fic: Oblivion (8/?) (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 8 - coda for ep 508. Missed previous chapters? Read them here:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
"Where is he?"
Wo Fat's voice was even stronger than his grip on Steve's head as he yanked it back, forcing Steve to look up at him. As if Steve could do anything at this point, so pumped full of drugs he didn't know what was real, let alone how to make his muscles work.
He was going to die here.
He was going to die, and Danny was going to find him. Maybe Wo Fat would put him in a barrel, because that would just be about Danny's luck, to find Steve in a barrel, the same way they'd found Matt.
"Tell me where he is," Wo Fat said again.
"I don't know. So kill me."
Wo Fat laughed. "Not just yet. I think I'll find someone whose potential death might be a little more motivating for you."
He let Steve's head go, circling the chair. "Joe White?" Steve stared straight ahead and refused to react. "Or the young Officer Kalakaua? Maybe Sergeant Kelly?" He stopped right in front of Steve. "Or maybe Detective Williams."
Steve tensed, even though he tried not to, and it was just enough that Wo Fat caught it, because he laughed. "Detective Williams it is," Wo Fat said, striding towards the door.
"Don't you touch him!" Steve screamed after him! "Don't you--"
"Steve." Danny's voice, soft and low, familiar as the hands on both of Steve's arms, keeping him from flailing around.
"Danny?" Steve opened his eyes, blinking at the bedroom. His bedroom, just starting to brighten with predawn light. Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, surprised to realize he was sitting up. "Shit," Steve said into his hand, before flopping backwards onto his pillow.
He opened his eyes after a moment to see Danny studying him. "Bad one this time?"
"Why?"
"Because you were halfway out of bed, yelling."
Fuck. He hadn't reacted that badly in weeks. But then Wo Fat hadn't threatened Danny in his dreams before.
He didn't want to think about what it meant that the dream was morphing like that.
"Sorry," Steve said again. As if he somehow still needed to apologize after at least a dozen nights of waking Danny like this. As if Danny wasn't still sleeping there any night he didn't have Grace for this very reason.
Not that Danny had said as much. Not that Danny had said anything about it. They hadn't talked about it at all. It had just become the new norm, routine for Danny to stay whenever Grace was with Rachel. If he had Grace, then Steve had dinner with them more often than not before going home, and when Steve woke up from a nightmare, there was invariably a text either already waiting, or within a few minutes. And a phone call often followed.
He'd been afraid to ask Danny if he'd put a camera somewhere in the room just to monitor him.
"Hey, Steve, you with me?"
Always that same, soft voice, every night, either in person or over the phone. "Yeah," Steve said, rubbing his face again. "Sorry, just...sorry."
"There are a lot of things you should absolutely apologize for," Danny said, "chief among them how you never let me drive my car, but this is not one of them." When Steve didn't respond, Danny leaned down, his face inches from Steve's. "Got it?"
"Yeah," Steve said. "I got it." He didn't, though. He had no translator for this strange language Danny had been using lately. It was like English, but not--the words were familiar, but the meaning was somehow not quite right.
Danny muttered something, but he seemed satisfied enough to flop back on the bed. Steve glanced at the clock, watching as it turned from 5:25 to 5:26. "I'm not getting back to sleep," he said finally, shoving the sheet off him and getting out of bed.
"You want some breakfast?" Danny said around a yawn.
"No, I'm gonna go for a swim. Get some more sleep. I'll fix something when I come back."
He grabbed his trunks and went downstairs, changing in the downstairs bedroom and grabbing a towel before heading out to the beach. The water was warm, embracing him, washing away the memory of harsher uses for it a little more each time he was out here. This was the ocean that had comforted him after loss throughout the years; he wasn't losing that to a memory.
For a long time it was the only comfort he had.
Now, though...there's Danny. Steve had seen the dark shadows for weeks after Danny had returned from New Jersey. He knew Danny wasn't sleeping through the night now, but the shadows were getting better. How little sleep had he been getting before if this was better?
Was that the reason he stayed without being asked, without discussing it? Because as weird as it probably seemed to anyone on the outside, it didn't feel weird. And Steve remembered the weeks of sleepless nights as he'd grappled with various losses; he was fucking grateful that Danny was there to at least let him sleep some this time.
He just hadn't considered that Danny might be getting some of his own healing from their odd little arrangement.
He should've seen it, should've pushed his way in without asking, the way Danny was doing now. This was Danny--he didn't know how to ask for help any more than Steve did, and he wasn't shy about pushing Steve without being asked. He also didn't complain when Steve did the same--well, he complained, he complained a lot, but he never meant it.
It was part of why they worked.
They knew without asking what each other needed, from sex to a shoulder. Not that they'd had sex, which was just another one of the oddities of this whole thing. But maybe that's how that worked, too, one or the other, anger needing a different outlet than pain.
It was one of those things he didn't want to examine too closely. Why fix what wasn't broken?
He cleared his mind and focused on his strokes, his own mental exercise to go along with the physical, repairing his mind as well as his body from the abuse it took as the sun rose over the ocean.
***
The sun was warm and bright by the time Steve got back to the beach. He dried off as he walked through the grass to the lanai. By the time he was in the dining room, the scent of breakfast drew him into the kitchen.
Danny was at the stove, watching a frying pan like he was auditioning for Iron Chef. Steve draped his towel around his shoulders and leaned against the fridge, watching for a moment before saying, "I thought you were going to get some more sleep."
"I tried," Danny said, looking over his shoulder, "but I couldn't, so I got up. Figured I'd make breakfast when I saw you heading back.
So he'd been awake all this time and watching. He didn't look as if he was exhausted, though. If anything there was a light in his eyes that had only lately started reappearing, set off by the bright morning sunlight and the deep blue of his shirt--one of the ones that had migrated to Steve's closet without discussion. It made sense--Danny was waking up there half the time, why wouldn't he have some clothes that stayed there?
