Thanks so very much to everyone who's left a review! Getting a chance to see your reactions and thoughts truly does inspire me to keep writing. It makes me feel like I'm not working in a vacuum, and I appreciate that so much!
JoaniexJony, virtual hugs and cookies to my most awesome beta! Mahalo, sweetie!
Hope you enjoy the next chapter, and as always, I'd love to hear what you think.
Chapter Ten
Steve rolled over and opened his eyes. His stomach growled and his mouth watered - someone was cooking breakfast. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a cooked meal to start the day, so he hopped in the shower, threw on some clothes and headed downstairs.
Margie Williams turned around from the stove and smiled as Steve stumbled, yawning and bleary eyed, into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Steve," she smiled cheerfully. "Coffee? Black, just like you like it."
"Mrs. Williams," Steve gratefully took the cup, holding it up to his face and breathing it in. "I think I'm in love."
"I'm not quite sure how Danny would feel about that, not to mention Frank," Margie giggled. She lightly slapped Steve on the arm. "And how many times have I told you to call me Margie?" She turned off the stove and took a saucepan from the burner, deftly tossing its contents onto a plate. "I know you're health conscious, so the scrambled eggs are made with egg whites, and the turkey bacon is the leanest I could find." She reached across the counter to the toaster. "And whole wheat toast, dry." She handed the plate to Steve and then grabbed a cup of coffee for herself and sat down at the kitchen table.
"Oh my god, this smells awesome," Steve moaned, grabbing a fork and digging in. "No wonder Danny likes food so much." He washed down a mouthful of food with a gulp of coffee. "You and Frank are welcome to stay as long as you want."
"Thank you, dear," Margie laughed. "Frank and I appreciate you opening up your house to us this past week, but when Danny's released from the hospital in a few days, we'll be heading home."
"You know, I kind of thought you'd be at the hospital by now," Steve shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
"Danny wanted some time with Rachel. Frank swung Grace by the hospital this morning and then took her to school. Thanks for letting us use your truck by the way. I hope it hasn't been too much of an inconvenience for you."
"Nah," Steve grinned. "I've got Danny's Camaro." He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth and glanced sidelong at Margie. "You don't like Rachel much, do you?"
Margie set her cup down and began to busy herself cleaning the kitchen. Steve finished off the plate full of food, washing it down with the rest of the coffee.
Finally Margie began to speak. "It takes a certain kind of woman to live the life. Rachel jumped every time the phone rang, lived in so much fear she couldn't see she wasn't even living anymore. When she finally figured out she didn't want to be a cop's wife, she left. I just wish she'd had that little self revelation long before she broke my boy's heart."
Steve got up and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He began to rinse the dishes in the sink. "Then Danny wouldn't have Grace," he observed.
Margie glanced over at Steve and smiled. "True. And that little girl is a treasure, not to mention the light of my boy's life. You know, Danny never would have come to Hawaii, either, if he hadn't followed Grace here."
Steve put down the dish he was scrubbing and looked uncertainly at Danny's mother. "The way things have worked out, I wouldn't blame you for thinking that wasn't such a good thing. I'm sorry Danny got hurt."
Margie turned and began scrubbing at the stove. "March 1989. A house fire killed two men in my Frank's unit. May 1992. Six teenagers crashed their car into a ditch and drowned before anyone could get to them. September 2001," Margie looked up at Steve, the sponge tight in her hand. Her voice throbbed with grief, "Nearly 3000 people dead…civilians, firemen, cops…" Her arms trembled.
Steve slipped his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head against his chest. "I guess what I'm trying to say Steven, is that tragedy doesn't discriminate. Doesn't matter if you're married to a cop, a fireman, or an insurance broker. That's what Rachel never understood. All you can do is live your life. It wasn't your fault Danny got hurt." She swiped the tears from her cheeks and gently patted his shoulder. "And I don't regret him moving out here, not anymore."
"Why not?" Steve asked curiously.
Margie smiled. "Because despite all of my son's bitching and moaning, I've never seen him so happy." She scrubbed at a spot on the stove and then set the sponge down. "And it's not because of Rachel. It's not even because of Grace. It's you and your team. He's part of something special, and he knows it."
