The man lying on the couch was nothing short of miserable.
Four days ago Steve McGarrett's parachute had given problems during a HALO jump while he was at a reserve training. It had opened, thankfully, but not well enough for him to avoid all injury. He'd broken bones in his leg in several places, resulting in him becoming the proud owner of pins, plates, and screws, a cast, a pair of crutches, and strict orders not to put any weight on his leg until further notice but definitely no sooner than six weeks from now.
He was pissed. Beyond pissed, really. He was filled with that kind of seething anger that seems to just ignite inside you, putting you in the worst mood and making you snap at anything and everything nearby. He wasn't sure who to direct this anger toward, exactly, because it was a fluke accident. He couldn't really blame anyone, even himself. Knowing that, though, didn't change the fact that he'd be laid up for a few weeks, on crutches and in a cast for more, and was in a good bit of pain despite taking the pain medication the doctor prescribed even though it made him horribly nauseous.
To add insult to injury (literally, he thought, giving a huff of a humorless laugh), he'd woke up this morning with the realization that he was coming down with the cold Danny, Chin, and Kono had passed around the office.
Fantastic, he thought. Just freakin' fantastic.
And, just in case things weren't bad enough, it was Christmas. He'd had plans to meet Cath in Bangkok—she was due for a couple days of leave—and spend Christmas holed up in a five-star hotel with a Do Not Disturb sign on the door and room service for meals.
The damn leg had shot those plans all to hell though, and so here he was—on the couch, alone, on Christmas, in pain and nauseous and with what had to be one of the worst colds he'd ever had.
He shivered and pulled the blanket closer around him, wishing he had another one but knowing there was no way he was getting up just for that. He was having enough trouble moving around as it was. He'd tried to gather everything he thought he'd need before lying down on the couch, hoping not to have to move for a long time. The supplies he'd cobbled together were strewn about the coffee table that he'd pulled close to the couch, the nearby floor, and on top of the blanket. A couple of bottles of water, cough drops, pain medication, his phone, Kleenexes, a thermometer. He'd added a trash can after he realized during the night that his stomach couldn't be trusted and he absolutely did not want to have to clean his own vomit from the rug. That wasn't a pleasant thought in the first place but added to the fact that he had a huge cast on his leg and his movement was limited would have made the task torturous to say the least.
When the orthopedic surgeon asked if he had anyone to help him at home, his response was immediate. Sure thing, he'd said without hesitation. It was a lie, of course—he didn't have anyone at all, at home or otherwise, honestly—but he knew he'd be kept in the hospital if he said no and there was no way he was doing that. He was pretty sure the nurses knew the truth—he hadn't had any visitors while he was there, and that was probably a major clue—but it was a naval hospital and rank mattered. Since he outranked them, he assumed they'd decided to stay quiet. So, in typical McGarrett fashion, he'd lied to the surgeon, called one of the enlisted men from Pearl for a ride home, and now here he was.
It had been a long time since he'd experienced a 'normal' Christmas. He was normally deployed over the holidays and, even if he had leave, he had spent it with Catherine or the guys, electing not to return home. His relationship with his dad was strained, and his relationship with Mary was…well, it was nonexistent really. Oh, sure, he was her first phone call if she found herself in trouble (and she often did), but she never called just to talk and they never found time to visit. Steve was still bitter about being sent away after his mom died, still bitter about the fact his dad never bothered to show up at a family weekend at Annapolis when he was all alone while the others had families to take them off campus and spend time with.
He'd gotten used to being alone, but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt.
Knowing that he had reserves training, he'd given the rest of the team the week off with the governor's blessing. Chin and Kono were with their family on the island, Lou and his family had gone to Chicago, and Danny had gone to New Jersey for the first part of the week, planning to return on Christmas Day. Rachel had claimed Christmas this year and had gone to England to celebrate with her parents, taking Grace with her.
He checked his watch and saw it was time to take another pain pill. He didn't like having to take them, but the pain was awful. Even if he had to endure the nausea that no doubt would accompany the medication, if it would lessen the pain, it would be worth it. He offhandedly thought he should eat something with it but didn't have the energy to cook anything. Sighing, he heaved himself to his feet and slowly made his way to the kitchen with the crutches. He grabbed a granola bar and a bottle of ginger ale from the fridge, then made his way back to the couch. Soon the medication blessedly began to take effect, and he drifted off, vaguely aware of his phone ringing but too numb to care.