"Have you managed to successfully mangle the eggs yet?" Steve asked, getting a bottle of water out of the fridge.
"Mock me and I will not let you taste my culinary genius, my friend."
Steve laughed, but the truth was that Danny had become a much better cook, and Steve had benefitted greatly from it the past few weeks. Danny might think there was something wrong with him if he admitted it, though, so he kept his mouth shut.
"I see you don't have a comeback for that one," Danny teased.
Steve shrugged as he downed the water. "I'm hungry," he said, tossing the bottle in the recycling bin.
"Here," Danny said, handing Steve a coffee mug.
After one sip, Steve's eyes widened--Danny had broken out the French press and everything. "What's the special occasion?" Steve asked between sips.
"It's breakfast," Danny said. "We get that just for waking up in the morning."
Which sometimes was a feat in itself, just to make it through the night and get out of bed the next day, so Steve supposed that could be a special occasion. He still felt like his English filter--or maybe it was just his Danny filter--was slightly off or something, but they'd been doing just fine not talking about anything.
Besides, he liked seeing Danny looking happy.
"You cook like this every morning," Steve said, "you'll make someone a great wife."
The joke left an odd taste in his mouth, but Danny just laughed. "You're hilarious," he said, backhanding Steve on the arm gently on the way to the fridge. "Go sit down. I'll bring the food."
Steve tried to find something to say in return, but couldn't, so he gave up and did as he was told.
***
Danny cursed the early lunch traffic as he waited to turn onto Beretania. He'd hoped to make it to his house and the dry cleaner's in time to be at HQ before the traffic got annoying, but they'd taken longer at the Kealoha house than planned.
At least his suit would be nice and clean for the wedding tomorrow.
Steve's paranoia over his aunt's fiancé was not exactly unexpected, given the number of family members telling him the truth was pretty low. If he was Steve he'd probably be wearing a tin hat by now. The fact that Doris was still hiding from him didn't help matters--if Steve didn't get some closure on that front soon, he'd be in danger of turning into Jerry.
Not that Danny wasn't doing his best to help. He'd pretty much moved into Steve's part time without asking, because he'd known what was coming, and he'd also known Steve wouldn't ask or tell unless Danny forced it out of him, or was there to see it.
And he was done watching Steve walk around like a zombie for a few months after catastrophes.
Danny felt better doing something for someone he cared about--it was a nice distraction. A different one than the bouts of sex they'd been using for temporary distraction, but one that was more sustainable and long-lasting.
Sex was fleeting.
He pulled into his spot and jogged up the front sidewalk, mulling over the Kealoha case until bright red hair caught his eye. "Deb?" Danny called out to the couple on the steps.
She turned, a smile lighting her face, reminding Danny of her nephew. "Danny!" Deb said, leaning in to give him a hug. "It's so lovely to see you again."
"You, too," Danny said, looking expectantly at Leonard.
"This is my fiancé, Leonard," Deb said. "We're getting married tomorrow--did Steve tell you?"
"Oh yeah, I just took my suit to the cleaners so I'll look nice for it." Danny shook Leonard's hand. "Nice to meet you."
"You, too."
Leonard's handshake was firm, and wow, Steve wasn't kidding about the hands. Smooth as a baby's bottom. "Wow, that's some smooth hands you've got there," Danny said, fishing as delicately as he knew how. "You're gonna have to tell me what kind of lotion you use."
"You'll have to ask the lady on the ship," Leonard said.
"What?"
Deb stepped in. "I insisted we get mani pedis the last day on the ship in preparation for the wedding."
Okay, Danny knew guys like Leonard--his dad had friends that could almost be the guy's clone. And if he sat through a mani pedi, he must be in love. "How sweet," Danny said. "Sounds like the cruise had everything."
He listened to Deb extolling the virtues of the ship as he escorted them through security and to the offices, almost falling all over himself to explain the soft hands to Steve. The guy had enough to worry about, hopefully this would take one thing off his plate.
Steve did look a little relieved at hearing the story, so Danny counted it as a win and went back to focusing on their new suspect. He waited until they were driving out to talk to Tai, Steve deciding to take his truck for once, to ask, "So, feel better about Leonard yet?"
"I don't know, man." The words were slow and halting. "Something still seems off."
Danny took a deep breath. "Maybe nothing's off," he said carefully. "Maybe it's just...."
Steve spared him a glance. "Just what?"
"Nothing." Danny nodded up ahead. "There's the rental place."
***
Tai Gable was a total brain trust, but once Danny met Tai's mother, he could at least see why. But understanding the reason he was the way he was didn't help their case any. Nor did the discussion on the way back to the car.
Steve's phone rang with what Danny hoped was a lead as he got into the car. It became obvious that it as a lead, just not on their case.
It was going to be really hard to break Steve of his borderline paranoia when he kept ending up being right.
Sure enough, the first thing Steve said after hanging up and getting into the car was, "I was right."
"What, when you took off without me at the scooter rental and left me to the mercy of Grover's driving?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "Will you let that go?"
"Grover's driving, Steven. He makes you look like Mario Andretti."
Steve gave him a glare and long-suffering sigh. "That was Jerry on the phone."
"Yeah, I heard. Leonard's a lawyer?"
"Mob lawyer," Steve said, starting the car and peeling off with more speed than was really necessary.
That explained the soft hands. "Who was he with?"
"The Leone family. He got Gino Leone off of three murder charges in ten years."
"Judging from what I heard of the conversation, it wasn't just his silver tongue that did the job?"
Steve gripped the wheel harder as he took a turn faster than Danny's stomach liked. "FBI wire tap has the Leone brothers talking about Leonard destroying a murder weapon."
"Okay. That doesn't mean he did it."
"Danny--"
"No, listen to me for a minute, okay? Two mob guys say on a wire tap that Leonard destroyed the murder weapon. They are not exactly what we would call star witnesses."
