Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators
Can be read as established, pre-slash, friendship, whatever.
A/N: So this whole thing is just an excuse to get to the last bit. It was inspired by my recent bout of bronchitis where the cough syrup they gave me, I swear to god, was pineapple flavored, and I thought of Danny. I know I've done Danny Gets Bronchitis before (Sicker than You), but I couldn't resist. Hopefully, it isn't too similar.
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"Book 'em, Danno."
Instead of the flurry of activity Steve McGarrett was expecting from his partner, Danny Williams, his command was met with a bout of coughing. Steve pulled enough of his attention off the drug dealer he was holding at gunpoint to glance at Danny. "You okay there?"
"Yeah," cough, cough, "I'm fine."
Steve frowned. Danny certainly didn't sound fine. Come to think of it, he'd been coughing off and on all morning. Steve wondered how long it had been going on; he hadn't been with Danny all weekend, so the SEAL didn't know if it started then or if it was new today. He'd have to find out after they took care of the drug dealer. "Are you sure? I can get Chin or Kono to do it." Chin Ho Kelly and Kono Kalakaua, along with Lou Grover, were the other members of their team.
Danny waved off Steve's concern. "No, I'm fine." Another bout of coughing belied Danny's words, but he rode it out and approached the perp, cuffing him. "You have the right-" cough, cough-"to remain-" cough, cough, cough-"silent. Anything you say-" the rest of the spiel was lost as Danny doubled over coughing.
Now Steve was really worried. That didn't sound good at all. He waited 20 seconds, 30, 45. When it got close to the minute mark and Danny was still coughing, Steve knew he had to do something. He holstered his gun and waved Kono over.
"What's up, boss?"
"Can you take over here?" Steve said. "I need to get Danny to the doctor."
Kono looked at their teammate, still coughing. "He doesn't sound good. You take care of him. I'll finish here."
"I intend to," Steve said. He walked over to Danny. "Okay, buddy, let's get you to the doctor."
Danny waved him off. ". . . fine," he gasped.
"I don't think so." Steve checked his watch. "You're at three minutes and counting. If it doesn't let up soon, I'm not taking you to the doctor, I'm taking you to the hospital."
Danny shook his head vehemently, or at least tried to. The motion knocked him off balance, and he tipped forward.
Steve caught him. "Easy, there. Think you can make it to the car?"
Danny nodded, much more carefully this time. The two men slowly made their way to the Camaro, stopping every few feet for Danny to catch his breath. Steve was trying not to panic, but it was hard. Danny was gasping for breath between coughs. He still seemed to be getting enough oxygen—he wasn't turning blue, at least—but the coughing wasn't letting up. The worst part was there wasn't anything Steve could do. He was a man of action. Sitting idly by while someone he loved coughed up a lung was not something he dealt with well.
Danny was still coughing when Steve got him settled in the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt. Steve made his decision. "We're going to the hospital."
"Steve, no," Danny managed.
Steve ignored Danny's protests and headed to the hospital. Steve's foot was heavy on the accelerator, and it took all he had not to turn on the sirens. The fact that Danny didn't have the air to go off on the rant about Steve's driving Steve knew he would normally be subjected to was telling in itself. Rationally, Steve knew Danny probably wasn't in immediate life-threatening danger, but Steve was rarely rational when it came to Danny.
Ten minutes later when they pulled up at the emergency room, Danny's cough hadn't stopped. Steve pulled up at the entrance and leaped out, leaving the door hanging open. He raced to get a wheelchair, maneuvering it up against the passenger door for Danny to get in.
"I can walk," Danny protested, with difficulty.
"Seriously? You barely made it to the car. Just get in," Steve ordered.
Danny looked like he was going to protest further, but he gave in and sank into the chair. Steve watched his partner deflate, sinking into the chair and closing his eyes before they flew open again with another bout of coughing.
Steve pushed Danny to the check-in window. He flashed his badge at the receptionist, hoping it would bump them up the line. Okay, maybe he was slightly abusing his authority, but he was worried, dammit. "Commander McGarrett, Five-0. My partner's having trouble breathing."
"ID, please." Steve waved his badge again before realizing she probably meant Danny's driver's license. Danny, even incapacitated, seemed to be functioning better than Steve and already had it out.
The woman took it and entered in the information. "Have a seat. Someone will be right with you."
Steve got Danny settled and went to sit himself before he remembered something. "Shit, the car. I need to move it. Will you be okay until I get back?"
Danny motioned for him to go. "I'll be fine."
Steve was dubious, but he knew he probably wouldn't get away with leaving the car there unless it was truly life or death. When he got back, Danny wasn't in the waiting room. Fear rose in Steve. What if something had happened? What if Danny had passed out, or worse? Steve didn't think he could bear that. He rushed to the window. "Danny Williams. Where is he?"
"They just took him back," the receptionist said. "I'll buzz you in."
Heart in his throat, Steve entered the examination area. He frantically looked around for his partner. He followed the coughing to a cubicle where Danny was talking to a triage nurse.
"Danny! You scared me!" Steve said.
"I'm fine."
No, he definitely wasn't fine—he was still coughing—but at least he was alive and conscious, and that counted for something.
"Have a seat, Commander," the nurse said. "Detective Williams was just answering some questions. Now, how long has this been going on?"
Another glance at his watch gave Steve the answer. "Almost 20 minutes."
"And when did your cough start initially?"
"Friday," Danny replied.