Catherine Rollins browsed through another store in Bangkok alone. This wasn't how she anticipated spending her Christmas leave, but it couldn't be helped, and she was determined to make the most of it. The hotel was gorgeous, and it was good to get away from the ship for a few days. She was trying to focus on the positive instead her disappointment, but it was hard.
She felt terrible for Steve. It seemed like he just couldn't catch a break lately. She wished she could have been able to go to Hawaii for Christmas, but she was only on leave for a few days. By the time she factored in the flight times, it just wasn't feasible. That's why they had agreed he would come here in the first place. She knew he was just as disappointed as she was, if not more so, and her heart ached for him. He had sounded so weary and unhappy when she talked to him earlier. She was worried about him.
Her phone rang then, and she pulled it out, smiling at the caller ID.
"Hi, Danny!" she answered.
"Merry Christmas!" Danny said as he navigated his way through the Honolulu airport with his luggage.
"Merry Christmas to you too! I hope you had a good trip home?"
"Oh, I did. Lots of snow, lots of time with family, lots of good food…it was great."
"I'm so glad to hear that."
"I called Steve but didn't get him. I hope the two of you are having a good time as well? Bangkok, right?"
Cath frowned. "Well, yeah, Bangkok, but Steve isn't here, Danny."
"What?" Danny stopped walking in confusion. He moved over to the side to allow others to pass while he tried to understand what Catherine was saying. "What do you mean, he isn't there? That's all he's talked about for weeks now."
"I know. We were both looking forward to it. With his leg and everything, though, he wouldn't have been cleared by his doctor to fly, even if he felt like it-which he doesn't, even though he doesn't want to admit it. He's so disappointed."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Oh. He didn't call you. I should have known he wouldn't have."
"Well, tell me now," Danny said, giving a 'hurry up' motion with his hand even though Cath couldn't see him. He couldn't quite hide the concern in his voice. "What's wrong?"
"He broke his leg on a jump during reserves training. It was a bad break, a compound fracture. He had to have surgery to put in screws and stuff to repair the breaks."
"Surgery?! And the big goof didn't call me?"
"Um," Catherine hesitated. "I'm pretty sure he didn't call anybody, Danny. From what I can tell, he's handled all this on his own."
"I'm assuming he's at Tripler, right?" Danny was walking quickly again, making his way toward the exit and, soon, his injured partner.
"Well, he was. That's where they did the surgery, and he was there for a couple of days. He's home now."
"They discharged him even though he didn't have anyone at home to help him?"
"I don't think he exactly told them the truth, Danny," Catherine said wryly. "I was upset when I heard he'd been discharged. I mean, I get it, I know how much he hates hospitals, but I'm not sure being on his own is the best idea right now. The pain is pretty bad, from what he's told me, and I think he's having to take more pain medication than he wants to. And you know he doesn't do well with pain medication in the first place. It makes him sick, and, when I talked to him earlier, it sounded like he had a cold or something too."
Throwing his luggage in the trunk, Danny hopped into the Camaro. "I wish he would have called me. I could have come back sooner. I would have come back sooner."
"I think that's what he was afraid of, Danny. He didn't want anyone changing their Christmas plans because of him."
"Oh, yeah," Danny said sarcastically. "Because he wouldn't change his plans to help any of us, right?"
"You know how he is, Danny—he thinks everyone else deserves so much more than he does. He thinks he doesn't deserve anyone to take care of him. I wish I could have gotten more days so I could have been there, but I couldn't. I tried. I didn't want him to be alone. The nurses were great, though, and kept me updated on everything that was going on, even during the surgery."
"Well, that's good, but…I wish he would have called me," Danny sighed. "I'm heading to his house now. I'm gonna go check on the big guy, see if he needs anything. I'll talk to you later on, okay?"
"Thanks, Danny." Catherine hung up feeling better than she did before. Now that Danny was back, she knew Steve would be taken care of. Not that Danny's care would be well-received, she thought with a grin. Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that…
The doorbell rang, rousing Steve from a fevered, restless sleep. "Go 'way," he mumbled into the pillow.
The doorbell rang again, and, a few seconds later, again.
"What the hell?" Steve muttered, dragging an arm over his face.