Steve rolled his eyes. "What reason would they have for saying it, then?"
"I don't know. Maybe they knew they were being recorded and trying to implicate him instead because he wouldn't do it. Or maybe they're idiots. My point is, just because they said it doesn't make it so."
He could see Steve trying to control his emotions before Steve finally said, "Okay, so then why is he lying to Deb?"
"Because he loves her?"
"And people lying to those they love never ends badly, right?"
Yeah, this was going well. "Look, think about this like a cop, okay?" Danny said. "What's his motive?"
"Motive?"
"Yeah. If he's doing this, he must want something, right? Does your aunt have any money?"
"Not enough that would matter, and she doesn't have a big insurance policy or anything."
"Then why is he doing this? Other than love?"
Steve sighed and watched the road, McGarrett speak for 'I don't have an answer.'
"The guy's dying, Steve. And he wants to marry the woman he loves before he does. People have lied for a lot less."
"Yeah," Steve said after a moment.
"So you gonna tell her?"
Steve glanced at him. "I have a choice?"
There's always a choice, Danny started to say, but he thought about who he was talking to, and realized that no, there really wasn't. Steve wasn't wired for this to be a choice--his parents had seen to that.
***
" Leonard isn't lying to me. I've been lying to you."
The words didn't make sense at first, but once they fell into place, he wasn't even that surprised. Lying did run in his family after all. Though she of all people should know how he felt about lies--the first thing she'd told him was that she didn't know where Doris was. Assuming that was true.
But no, he knew she wouldn't lie about that. She had her limits.
And her disappointments, he realized, as he listened to her talk about the things she'd missed out on. He got it, he did--she had finally found love and she had so little time left to enjoy it, she'd just wanted to avoid the inevitable fight Leonard's past would cause.
He didn't like it, but he got it.
"Steve, the one thing I never gave up on was love," Deb said. "And I guess it never gave up on me, either, because here he is. At long last." Her smile was radiant. "And now, you know, I can leave this earth, knowing that I have experienced the most profound and life-altering thing a person can. I just hope that someday you'll know how wonderful that feels."
She took his hand. "Steve, you're so willing to risk your life. When are you gonna be willing to risk your heart?"
"I did."
"Then where's Catherine?"
He'd been dreading this. He told her the short version of what had happened, and that Catherine was not coming back. She'd been very clear about that, and about Steve's need to move on. He thought about asking Deb what it was about him that made the women in his life choose dangerous jobs in foreign countries over facing him, but decided that might sound a little melodramatic.
And he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
He didn't want the sympathy in her eyes or her voice, either, as she said she was sorry. Didn't need it, in fact. He told her he'd trusted his heart, but the truth was, he hadn't. He'd kept part of it locked away, safe and sound, so it couldn't get hurt. He always did. She hadn't had his whole heart. He wasn't sure anyone ever would.
Maybe he wasn't built for that level of trust.
You trust Danny with everything, the little voice in his head said. Which was true. But that was different. Danny wasn't a risk. Danny was incapable of hurting Steve--he'd proven it time and time again. He'd defied Rachel to stay and help Steve when he was in trouble, then he'd defied her again to keep Grace and himself on the island.
Danny wasn't going to desert him, he knew that like he knew his own name. But that wasn't about love or a leap of romantic faith or something with hearts and flowers.
That was just incontrovertible fact.
***
They said their goodbyes to Travis and Jake, and a slightly more stiff goodbye to the lawyer--Steve still wasn't sure the guy hadn't at least known what Kate had been planning. He thought about ways to prove it all the way to the car, but came up with zero.
"What?" Danny said, as Steve pulled out into traffic.
Steve glanced at him. "What what?"
"That face. What's up?"
Steve sighed. "I just don't get how a mother could love her kids so much, and yet understand them so little. Those kids would've lived in a two bedroom apartment and not complained once if it meant keeping their parents. And she took that away from them for money."
"Most parents are hardwired to protect their children," Danny said slowly. "But that doesn't mean they always make the right decisions. Babies don't come with manuals." He shrugged. "Screwing up doesn't mean they don't love their kids."
Steve studied him for a moment. "I wasn't talking about Doris."
"Did I say you were?" At Steve's look, Danny frowned. "Did Deb have info on her?"
"No. Before I could even ask she told me she didn't know where Doris was." Steve tapped the steering wheel a few times, checking the rear view mirror with more care than it probably needed. "She has to know he's dead," he said finally. "Wouldn't that make it safe for her to come back? She could lie to me about the connection, and I'd never know--at least as far as she knows. Right?"
"Maybe not," Danny said. "She doesn't know what he might have told you. She doesn't know what she'd be facing if she came back."
"She knows she'd be facing a son who wants to see her."
Even to his own ears his voice sounded hoarse. He turned on the radio to cover the sound and changed the subject before Danny could say anything else.
***
Steve was just getting out of the truck when Danny pulled up to the house, despite Danny leaving first. He'd said he had to run an errand, and Steve figured he knew what it was when he saw the dry cleaning bag Danny pulled out of the back seat.
"What's in the bag?" Steve asked.
"My suit for the wedding. Just picked it up--all nice and clean for tomorrow."
"There's plenty of room in the closet upstairs," Steve said as he unlocked the door, "if you want to hang it up."
Of course, several of Danny's shirts were already in the closet, so he knew how much space there was. Steve just wanted to make sure he knew he was welcome to the space he'd already taken up and more.
He didn't know how else to say thank you, since he suspected Danny would have the same view of that that he did of saying I'm sorry.
"Thanks," Danny said, heading up the stairs. "What's for dinner?"
Steve thought about the energy it would take to actually make something. "Pizza?"
Danny looked down from the landing. "No pineapples."
"Have I ever forced you to eat pineapples on pizza? Other than making you try it once, just to say you did?"
"No, but it's you. Who knows what you might decide to do at any time? It's important to reinforce the limits."
