Summary: Danny is deeply concerned about McGarrett's overexertion on his first full week back to work, so he organizes a weekend getaway for the two of them... but will it go as planned? ((McDanno whump/bromance and H/C.))
Author's Notes: Neither Hawaii Five-0 nor its characters belong to me, and I do not own the rights to them (sadly). ;) I just like playing with them. ;) ...All ideas belong to Angel Estrada, so please don't plagerize! ...Oh yeah, and this is completely un-beta'd. :) ***This fic is slightly out of character for McGarrett. I feel that his history would have a major impact on his mental state, especially the most recent event (Refer to the S6 finale!), so I'm writing what I'd expect from someone who's experienced such trauma, but know won't be seen on the show. Feedback (As well as Con-Crit) is very much welcomed. :) Enjoy!***
It was Friday afternoon. Their first week back had been pretty demanding, and McGarrett's appearance made it evident that he just wasn't ready to be back at work yet.
Since Rachel had the kids for the weekend, Danny had excitedly booked a weekend for them out of town at a peaceful resort, and he was anxious to get away and relax... Doing it in a hospital bed or at home just wasn't cutting it. He knew Steve could use it more than either of them... but the trick was actually getting his partner to slow down and rest.
Steve was in his office, looking pretty run-down, which was to be expected since the man overexerted himself all week, and Danny's knuckles rapped on the door frame.
"You look like hell," Danny commented, deeply concerned as he noted Steve's ghostly white face and dark, sunken in eyes.
"I'm fine, Danny. What do you need?" McGarrett's tone of voice was one of annoyance and desperately needing rest, and Danny knew that he wasn't 'fine,' but he let McGarrett think he believed him.
"You, my friend, need to pack a bag."
McGarrett looked up in confusion as Danny continued.
"Rachel has the kids, and I'm treating you to a weekend away from... this."
McGarrett shook his head.
"I'm leaving here and going home."
"Yes," Danny began once more, "I figured you would... because, clearly, Steven, you cannot pack a bag here, as you do not have the necessities to do so."
Now, McGarrett was really becoming annoyed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as his patience with his partner was waning.
"Come on, babe," Danny teased, "it'll be fun!"
McGarrett's brow furrowed as he studied Danny.
"Since when is your idea of fun spending time with me?"
Danny smirked, "since I gave you half of my liver and want to make sure you don't destroy it."
McGarrett huffed and rolled his eyes.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Danny? No one forced you to give me your liver!"
"That is correct, Steven, but had I not given you my liver, we would not even be having this discussion right now, because you would be dead!"
If real life mimicked old cartoons, one would physically be able to see the smoke that was emanating from McGarrett's ears right now.
Finally changing the subject back to the original reason for Danny's visit to the Commander's office, he started talking about their weekend getaway once more.
"Your friend, Joe White, kindly got in touch with some acquaintances, and the plane is leaving in an hour."
"You talked to Joe White?"
Danny momentarily looked away before responding.
"I'm pretty sure I didn't stutter, so, yes, that's what I said. I talked to Joe White."
McGarrett stood up from his desk, groaning inwardly, before closing his eyes as he placed a hand on his head for a few seconds, then threw his arms out in question.
"What right did you have to get in contact with him, Danny?"
Danny ignored his friend's eruption.
"So, are you coming or not? Because I really don't want to have to ask Max or Jerry to be my plus one for the next two days."
McGarrett rubbed his head and exhaled heavily.
"Fine" was his only response.
"Good," Danny answered, satisfied. "For once, I'm driving. You're not in any condition to be behind the wheel."
...And for once, McGarrett didn't argue.
Danny led him out of The Palace, and to the Camaro, then headed to Steve's house so that McGarrett could grab what he needed... which didn't take very long. He packed light... and Danny's belongings were already in the trunk of his car.
McGarrett hadn't even seen a plane- let alone been in one- since the attack. As they approached the hangar, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling a sense of panic. It didn't take long for Danny to notice.
"You alright?" Danny questioned curiously.
McGarrett nodded as he looked out the passenger window, swallowing hard at the rising bile in the back of his throat, and Danny focused back on the road.
Five-0's fearless leader rested his head on the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes. He always enjoyed getting away, but right now, he just wanted to be home in bed... and he was silently cursing his partner for not allowing that to happen.
They pulled in, parking, and Joe was waiting outside the hangar, welcoming them with a glowing smile as they approached with their luggage.
