(A/N: This isn't my usual style, but when I got started with the idea it just turned out this way! It's been a while since I wrote anything here, but I hope it's fairly in character and that you enjoy the story.)
Danny's face is the first thing he sees when he comes round, and he knows he's in trouble.
At first, he can't remember what for. Everything feels dislocated and out of focus, like he's in his body but not quite there. He can't feel much, except that everything around him seems to be cotton wool. For a moment he floats, imagining himself wrapped in cotton wool, a whole room full of it, a whole building made of the stuff. He doesn't realise he's nearly drifted off again until there is suddenly someone leaning over him, a woman dressed in blue, and she's probably talking because her lips are moving, but nothing sounds like words.
Steve blinks, and things start to become clearer. There's a tingling in his fingers that tells him the cotton wool sensation was numbness that's beginning to clear away. There's a beeping noise, somewhere, and cutting into it are garbled sounds that slowly become disconnected syllables, and finally meld together into his name.
"Steven. Steven. Can you hear me?"
The woman is a doctor. He realises with such certainty that he feels ridiculous for not noticing before - it's in her scrubs, her voice, the mechanical beeping. He's in a hospital.
Danny has moved closer. His arms are crossed like he's forcing his hands to keep still, and his lips are pressed together. Steve's relieved about that. He's not sure he could handle a rant right now, and it would hardly be fair since he can't really fight back. That's probably not why Danny's restraining himself, though. He looks very pale, his hair is wild and there are smears of dirt on his face that don't quite conceal the darkness under his eyes. But he's there, and whole, so whatever's happened or going to happen Steve doesn't really care.
"Steven!"
He's forgotten about the doctor. He flicks his eyes back to her and tries to move, but his body feels heavy like he's trying to shift with a car on top of him. Nothing really hurts, but that's probably got more to do with the tugging sensation of an IV in his hand than anything else.
When he gives up on moving he tries to speak, but his tongue's so dry it feels like it's swollen to fill his whole mouth. The doctor seems to notice, and when she reaches for a cup of ice he decides, for a wild moment, that the first thing he'll do when he can move is kiss her. Then he thinks about Catherine, and decides he'll tell Danny to kiss the doctor instead.
He's aware that things aren't still making sense, not really. The ice chips help him talk but she only asks if anything hurts, and when he grunts out a question she just tells him it's all OK. He looks to Danny but his partner stays rigidly silent, and it's impossible to tell if he's under the doctor's orders or refusing to talk of his own accord.
Steve wants to ask, he needs to figure everything out, but the world is kind of grey around the edges. The doctor's soft words are fading out again, and it's like he's seeing the world through a camera lens that's gradually losing focus. He's aware of the doctor moving away and for a moment he panics (the beeping cuts through the fog around him because it's suddenly too loud and too fast, and that scares him more) because he thinks Danny's going to go too, but then there's a strong, warm hand gripping his and a voice in his ear, and he can't make out the words but they mean that everything's going to be alright.
The next time he wakes up, Danny's slumped in a chair beside his bed. He looks tired and crumpled, but what Steve notices is that his tie is missing. He spots it a moment later dropped, loosened but still knotted, on the floor. He doesn't stay awake long, this time, but he's smiling when he drifts off again.
He's awake for good, the time after that. The haze is wearing off as his meds are weaned down slightly, and he feels stiff and sore but it's better than the vague confusion of not feeling anything. Danny's still there, when he wakes up, still in the same messed up clothes even though the clock on the far wall tells Steve that he's been there ten hours, at least. He doesn't mention it, though, because they never do.
He just listens to everything the doctor tells him, drinking in the details of his condition. A bullet wound to the leg. He hears words like blood loss and physiotherapy, but the one that echoes in his mind is lucky. That, he knows. Something like this could have had so much more of a permanent impact; he should be up and about in weeks, and that is lucky.
It's not just that, though. He remembers now, and he thinks he understands the reason for the furtive way Danny is always right by his bed, and the haunted look in his eyes. Even when he was asleep he didn't look like he was resting, and Steve gets it now. It had been closer than usual, this time.
When the doctor's gone, and it's just him and Danny, he asks about the case. Danny throws his hands in the air and for a minute Steve thinks he won't tell him anything, but his partner caves faster than he expects. The case is wrapped, Danny says. They got the guys. When Steve had started to improve he'd sent Kono and Chin back to the office to tie up the loose ends, but they'll be back soon. Everything's fine. It's only Steve that's causing them problems.
Danny says it with an expression that's almost a smile, but there's not much humour behind it.
"What's up, Danno?" The words are a little hoarse, because like his whole body his mouth still feels kind of numb - but he can move enough to prop himself up in bed, and he's willing to take victories where he can get them for now.
"What's up?" Danny repeats the words like they're red hot, and he can't get them out of his mouth fast enough. "You have got to be kidding me. How can you ask what's up when you're lying in a hospital bed, after what you did?"
Steve looks away. He knows why Danny's mad - more than mad, he's practically livid, but he's actually holding it in better than usual. It's simmering away beneath the surface, though, and Steve's got no way to escape the path of the eruption.
Yeah, he knows. He's remembered the whole thing - he remembers thinking they'd found all the perps, that the area was clear, and beginning to relax when he saw the slightest reflection in the distance and knew, with immediate instinct, what they'd missed and what was going to happen, and the danger Danny was in. He remembers his decision, though it hadn't really been a decision at all, because saving this life was more important, so much more important, than continuing his own.
"You can't just do things like that, Steve! That isn't how this works, you don't get to make decisions like that! We are partners, and that means we have to work together. It doesn't mean you get to leap into super SEAL mode whenever you feel like it like you're the only one who can fix everything!"
Steve schools his face into something that's not quite repentance, but that hopefully doesn't give away what he's thinking. All he can think, really, while Danny rants, is how it's the best thing in the world that his partner is standing there shouting at him. He doesn't always realise how valuable that is.
"And Grace insisted on coming to visit you, of course, like she's not had to do that before! If I have to tell her one more time that you've got yourself into some ridiculous situation like this..."
Grace's name wakens Steve's attention like nothing else, and as Danny trails off to gesture wildly with his hands, as though words have finally failed to express the magnitude of what he's thinking, Steve takes the opportunity to interject.
"Grace is coming?"
Danny's face seems to soften, as if in repeating his daughter's name back to him Steve has made him forget to be angry. "Yeah. She should be here soon, actually."
And it's not long before she arrives, pulling Rachel along behind her, and as soon as she's in the room Grace flings herself to the bed. Danny has to remind her to be careful before she leaps on Steve, so she slows down at the last moment to give him a very gentle hug. Steve privately thinks that a bear hug would have been worth it, but there's still something stony about Danny's face so he doesn't say it aloud.
They stay for a while, Grace filling the room with eager chatter and even coaxing a smile or two from her father. If he can in any way call Danny and his daughter his own family, Steve thinks as laughter fills the hospital room, it's the best thing he could ever have imagined.
He tells Danny he's sorry, later, even though it was himself he got shot this time. But he doesn't mean it. He could never regret risking his life to save Danny's, even if risk had become loss. And if Danny could see the look on his own face when Grace jumps into his arms, with a beaming smile and flying hair, he would understand why Steve will never regret what he's done, and why he will do it again in a heartbeat if he has to.