Steve shook his head. "Go hang up your suit. I'll order the pizza."
He pulled out his phone, flipping through the contacts. Only when he'd hit dial did it occur to him how good the routine they had felt. Normal, almost.
"JJ Dolan's, how can I help you?"
Steve put the other thoughts out of his head and focused on food.
***
The door opened, and Steve saw Danny get shoved through, Wo Fat right behind him, a gun pointed at Danny's head.
Fuck. He hadn't wanted to pull Danny into this. "Wo Fat, I swear, I will kill you."
Wo Fat just laughed. "And yet I am the one with the gun," he said, shoving Danny to his knees, facing Steve, less than a foot away. "No more games, McGarrett," Wo Fat said. "Where is my father?"
"I told you, I don't know."
"Wrong answer." Wo Fat put the gun to the side of Danny's head. "Where is my father?"
"You kill him, and I will make you die the most painful ways I can possibly imagine."
Wo Fat looked unimpressed. "You have to the count of five. One."
"I swear to you, you will pay!"
"Two. Three."
"Let him go! I don't know where your father is!"
"Four."
"I don't know!"
"Five."
The crack of the gun woke Steve, and he looked around wildly, seeing Danny right beside him, sitting up, whole and unharmed. Steve let out a shaky breath, taking several more before they even started to calm down.
"You okay?" Danny asked after a minute.
Steve nodded, rubbing his face with both hands before looking up at Danny. "I'm okay."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"No," Steve said. "But not talking about it doesn't seem to be helping, so...." Steve sat up, the change in angle allowing him to see more of Danny's face in the moonlight. "The last couple nights it's been Wo Fat trying to get me to tell him where his father is."
"Is it like it happened, or different?"
Steve wondered at the question. "It's different. He...he keeps threatening you," Steve admitted in a low voice. "Trying to use you to get me to tell."
Danny nodded as if that made perfect sense. "After...after Colombia," Danny said, the words halting, "I had a lot of dreams. Still have them, but not as many. Most of them involved Reyes using other people to try to get me to find the money. Grace, my family...you."
"How did you make them stop coming all the time?"
"Time." Danny gave a half shrug. "And they don't seem to really hit when I'm here."
So he really was waking up with his own nightmares on the nights he was texting from home, then. "I can't decide if that makes me feel better or worse about waking you with mine."
Danny's smile flashed in the moonlight for a second. "Come on," he said, dragging Steve back down onto the bed. "We actually have time to catch a little more sleep before morning."
Steve shuffled around, settling in when his arm was pressed against Danny's from shoulder to wrist. The contact helped, almost as if some of the pain was seeping out of him and into Danny. It was easier and more painful than the other times, when he'd soldiered through deaths and loss. He was feeling the pain this time, and it hurt like hell. But the conduit to Danny was like some sort of painkiller, taking it away bit by bit over time.
He might be new to the concept of sharing his pain, but he thought maybe he could get used to it, if this was the result.
I can leave this earth, knowing that I have experienced the most profound and life-altering thing a person can. I just hope that someday you'll know how wonderful that feels.
Deb's words about Leonard floated through his mind, suddenly making more sense. It wasn't the same, this thing with Danny. There were no hearts and flowers, no romance, none of those things entered into it. But Danny had definitely altered his life in ways that Steve hadn't expected, had thought he didn't even want.
And his life was better for it.
***
"Deb looks happy."
Danny's voice sounded a little wistful. Steve watched Deb dancing with Leonard, their cheeks pressed together, and understood why. They looked more than happy. They looked ecstatic. The picture of storybook love, minus the happily ever after, at least long term.
But it didn't seem to bother them.
"Yeah, she does. I hope they get some good time together."
The song ended, and Deb gave Leonard a kiss and headed for Steve and Danny's table. "Sorry," she said, as she sat down. "If I'd been thinking, I would've invited some of the pretty girls who were on our cruise so you fellas would have someone to dance with."
"That's okay," Danny teased, "if I get really desperate I'll just ask Steve." He stood. "I'm going for a drink--would you like one, Deb?"
"Champagne, please?"
Danny nodded and walked off. Steve watched him go, buzzed a little on the combination of alcohol and the nice evening they'd had so far. No cases, no nightmares, just a celebration of family and love.
He turned, frowning at the look on Deb's face. "What's that look?" he asked.
She shook her head, her face smoothing out into a smile. "I was just wondering if you were going to take my advice."
"Huh?"
"Look...Mary told me a little about how you got that new scar," she said, pointing to the scar she'd so carefully covered with makeup so he wouldn't ruin her wedding pictures. "And I know you've had a few other close calls. So I'm here to tell you, kiddo, if you find love, don't fight it. No matter where you find it."
"That's a pretty big if."
"Is it?"
Before he could try to get her meaning out of her, Danny returned, a glass and two bottles in hand. He gave Deb the champagne, and put a Longboard in front of Steve before taking his seat. "We drink too many more of these," Danny said, "and we'll be staying at the hotel tonight."
"I'm fine," Steve said.
"This is your fourth," Danny replied. "Do we need a reminder of the staple gun incident?"
"That was six beers," Steve said. "And besides, I'm not driving a staple gun. I'm not driving anything for a while yet."
He saw the light in Danny's eyes, then, realized Danny was just having fun winding him up in front of his aunt. "And really, do you want to talk about the picture hanging incident?"
"No," Danny said quickly. "No, I do not."
"That's what I thought."
Deb was laughing at them. "The pair of you...."
"What?" Steve asked, because that tone was still there that he couldn't quite figure out.
"Nothing." Deb stood up. "The bride shouldn't sit out more than one song at her own wedding," she said, holding out a hand to Danny. "Care to dance?"
"Absolutely."
Steve watched them go out to the floor, saw Deb lean in and say something that made Danny laugh and look over at the table. He thought about worrying about what she might have said, but he was having too good a night to bother.
If Danny was laughing, it couldn't have been that bad.