"Yeah. I feel…we feel, the same thing," Steve turned and leaned his back against the counter. "We call it ohana. It means we're family. That no one gets left behind or forgotten."
"I like that," Margie smiled.
"And for the record," Steve enveloped Margie in a hug and dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "His parents are pretty special, too."
Steve pretended not to notice as Margie surreptitiously wiped tears from her eyes.
"I've got to head to work, but if you need anything, you let me know," Steve squeezed her hand. "Thanks for breakfast."
"Be careful out there," Margie called after him as he banged out the front door.
Steve smiled and gave a surfer's wave before jumping into the Camaro and driving away.
Margie wandered into the living room, pausing to look at the pictures of Steve's family on the walls. She lingered over a picture of a young McGarrett family. Steve couldn't have been much more than eight. His mother's arms were draped around his shoulders. A dolphin pendant hung from her neck, glittering in the light. Her face was filled with joy and hope. Margie's heart ached for Steve, for the grief that was ever present just beneath the surface. Some wounds, she knew, could never be healed.
H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O
Danny sat on top of the covers of his hospital bed and watched his ex-wife gaze down at the courtyard outside his room. She wore a bright pink sundress that accented her slender figure and he found himself holding his breath. She was beautiful, and he'd always known he'd never gotten over her, that he loved her now just as much as he did back then. Rachel had a way of seeing through him. It had never been more evident than when Mattie was in town. She had been the only person he wanted to be with when Mattie had run away.
"You look a lot better today," she noted, turning her head to look at him. She smiled, but her dark eyes were troubled, and the shadows underneath them were hard to miss.
"It's amazing what not wearing a hospital gown will do for you," Danny joked lightly, motioning with his hands at the blue pajama bottoms and grey t-shirt Steve had dropped off for him the day before.
"How are the headaches?" Rachel asked.
"They come, and they go," Danny admitted with a shrug. He picked at the tape holding his one remaining IV in place and drew his knees to his chest. "The docs say they'll clear up in time."
"That's good," Rachel nodded. "Dr. Imani says you might be going home in a few days?"
"Yeah, well, not home, exactly, I'll be going to Steve's until I'm back on my feet," Danny closed his eyes and pinched his brow with his forefingers. He looked up at his ex-wife. "Rach, what are we doing?"
"We're having a pleasant conversation about your recovery," Rachel twisted the wedding ring on her finger. Abruptly she stopped and shoved both hands behind her back.
"Come here for a second, babe," Danny said softly, holding out his hand.
Hesitantly, Rachel crossed the room and took Danny's hand. She sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.
"I don't know if I ever properly thanked you for saving my life," Danny gently brushed his thumb over the back of Rachel's hand.
"I didn't have a choice. I had to get you out of there," Rachel lowered her eyes and barely suppressed a shiver. "I was so scared for you, Daniel."
"I know," Danny brought Rachel's hand to his lips. "Tell me what you want," he whispered. Tenderly he began kissing each finger.
Danny felt her shudder. Their touch had always been electric. They fought and they made love with the same passion. He looked into her dark eyes and felt the same spark that had drawn him to her so long ago. He throbbed with desire. He caressed her face, slid his hand around the back of her neck. She trembled and gripped his arm with her hand. He could feel her wavering and slowly he began to draw her closer. Her wedding ring glinted in the light.
She let out a strangled cry and jerked her hand away. She sprang from the bed, her body shaking and trembling. She was taut as a string, as if she was being pulled between two opposing forces. Danny and Stan. Past and present. She was frozen by indecision and Danny knew if she didn't make a choice soon, it was going to rip her apart.
"I know you still love me," Danny said with quiet conviction. "Just like I still love you. Why did that stop being enough?"
"I don't know," Rachel gasped. She wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach. She bit back a sob, her face scrunching as if in intense pain.
"Just come here, Rach," Danny pleaded. He held out his hand. "We can make this work."
