Steve knew that Dr. Yamamoto was waiting for him relate what had happened after that first day. Steve wasn't 100% certain himself. He'd pieced it together from what his ohana had told him and the flashes he could remember. The memories that had surfaced weren't clear and made no sense, not even to him.
"Did you listen to him?" Dr. Yamamoto prompted. "Did you stay in bed?"
"I slept. The pain medication does that. When he got there after work, I was on the couch watching TV."
"What did he say?" the doctor asked, a smile in his voice.
"He…uhm…he sniffed my hair," Steve said softly.
"Sniffed your hair."
"He said he could tell by the way my hair smelled whether or not I'd been swimming. When he didn't smell the ocean, he knew I hadn't swum," Steve explained, the doctor chuckling in response.
"He is a good friend."
"The best," Steve confirmed.
"What happened next?" Dr. Yamamoto asked when the silence stretched out for too long and Steve showed no inclination to break it.
"Everything was fine until Saturday night," Steve said, looking back out the window.
"Is that when the fever started?"
"I guess it started some time Saturday afternoon. But it was a hot day and I didn't really notice. Danny had to go in, to join Chin and Kono to investigate the cartel we thought we'd busted down to nothing. I was sleeping when he left but he'd written me a note," Steve said.
"And when he got to your house that night?"
"I wasn't there," Steve admitted, knowing full well that the doctor already knew what occurred.
"What do you remember of what happened?"
"The first thing I remember was Danny standing over me, talking to me. He was using the voice he generally reserves for Grace."
"That's his daughter?"
"Yeah. She's ten. She's…well, she's perfect," Steve said, love in his voice and on his face. The doctor smiled in response to Steve's.
"Did you know why he was talking to you using that tone?"
"At first I thought Grace had gotten hurt and he was trying to calm her down. It was dark. I could hear the surf and I was coated in sand," Steve said, looking down at his pants as though to make sure they weren't still covered with it. "I had on board shorts but no shirt. Danny thought I got too hot and took it off," Steve said with a shrug.
"And how far from home were you?" Dr. Yamamoto prompted.
"Four miles, more or less," Steve admitted. "I was wearing shoes."
"Your combat boots," the doctor guessed from his previous experiences.
"Yes. Danny kept talking to me until he was able to take my gun."
"It was loaded?"
"Yes," Steve confirmed, sounding a little embarrassed. "He'd unloaded it before he went to HQ but I found the extra magazines. I don't remember getting them out of the closet but I must have done."
"It's in your training, Steve. You don't have reason to be embarrassed by doing what has become instinct."
"I could have killed him. I could have killed a stranger," Steve said in a hard tone.
"You didn't," Dr. Yamamoto said. "Detective Williams reported that you at no time threatened him. You were reluctant to surrender your gun but only because you were determined to keep both of you safe."
"Safe," Steve repeated. That was a strange word to use when he'd been wondering the beaches of Oahu with his SIG-Sauer fully loaded.
"Detective Williams crawled into your makeshift bunker with you. You'd dug it quite deep above the high tide line by the time he found you. You were facing toward the ocean with your night vision goggles within arm's length."
"Who was after us? Did I say?" Steve asked, equal parts embarrassed and curious. It was not a topic he was comfortable discussing with Danny. Even after all the time that had passed, the emotions were still too close to the surface for him to talk about it.
"The report I read said you were on watch for the 'enemy.' You never specified who that was."
Steve nodded. He supposed that made sense. He had chased after plenty of "enemies" in his day. Didn't much matter which one he thought was after him when he'd dug a bunker on the beach. "The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. I was freezing."
"From the ice they placed on you to help control your fever," the doctor prompted.
"They said it had gone up to 105.2. I was delirious. I had developed an infection in the wound and it had gone untreated. Plus I had gotten it contaminated with sand," Steve said, looking again down at his arm. They'd had to reopen the flesh, flush it out, and pack it with medication while he was being treated for the fever. "They eventually handcuffed me to the foot of the hospital bed. Not even Danny could stop me from getting up. And they didn't want to keep me sedated the entire time."
"And you were in the hospital for four full days?" the doctor asked, as much for confirmation as being a true question.
"The second and third day, I mostly knew where I was. Apparently I had bouts of confusion, thinking I was being held prisoner," Steve admitted. "By the fourth day, the fever was completely gone and I was discharged. Again."
"What happened when you got home?" Dr. Yamamoto asked in his coaxing tone.
~0~
Steve hadn't wanted Danny to come to take him home the second time. He was embarrassed that he'd been so irrational during the fever and it didn't matter how many times Danny, Chin, Kono, or Dr. Brooks told him he wasn't to blame, it was hard for him to believe it.