***
TBC
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 8 - coda for ep 508. Missed previous chapters? Read them here:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
"Where is he?"
Wo Fat's voice was even stronger than his grip on Steve's head as he yanked it back, forcing Steve to look up at him. As if Steve could do anything at this point, so pumped full of drugs he didn't know what was real, let alone how to make his muscles work.
He was going to die here.
He was going to die, and Danny was going to find him. Maybe Wo Fat would put him in a barrel, because that would just be about Danny's luck, to find Steve in a barrel, the same way they'd found Matt.
"Tell me where he is," Wo Fat said again.
"I don't know. So kill me."
Wo Fat laughed. "Not just yet. I think I'll find someone whose potential death might be a little more motivating for you."
He let Steve's head go, circling the chair. "Joe White?" Steve stared straight ahead and refused to react. "Or the young Officer Kalakaua? Maybe Sergeant Kelly?" He stopped right in front of Steve. "Or maybe Detective Williams."
Steve tensed, even though he tried not to, and it was just enough that Wo Fat caught it, because he laughed. "Detective Williams it is," Wo Fat said, striding towards the door.
"Don't you touch him!" Steve screamed after him! "Don't you--"
"Steve." Danny's voice, soft and low, familiar as the hands on both of Steve's arms, keeping him from flailing around.
"Danny?" Steve opened his eyes, blinking at the bedroom. His bedroom, just starting to brighten with predawn light. Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, surprised to realize he was sitting up. "Shit," Steve said into his hand, before flopping backwards onto his pillow.
He opened his eyes after a moment to see Danny studying him. "Bad one this time?"
"Why?"
"Because you were halfway out of bed, yelling."
Fuck. He hadn't reacted that badly in weeks. But then Wo Fat hadn't threatened Danny in his dreams before.
He didn't want to think about what it meant that the dream was morphing like that.
"Sorry," Steve said again. As if he somehow still needed to apologize after at least a dozen nights of waking Danny like this. As if Danny wasn't still sleeping there any night he didn't have Grace for this very reason.
Not that Danny had said as much. Not that Danny had said anything about it. They hadn't talked about it at all. It had just become the new norm, routine for Danny to stay whenever Grace was with Rachel. If he had Grace, then Steve had dinner with them more often than not before going home, and when Steve woke up from a nightmare, there was invariably a text either already waiting, or within a few minutes. And a phone call often followed.
He'd been afraid to ask Danny if he'd put a camera somewhere in the room just to monitor him.
"Hey, Steve, you with me?"
Always that same, soft voice, every night, either in person or over the phone. "Yeah," Steve said, rubbing his face again. "Sorry, just...sorry."
"There are a lot of things you should absolutely apologize for," Danny said, "chief among them how you never let me drive my car, but this is not one of them." When Steve didn't respond, Danny leaned down, his face inches from Steve's. "Got it?"
"Yeah," Steve said. "I got it." He didn't, though. He had no translator for this strange language Danny had been using lately. It was like English, but not--the words were familiar, but the meaning was somehow not quite right.
Danny muttered something, but he seemed satisfied enough to flop back on the bed. Steve glanced at the clock, watching as it turned from 5:25 to 5:26. "I'm not getting back to sleep," he said finally, shoving the sheet off him and getting out of bed.
"You want some breakfast?" Danny said around a yawn.
"No, I'm gonna go for a swim. Get some more sleep. I'll fix something when I come back."
He grabbed his trunks and went downstairs, changing in the downstairs bedroom and grabbing a towel before heading out to the beach. The water was warm, embracing him, washing away the memory of harsher uses for it a little more each time he was out here. This was the ocean that had comforted him after loss throughout the years; he wasn't losing that to a memory.
For a long time it was the only comfort he had.
Now, though...there's Danny. Steve had seen the dark shadows for weeks after Danny had returned from New Jersey. He knew Danny wasn't sleeping through the night now, but the shadows were getting better. How little sleep had he been getting before if this was better?
Was that the reason he stayed without being asked, without discussing it? Because as weird as it probably seemed to anyone on the outside, it didn't feel weird. And Steve remembered the weeks of sleepless nights as he'd grappled with various losses; he was fucking grateful that Danny was there to at least let him sleep some this time.
He just hadn't considered that Danny might be getting some of his own healing from their odd little arrangement.
He should've seen it, should've pushed his way in without asking, the way Danny was doing now. This was Danny--he didn't know how to ask for help any more than Steve did, and he wasn't shy about pushing Steve without being asked. He also didn't complain when Steve did the same--well, he complained, he complained a lot, but he never meant it.
It was part of why they worked.
They knew without asking what each other needed, from sex to a shoulder. Not that they'd had sex, which was just another one of the oddities of this whole thing. But maybe that's how that worked, too, one or the other, anger needing a different outlet than pain.
It was one of those things he didn't want to examine too closely. Why fix what wasn't broken?
He cleared his mind and focused on his strokes, his own mental exercise to go along with the physical, repairing his mind as well as his body from the abuse it took as the sun rose over the ocean.
***
The sun was warm and bright by the time Steve got back to the beach. He dried off as he walked through the grass to the lanai. By the time he was in the dining room, the scent of breakfast drew him into the kitchen.
Danny was at the stove, watching a frying pan like he was auditioning for Iron Chef. Steve draped his towel around his shoulders and leaned against the fridge, watching for a moment before saying, "I thought you were going to get some more sleep."
"I tried," Danny said, looking over his shoulder, "but I couldn't, so I got up. Figured I'd make breakfast when I saw you heading back.
So he'd been awake all this time and watching. He didn't look as if he was exhausted, though. If anything there was a light in his eyes that had only lately started reappearing, set off by the bright morning sunlight and the deep blue of his shirt--one of the ones that had migrated to Steve's closet without discussion. It made sense--Danny was waking up there half the time, why wouldn't he have some clothes that stayed there?