"No we can't," Rachel shook her head. "I can't. I'm sorry, Danny."
And then the door opened behind her and it was like a spell had been broken: she snatched up her purse and she fled.
Kiki flattened herself against the door to avoid being bowled over by the distraught brunette.
"I suppose it's a stupid question to ask if she's okay," Kiki commented wryly, stepping into the room. She took one look at Danny and said, "However, I am going to ask you." She picked up his wrist and took his pulse. "I believe I recommended you avoid stressful situations for a while."
"I didn't think you meant it when you approved my being released into Steve's care," Danny snarked. He fell back against the pillows and closed his eyes.
"I could always change my mind," Kiki said dryly, pulling a blood pressure cuff off of a nearby tray table.
"I'd really rather you didn't," Danny sighed, looking at his doctor apologetically. He handed Kiki his arm and as she firmly wrapped the cuff around his bicep he added, "I mean, Steve's place has only been shot up once. What are the odds of it happening again?"
As Kiki finished taking his blood pressure she shook her head and said, "My mother always warned me to never tempt the universe; she's a fickle lady. I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you that your blood pressure is a little high, so how bad is that headache right now?"
"A little more than 'not bad' and a little less than 'like a volcano erupting in my head,'" Danny grudgingly admitted.
"Okay," Kiki gave Danny a motherly pat on the arm. "Back under the covers. It's naptime for you."
"I am really tired of playing the role of invalid," Danny glowered, reluctantly sliding his legs under the bedcovers. He settled back against the pillows with a heavy sigh as Kiki slightly lowered the head of the bed.
Kiki pulled a pre-loaded syringe from the nearby drug cart. "I don't think I need to remind you that your body went through a major trauma, Detective." She wiped the IV port with an alcohol swab and injected the sedative. "You're not going to bounce back from it without a lot of rest." She tossed the spent syringe into the red Sharp's container. "That should make you sleep for a while."
"Were you ever married, Doc?" Danny asked, fighting a yawn.
"Once," Kiki answered softly.
"What happened?" Danny turned his head on the pillow to look at her. He blinked his eyes in attempt to focus; the room had gone fuzzy around the edges.
"Go to sleep, Detective," Kiki settled the covers around her patient's shoulders. "I'll be back to check on you later, and I expect your pressure to be down."
"Dr. Imani?" Danny yawned and sighed. "Is it weird to finally realize my marriage is truly over more than a year after my divorce?"
"No…I think I'd call it acceptance," Kiki acknowledged. "And that can often be a long time in coming."
"It sucks," Danny muttered. He sighed again, his body relaxing as the sedative made its way through his system.
"Agreed," Kiki chuckled. She lowered the lights and stood in the doorway until she was sure the detective had finally fallen asleep. Stepping outside, she softly closed the door behind her. She frowned in puzzlement. The guard who'd been posted at the door when she'd entered was gone.
She pulled out her cell phone, flicking through the contacts until she came to Lt. Commander McGarrett's name. She supposed it was possible HPD had pulled the guard from Danny's room, but given Steve's concern for his partner's safety, she didn't think it likely.
As she put the call through, a young man with a bouquet of flowers approached Danny's door.
"Is this…" he peered down at his paperwork, "Detective Danny Williams' room?" he asked.
"I'm sorry," Kiki said, "you'll need to leave those at the admitting desk. I'm not even sure how you got up here. This is a private floor."
"Look, can I just leave the flowers with you?" the man shoved the flowers towards her. "I still have five deliveries to make before noon."
"No, you cannot," Kiki held up one hand to stop the delivery man from approaching any closer.
"Dr. Imani, is that you?" Steve's voice sounded from her phone. "Is everything okay?"
"Danny's fine, Commander McGarrett," Kiki answered into the phone as the young man grudgingly walked back towards the elevator. "But did you have the guard removed from Detective Williams' room?"
"No, I didn't," Steve answered worriedly. "Are you saying he's not there?"
"That's correct, Commander," Kiki replied.
"I'm on my way right now. Can you stay with Danny until I get there?" Steve asked.
"Of course," Kiki nodded.
