'd had the chance.
He stopped thinking about that, stopped thinking about anything--or at least he tried. Thoughts drifted through his head, random and out of order, for a while until he heard a car stop, and a door.
He turned around, not really surprised to see Steve. Danny's phone had been vibrating in his pocket for a while, but it had stopped, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Steve wouldn't just give up. He might have contented himself to texts that Danny was okay when he was 5,000 miles and an ocean away, but not when Danny was on the same small island.
Steve, being Steve, went with the obvious--like Danny didn't know he'd been calling? Just because he didn't answer the phone didn't mean he didn't know it had been ringing. But then Steve was good at burying his head in the sand--maybe that's why he liked the island. There was so much of it to bury his head in.
An image of Matt's coffin being lowered into the ground came to Danny's mind and he banished it.
"How are your folks holding up?" Steve asked.
They're not. They're falling apart. Their marriage might have survived divorce threats, but Danny wasn't sure it would survive this. He was sure his succinct explanation of just how well they weren't holding up didn't do it justice, but he was just as sure Steve got the picture all the same.
"How you doing?" Steve asked, after a moment.
His voice was low and careful, a tone Danny recognized from Steve dealing with traumatized victims and witnesses. It was so out of place and so perfect for the situation all at once that Danny had to fight the irrational urge to laugh.
"I'm all right," he said eventually, but he could feel the weight of Steve's stare. He didn't even need that to know that Steve wouldn't buy it--he hadn't bought it from texts for weeks, why would he buy it now?
"You know it's not your fault, Danny."
Right. Someone else let Matt get on that plane. Someone else tipped him off to the investigation, gave him the knowledge he needed to run, and then helped him get away.
Oh, no, wait, that was Danny.
He said as much to Steve, but Steve still wanted to make Danny the victim, not the perp.
"Don't do that. What, are you gonna second guess every decision you made?"
Danny just looked at him.
"I did that with my old man, Danny. I did that with Freddie, too. The truth is, I could never have saved either of them." Danny didn't answer, didn't even look at Steve, who, after a moment, added, again, "Don't do that to yourself."
Easy for him to say. Danny had been there for Steve's second guessing about his father, he'd heard the stories about Freddie, and seen what that had done to Steve even years later. So, yeah, it was easy for Steve to say now, but it had been a hell of a different story a month after it had happened, with everything still fresh.
Maybe in a few years Danny might be able to put all this into perspective. He couldn't see how, not now, but then everything looked different the further you got from it in the rear view mirror.
Unless it was the huge truck getting closer about to mow you down.
Steve's phone rang, and Danny listened as he answered, getting nothing from the few words he heard before Steve hung up. "That was Duke," Steve said. "Someone showed up at HPD and he'll only talk to Five-0." Steve hesitated only a second before asking, "You up for it?"
"Yeah," Danny said, because his ass was getting numb from sitting there, and he hadn't figured out a fucking thing. Maybe work would help. "Yeah," he said again, swinging his feet around and standing, ignoring the twinge in his knee. "I'll meet you there, all right?"
"Yeah." Steve took two steps toward the truck before he turned around. "Hey, Danny?"
Danny stopped, his hand on the door of his car. "Yeah?"
"It's good to have you back, partner."
Danny nodded and got into the car.
***
Danny was searching for anything that might lead them to a clue about Farrow, but coming up empty. He could really use Chin or Kono, but serial killer slashing up the island was kind of important. He could even use Jerry, not that he'd ever say that out loud. Jerry didn't need any encouragement--that's how they were in this mess to begin with.
"Excuse me?"
The Australian accent brought Danny up short, and he turned around to see a blonde woman in a suit, a slight frown on her face. The sensible suit, and the fact that she was unescorted, led Danny to one opinion: Lawyer. "Can I help you?" Danny asked.
"Sorry, I'm looking for Steve?"
"Steve?"
"McGarrett?" She blinked. "Oh, you must be Detective Williams," she said. "Sorry, long day, or I'd have realized sooner."
Danny put two and two together. "Right, you must be Deputy Prosecutor Clayton." Steve had mentioned he'd gone to her about the warrant. He'd neglected to mention that she was pretty. Or a woman.
Or that she called him Steve.
"Yes, Ellie Clayton." She put out her hand and Danny shook it automatically. "I've heard a lot about you."
I've heard nothing about you. But then he hadn't really given Steve a chance to say anything, and it had been over a month. In Steve McGarrett relationship-building time, that could be less than one day, or a whole year, depending on his mood. "So how, uh, do you know Steve?" Danny asked.
"He helped solve my father's murder." Her smile was fond. "His dad had tried for years to solve it, but then he died, and I ran into Steve at John's grave, and...." She shrugged. "He was so nice, and polite, and helpful, and he managed to solve the case."
Nice? Polite? Helpful? "Really? How interesting." Danny propped his hip against the computer table. "Polite?"
"He's quite the gentleman."
Oh I just bet he is. "That's our Steve."
"Look, if it's a bad time, I can come back another time."
"No, no, no, stay. It's fine. I'll just go find our nice, polite Steven. Wait here."
Danny ran into Steve on the stairway to the rendition room. He let Steve update him, then let him know what Fong's team had found--a lot of nothing--before dropping the bomb. "You have a visitor."
The sheer enjoyment of mocking Steve almost distracted Danny from his dark mood for a moment. He focused on the case, though, as Ellie told them about Farrow's connections. Which, of course, put them in deep shit.
"Ah, well, it's a good thing we didn't do anything stupid, then," Danny said, possibly a little too gleefully, as he turned to look at Steve.