"Have you managed to successfully mangle the eggs yet?" Steve asked, getting a bottle of water out of the fridge.
"Mock me and I will not let you taste my culinary genius, my friend."
Steve laughed, but the truth was that Danny had become a much better cook, and Steve had benefitted greatly from it the past few weeks. Danny might think there was something wrong with him if he admitted it, though, so he kept his mouth shut.
"I see you don't have a comeback for that one," Danny teased.
Steve shrugged as he downed the water. "I'm hungry," he said, tossing the bottle in the recycling bin.
"Here," Danny said, handing Steve a coffee mug.
After one sip, Steve's eyes widened--Danny had broken out the French press and everything. "What's the special occasion?" Steve asked between sips.
"It's breakfast," Danny said. "We get that just for waking up in the morning."
Which sometimes was a feat in itself, just to make it through the night and get out of bed the next day, so Steve supposed that could be a special occasion. He still felt like his English filter--or maybe it was just his Danny filter--was slightly off or something, but they'd been doing just fine not talking about anything.
Besides, he liked seeing Danny looking happy.
"You cook like this every morning," Steve said, "you'll make someone a great wife."
The joke left an odd taste in his mouth, but Danny just laughed. "You're hilarious," he said, backhanding Steve on the arm gently on the way to the fridge. "Go sit down. I'll bring the food."
Steve tried to find something to say in return, but couldn't, so he gave up and did as he was told.
***
Danny cursed the early lunch traffic as he waited to turn onto Beretania. He'd hoped to make it to his house and the dry cleaner's in time to be at HQ before the traffic got annoying, but they'd taken longer at the Kealoha house than planned.
At least his suit would be nice and clean for the wedding tomorrow.
Steve's paranoia over his aunt's fiancé was not exactly unexpected, given the number of family members telling him the truth was pretty low. If he was Steve he'd probably be wearing a tin hat by now. The fact that Doris was still hiding from him didn't help matters--if Steve didn't get some closure on that front soon, he'd be in danger of turning into Jerry.
Not that Danny wasn't doing his best to help. He'd pretty much moved into Steve's part time without asking, because he'd known what was coming, and he'd also known Steve wouldn't ask or tell unless Danny forced it out of him, or was there to see it.
And he was done watching Steve walk around like a zombie for a few months after catastrophes.
Danny felt better doing something for someone he cared about--it was a nice distraction. A different one than the bouts of sex they'd been using for temporary distraction, but one that was more sustainable and long-lasting.
Sex was fleeting.
He pulled into his spot and jogged up the front sidewalk, mulling over the Kealoha case until bright red hair caught his eye. "Deb?" Danny called out to the couple on the steps.
She turned, a smile lighting her face, reminding Danny of her nephew. "Danny!" Deb said, leaning in to give him a hug. "It's so lovely to see you again."
"You, too," Danny said, looking expectantly at Leonard.
"This is my fiancé, Leonard," Deb said. "We're getting married tomorrow--did Steve tell you?"
"Oh yeah, I just took my suit to the cleaners so I'll look nice for it." Danny shook Leonard's hand. "Nice to meet you."
"You, too."
Leonard's handshake was firm, and wow, Steve wasn't kidding about the hands. Smooth as a baby's bottom. "Wow, that's some smooth hands you've got there," Danny said, fishing as delicately as he knew how. "You're gonna have to tell me what kind of lotion you use."
"You'll have to ask the lady on the ship," Leonard said.
"What?"
Deb stepped in. "I insisted we get mani pedis the last day on the ship in preparation for the wedding."
Okay, Danny knew guys like Leonard--his dad had friends that could almost be the guy's clone. And if he sat through a mani pedi, he must be in love. "How sweet," Danny said. "Sounds like the cruise had everything."
He listened to Deb extolling the virtues of the ship as he escorted them through security and to the offices, almost falling all over himself to explain the soft hands to Steve. The guy had enough to worry about, hopefully this would take one thing off his plate.
Steve did look a little relieved at hearing the story, so Danny counted it as a win and went back to focusing on their new suspect. He waited until they were driving out to talk to Tai, Steve deciding to take his truck for once, to ask, "So, feel better about Leonard yet?"
"I don't know, man." The words were slow and halting. "Something still seems off."
Danny took a deep breath. "Maybe nothing's off," he said carefully. "Maybe it's just...."
Steve spared him a glance. "Just what?"
"Nothing." Danny nodded up ahead. "There's the rental place."
***
Tai Gable was a total brain trust, but once Danny met Tai's mother, he could at least see why. But understanding the reason he was the way he was didn't help their case any. Nor did the discussion on the way back to the car.
Steve's phone rang with what Danny hoped was a lead as he got into the car. It became obvious that it as a lead, just not on their case.
It was going to be really hard to break Steve of his borderline paranoia when he kept ending up being right.
Sure enough, the first thing Steve said after hanging up and getting into the car was, "I was right."
"What, when you took off without me at the scooter rental and left me to the mercy of Grover's driving?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "Will you let that go?"
"Grover's driving, Steven. He makes you look like Mario Andretti."
Steve gave him a glare and long-suffering sigh. "That was Jerry on the phone."
"Yeah, I heard. Leonard's a lawyer?"
"Mob lawyer," Steve said, starting the car and peeling off with more speed than was really necessary.
That explained the soft hands. "Who was he with?"
"The Leone family. He got Gino Leone off of three murder charges in ten years."
"Judging from what I heard of the conversation, it wasn't just his silver tongue that did the job?"
Steve gripped the wheel harder as he took a turn faster than Danny's stomach liked. "FBI wire tap has the Leone brothers talking about Leonard destroying a murder weapon."
"Okay. That doesn't mean he did it."
"Danny--"
"No, listen to me for a minute, okay? Two mob guys say on a wire tap that Leonard destroyed the murder weapon. They are not exactly what we would call star witnesses."
Steve rolled his eyes. "What reason would they have for saying it, then?"