"Because Chin can come get me," Steve said over the phone. He suspected Danny was actually in the parking lot although he'd refused to admit it to Steve.
"Or I can," Danny said. "You were ill, Steven. You didn't hurt me. You didn't hurt anyone but yourself. Why are you all Patty Pouty over what happened?"
"Patty Pouty?" Steve asked.
"It was one of Grace's dolls. Stop changing the subject. I'll be there in ten minutes to take you home," Danny said with a finality Steve knew not to bother to argue with.
"Fine," Steve sighed. "Fine. But then you're going right back to headquarters."
"We'll see," Danny said, hanging up. Steve sat staring at his phone. Danny had decided. That was that.
"That wasn't ten minutes," Steve said when Danny came into the hospital room with the requisite wheelchair. Steve already had on the sweatpants and tee shirt that Danny had brought him the day before.
"Ehh…who's counting?" Danny said, waving it off. "I have your meds and care instructions. We have to watch very carefully for any swelling. You don't have any personal effects. They burned your shorts and I took your boots already. So you couldn't use them as part of your escape. Here are your flip flops. Or slippahs as you insist on calling them. Although those are bedroom shoes, not beachwear. But why am I trying to and talk sense into you? Especially now."
"Please. Stop talking," Steve requested as he got into the hated wheelchair, careful of his right arm. They had casted it this time, to keep it cleaner and to protect the healing muscles and tendons that had been slashed. Although he hadn't thought it was possible, it hurt even worse than it had after he'd first been attacked. This pain was the result of all the treatment he'd received, he knew. He wouldn't be pretending to take the pain medication this time. He'd take it religiously just like the heavy duty antibiotics they had prescribed. That was in follow-up to the ones that had been in his IV for the past three and a half days.
"You have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Brooks in a week. I'll be bringing you. So I'll know if you have permission to return to work instead of listening to you lie about what he said," Danny said conversationally as he pushed Steve down the hallway. "Once the stitches are out, you'll have physical therapy. I know you think you can just power through your recovery but you have some severely damaged muscles. They will need help to recover."
"Fine," Steve said, trying to sound grumpy. In truth, he really did appreciate everything Danny had done and was doing for him. He just didn't want to have to admit it to anyone, even himself.
Danny pushed him over to the Camaro where it waited by the curb. Steve mostly got into the car by himself when Danny held the wheelchair steady. Certain Steve was in, Danny took the chair back inside the hospital, returning quickly.
"I'm not going anywhere," Steve told him.
"What? We're going to your house. What are you talking about?" Danny demanded as he pulled away from the curb.
"You ran back from returning the wheelchair. Like you expected me not to be here when you came out," Steve said, taking his extra pair of sunglasses out of the glove compartment. They helped his headache recede a little when he had them on.
"I can never be sure. It'd be just like you to take off in my car before I could get into it. You think I don't know what you are capable of, my friend? Because I do," Danny told him, glancing over at him to judge his condition.
"I do know," Steve confirmed, closing his eyes, his head back against the rest.
"Truth – how are you feeling?" Danny asked firmly.
"Outside of a headache, I'm pretty much okay," Steve decided. "My arm hurts but I think that's to be expected."
"Yeah," Danny agreed. "You need to drink extra. 'Push fluids' is what Dr. Brooks said. Because you were very close to complete dehydration."
"That's not your fault," Steve told him.
"I should have checked. I should have made sure. I know how stubborn you are. I'll make sure you get enough to drink this time," Danny said.
"Okay," Steve agreed. It was easier than trying to stand up for himself. And he knew Danny was right. He did need to drink more than he had been. The underlying nausea he'd felt since being knifed hadn't helped. And maybe he'd forgotten to mention that but it was much better now so why would he bother? "Did you guys find ʻAkamu?"
"Not yet," Danny said. It turned out Ahu ʻAkamu was the actual mastermind behind the drug cartel, and not Huphau whom they had captured in the raid that had gotten Steve injured. "We have a lead on his hideout. Chin is checking out the neighborhood for any suspicious activity. And we think we found his wife. But she's denying it and is less than loquacious."
"You couldn't say 'she won't talk'? Like a normal person?" Steve asked, making Danny frown at him. "All right. What else?" Steve asked, waving away Danny's unhappiness.
"That's about it for now. I have some of the surveillance reports with me. You can look them over from your bed where you will be going as soon as we get you inside," Danny said in his best 'lecturing' voice.
"Yes sir," Steve said, frowning over at him.
"You know I'm right," Danny said. "Doris called. She wants to know if she should come home to help."
"No," Steve said firmly. "The last thing I need is her fussing over me. You're bad enough."
