"I'm gonna die, Danny."
He manages to get it out. To tell Danny. But he's not afraid. He's not sad. He's ready. He's so fucking ready. He only wishes Death had better timing because he can't land the plane and Danny doesn't know how to fly and Danny's breaking cover and there's a guy with a gun.
So maybe Steve wishes he could pull himself together enough to help out a bit, but he can't. So he closes his eyes and waits. Danny's Danny; he'll figure it out. Put it down in the ocean. Life vests for him and the idiot with the gun. Leave Steve in the plane.
Maybe he feels a little guilty that he's not fighting. Danny's gonna lose someone else. But really, will it be all bad? Sure they love each other but considering how much Danny bitches whenever they're together Steve not being around anymore can only be good for his friend's blood pressure. And it can only be good for his friend's life expectancy. Steve's not stupid. He knows he pulls some crazy shit and Danny, stupid fucking Danny, always has his goddamn back. Following him into the fire. Steve will be gone and the crazy will calm down and Chin and Kono and Lou will have his back when the shit does hit the fan. He'll be around to embarrass Gracie for years to come.
Gracie... who certainly doesn't need an Uncle Steve anymore. And if she does, she has Uncle Chin and Uncle Lou and Auntie Kono.
No one needs him. And Steve just needs this shit show of a life over with. He was never one to consider suicide, but he's also not one to ignore an opportunity.
He can't hear Danny anymore, but he doesn't have the energy to look and make sure he's okay.
So as his breathing slows, he closes his eyes. He relaxes into the pilot's seat. He waits for everything to finally be over. He'll finally find peace.
-\
The next time he opens his eyes, it's to a bright light. He scrunches his face up against the pain. Bright light was not what he was expecting. He'd never done anything to deserve a bright light. If there was going to be anything after he died, he expected darkness and pain. Punishment for his sins. Not much different from when he was alive, he supposed, but at least this would have been something he deserved.
He hears Danny's voice. Oh God, Danny didn't make it! Danny deserves the bright light. Danny deserves everything.
But then there's other people and even brighter lights shining in his eyes and he realizes something horrible.
He's alive.
Maybe this is his punishment?
There's talk of gunshot wounds and infections. Of transplants, for fuck's sake. And Danny.
Danny who risked his own life – and the lives of all kinds of innocent beach goers - to avoid taking the plane down in the ocean. Idiot.
Danny who donated half his fucking liver to save his life. Like it was nothing. Like he couldn't have faced complications and left Gracie and Charlie without a father. Like he thought Steve would approve of that.
Fuck you, Danny.
-\
Everything is worse.
The nightmares. The pain. The meds. The apologetic Naval Officer who delivered a fancy apologetic letter. The Doctor who told him he shouldn't go back to work, unless it was at a desk, for another six months.
Danny who won't fucking shut up about his liver. Why did you even give it me? Steve swallows the lie every time he thanks Danny for saving his life; that he appreciates what Danny did for him.
Steve kind of hates Danny these days.
He goes home alone. Hasn't seen Gracie since he and Danny left the hospital. Hasn't seen anyone outside of work. He goes home alone. He doesn't bother to turn on a light. He doesn't even look twice at his ocean. He needs to sleep, to rest, to find some shred of strength to do all of this over again tomorrow.
He has to be ready to seize the next opportunity.