"I don't know. Maybe they knew they were being recorded and trying to implicate him instead because he wouldn't do it. Or maybe they're idiots. My point is, just because they said it doesn't make it so."
He could see Steve trying to control his emotions before Steve finally said, "Okay, so then why is he lying to Deb?"
"Because he loves her?"
"And people lying to those they love never ends badly, right?"
Yeah, this was going well. "Look, think about this like a cop, okay?" Danny said. "What's his motive?"
"Motive?"
"Yeah. If he's doing this, he must want something, right? Does your aunt have any money?"
"Not enough that would matter, and she doesn't have a big insurance policy or anything."
"Then why is he doing this? Other than love?"
Steve sighed and watched the road, McGarrett speak for 'I don't have an answer.'
"The guy's dying, Steve. And he wants to marry the woman he loves before he does. People have lied for a lot less."
"Yeah," Steve said after a moment.
"So you gonna tell her?"
Steve glanced at him. "I have a choice?"
There's always a choice, Danny started to say, but he thought about who he was talking to, and realized that no, there really wasn't. Steve wasn't wired for this to be a choice--his parents had seen to that.
***
" Leonard isn't lying to me. I've been lying to you."
The words didn't make sense at first, but once they fell into place, he wasn't even that surprised. Lying did run in his family after all. Though she of all people should know how he felt about lies--the first thing she'd told him was that she didn't know where Doris was. Assuming that was true.
But no, he knew she wouldn't lie about that. She had her limits.
And her disappointments, he realized, as he listened to her talk about the things she'd missed out on. He got it, he did--she had finally found love and she had so little time left to enjoy it, she'd just wanted to avoid the inevitable fight Leonard's past would cause.
He didn't like it, but he got it.
"Steve, the one thing I never gave up on was love," Deb said. "And I guess it never gave up on me, either, because here he is. At long last." Her smile was radiant. "And now, you know, I can leave this earth, knowing that I have experienced the most profound and life-altering thing a person can. I just hope that someday you'll know how wonderful that feels."
She took his hand. "Steve, you're so willing to risk your life. When are you gonna be willing to risk your heart?"
"I did."
"Then where's Catherine?"
He'd been dreading this. He told her the short version of what had happened, and that Catherine was not coming back. She'd been very clear about that, and about Steve's need to move on. He thought about asking Deb what it was about him that made the women in his life choose dangerous jobs in foreign countries over facing him, but decided that might sound a little melodramatic.
And he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
He didn't want the sympathy in her eyes or her voice, either, as she said she was sorry. Didn't need it, in fact. He told her he'd trusted his heart, but the truth was, he hadn't. He'd kept part of it locked away, safe and sound, so it couldn't get hurt. He always did. She hadn't had his whole heart. He wasn't sure anyone ever would.
Maybe he wasn't built for that level of trust.
You trust Danny with everything, the little voice in his head said. Which was true. But that was different. Danny wasn't a risk. Danny was incapable of hurting Steve--he'd proven it time and time again. He'd defied Rachel to stay and help Steve when he was in trouble, then he'd defied her again to keep Grace and himself on the island.
Danny wasn't going to desert him, he knew that like he knew his own name. But that wasn't about love or a leap of romantic faith or something with hearts and flowers.
That was just incontrovertible fact.
***
They said their goodbyes to Travis and Jake, and a slightly more stiff goodbye to the lawyer--Steve still wasn't sure the guy hadn't at least known what Kate had been planning. He thought about ways to prove it all the way to the car, but came up with zero.
"What?" Danny said, as Steve pulled out into traffic.
Steve glanced at him. "What what?"
"That face. What's up?"
Steve sighed. "I just don't get how a mother could love her kids so much, and yet understand them so little. Those kids would've lived in a two bedroom apartment and not complained once if it meant keeping their parents. And she took that away from them for money."
"Most parents are hardwired to protect their children," Danny said slowly. "But that doesn't mean they always make the right decisions. Babies don't come with manuals." He shrugged. "Screwing up doesn't mean they don't love their kids."
Steve studied him for a moment. "I wasn't talking about Doris."
"Did I say you were?" At Steve's look, Danny frowned. "Did Deb have info on her?"
"No. Before I could even ask she told me she didn't know where Doris was." Steve tapped the steering wheel a few times, checking the rear view mirror with more care than it probably needed. "She has to know he's dead," he said finally. "Wouldn't that make it safe for her to come back? She could lie to me about the connection, and I'd never know--at least as far as she knows. Right?"
"Maybe not," Danny said. "She doesn't know what he might have told you. She doesn't know what she'd be facing if she came back."
"She knows she'd be facing a son who wants to see her."
Even to his own ears his voice sounded hoarse. He turned on the radio to cover the sound and changed the subject before Danny could say anything else.
***
Steve was just getting out of the truck when Danny pulled up to the house, despite Danny leaving first. He'd said he had to run an errand, and Steve figured he knew what it was when he saw the dry cleaning bag Danny pulled out of the back seat.
"What's in the bag?" Steve asked.
"My suit for the wedding. Just picked it up--all nice and clean for tomorrow."
"There's plenty of room in the closet upstairs," Steve said as he unlocked the door, "if you want to hang it up."
Of course, several of Danny's shirts were already in the closet, so he knew how much space there was. Steve just wanted to make sure he knew he was welcome to the space he'd already taken up and more.
He didn't know how else to say thank you, since he suspected Danny would have the same view of that that he did of saying I'm sorry.
"Thanks," Danny said, heading up the stairs. "What's for dinner?"
Steve thought about the energy it would take to actually make something. "Pizza?"
Danny looked down from the landing. "No pineapples."
"Have I ever forced you to eat pineapples on pizza? Other than making you try it once, just to say you did?"
"No, but it's you. Who knows what you might decide to do at any time? It's important to reinforce the limits."
Steve shook his head. "Go hang up your suit. I'll order the pizza."