"McGarrett?" Danny yelled from the other side of the door. "You in there? I'm using my key and coming in. Don't shoot, okay?"
Steve sat up, leaving his leg propped up on pillows. He blew his nose as he heard Danny unlocking the door.
"Hey, buddy," Danny said, coming into the living room.
"Hey, Danno," Steve replied hoarsely. "What are you doing here?"
"Coming to check on you, obviously. Who breaks their leg bad enough to need surgery and never even calls anybody? I'm surprised you even called Cath."
"My CO needed to let someone know in case something went wrong," Steve said in explanation.
"Well, that's reassuring. So tell me, why are you here, drugged to the gills on pain meds and sick, all alone, instead of in the hospital where someone can look after your helpless ass?"
"First," Steve paused to cough. "Not helpless. I'm doing okay."
"Yeah, not so sure about that, but keep going."
"Second, just didn't want to stay in the hospital longer than I had to." He shrugged. "I'm okay."
"You're pale." Danny frowned at Steve.
"I'm sick—thanks, by the way."
"Yeah, sorry about that. Have you been taking any cold meds?"
"Nah. The pain meds have my stomach all messed up anyway."
"Have you been eating?"
"Yes, Danny."
Danny looked doubtful. "Meals?"
There was no point in lying. "No. Haven't really felt like cooking."
"You running a fever?" Danny moved to put his hand on Steve's forehead. The other man tried to duck and avoid the hand, but Danny—being a dad and used to such antics—was quicker. "Hell, yes, you are." He went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Advil from the cabinet and a bottle of water. "Here," he said, giving the items to Steve. "Take those. And drink that whole bottle of water. I'm sure you're dehydrated. I'm going to make you some soup. You can't survive on granola bars and fruit. And don't act like you've eaten anything other than that, because I know you."
"You don't have to do this, Danno. I'm fine."
"Yeah, see, I disagree with you there. You're in pain, miserable with a nasty cold, and look like you could puke any minute. I'm staying, babe. Get over it."
Steve huffed and lay back down on the couch. "How was Jersey?"
"Good," Danny said, searching under the cabinet for the pot he wanted. "It was nice to catch up with everybody. I wish Grace coulda gone, but you know."
"Yeah," Steve said. He sneezed and looked blearily at Danny. "Ugh. I feel awful."
"I know, babe. I'm sorry. How's the leg?"
"Hurts."
Danny looked at him sympathetically. "Listen, it's going to take me a while to make this. Why don't you try to go back to sleep? I know I woke you up when I got here."
Steve nodded tiredly. "Kay, Danno."
"Let me just tell you what our fearless leader has done now," Danny said on the phone to Chin as he chopped vegetables for the soup. He told Chin the whole story, and he could hear Chin relaying it to Kono in the background at their family Christmas dinner.
"He had surgery and has been home alone?" Kono asked incredulously. "Why in the world wouldn't he have called us? We were here!"
"Said he didn't want to bother anybody's Christmas," Danny answered, tossing the veggies into the pot.
"That's McGarrett for you," Chin said with a shrug. "At least you called Cath so we know now."
"We're coming over there, okay?" Kono said. "We've had too much family time anyway. We need to get away."
Chin laughed. "Now, cuz," he said in a low voice.
"You know it's true!"
By seven o'clock the four members of Five-0 were settled in Steve's living room eating soup and watching Christmas Vacation. Steve had been sufficiently chastised by Kono, who could fuss almost as good as Danny could. As Steve sniffled and coughed and generally looked pitiful, her fussing gave way to sympathy and she had curled up on the couch with him, letting his head rest in her lap and rubbing his back.
They watched the familiar movie, laughing and commenting at different times. Steve's leg still hurt, and he still felt bad, but the presence of friends made things so much better. As if Danny could sense what Steve was thinking, he looked at his partner. "Next time," Danny said kindly, "you call when you need something. You're not bothering anybody, you get that? That's what friendship is. What ohana is. It's not a one-way street, babe. Alright?"
Steve nodded, sleepy again from the latest dose of medication. "Got it, Danno."
Danny gave a quick nod. "Good." He turned his attention back to the movie. He patted Steve's leg as he carefully covered his friend with a blanket.
"Merry Christmas, Sparky," he teasingly said to Steve, mimicking the movie.
"Merry Christmas, Danno."