"Good to see you on your feet, Commander," Joe smiled as they inched closer to him.
"I'd rather be off of them right now, but my partner here thinks that this is a great idea."
Joe smiled. He knew Steve well enough to understand his viewpoints on things, but he had to agree with the smaller man on this one.
"I think it'd be good for you."
McGarrett rolled his eyes and followed his friend into the hangar. He stopped dead in his tracks when they entered and he spotted the plane. It was almost identical to the last one they'd been in... that ultimately almost ended his life.
He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, but the increasing nausea he was experiencing made that nearly impossible.
"You boys ready to take off?"
McGarrett's face was extremely pale, and beads of sweat danced on his forehead.
Danny happily looked at Steve, awaiting his answer, before he realized that his partner wasn't okay.
"Steve?"
"Yeah..." McGarrett cleared his throat before setting his backpack on the ground. "I'm just gonna hit the head really quick."
He took off, and Danny and Joe exchanged worried glances. This was completely out of character for McGarrett, but he obviously needed more time to process what had happened.
McGarrett pushed the bathroom door open and quickly found himself making friends with the cold, white porcelain embedded in the floor of one of the stalls. It didn't take long for Danny to follow him in, concerned and curious. He heard the revolting sound of retching as he opened the door, and his heart sunk. This wasn't normal for McGarrett.
A few minutes later, Steve finally expunged himself from the stall, not noticing Danny as he quickly headed for the sink, rinsing his mouth. He wasn't there very long before another bout of nausea hit him, and he was back in the stall, heaving.
Another few minutes passed, and he finally felt well enough to come back out. He cleared his throat and spotted his partner this time. Danny's expression was filled with nothing but concern, and McGarrett read him like a book, knowing the next thing that would come out of Danny's mouth.
"I'm fine."
Danny's brow raised and he shook his head.
"You're fine? You're white as a ghost and just puked your guts out for the last ten minutes, and you think that's fine?"
"Side effect of the meds," McGarrett retorted as if nothing had even happened, "and it wasn't ten minutes."
"Okay," Danny began, "do you really think I'm that stupid, Steven? You've been on these same meds for- how long now?- and you're just now having side effects?" He paused for effect before continuing. "What's going on with you, huh?"
McGarrett dipped his head down, splashing cool water on his face and letting it trickle down into the basin like molasses as he gripped the sink white-knuckled, physically shaking. He swallowed hard and blew out a breath before grabbing some paper towels to dry off. His body was expunged of all forms of energy, and he felt like he was going to collapse from exhaustion at any moment, but he fought through it, not wanting his weaknesses to be illuminated to Danny.
"I told you I get carsick when I don't drive. Are we flying or what?"
Truth be told, as passionate as he was about flying, McGarrett was dreading being up in the air right now. His stomach did somersaults as he led Danny out of the bathroom, and Joe was still standing by. He plastered an artificial smile on his face.
"Bad piece of fish for lunch. I'm good," he told Joe, hoping the man wouldn't question him any further, even though he looked like death. "Let's get this thing off the ground!"
Danny shook his head with a heavy, annoyed sigh, as he followed closely behind Steve, and he locked eyes with Joe as Steve mustered up the courage to finally step onto the plane.
McGarrett's heart raced as he did so, but he was on it, and there was no turning back now.
The way the plane was set up, it was almost like an in-flight tourbus. It was very homey and comfortable, and lucky for McGarrett, there was a lone seat in the back, just waiting for him to take residence. A tiny smile appeared on his face as he sunk into it, and Danny took the seat diagonally from him.
"I don't believe a word of what you said," Danny commented as Joe and his co-pilot, the plane's owner, were getting ready for takeoff.
"I'm fine, Danny," Steve replied as he closed his eyes in a wishful attempt to make Danny disappear.
Danny ran a hand through his hair.
"There it is."
"There what is?" Steve questioned.
"The F-word. You said it again. That's like, what, the tenth time today?"
McGarrett rubbed his face and buckled up as Joe started the engine.
"Can you just... not talk?" McGarrett asked as his head began to throb, hopeful, but doubtful.
Danny actually let it go for the time-being, seeing just how bad his partner was feeling. He stood up and headed towards the front of the plane, peeking through the curtain of the cockpit.
"We're good to go," Danny spoke quietly. "It's going to be tough. You know Steve. He's not going down without a fight."