"Did you just compare me unfavorably to your mother?" Danny demanded.
"Stop yelling at me. You're making my headache worse," Steve said. "Is she having fun with Mick?"
"She said she is," Danny said. "They are having lunch with Mary again tomorrow."
"That's good," Steve said, looking up at his house when Danny had stopped in the driveway. "Good to be home."
"I know the feeling," Danny agreed, coming around the car to help Steve out, ignoring his protests that he was perfectly capable of making it to his front door all by himself.
Together they got Steve upstairs and into his bed. He lay down gratefully, arms too heavy to hold up off the soft surface. Danny shook his head before carefully lifting both of Steve's feet onto the bed.
"What do you want to drink?" Danny asked as Steve scooted further onto the bed.
"Water's fine," Steve said, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as he said.
"I'll be right back with it. I'll bring a couple extra bottles so you won't have to come down for it," Danny said.
"Then you can go back to work," Steve said, his left arm over his eyes.
"I have my laptop. Chin and Kono have done all the recon. And it's after 3:00. I'll go in tomorrow," Danny said.
Steve grunted in response, far too tired to argue. He started awake when Danny reentered his bedroom. He had no idea he'd fallen asleep in the short amount of time Danny had been downstairs.
"Here," Danny said, handing him an opened bottle of water with one hand and his two pills with the other. Steve washed down both tablets, emptying the bottle of water without taking a breath. "Why didn't you tell me you were so thirsty?" Danny asked, opening a second bottle for him.
"I didn't know," Steve said, drinking the second bottle much more slowly. "You hear from Catherine?"
"She's on patrol in the Indian Ocean, I think," Danny said. "She sends her love. As does Rachel. And Grace wants to come over and write on your cast."
"Did you tell her she can write on my cast any time?" Steve asked with what passed for a smile. It was the best he could do at the moment. He returned the empty bottle to Danny before laying flat down.
"Of course. She said something about colored markers and glitter," Danny said with a laugh.
"Glitter," Steve repeated with a shiver, making Danny laugh again.
"I'll nix the glitter but I don't think I can do anything about the colored markers," Danny said.
"Appreciate it," Steve agreed with a yawn.
"Go to sleep. You need anything else before I go down?"
"No. Thank you. I don't think I remembered to tell you that before," Steve said, sleep weighing down each word.
"You don't have to thank me, babe. That's what best friends do," Danny assured him from the doorway. "I'll be right downstairs. Give a holler if you need anything."
Steve grunted, back asleep before Danny was fully in the hallway.
"It's okay, babe. You can let me up," Danny said. Steve had him pinned on the bed, holding both of Danny's wrists over his head with his left hand.
It wasn't that Danny hadn't imagined what it would be like to have Steve laying on top of him, but not under these circumstances. He'd about given up hope that the circumstances would ever be right for him to be in bed with Steve. Unless he had a fever and wasn't quite sure what he was doing. "Can you let me up? You're about to crush me."
Steve rose up on his left elbow to look down at Danny, a confused expression on his face. "What are you doing here?"
"It's 10:00 in the morning, babe. You've been asleep for almost 19 hours. I was getting worried," Danny said. Steve had tackled him so swiftly it had been a blur to Danny. He'd never seen anyone move so quickly but he wasn't all that surprised Steve had done it. Even sick he was stealthy and deadly.
Steve finally rolled off of him, turning his head to look at Danny. Even though Steve was trying to keep his face blank, Danny could see the guilt leaking through.
"Why aren't you at work?" Steve asked, looking up at the bright ceiling.
"Because you didn't wake up. I wasn't going to leave you when you were nearly comatose," Danny explained, sitting up. "You must need to use the bathroom by now. Because if you don't, we have a much bigger problem on our hands."
"I went twice during the night," Steve said, carefully standing up beside the bed. "I need to go now."
"All right. Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?"
"I'll know once I wake up," Steve said, making his way to the bathroom, shuffling along and hating feeling like an old, old man. Danny was still in his bedroom when he returned, changing the sheets on the bed. Steve had no choice but to sit in the chair as Danny finished fluffing and fussing. Steve knew Danny held no ill-will toward him for the attack. Steve wished he could be as forgiving of himself. "Go to work."
"After I make sure you eat," Danny said. "Kono and Chin brought over fruit salad last night. I'll get you some."
"Okay," Steve agreed, slowly moving from the chair to the freshly made bed. He sat up against the headboard, automatically accepting the two tablets from Danny. Danny kept an eagle eye on him as he washed them both down. "I took them in the middle of the night too," Steve told Danny, unnecessarily proud when Danny nodded with a smile.
"Good boy," Danny said. "I'll be right back."