Guided Missile

H50

Characters: Steve, Danny,

Rating: gen

Missing scene ep 2.01

Summary: Steve is primed and targeted and he's not stopping until he's hit that target or crashed and burned.

A/N 1) This is my first foray into this fandom but I suspect there may be more

A/N 2) I watched this whole episode cringing because McGarrett's running round with a penetrating wound in his gut. And hey, hello, in the real world you just can't get away with that. A clean bandage isn't going to fix it. So this is my attempt to make things more real.

A/N 3) Um, I tried to write something porny, I really did. It just didn't work. I'll have to save that for another day.

A screwdriver in the gut had potential for all sorts of problems, but so far it seemed that Steve had avoided the worst of them. His luck might be about to run out. He had to give Hesse his due; he'd delivered what he'd promised (and what Steve had never asked for), a non-lethal injury and a way for Steve to escape.

Steve was doing all right, with a lot of thanks to Max Bergman. Max had done a great job, especially when you considered that his usual clients weren't breathing. Sadly he didn't have any heavy duty painkillers, not something needed in his line of work. He had however had antibiotics, well a few. Six tablets of some broad spectrum somethings, left over Steve gathered, from a boil on Max's buttocks. Steve couldn't afford to be picky.

Trouble was he was pretty sure they weren't doing the trick anymore. He felt shivery, just slightly off but he didn't have time to deal with it now.

The semi-rigid inflatable roared across the waves, gaining on Wo Fat's boat and he rode the adrenaline. Soon, they'd have him soon, and Steve was fine. Not being a convicted felon anymore helped. He was a SEAL, he'd been trained to cope and to not give up until the job was done. He was sore but he was functioning. He could ignore the shaky feeling a bit longer. He'd rested up at Max's and sat quiet at Kamekona's. He could manage whatever came next.

Except that he fucked up boarding the boat. He hit the railing low in his abdomen, hitting it hard. Pain nearly dropped him and it was just fortunate that his trajectory carried him back onto his feet. He was proud though that he didn't show it on his face, because you didn't let the enemy know you had a weakness. Ever. Slowing down hadn't been an option, not then.

But very shortly afterwards the bad guys were all rounded up or dead, the money was all here and Wo Fat wasn't. And like he was a puppet and someone had cut the strings all the strength left his limbs.

Wo Fat wasn't here.

Steve eased himself onto the fancy white sofa. Fuck it. They were stuck on Wo Fat's fucking rich man's yacht and even at top speed it was at least two hours back to Honolulu. Wo Fat wasn't far away but he would be by the time they got back. They needed a helicopter, to get back to land to get on his tail. He couldn't trust the HPD, or even Joe and Kono to do it. Frustration was killing him. They'd got so close. He'd kept himself going with the thought of finally having Wo Fat, finally having some closure, levering some answers out of him, just fucking having the bastard and knowing that he was the one on top, this time around he, Steve McGarrett was the winner. The sudden release in tension nearly dropped him. His injury and the stress of the last few weeks left him suddenly exhausted.

He screwed up his face and gave in to a moan of pain. He was alone. Danny and Chin were tidying up. One of them too had to be actually piloting the boat. Steve didn't trust either of them to bring a vessel this size into the marina so he needed to be functioning when they got back. He rubbed his hand over his face. He could make it that long. In the meantime though, he had about two hours down time. He could rest a while. He had to bite back a cry of pain as he carefully pulled his feet up onto the sofa, lay down.

'Ohhhh.' He didn't bother hiding his relief. Lying down felt good and Steve gave into it for a minute, doubling over, pressing his hand against the dressings, trying not to gasp at how badly that hurt.

The dressing was wet.

Now he had nothing to do, no running, no chasing, he finally registered that the pain was actually really bad and had been getting worse. The shivery, faint feeling showed that his temperature wasn't getting any better either. It wasn't really surprising. He was going to have to do something about that soon. Getting treatment would take time he didn't want to spare. In the meantime he couldn't blow up the boat but he could cause damage to something Wo Fat obviously liked a lot. He could ooze onto his furniture.

He gave a pained giggle and pressed his face into the soft leather of the cushions. The seat cushion was cool and soft against his overheated skin. He was woozy, suddenly scared to let himself rest, scared he wouldn't be able to wake up.

Chin found him lying there. Swore.

Danny skidded in a minute later. Started a tirade, bit it back. Steve watched him loom over the sofa, could see the fright that he rapidly masked as he knelt on the floor. 'Hey babe.' He pressed the back of his hand to Steve's cheek, then his forehead. Steve bit back a sob at the tenderness of the touch. 'It's caught up with you then, yeah?' He gave Steve's knees a little push. 'Think you can unbend for me a bit buddy?'

Steve worked really hard to relax enough to do that.

