Just a silly festive one shot that came to me in my sleep :)

I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any of the characters - unfortunately.

Happy holidays!

H50

He's vaguely aware of blackness and a constant buzz of chaos around him. He tries to focus, make sense of the noise, but it's too static, and he's unable to pull a coherent thought from the thick fog in his head. He tries to take a breath in, but there's no air; he can't breathe. And then there's a whoosh, and his lungs are forced to fill and deflate with no effort. His chest feels heavy, like someone has put a few hundred pounds of concrete on it, and it the haze starts to envelope around him. To damn tired to fight, he gives into nothingness.

An immeasurable amount of time later, he feels himself floating to the surface again. There's not so much buzzing, more of an inconsistent drone. He tries to focus on it, to pull himself from the blackness, but it's not stable enough. He tries to take in a breath, but still, there's no air and it feels like he's choking without panic. Whoosh, his chest rises and falls painfully, and he's pretty sure he should be groaning, but there's nothing slipping past his lips. His body aches, throbs, and exhausted, he falls into the peaceful oblivion.
The third time is less of a wakening, more clearing the haze. He's aware of an ambiguous warmth in his right hand, something that's been there for some time, and he uses it as his anchor. He tries to move his fingers, puts all of his energy and concentration into it, but isn't sure it worked. More buzzing, the air disturbs around him in a desperate rush. Something isn't right, and he doesn't know what, putting him on edge. He tries to breathe, but something is stopping him, the motion a forced habit. He tries again, and he doesn't understand. Where is the air? Struggles to pull a coherent thought from the fog. Whoosh, his chest is filled again and it doesn't feel normal. The buzzing persists, and he realises it's voices, and he wants to know what they're saying, but he's too damn shattered, and allows the darkness to coax him back.
Danny.
The thought tugs at Steve, and his conscience is suddenly paying attention.
Save Danny.
He pulls in a quick breath, relieved when he feels the air draw through his mouth, coughs a little when it feels like grit in his throat, winces when his body protests with each shaky inhale. He does a mental pat down; his right leg throbs, his chest aches and his head pounds. The constant warmth in his hand is joined by another on his forearm, and he lets it bring him closer to reality. The buzz fades in and out, returning each time with less static, and eventually he recognises the slow hum.
"Steve? Hey, buddy, you with me?" It persists, and rather than swatting it away like an annoying fly, he uses it as his hoist. "C'mon, man, wake up." Gives a light squeeze to his hand, and Steve realises the warmth is Danny's own hands resting on his skin.
"Danny?" He forces past a dry throat, sure it sounded garbled.
"Yep, the one and only." The distinctive Jersey voice rings in Steve's ear, and he winces slightly.
"No shouting." Steve grumbles.
"Why don't you open those baby blues for me?" Danny asks and Steve thinks about it. His eyes? Oh yeah, he'd better open them. He tries, but they're so heavy it takes a few attempts before they're open enough to focus on the smiling face of the blonde haired detective. The room is dark all but a lamp on the far side of the room, but even that is too bright and sends stabbing pains through Steve's eyes and into his brain. "Hey, how are you feeling?"
"Uuummppphhh..." Steve only manages, before letting his eyes close again. He feels the warmth leave his skin, and he doesn't know why, forces his eyes back open to see Danny pressing the nurses call button.
"Gotta let the doc's know you're awake." Danny explains to the pained, inquisitive expression.
"What ha'pn'd?" Steve tries to recall, but he can't remember anything other than...nothing. "Am in hospi'al?"
"Yeah, ICU. You're gonna be okay, you just need to rest up."
Steve brows furrow, still trying to pull the memories from the haze, but there's nothing there. He reaches up to pull away the annoying nasal cannula, but is stopped by the detective as he catches his hand and pushes it back down onto the bed. Tiredness tries to pull Steve back into unconsciousness, and with no energy to resist, he gives in and allows his eyes to slide closed.

