"You could still come with us. My folks would love to see you."

Steve shakes his head, allowing himself a small smile. Ever since Danny had announced that he was going back to Jersey for three weeks his partner had asked him the same thing every day. His answer had always been the same:

"I'm good, Danny. Go and enjoy some time with your family."

A quick glance at the airport departure board tells him that they're running out of time. Reaching down he draws Grace in for a big hug, curling his arms around her, letting the heat of her body warm him. When she hugs him back, drawing him impossibly closer, he lets out a shaky breath.

Stupid, he tells himself, gently untangling his limbs and kissing her on the forehead. It's just three weeks. He'll be fine on his own.

Straightening up, he catches Danny frowning at him. "Seriously, just go already! You'll miss your flight." Grabbing his friend by the shoulders he pulls him in for a hug too, breathing a sigh of relief as Danny's arms come up to encircle him, his fingers digging in tight.

Things have been off between them since the plane crash, the enormity of what happened making them miss a beat, trip, flipping them out of step while they learn to readjust their friendship. They've still got this though, this need to touch, to reassure each other with actions when words fail them.

He's gonna miss it. So, so, much.

The thought catches him off guard, making him blink and swallow hard.

"Steve?"

Danny's tensing, pulling away. "Gracie, you tell me if he gets into any trouble, okay?" he shoots back, grinning despite his dark mood as Grace rolls her eyes. Danny's still watching him but he keeps his eyes down as he helps Grace wrangle her way into her backpack. "Call me if you need anything."

"It's just New Jersey, Uncle Steve."

Grace's exasperation is tinged with fondness and he can't resist one last hug before he lets her go and they finally disappear through the departure gates.

Not before Danny throws one last look back at him though. A look that speaks a thousand words.

He just wishes he knew how the hell to translate them.

H5oH50H50

"You okay, Boss?"

Taking a sip of his drink he flashes Kono a quick smile before settling down in his chair. "I'm good." Closing his eyes he stretches out his legs, popping his joints out all the way to his toes. They're on Kono's front porch, the sinking sun bathing them in the last few rays of light.

It's a little bit of heaven.

"You sure about that?" she asks hesitantly, coming to a stumbling halt as he opens one eye to squint at her suspiciously.

"Danny called, didn't he?"

"Damn, I've been busted," she laughs, leaning over in her chair to nudge him apologetically. "But you know what he's like. He-"

"-worries," he finishes, nudging her before shifting so they're touching from shoulder to elbow. She's always been a tactile person, the warmth of her personality soothing those around her. Sighing, he closes his eyes and settles down further.

She doesn't flinch.

"You didn't answer his texts," she says a while later, breaking the companionable silence that's fallen over them.

"I answered Grace's," he shoots back, trying to not show how guilty he feels about what he's done.

"He thinks he's done something wrong."

"Oh for..." Kono's spoken the words so quietly but the accusation in them is loud and clear. He twists round to stare at her mullishly even though a small voice in his head is telling him he's in the wrong. "He's supposed to be on vacation, not constantly checking up on me. I thought I'd give him a break, okay?"

"Steve-"

"What?" She's leaning over, resting her hand over his and he stares at it fixatedly, not wanting to meet her eyes. "We don't have to know what the other one is doing 24/7-"

"That's not fair," she reprimands him softly, tugging gently on his hand. "Talk to me, Boss."

It's the use of his title that makes him look up reluctantly. She's one of the gentlest souls he's ever met and one of the toughest people he's ever had the honour to command.

Deep down, he acknowledges, he's a little in awe of her.

Sighing deeply, one-handedly he runs his fingers through his hair. "Did you speak to him?" he asks, making one last weak attempt to deflect. There's no way he can get his thoughts together - he's got no idea what his thoughts are in the first place.

He's a mess.

Head tilted she watches him for a moment before answering his question. "I called him. Told him you'd been here every evening, helping to redecorate before Adam comes home." Chewing on her lip thoughtfully, when she finally leans forward he feels his heart sink. "So why are you here every evening?"

"If you don't want my help-" he retorts, the words dying on his lips as a look of hurt flashes across her face. "Sorry," he mumbles, rubbing his hand over his face again.

His feeling of guilt grows tenfold when she leans over again to nudge him, a soft smile of forgiveness on her face. "You're always welcome here, you know that. But I'm worried about you, we all are. You want to tell me what's going on?"

Not really, he thinks. Surviving life-changing events isn't a new experience for him. His parents, Freddie, numerous military operations overseas, Cath leaving. He's been knocked down. He's picked himself.

It's what he does.

Accept this time he hasn't.