Steve hung up and she slid the phone back into her pocket, using the time to peruse some test results on her tablet. Eight minutes later, the guard returned to the door. Four minutes after that, Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett stormed around the corner.
Kiki gave the Commander a small wave as she headed back towards her office, cringing inwardly for the police officer at the door. Something told her he was about to have a very bad afternoon.
For as long as Danny could remember there were two constants in the Williams' household. The smell of his father's cigar wafting up from the back porch in the evening, and the clack of his mother's knitting needles from the living room downstairs.
His sister Connie maintained their mother managed to retain her equilibrium and good nature by transferring all the worry and frustration caused by four rambunctious children and a firefighter husband into the yarn itself. Over the years mounds of scarves, baby blankets, quilts, and sweaters had made their way into Christmas presents and church rummage sales. And if the act of knitting had given their mother a sense of peace, the vision of her sitting by the fire, her hands steadfastly working the needles, had also given her family a sense of comfort.
It was the steady clickety-clack of the needles that slowly brought Danny back to awareness. Woozily he rolled over and blinked his eyes. His mother sat in a chair at his side, fingers busily weaving through yarn and needles. "Hi Mom," he murmured sleepily, smiling over at her. "What are you making?"
Margie smiled back at her son and set her knitting aside. "A shawl for your cousin Dana's little girl," she replied, leaning over the bed to drop a light kiss on Danny's forehead. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her hand lingering on his cheek.
"I'm okay," he shrugged. "I feel a little sluggish, but I think it's the sedative Dr. Imani gave me."
Margie nodded. "She thought you might sleep through the afternoon."
"What time is it?" Danny asked.
"About one thirty," Margie chuckled. "Even when you were a boy you never did sleep through naptime. Now Mattie was a different story. That boy would have slept from dawn to dusk had I let him." Margie's blue eyes saddened a moment. Then with a slight shake of her head she picked up her knitting needles and sent Danny a broad smile as her fingers once again returned to work.
"Mom, don't," Danny glanced at his mother with concern as he reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, stilling them. Margie dropped the needles into her lap. "You don't have to pretend everything's all right, you know."
"Everything is all right," Margie squeezed Danny's hand between her own. "Now that I know you're going to be okay."
"I'm sorry," Danny said softly. "I'm sorry for scaring you these past few days. And I'm sorry -" he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Danny," Margie leaned over and brushed her fingers through his hair. "Stop it."
"I couldn't make him stay, Mom," Danny whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Sometimes, no matter how you try, you can't make someone do what's right, Daniel," Margie said firmly. "Look at me, son."
Obediently, Danny opened his eyes and glanced up at his mother.
"I will always love Matthew, just like I love all of my children. That love is and always will be unconditional, no matter what they do. But your brother made his own choices. And let's be clear, they were bad choices. You did everything you could to help him make the right one, Daniel, but it's not your fault he took the wrong path. That guilt is not your burden to bear - it's Mattie's, and Mattie's alone. Understand?" Margie lightly stroked Danny's forehead with her thumb.
Danny nodded, his mother's words and touch giving the comfort even Rachel hadn't been able to provide. "Do you think he'll ever come home?"
"I hope so, Danny," Margie smiled sadly. "And if he does, we'll be there for him."
"After I kick his ass for causing you and Dad so much pain and worry," Danny grumbled, wrapping his fingers gently around his mother's hand.
"I love you," Margie grinned, shaking her head slightly at her son.
"I love you too, Mom," Danny smiled around a yawn. "I'm glad you and Dad came out here. I've missed you."
"Nothing would have kept us away, Danny," Margie said, continuing to gently massage Danny's forehead with her thumb. "Go back to sleep."
Danny's eyelids fluttered, his blue eyes growing heavy. But a knock on the door followed by Steve stalking inside wearing what could only be called his aneurism face, brought Danny fully awake. His father followed Steve inside, a takeout bag in his hand. He closed the door behind them.
"What is it? What's going on Steve?" Danny pushed himself to a sitting position.
