Title: Left in the Cold
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: This was inspired by the prompt "snow" from hawaii_5_0_100. Actually, moogsthewriter gave me the notion of a plot bunny and even though this didn't see that particular bunny through to its full fruition, she still gets some credit for motivating this. Beta'ed by the ever-enthusiastic geminigrl11. I tweaked when she was done, so mistakes are mine.
Summary: It doesn't snow in Hawaii, but flu season still makes the rounds.
-o-
It doesn't snow in Hawaii.
It doesn't get cold, there's no such thing as snowplows, and when he mentions sledding, Kono looks confused.
Danny misses snow. He misses waking up early to shovel and he misses making snowmen with Grace. He misses snow on the trees and slush in the streets, caked to his wheels.
But Danny doesn't miss going stir crazy when the entire city is bustled down. He doesn't miss scraping ice off his car with numb fingers. And he doesn't miss the sniffling and sneezing as everyone in the city tries to infect him with germs.
It figures: it doesn't snow in Hawaii, but flu season still makes the rounds. When Danny wakes up with a funky throat, he almost doesn't think it's possible. Because who can get sick when it's 80 degrees and sunny?
The next morning, when he wakes up with a hacking cough and snot draining out his nose, he learns the answer: him.
He trudges through the day. Kono makes him coffee; Chin keeps his distance. Steve pauses in his fanatical pursuits long enough to ask how he's feeling.
"Your island got me sick," Danny moans.
Steve's brow furrows. "You didn't get sick in Jersey?"
Danny hacks, blowing his nose. "I'm not in Jersey, I'm here, in this hellhole, and it got me sick."
Steve knows not to argue.
The next morning, Danny can't get out of bed. His head throbs; he's breathing through cotton. When he calls in, his voice is so garbled that Steve barely recognizes him.
Danny scrounges to find medicine, swallowing it dry to circumvent the extra two feet to his kitchen. He crashes back on his pillow to sleep, but almost drowns in his snot instead. Dragging the extra pillows to him, he props himself up to near-comical proportions and lays slack-jawed, facing the ceiling.
When he wakes, he hears a sound outside, and if he had the energy, he'd pull his gun. As it is, he barely has time to make sure he's fully covered.
There are voices in the other room, and even with his muddled brain, Danny begins to sort them.
"You sure he won't mind?" Kono asks.
"You didn't hear him on the phone," Steve says.
"Yeah, but he didn't even stir when we came in," Chin says. "Did you find the soup?"
"And some tea," Kono says.
"Get them both ready," Steve says. "I've brought some Vicks."
Part of Danny wants to protest, tell them he's grown man, not a sick toddler, that he really can't be that sick because there's no snow in Hawaii. But he's tired and his head hurts and he can't breathe and soup doesn't sound bad.
Danny closes his eyes again, and even if he wants to rant, he lets himself drift. Because, okay, there's no snow in Hawaii, but Danny supposes that means he never has to be left in the cold. And Danny may never love Hawaii, but that much doesn't seem so bad.