Steve cursed to himself. He should have noticed Danny was off Friday. Granted, Steve had been in meetings all day, and Danny had been gone when Steve was finished, but that alone should have tipped him off. Danny usually waited for Steve, and they hung out, grabbed some beers, watched TV, whatever. They hadn't Friday, but Steve had chalked it up to the fact that the SEAL was going fishing with Lou the next morning. He figured Danny just didn't want to keep him up late when he had to get up before dawn. He should have known better.
Steve pictured Danny alone and miserable all weekend. The SEAL should have checked on his partner. He knew Danny didn't have his two kids, and usually, they'd hang out, but Steve didn't get back until late Saturday, and Sunday he had caught up on chores around the house. Normally, Danny came over anyway and "helped" (read: bothered) Steve while he worked, but the blond hadn't come by. Steve figured he just had chores of his own. Despite what people thought, they weren't joined at the hip. Dammit, he should have known better. Maybe then they wouldn't be here.
A doctor came up before the nurse had even finished entering Danny's data. He took a quick glance at the notes the nurse handed him and ushered Danny to a room. He listened to Danny's heart and lungs. Every time the doctor ordered him to take a deep breath, Danny just coughed harder. Steve's heart twisted every time. He wished there was something he could do, but all he could do was stand by and let the doctor do his job.
"Well, Detective Williams," the doctor said, "sounds like you have a raging case of bronchitis. I'm going to order some chest x-rays and blood work to make sure nothing else is going on. In the meantime, we'll give you a breathing treatment to see if we can get those airways open."
Danny nodded, and the vise around Steve's heart eased up a tiny bit. Bronchitis was bad, but it was treatable, and, hopefully, the breathing treatment would do its job.
A nurse wheeled Danny off. Steve moved to follow, but she stopped him. "You'll have to wait in the waiting room, sir."
Steve wanted to snarl at her, wanted to say his place was by Danny's side, but a look from Danny stopped him. "Don't be a Neanderthal, Steven," it clearly said, even though the words weren't spoken.
Steve reluctantly went back to the waiting room. He made a quick call to Kono to update the team and find out what was up with their perp, but spent the rest of the time impatiently bouncing his knee, too wound up to read or play on his phone. He wasn't sure how long he sat there before Danny was wheeled out. Steve was relieved to see Danny wasn't coughing anymore.
"How you doing, buddy?" Steve asked, anxiously. He searched Danny's face. The blond was pale, but his breathing seemed even and steady.
"Better," Danny replied. "I just have to wait for my test results."
Steve gave a sigh of relief. "Good. You scared me, buddy."
"I scared me, too," Danny admitted. Steve knew it must have been bad for Danny to admit that. Thank goodness he was better now.
Fortunately, it wasn't long before Danny was called back to get his test results. "It's bronchitis," the doctor confirmed. "Chest x-rays are good, though, and there's nothing else out of the ordinary in the blood work. I'm prescribing an antibiotic and an inhaled steroid plus a rescue inhaler for acute episodes like this one. I'm also prescribing pearls for cough for the day time and cough syrup with codeine to help you sleep."
Steve gathered up the prescriptions. "I'll make sure he follows directions."
"Steve, really, I can take care of myself," Danny protested.
"No, clearly, you can't, or we wouldn't be here," Steve retorted. He took a deep breath. "Please, just let me do this for you, okay?" Steve wasn't going to fail Danny again. Danny nodded.
Steve drove to Danny's house and got him settled. The SEAL helped his partner undress, protesting all the while that he could do it himself, and lifted the covers for him. "In you go. You get some rest while I get your prescriptions."
Danny nodded and closed his eyes. He was mostly out before Steve got out the door.
Steve returned a little later to find Danny sitting up coughing again, though it didn't seem to be as bad as before. "You okay?" the SEAL asked, anxiously.
"Yeah, I think so," Danny said. "It'll pass in a minute."
Steve was dubious, but he let it go. "I'll get you some cough syrup."
"No, Steve, that's for night, to help me sleep. The pearls will be fine."
Steve leveled his gaze at Danny. "Danny, when was the last time you slept?"
"I slept last night."
Steve was pretty sure he wasn't getting the whole story. "How long?"
"About five hours."
"All at once?"
Danny looked sheepish. "Okay, it might have just been an hour at a time, and I might have had to sleep sitting up, but it's not like I haven't gotten less sleep. I do it all the time for cases."
"Yes, but you're usually not sick," Steve shot back. "You're taking the syrup, and that's final."
Danny sighed but gave in. "Fine." Steve held out the spoon. Danny dutifully swallowed the syrup, then made a face, nearly spitting it out.
"That bad?" Steve asked sympathetically. He knew that stuff could taste pretty bad, even when it was supposedly flavored to make it taste better.
"It tastes like pineapple!" Danny said.
Steve tried to hide his grin. "Aw, come on, that's not so bad. Don't you like pineapple?" he teased.
Danny glared at him. "No, I don't like pineapple, as you know perfectly well. I can't believe this place—even the cough syrup is pineapple flavored."
Steve capped the bottle and put it on the beside table. "Well, look at it this way—it's a reason to get better."
"You better believe it," Danny said. "I'll tell you one thing—after this is over, I'm never taking pineapple flavored cough syrup again."
Steve chuckled. "Yes, Danno. Now get some sleep."
Still grumbling about pineapple infested hellholes that couldn't even leave their medicine alone, Danny did.
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A/N: I'm not super happy with this, especially the ending (I couldn't figure out how to end it), but hopefully, you enjoyed it anyway!