"It's probably nothing," Steve shook his head, stopping at the foot of Danny's bed. He cast a guarded look in Margie and Frank's direction.
"If it's nothing," Danny narrowed his eyes and waved a hand at his partner, "then what's with the face?"
"I told you Danny, I don't have a face," Steve crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at his partner.
"Does this have something to do with the dressing down I saw you give to that nice young officer posted outside the door?" Danny's father asked.
Danny arched an eyebrow at Steve. "Is said officer still lucid or has he gone catatonic?"
"Office Kalaka decided it would be okay to leave your door unattended for twenty minutes while he took a call from his girlfriend," Steve answered in disgust. "I simply explained to him what would happen if such a breach of protocol occurred again. I believe he got the message. And no," he rolled his eyes at Danny, "he's not catatonic."
"But you don't think Danny's safe here, do you?" Frank asked, glancing worriedly at his son.
"I'm rationally concerned," Steve admitted. "A florist's delivery guy got right to Danny's door and was about to walk in when Dr. Imani stopped him. The delivery checked out, but I spoke with Dr. Imani, and she believes Danny's stable enough that she could release him later this afternoon."
"I want you guys to go home," Danny glanced at his parents. "I know you were planning on leaving in a few days anyway, but I think you should leave tonight. If the guy who attacked me and Steve makes another move, I don't want you getting caught in the middle of it."
Frank and Margie gazed unhappily at each other, but nodded.
"If it'll ease your mind for us to go back to Jersey tonight, we will," Frank said. "But be careful, Son."
"I will, Dad," Danny promised.
"If you guys will excuse me, I've got a few things to take care of, I'll be back later," Steve waved and left the room.
"You should eat," Danny motioned towards the now forgotten takeout bag.
"Are you hungry?" Margie asked Danny.
"No," Danny shook his head, lying back against the pillows. His stomach ached and truth be told, he wasn't sure if it was the lingering effects of the head injury or the fact that his parents were leaving in several hours. He wished they'd had some time together outside his hospital room.
"What are you thinking about?" Margie cocked her head at her son.
"I was just thinking you guys need to come back," Danny looked up at his parents. "Spend some time with me and Grace and actually have a chance to see some of the islands." He chuckled ruefully. "I'm sure Steve would love to act as tour guide."
"You just tell us when, son. We'll be here," Frank grinned. "Margie always wanted a vacation in Hawaii. Now we've got a good excuse."
"You have to promise me one thing," Danny said, staring at his parents in grave seriousness.
"What's that?" Margie asked, glancing at Frank in trepidation.
"I beg of you, don't ever tell that to Steve," Danny entreated them. "As far as he knows, you think this is a pineapple infested hellhole, without a decent slice of pizza. And the only reason you'd visit is because it's the home of your darling granddaughter and son."
"You got it," Frank smothered a laugh.
"Thank you," Danny smiled gratefully.
"I think maybe you should rest for a bit," Margie suggested. "You're going to have a very busy day ahead of you."
Danny yawned and nodded, letting his mother tuck him back under the covers. He supposed it didn't matter if you were eight or thirty five, parents had a way of making everything seem like it was going to be all right. The pain in his stomach eased and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
By the time Dr. Imani had finally cleared Danny to leave the hospital it was nearly eight o'clock at night. He'd already said goodbye to his parents and Steve had run them back to his house to pack before taking them to the airport, filling Danny's prescriptions along the way. Steve wasn't back yet, so Chin and Kono had driven Danny to Steve's house and gotten him settled. He'd resisted going to bed, instead insisting they get him up to speed on the investigation into his and Steve's attacks.
Danny lay on Steve's couch in the living room, a stack of pillows at his back and a blanket across his legs. His head throbbed. He rubbed at his forehead, his fingers skirting the narrow bandage that still encircled his head. "This is making my head hurt…more."
"You doing okay there, brah?" Kono looked up from her laptop. "I think Steve left your pain meds in the kitchen."