The next time Steve wakes, he knows he's alone before he opens his eyes. Even when Danny is sat quietly in the visitor's chair, he's still making noise; breathing, mumbling, hiccoughs. To begin with, he's thankful for the peace and quiet, but the silence gets louder and eventually all that's left for Steve to do is start shuffling around so he doesn't feel quite so...alone. When the nurse comes into the room to check his vitals, he smiles at her and hopes she'll start conversation. She doesn't speak first though, knowing all too well that McGarrett's concussion means silence is better than small chit chat.
"When can I go home?" He's broken the silence anyway, tries not to wince when his head vibrates with each word.
"Not yet, Commander." The nurse smiles, writing in his chart and then heading out of the room. Steve sighs, casts his eyes around the private room all Five-0 members had insisted he had. He wonders why they're not here, wonders if they have a case, and feels a pang of jealousy. He shuffles in his bed a little, trying not to move his plastered leg too much, closes his eyes and lets sleep take him.

Steve's not entirely sure why people associate hospital rooms with beeping. He's woken a few times now, and is only aware of the constant whirring of the IV machine as it controls the drip rate of the two hanging bags of clear fluid, the occasional nurse popping in quietly and shuffling papers and checking blood pressure, and the familiar sounds of Detective Danny Williams.
"You favour your left leg." Steve says, because even though his eyes stay firmly shut, he knows his partner has just walked into his room.
"Excuse me?" Danny replies, sounding offended.
"You have a slight limp." Steve explains, opening his eyes, and Danny rolls his.
"Maybe that's because my partner likes to pretend he's Rambo, and I ended up tearing my ACL trying to keep up with the animal. What do you reckon?"
Steve lets a small smile play at his lips. Opts for "good morning, Princess." instead. His eyes cast down to the small bag crumpled in Danny's hand. "What have you got there?" He asks.
"Oh, just because it's Christmas," Danny lifts the bag up, grinning, "I brought you some real food." And collapses into the visitors chair near the curtained window.
"Malasada's?"
"Yup." Danny nods, looking slightly smug, knowing Steve would rather eat crappy hospital food.
"Sorry, Danno..."
"Yeah, yeah." Danny chuckles, and Steve rests his head back and closes his eyes, hearing his partner rustling the bag as he pulls out the sugary goodness.
"And it's not Christmas yet, Danno."
"Actually, Steven, it's Christmas Eve Eve." Danny corrects and Steve lets out a light laugh.
"Christmas Eve Eve? That's got to be made up."
"Absolutely not. It's a real day, which means it's officially Christmas. Sure you don't want to share?" Around a mouthful.
"No thanks, Danny." Steve shakes his head gingerly, his eyes remaining closed. "I don't think trans and saturated fats are the way to make me feel better."
"Health nut." Danny mumbled under his breath, around another big bite, before asking, "How are you feeling today, anyway?"
"Head hurts." Steve answers honestly, ignoring the jibe. "But better."
"Maybe next time you'll reconsider playing Rambo?" The blonde offers, skin prickling slightly at the memory of watching Steve tumble down a steep incline in the forest after a suspect and didn't miss the lopsided grin pulling at McGarret's mouth.
"Saved your ass and caught the son of a bitch, didn't I?"
"My ass didn't need saving, SuperSEAL." Danny scoffed, as he screwed the empty bag up and tossed it on the hospital table by McGarrett's bed.
"Why aren't you with Grace, anyway?" Steve opens his eyes and fixes them on his partner.
"I'm having her next year; I swapped Christmases with Rachel so I could sit with your sorry butt in here." Danny answers as he shifts in the chair.
"You shouldn't have done that." Steve scorns slightly, a lump forming in his throat, touched by the gesture.
"Wasn't about to let you spend Christmas alone." Danny mumbles, then clears his throat against the new openness between the friends.
"Thanks, buddy." Steve says, before giving into a yawn, sliding his eyelids shut and drifting off into an easy sleep.