He pulled out his phone, flipping through the contacts. Only when he'd hit dial did it occur to him how good the routine they had felt. Normal, almost.
"JJ Dolan's, how can I help you?"
Steve put the other thoughts out of his head and focused on food.
***
The door opened, and Steve saw Danny get shoved through, Wo Fat right behind him, a gun pointed at Danny's head.
Fuck. He hadn't wanted to pull Danny into this. "Wo Fat, I swear, I will kill you."
Wo Fat just laughed. "And yet I am the one with the gun," he said, shoving Danny to his knees, facing Steve, less than a foot away. "No more games, McGarrett," Wo Fat said. "Where is my father?"
"I told you, I don't know."
"Wrong answer." Wo Fat put the gun to the side of Danny's head. "Where is my father?"
"You kill him, and I will make you die the most painful ways I can possibly imagine."
Wo Fat looked unimpressed. "You have to the count of five. One."
"I swear to you, you will pay!"
"Two. Three."
"Let him go! I don't know where your father is!"
"Four."
"I don't know!"
"Five."
The crack of the gun woke Steve, and he looked around wildly, seeing Danny right beside him, sitting up, whole and unharmed. Steve let out a shaky breath, taking several more before they even started to calm down.
"You okay?" Danny asked after a minute.
Steve nodded, rubbing his face with both hands before looking up at Danny. "I'm okay."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"No," Steve said. "But not talking about it doesn't seem to be helping, so...." Steve sat up, the change in angle allowing him to see more of Danny's face in the moonlight. "The last couple nights it's been Wo Fat trying to get me to tell him where his father is."
"Is it like it happened, or different?"
Steve wondered at the question. "It's different. He...he keeps threatening you," Steve admitted in a low voice. "Trying to use you to get me to tell."
Danny nodded as if that made perfect sense. "After...after Colombia," Danny said, the words halting, "I had a lot of dreams. Still have them, but not as many. Most of them involved Reyes using other people to try to get me to find the money. Grace, my family...you."
"How did you make them stop coming all the time?"
"Time." Danny gave a half shrug. "And they don't seem to really hit when I'm here."
So he really was waking up with his own nightmares on the nights he was texting from home, then. "I can't decide if that makes me feel better or worse about waking you with mine."
Danny's smile flashed in the moonlight for a second. "Come on," he said, dragging Steve back down onto the bed. "We actually have time to catch a little more sleep before morning."
Steve shuffled around, settling in when his arm was pressed against Danny's from shoulder to wrist. The contact helped, almost as if some of the pain was seeping out of him and into Danny. It was easier and more painful than the other times, when he'd soldiered through deaths and loss. He was feeling the pain this time, and it hurt like hell. But the conduit to Danny was like some sort of painkiller, taking it away bit by bit over time.
He might be new to the concept of sharing his pain, but he thought maybe he could get used to it, if this was the result.
I can leave this earth, knowing that I have experienced the most profound and life-altering thing a person can. I just hope that someday you'll know how wonderful that feels.
Deb's words about Leonard floated through his mind, suddenly making more sense. It wasn't the same, this thing with Danny. There were no hearts and flowers, no romance, none of those things entered into it. But Danny had definitely altered his life in ways that Steve hadn't expected, had thought he didn't even want.
And his life was better for it.
***
"Deb looks happy."
Danny's voice sounded a little wistful. Steve watched Deb dancing with Leonard, their cheeks pressed together, and understood why. They looked more than happy. They looked ecstatic. The picture of storybook love, minus the happily ever after, at least long term.
But it didn't seem to bother them.
"Yeah, she does. I hope they get some good time together."
The song ended, and Deb gave Leonard a kiss and headed for Steve and Danny's table. "Sorry," she said, as she sat down. "If I'd been thinking, I would've invited some of the pretty girls who were on our cruise so you fellas would have someone to dance with."
"That's okay," Danny teased, "if I get really desperate I'll just ask Steve." He stood. "I'm going for a drink--would you like one, Deb?"
"Champagne, please?"
Danny nodded and walked off. Steve watched him go, buzzed a little on the combination of alcohol and the nice evening they'd had so far. No cases, no nightmares, just a celebration of family and love.
He turned, frowning at the look on Deb's face. "What's that look?" he asked.
She shook her head, her face smoothing out into a smile. "I was just wondering if you were going to take my advice."
"Huh?"
"Look...Mary told me a little about how you got that new scar," she said, pointing to the scar she'd so carefully covered with makeup so he wouldn't ruin her wedding pictures. "And I know you've had a few other close calls. So I'm here to tell you, kiddo, if you find love, don't fight it. No matter where you find it."
"That's a pretty big if."
"Is it?"
Before he could try to get her meaning out of her, Danny returned, a glass and two bottles in hand. He gave Deb the champagne, and put a Longboard in front of Steve before taking his seat. "We drink too many more of these," Danny said, "and we'll be staying at the hotel tonight."
"I'm fine," Steve said.
"This is your fourth," Danny replied. "Do we need a reminder of the staple gun incident?"
"That was six beers," Steve said. "And besides, I'm not driving a staple gun. I'm not driving anything for a while yet."
He saw the light in Danny's eyes, then, realized Danny was just having fun winding him up in front of his aunt. "And really, do you want to talk about the picture hanging incident?"
"No," Danny said quickly. "No, I do not."
"That's what I thought."
Deb was laughing at them. "The pair of you...."
"What?" Steve asked, because that tone was still there that he couldn't quite figure out.
"Nothing." Deb stood up. "The bride shouldn't sit out more than one song at her own wedding," she said, holding out a hand to Danny. "Care to dance?"
"Absolutely."
Steve watched them go out to the floor, saw Deb lean in and say something that made Danny laugh and look over at the table. He thought about worrying about what she might have said, but he was having too good a night to bother.
If Danny was laughing, it couldn't have been that bad.
***
TBC