"No, I'm fine," Danny waved a hand at her. "I'm just trying to wrap my mind around this twisted trail of evidence that is leading us absolutely nowhere: Erik Varnell, despite being the only person who'd clearly benefit from Steve's and my demise, denied any involvement in our attacks. He does admit, however, to killing Matthew Tignor on Teer's orders. And then, for no apparent reason, he offs himself. To date we've found no evidence that he had either the means to pay for the hit on us or the opportunity to order it."
Danny pushed his arms under him, levering himself higher against the pillows. He huffed slightly, steadfastly ignoring the slight tremor in his arm muscles. He didn't care if it was normal for people who'd had brain surgery to experience fatigue. Just because it was normal didn't mean he had to accept it. He closed his eyes and told himself the room wasn't spinning.
"Max says the autopsy on Varnell is inconclusive," Chin said, placing a glass of water and a bottle of pills within easy reach of Danny's hand. "He can't definitively say whether or not Varnell was murdered. However, the day after 5-0 became involved in the investigation of Varnell's death, a prison guard named Jacob Tolliver walked off the job and emptied his bank account. His bank records show a fifty thousand dollar wire transfer from an account in the Cayman's the same day Varnell supposedly committed suicide. Tolliver is no where to be found, but there's no record of him leaving the islands either."
"Everything circles back to Jimmy Teer," Danny opened his eyes, relieved to see that the room had, in fact, stopped spinning.
"Somebody not only built a bomb using Teer's own C4, but according to Charlie," Kono added, "they also used a design that now ties Teer to multiple bombings from the past five years. Most of those bombs took out other arms dealers or drug runners who were encroaching on his territory, but one of them cost two undercover cops their lives."
"There is no doubt someone is doing their damndest to hand deliver Teer to the cops," Danny again rubbed tiredly at his head. His eyes were also joining the party and beginning to ache. "And it has to be someone pretty high up within his own organization."
"There's an unknown player on the game board, Danny. Someone who had an interest in setting Varnell free and getting rid of Jimmy Teer at the same time." Steve said as he walked inside, closing the front door behind him. A large black bag swung over his shoulder. He walked across the room towards Danny, and, narrowing his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and peered closely at his best friend.
"Exactly," Danny lightly sliced one finger through the air. "Any thoughts as to how we're going to track said mysterious person down?" He glanced up at Steve, his hand freezing mid-motion. "What are you doing?"
"You look pale," Steve noted, gazing intently down at his partner. "Did you have that soup your mom left? Or your pain meds?"
"Did you get my folks to the airport okay?" Danny avoided the questions.
"Of course," Steve turned to Chin. "Did he eat?"
"Ah, I don't think he was all that hungry," Chin said.
"Were you feeling nauseous? Noah gave me a prescription for an anti-emetic if you are," Steve walked over to the couch and dropped the bag to the floor.
"Um, so if you guys are good," Kono arched an eyebrow at her cousin as she began edging towards the front door. "We're gonna go. HPD has a car parked outside. I'll be back tomorrow morning at seven, Steve."
"Good, thanks Kono," Steve said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of the couch. "And we do have a place to start Danny. Remember our good friends Eddie Kaina and Greg Younan? They're both out on bail. I think it's time they tell me everything they know about their boss, Jimmy Teer, and his organization."
"Wait. What?" Danny held up one finger. "Are you guys babysitting me now? And you, Steven," he jabbed his finger at his partner, "are not going to talk to Younan or Kaina without me. The last time we dropped by unexpectedly they tried to kill us."
"You, Daniel," Steve mimicked, "are only out of the hospital because I think you're safer here than there. That, and because Noah and Kiki agreed to an early release, on the condition you stay here and take it easy. Now give me your arm."
"Excuse me?" Daniel sat up straighter, outraged.
"Yeah," Chin drawled as he followed Kono to the front door, "we'll see you guys tomorrow. That is if you don't kill each other before then," he muttered under his breath.
Kono smothered a laugh as the two cousins fled the battle zone.
"Give me your arm," Steve repeated impatiently. "I have to take your blood pressure."
"You what? You have to take my what! My blood pressure? What are you, my nurse now?" Danny's eyes widened and his voice shot up an octave.
