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Climbing through a window into a house with an armed suspect and without back-up was generally the exact sort of reckless move one Steve McGarrett would pull without a second thought, and Danny tried not to think about the irony of it all as he gently dropped to the ground. To be fair, it was Steve’s fault – if he hadn’t been stupid enough to let himself get captured (to protect Danny, of course, because that’s the exact brand of protective and nobly self-sacrificing he was) they wouldn’t be in this mess. But he had and had given Danny the most nerve-wracking afternoon he had possibly ever experienced, and now he was probably tied up somewhere and Danny was sneaking around an abandoned home in the middle of nowhere while praying the two of them could escape before the suspect’s posse showed up.
Danny was violently shaken from that train of thought as a man suddenly walked into the room.
“Five-0! Put your- ” Before he could even finish his sentence, Andre Sheffield – the kidnapper himself – pulled a gun from his waistband.
Danny got a shot off first and tried to ignore the tinge of satisfaction he felt watching Sheffield collapse in a heap. Kicking his gun away, Danny stepped over him and continued his search of the house while desperately trying to stay calm and not assume the worst.
Fighting back the panic became tougher and tougher with every second that passed. The house was silent, eerily so, and there wasn’t a trace of Steve anywhere.
The kitchen was one of the last rooms to be cleared, and Danny froze in the doorway.
“Steve!” His heart caught in his throat as he saw his partner sprawled unmoving on the floor.
He dropped hard onto his knees – ignoring the spike of pain as they collided with the hard tile – and rolled Steve onto his back. Danny could barely breathe as he saw the blood coating the right side of his partner’s face. There was a nasty gash looking to be at least a good three inches long stretching from the top of his forehead into his hair. Danny couldn’t tell if it was from a pistol whip or Steve hitting the edge of the counter he was lying next to, but it didn’t really matter. The wound was in desperate need of stitches, there was blood all over Steve’s face, the man certainly had a concussion, and they were quickly running out of time to get the fuck out of the house.
“Steve!” Danny called again, cradling his face with one hand, “Steve, you gotta wake up!”
After a moment Steve’s eyes fluttered open and relief washed over Danny so quickly he felt dizzy with it. The relief was short lived, though, as Steve immediately struck out, shoving Danny off balance as he reached for his rifle. As he fell backwards, Danny was able to slide the gun just far enough behind him that it was out of Steve’s reach.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s me! It’s me babe, it’s me!”
Steve ignored him and tried to scramble for Danny’s gun, but thankfully his balance was off and he stumbled, allowing Danny to grab him (he never thought he’d be glad Steve had a head injury, but Danny wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that the combination of Super SEAL skills and extra height wouldn’t allow Steve to kick his ass in a fair fight).
“Steve, it’s me Danny. Danny!”
Steve’s arm yanked out of his grip and Danny prepared to block an incoming punch, but suddenly Steve froze. His eyes went wide and after a moment he slowly lowered his arm.
“Danno?”
“Yeah babe, it’s Danno. You’ve got a concussion, and we need to get the fuck out of here before reinforcements arrive.”
Steve swayed slightly on his feet as if his body finally got the memo that it was dealing with a significant head injury. Danny put a steadying hand on his bicep and swore under his breath. How did Steve always seem to get them into those sorts of situations?
“I need you to stay on your feet, big guy.” Danny picked up the rifle from the ground and handed Steve his pistol, “We need to get out of here before Sheffield’s crew shows up.”
Steve nodded instinctively and winced, causing his partner to bite back another wave of worry and frustration. Fuck the case and fuck Sheffield’s minions, Steve needed a doctor. Danny wrapped Steve’s arm around his shoulder for stability and ushered them towards the door, moving as quickly as he could without risking both of them face-planting. At least they could just go out the back door like normal people and not have to climb back through a window. It was the little victories in life.
Steve winced again as they successfully made it outdoors, clearly flinching away from the bright Hawaiian sun.
“I know, I know. Just keep your eyes closed and keep walking, alright? We just gotta get to the trees and then we’ll be out of the sun.”
He gave a slight nod and squeezed his eyes shut, keeping his arm firmly around Danny. The sheer display of trust was a kick to the chest, and for the millionth time in the years they had known each other, Danny wished it wasn’t coming hand in hand with risk of death.
Steve trusted him – showed it every day in moments that would seem inconsequential to most – but even after years together he still struggled to let himself be vulnerable, be scared and in pain. Every time he did lower his guard and let Danny in, it made Danny’s chest ache. He wanted to scream at Doris, and John, and Joe and every single other person that made Steve grow up too fast and take care of himself when someone else should have stepped up. He wanted to punch out every single piece of shit that made Steve McGarrett feel unnecessary, unloved. Danny loved him so much it scared him sometimes, and as they finally made it to the cool shade of the trees, he had to indulge himself for a second.
He rested his forehead against Steve’s chest for a moment and listened for the familiar heartbeat. He let the steady thumping reinforce the fact that Steve was alive and there and everything would be fine. Once Danny felt less like he was about to crawl out of his skin, he took a deep breath and looked Steve in the eye.
“We’ve got a mile to go through these woods before we get to the car – think you can make it that far?” He asked.
“I’ll be fi-“
“I swear to God, Steven, if you say you’re fine I’m going to shoot you myself.”
Even covered in blood and concussed, Steve at least had the decency to look chastised and held his free hand up in surrender.
Their trek through the woods was slow going, and by the time Danny spotted his beloved Camaro he was pretty sure his shirt was soaked through with sweat under his vest. Steve wasn’t looking much better; he was a mess of blood and sweat and was starting to lean more and more heavily on Danny’s shoulder.
At least there didn’t seem to be any gun-toting maniacs chasing them through the jungle. Again: it was the little victories in life.
--
Danny was pacing the ER waiting room anxiously after the doctors whisked Steve off for stitches and tests when a voice calling his name snapped him out of his thoughts. He spun around to see the rest of the team hustling over.
“What the hell were you thinking, Williams?!” Lou demanded, “Steve nearly got himself killed so you thought you had to as well?”
He opened his mouth to respond but Tani beat him to the punch.
“How about we yell at Danny later, when we’re not standing in the middle of the ER.” She turned to Danny, “Have you heard anything?”
“They took him back just a few minutes before you got here. Needs stitches on his forehead, then they’re gonna run some test to make sure his stupid, thick skull is fine.”
“Well, it’ll definitely take more than a little blunt force trauma to crack that skull.”
--
The news that Steve had successfully managed to avoid fracturing his skull or getting a brain bleed was a relief, though the doctors opted to keep him overnight for observation. Steve was half-asleep when Danny was allowed in – a combination of pain and nausea medication and sheer exhaustion proving to be a powerful opponent. Danny entered quietly, sitting in the chair next to Steve’s bed and gently grabbing his hand. Steve roused at the contact, turning his head and squinting in the dim light.
“Danno?”
“I’m here, babe.”
“’m sorry.” Steve mumbled as he gave Danny’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“You can make it up to me when you’re not half-conscious in a hospital bed, alright? Right now you just need to rest.”
Steve opened his mouth but Danny shut him up with a glare.
“If you even think about doing anything besides resting I am going to handcuff you to the fucking bed, Steven.”
Steve huffed a quiet laugh.
“Copy that.”
Danny stood and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his forehead that wasn’t covered in bandages.
“I love you.” Steve said quietly.
“I love you too, you big lug. Now go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”