When Steve wakes again, the room is in darkness all but the soft light from the hospital corridor pouring through the window in the door, the Hawaiian sun long past the horizon. He's alone; the only signs that he'd had a visitor are the crumbs on the visitors seat and the crumpled bakery bag on the table. He'd spent many Christmases alone, or away on missions he'd later only describe as Classified, never really marking the holiday in his personal calender and only actually remembering to send Mary a Christmas card once he was well into January. He was pretty sure that Danny was the reason he's becoming the man that he never thought he would be, that he had a new found appreciation for the festive period.
He'd laughed when Danny turned up on his doorstep five Christmases ago, accompanied by some awful tasting home made eggnog and two pineapple free pizza's. But the Christmas after, he's arrived with better tasting eggnog, one pineapple covered pizza and one pepperoni, and Grace. The third Christmas he'd turned up, he was carrying a stack of pineapple and ham pizza's, one pepperoni, some delicious eggnog and Kono and Chin. Accidentally, Daniel Williams had started a new tradition in the McGarrett household, and rather than feeling annoyed at the invasion, Steve had secretly been elated. On the fourth Christmas, Steve had even bought a traditional, plastic tree and some lights to decorate it with, much to Grace's elation.
Steve wonders what his Ohana will be doing this year, and then chuckles to himself for being foolish enough to think that just because he wasn't there, Danny wouldn't use his house to host the traditional get together. He smiles sadly, wishing he could be there, starts to close his eyes.
"Commander McGarrett?" A nurse pokes her head around the door and only enters after Steve gently nods his head yes. "How are you feeling?" She asks when at his side, studying the vitals on the monitor.
"Better." Steve answers honestly. "What day is it?"
"Tuesday." The nurse, Sandy, answers, retrieving the wheelchair from the far corner of the room.
"Christmas Eve?" Steve asks, sure that Danny had been here only a few hours ago, insisting it was Christmas Eve Eve.
"Sure is." Sandy nods, anchoring the wheelchair beside Steve's bed. "We've got to head down to radiology for your CT scan."
"Right now?" Steve asks for clarification, still unsure how he'd managed to sleep a whole day away. Come to think about it, the migraine had eased into a slight headache.
"Just following orders." Sandy insists, offering a hand to help Steve swing his plastered leg from the bed. "Medicine doesn't stop for the holidays." She chuckles as Steve gently eases himself into the wheelchair. "Would you like some tinted goggles to shade from the lights?" Before pulling open the ward room door.
"No, I'll be okay." Steve insists, and then as she wheels him into the hallway, his eyes ache and he closes them against the intensity of the lights.
He doesn't bother to try and open them again, listens to Sandy sing Jingle Bells under her breath as they move along.
They come to a stop all too soon.
"You just wait here, sugar." Sandy says into his ear, tapping his shoulder, before heading back out through the door they'd just come through.
For a minute, Steve keeps his face hidden in his hands, but even the concussion can't dull his senses enough to stop him feeling the many eyes gazing at him. Hesitantly, he lifts his head up, carefully lifts his lids and feels relief when no blaring lights shoot daggers through his eyes. Blinks a couple of times until he focuses on the five shadowy figures in the corner of the small, dark room.
Then, as if the moment was rehearsed over and over, lights flick on to illuminate a miniature Christmas tree on a small table, and the faces of five familiar faces come into view.
"Surprise!" They all say in a hushed tone, smiles spreading wide on the faces of people he'd come to call his family. Chin, Kono, Danny, Grace and Catherine are standing in front of him, santa hats on their heads and eggnog in hand. He casts a glance around him; they're in the family waiting room, the couches lined with tinsel, the window's lined with garlands of holly and mistletoe.
"How...why...What are you guys doing here?" Steve asks, shocked, allowing a hint of a grin to play on his lips.
"We wanted to spend Christmas with you, Uncle Steve." Grace explained, stepping forward and pulling herself up onto Steve's good knee.
"Wow, guys." Steve looks at each of them, surprised for the first time in a very long time. "Mahalo nui loa." Because 'thank you' just wouldn't do.
"C'mon, babe, less girly stuff." Danny teases, heading for the stack of pizza boxes under the tree. "Mines the loaded cheese." He warns the others off, and they all laugh at him.
"Here you go." Catherine smiles, handing Steve a glass of eggnog.
"I can't drink..." He starts, and Grace chimes in.
"It's alcohol-free, Uncle Steve. See I have some, too." She hold up her own glass proudly.
"So you do." He nods, taking a sip of the obviously store bought festive drink.
"Happy Christmas, Boss." Kono says as she hands him a slice of ham and pineapple.
"Yeah, Merry Christmas." Chin toasts his glass from beside the tree. And then, much to everyone's surprise, Danny turns to face the room, clears his throat to get their attention, and raises his glass of eggnog to his best friend, and the family surrounding them.
"Here's to Rambo, here." He smiles, joking. "And spending time with Ohana. Mele Kalikimaka!"
A split second of astonishment at Danny's ability to pronounce the Hawaiian phrase, before everyone toasts each other, all relieved that Steve, yet again, has made it out of the other side of another crazy-ass McGarrett stunt.
"Mele Kalikimaka!"

Mele Kalikimaka me ka Hau'oli Makahiki Hou

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!