'Good, that's good.' Danny reached down and carefully lifted the waist band of Steve's pants away from the dressing; gently put it back. 'Had enough of being Superman yet?' It was a rhetorical question. 'There's an ambulance going to be waiting for us at the dock. You're going in it and I will be coming with you. Because there will be no more shit from you.' He poked Steve's shoulder. 'I am not giving you the chance to jump out of an ambulance again. You will be going to the hospital and you will be having whatever treatment the doctors say you need.' He gave another poke. 'Do you hear me Steven?'

Chin appeared and placed a blanket over him, a pristine white one. He fussed around, tucking the blanket in and making soothing noises. Steve found that very disturbing.

So who was at the helm? This thing might have an auto pilot but did Chin know how to set it? Steve realised he was really sick because somehow it was far too much effort to ask. It seemed to take tremendous effort just to breathe. It was incredible how fast he'd gone from functioning to completely not. From lying down for a bit of a rest to rigid pretzel shaped with pain. It was frightening.

'You know,' Danny huffed, settling down on the floor, his back against the sofa. 'This, I'm a SEAL, I'm trained to withstand pain. It's all bullshit. You're not bullet proof. You're not,' he crashed back against the sofa making Steve jump, 'fucking screwdriver proof, and how I wish I'd never had to say that sentence to you. And you know what McGarrett? You are NOT any more PROOF against bacteria than the next guy. Jesus Steve,' he twisted to face him, 'you might die. What if,' he waved his arms around, lamely pointing at Steve's body, 'you end up shitting into a colostomy bag on your belly for the rest of your life because your gut's gone gangrenous?'

Steve shuddered. He wanted to tell Danny to shut up but the words wouldn't come out. He was terrified, suddenly that Danny was right. He must have made some sound because next thing Danny had an arm around him and he grabbed for Danny's hand, held on tight as pain flared through his belly. He jerked, pulling his knees up, trying to ease the ache.

'Shhhhh.' Danny stroked his free hand over his back. 'It's all right. We got ya. We'll see you through. You know, we talked about it.' Danny reached up awkwardly with his free hand, his other hand still in Steve's. Took something from Chin. 'Shhhhh, babe, it's all right.' He squeezed his hand back, made no attempt to remove it. He wiped Steve's face a bit awkwardly, wrong handed, with a cool cloth, ran it across forehead, around to the back of his neck. Steve sighed, shivering at the touch.

'Yeah,' Danny said, keeping up the soothing movements with the cloth. 'You see, you were running around with a penetrating belly wound and we had to decide what to do about it. Max and I, we were all for tying you down and getting you fixed up. Max was pretty insistent about it. He gave us a pretty graphic run down of what might happen if you didn't get seen to properly.'

The cloth paused against his cheek. He could feel Danny's breath, soft on his face. 'Steve. You there babe?'

Steve cracked his eyes open, met Danny's concerned blue gaze. 'That's good babe, stay with me yeah?' Steve blinked, his vision fuzzy with tears.

'So,' the cloth moved again, round his neck. 'I was all for tying you down, handcuffs. Whatever it took.' Steve could see it too. He realised he was shivering, suddenly cold to his core. 'You'll note we didn't,' Danny continued his story. 'Your mate Joe White talked us out of it. He said,' Danny gave him a sudden poke to his shoulder.

'Hey.'

'Good.' Danny rubbed over the spot, soothing. 'Try to stay awake can you. I'm talking here.'

'What did…?'

'What did Joe say? I'm glad you asked.' Danny went back to wiping his face, his neck, his hair. 'Joe said we could do that, but you'd never forgive us.' Danny huffed out a breath. 'He said, that right then you were like a guided missile. You were set on your course and you wouldn't stop until you hit your target or you,' he paused for a minute, 'or, you crashed and burned.' He swapped the cloth for the back of his hand, resting it on Steve's cheek. 'I think we can say that's what's just happened here. So,' there was a catch in Danny's voice, 'we decided to let you run and be ready to pick you up when you fell.' His grip on Steve's hand tightened and he shuffled closer, as close as he could get to a hug with the awkward position. Danny was quiet for a few minutes and that in itself was concerning. It didn't last though. Talking was Danny's default condition.

'It's been amazing to watch. You're a piece of work, you know that. Not even a flinch when the HPD ordered you to your knees, cuffed you. I couldn't believe it. That fucking SEAL training… Amazing. Are you sure you're not a robot? Terminator McGarrett. Yeah that's it.'

'Daanny,' he grit out.

'How to prove you're not? Oh I know,' his voice rose, 'You're bleeding all over the fucking couch.'

Steve tried to raise himself up, to argue back. He barely moved but a grey wave of pain broke over him. 'Hurts.'

'Yeah babe, I know.'

There was a helicopter back to shore after all because Danny and Chin decided two hours was way too long. Steve was vaguely aware of Danny strong-arming the medevac medic who just wanted to pick Steve up and go. Danny kept hold of Steve's hand all the way to the hospital.

H50 – H50 – H50