"You know, you're not accomplishing anything here Danny other than making your blood pressure fly through the roof," Steve explained reasonably. "One of the conditions for releasing you into my care was that I send Kiki your vitals in the morning and at night until she says I don't have to do it anymore."
"Is there some reason a pretty nurse can't stop by in the morning and at night to tend to my health needs, Steven? Why would you deny me that one small pleasure?"
"Why bother a nurse when I can do it?" Steve grinned. "Now give me your arm. Or I'm going to call Kiki and let her know you're being a combative patient and she should come stick you full of needles."
"You have no sense of personal boundaries," Danny stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his partner.
Steve pulled the blood pressure cuff out of the black bag. "Don't be such a baby. Come on, give me your arm."
"How do you even know how to do this?" Danny grumbled, sullenly handing his arm to Steve.
"All SEALs have basic medical training," Steve wrapped the cuff around Danny's bicep. "Besides, this is one of those automatic cuffs." He pointed to the digital tablet attached to the cuff. "No experience required."
Danny closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillows as the cuff tightened around his upper arm.
Steve whistled. "See? I told you it was going to be high."
"I hate you, Steven," Danny muttered.
"Ya know, let's give it a half an hour and we'll do it again," Steve suggested. "In the meantime, I need to take your temperature." He pulled the thermometer out of the bag.
"Give it." Thin lipped, Danny held his hand out. "I'll do it myself." He snatched the object from Steve's hand.
"And you need to drink some water," Steve pushed the glass forward with one finger. "You need to stay hydrated. Otherwise, Kiki is going to have me put the IV back in."
"Why are you doing this?" Danny raised his eyebrows at Steve.
"Doing what?" Steve asked innocently.
"Why are you making me want to kill you?" Danny asked through clenched teeth.
Steve ducked his head and gave a half laugh. "I've kinda …missed you…this…you know."
"Oh," Danny said, the steam going out of his fight.
The thermometer beeped and he shoved it towards Steve. "It's normal."
Steve wiped the thermometer with an alcohol swab and swapped it in the bag for a pulse oxymeter. He held it out. "Are we going to fight about this too?"
With a resigned sigh, Danny opened his palm, accepting the plastic finger clip. He clamped it on to his index finger. When it was done, Steve noted the results and put it away. He picked up the blood pressure cuff.
"We should try this again, probably. I'd let you do it…" Steve hesitated, holding the cuff out to Danny, "you just might have a hard time…you know…getting the…cuff on…"
"Fine. Whatever." Danny thrust his arm towards Steve. "Just do it."
They sat quietly until the reading popped on the tablet's screen.
"There we go," Steve smiled. "That's better." He removed the cuff and put it back in the bag. He pulled out his phone and texted the results to Danny's doctors.
"I may have had a little trouble keeping down the soup," Danny admitted softly.
"I kinda thought you might," Steve dug in his pocket and pulled out another pill bottle, waving it slightly back and forth. "I filled the anti-emetic. Docs said you should take it after you eat. Want to give it another try?"
"Sure," Danny sighed heavily, bracing his head against his hand.
"After you eat you should take one of the sedatives and go to bed. The guest room is made up for you." Steve lightly touched Danny's forearm, all trace of kidding gone. "You just had brain surgery, Danny. You're going to get better; you just have to give yourself a little time."
"I know," Danny nodded. "The brain surgery I can deal with." He waved his hand in a half motion towards the bandage on his head and scowled. "But did you see what they did to my hair? Butchers. I should arrest them for criminal use of hair clippers. I'm not kidding Steven. It is not right."
Steve laughed and stood up. "I'll go heat the soup."
By the time Steve came back into the living room, bowl of steaming soup in his hands, Danny was sound asleep on the couch. Steve set the bowl down on the coffee table. He reached over and pulled the blanket up, gently tucking it around Danny's shoulders. He walked over to the light switch and flipped it off. He stood a moment and looked at his sleeping partner. He couldn't bring himself to think about how close he'd come to losing Danny. But if there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty, he was going to get the bastard who'd done this and he was going to bring him down.
tbc…