This new introspective version of himself has thrown him for a loop. Having his friends and family around him now is like wearing a protective blanket that he never wants to give up. Staying alive to enjoy a future with them is a new priority, one he's never let himself have before.

Before, his priority had simply been to keep them alive. Even if that meant sacrificing himself in the process.

It's like someone's tipped his world on its axis.

H50H50H50H50

"It's okay to admit you're lonely."

Choking on his drink in surprise he turns to glare at his sister who is curled up on the couch beside him, a half-empty beer bottle dangling from her hand. Now that alcohol is off-limits for him he's offered to watch Joanie for the night so Mare can let her hair down for a change.

It's a decision he's rapidly starting to regret.

"You've been reading those magazines again, haven't you?" he shoots back, stretching out his foot to prod the pile of celebrity gossip magazines stacked on the coffee table in front of them.

"They are very informative," she tells him primly, the beer-fuelled loopy smile on her face telling him what she actually thinks. "Come on, last week you were at Kono's every day, every day," she insists, as he opens his mouth to protest, "and this week you've been here every day-"

"Mare-"

"-every day. And don't get me wrong, we love having you here. We really do, but you look tired all the time and I know you, you're worried about something and you won't tell anyone..."

The bottle is waving dangerously, making him reach over to retrieve it. Mare pulls away and he watches with growing horror as she blinks back tears. Grabbing the bottle he places it safely on the table before pulling her into a hug, wrapping her up as tight as he can, tucking her head under his chin. "Ssssh, everything's okay, Mare."

"It's not," she insists around a wet sob that makes his heart clench painfully. "You nearly died. And Joanie's already lost Aunt Deb and she almost lost you. And I would have been on my own again and I can't do that, Steve. I can't. I don't want you to leave but I know-"

"It won't happen again," he hears himself saying, the sudden all-encompassing certainty lifting the weight off his shoulders. "Okay, maybe I can't control everything that happens in my job," he amends when she untucks herself from under his chin to blink at him warily, "but I want to be here for Joanie and Nahele and Grace and Charlie. I'll do everything I can to make that happen. I promise."

He doesn't know whether to laugh or cringe when she leans down to wipe her face on his tee, her eyes flashing mischievously despite the tears clotting her eye lashes. He pulls her close again, absorbing the warmth of her body.

He loves her so, so, much.

Sniffing, she wipes her nose on the back of her hand before pulling away to rearrange his limbs so that she's still in his arms but upright. "What about the Navy?" she asks, leaning across to grab her beer before he can stop her. The slight quiver in her voice makes him feel guilty all over again. "When Cath left you said you didn't blame her, that you'd do the same thing."

He pulls her closer for a second, wishing he could have a sip of her beer. He's thought about this a lot over the last few weeks too.

Why had he delayed asking Cath to marry him for so long?

"I'd stay now," he answers truthfully, unable to put anything else into words. "For you and Joanie and the others. I'd stay."

"But not for Cath or Lynn?"

Lynn had been right, he acknowledges, when she'd said his head hadn't been in the game.

It hasn't been in the game for a long, long time.

"I'd stay for you and Danny and the others," he admits to himself finally, whispering the words, testing them out.

The world doesn't end like he thought it would.

H50H50H50H50

"You wanna tell me what's going on?"

Danny's standing on his doorstep, a buzzing bundle of blonde, blue-shirted frustration. Dragging him in the door he pulls him into a hug, drawing in his warmth like a blanket, burying his nose in his hair, breathing in deep, feeling his heart beat slow.

Feeling himself coming home.

When Danny twists out of his hold he takes a deep breath, forcing himself not to panic as his friend scowls at him, hands planted angrily on his hips.

His knees almost buckle with relief though when he looks into Danny's eyes. Really looks. He hadn't imagined the want there, the need that he'd been telling himself to ignore. Danny's been frustrated and angry because he's been waiting for him.

And he's been acting like an idiot. Full stop.

The big grin that spreads across his face is spontaneous, there's no way he can make it stop. It's fuelled by the bubble of excitement inside him that's growing as he studies Danny's face.

Danny's face which is gradually morphing into a smile of its own, dawning understanding adding a spark to Danny's blue eyes which he's never seen before.

It's beautiful.

And impossible to resist.

Leaning forward slightly he pulls Danny back into a hug. It's like a replay of their goodbye at the airport except this time Danny's fingers are pulling at his tee, slipping under the fabric, warming his skin, making him curl into his touch with a whimper of relief.

When their lips finally touch, brushing gently at first, he has one final coherent thought.

He's finally come home.

THE END