If she was even halfway good at her job, she would have noticed something in Steve's offhand thanks for the advice, but she didn't need to, not with Jerry having his usual excellent timing. Fortunately, for once, he was actually aware enough of other people to lie. Unfortunately, he was a terrible liar.
And Ellie really was good at her job. Or she really knew Steve. "What did you do, Steve?"
Steve had the self-preservation to look appropriately chagrined as he said, "Nothing you want to know about."
Ellie looked at all three of them, then showed her own sense of self-preservation. "All right...I'll show myself out."
Danny hid his amusement as he turned back to Jerry, amusement fading entirely when Jerry said, "He's not Farrow," and threw a file in front of them.
***
"A helicopter?" Danny said, adding a great sigh of annoyance in case it wasn't clear in his voice. "Really?"
Steve gave him a look. "Look at it this way," he said, one foot already in the chopper, "at least I'm not flying it?"
"You make a good point," Danny said, climbing up after him. "I'm actually surprised you thought of it."
"Well, it goes both ways--if I'm not flying it, that's one less thing for you to bitch about."
Danny rolled his eyes, grateful for the semblance of normalcy. He hadn't fired a weapon since Colombia, and while he wasn't really worried about over a decade of training somehow going missing after a short time, it was still a little more nerve wracking than usual.
Especially when they had to make their entrance sliding down a rope out of a helicopter.
He'd hand that to Steve--Danny sure as hell had done a lot of things since he'd met the guy that he'd never considered before. Up to, and including, sex with another guy, but that was one more thing he was just not thinking about.
Not that it bothered him, it just didn't mean anything. So there was no point thinking about it.
The firefight was almost anticlimactic, save for one moment when Danny thought Steve might get shot. But he didn't, and they got their guy. Or guys, rather, spread out among a shitload of barrels just like the one Danny had been seeing in his nightmares.
He held back a little while Steve opened one of them, even though he knew the money had to be what was in them. Just in case, though, he waited until he could tell from Steve's face that it was, in fact, the money.
Steve gave Danny a long look. "Thanks for the heads up," he said.
Danny shrugged. "Couldn't have you getting yourself shot my first day back, could I?"
Steve huffed a sort of laugh. "I managed not to get shot while you were gone." His face grew serious before he added, "It's nice to have you back, partner."
"It's nice to be back."
And it was, if only for the distraction from seeing his parents and thinking about Matt. Work was the only distraction he had until Grace was back at home, and with the trip to New Jersey taking up more than his usual share of custody, he didn't get her back until the end of the week.
So work would do until then.
***
Consciousness came slowly, and with the weird sense of someone else in the room. Danny opened his eyes to see Steve standing over the bed, watching him sleep.
"That's creepy," Danny said, rubbing his eyes. "Also, it could get you shot."
Steve didn't answer. He just sat down on the side of the bed, face in super-frown mode, like Danny was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
"What's wrong?" Danny asked, starting to sit up, but Steve stopped him, his hand in the middle of Danny's chest, holding him down on the bed. "Steve?"
Steve shook his head, leaning down, capturing Danny's lips in a kiss and this, Danny knew this was a bad idea, was part of what he was avoiding, because it was so easy to lose himself in this and forget what had happened. But he wanted to forget, needed to forget, and Steve's mouth was a great place to lose himself.
That mouth moved its way down Danny's body with full intent, that laser focus that was so familiar from their job put to even better use on Danny's skin, tasting and teasing its way to Danny's dick. It felt good, like nothing else had since--
Danny woke to the phantom feel of Steve's mouth on him and nothing else but darkness. He drew in a long breath, letting it slowly go before opening his eyes to the darkness again.
He turned over, thumping his pillow and telling his subconscious to fuck off. That particular path to temporary oblivion was not an option. And he couldn't get drunk, either, because they might get a case.
So his subconscious could go back to dreaming about something non-Steve related. Like food. Or anything else.
But sleep was a long time in coming back.
***
Danny was staring at the kitchen sink, wondering if he looked long enough it would wash the half-eaten cereal out of his bowl. Before he found out, his phone rang. He checked the screen, seeing Steve's face, and wanting to ignore the call.
He couldn't; it might be a case. But he wanted to. "Hey," he said as he put the phone to his ear.
"Come fishing with us," Steve said.
"Us?"
"Me and Ellie. Come over to the house and go fishing."
Yeah, because being the charity case third wheel was so appealing. Danny knew it wasn't like that, but knowing and knowing was not the same thing, and his subconscious needed to learn its place anyway. "I can't," he said. "I'm about to go in to work. I want to get caught up so I'm up to speed before we get bombarded with cases again."
There was a long pause that told Danny Steve saw it for the bullshit it was. "You can catch up tomorrow," Steve said. "Seriously, Ellie's heard a lot about you. I know she'd like to get to know you."
Danny closed his eyes and gripped the counter. He wasn't in the mood for company and he wasn't in the mood for Steve McGarrett in hard sell mode. "Some other time, all right?"
He heard the sigh, though he suspected Steve didn't even know he'd made the noise. "Okay. Call me if you have any questions on the files or...anything."
Translation: If I don't hear from you I'll track your ass down.
"I'll be fine, but I'll call if I need you, okay?"
Translation: Track my ass down and there's gonna be a fight.
"Okay. Have fun."
"You, too."
Danny ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He should've said yes--fishing would've been a distraction, and he was sure they'd have had fun. But he wasn't up for delving into the questions of who he was, where he was from, etc.--especially not the family ones. And he wasn't up for Steve's careful scrutiny yet, either. He still needed time to be up to that level.
He rinsed out the bowl and left in the sink to deal with later as he dried his hands and headed for HQ.
***
Chapter 7