"Okay, Steve. Deep breath," Dr. Vega said, pressing the stethoscope to Steve's chest. "Again. One more time."

That time, Steve fell into a harsh coughing fit that sounded painful.

"All right," Dr. Vega sighed. "It's pneumonia. I'll get an x-ray to confirm, but I'm sure. The good news is we've caught it early, so I'm confident we can get it taken care of quickly. I'm going to change antibiotics again—"

"Fantastic," muttered Steve.

Dr. Vega chuckled. "Who knows, Steve, maybe your stomach will tolerate this one better?"

Steve snorted in disbelief.

The doctor patted his patient's shoulder. "Well, we can hope, right? We'll do oxygen as you need it, breathing treatments every few hours, antibiotics, and we'll knock this thing out. How's that sound?"

"Good," Steve said, coughing again. "When can I go home?"

Dr. Vega shook his head and grinned. "We're already to that point?"

Danny laughed. "Doc, you're lucky he's lasted this long. Normally it's pretty immediate."

Steve ignored his partner. "When?" he asked again.

"Soon. Be patient. You need to be fever-free or close to it and able to keep down food. I want to see a good bit of improvement in your breathing. The gunshot wounds are looking fine, so they won't be a problem."

"So, tomorrow?"

Danny and Callie rolled their eyes.


It took a few days for Steve to meet Dr. Vega's requirements, but he was finally released. He was still slightly feverish and coughing, moving slowly with his arm in a sling, but he insisted he would rest better at home and the doctor agreed.


Callie had been around long enough to know she could expect the team that evening. They'd drop by one by one, saying that they just wanted to stop by to say hi and check on their leader. Each one would stay, though, then the next one would arrive and the next and suddenly the living room would be full and dinner would be either ordered or prepared. No one would leave until late…or possibly not at all. She smiled as she puttered around the kitchen and thought of his—no, their—ohana. She went ahead and put on coffee, anticipating their arrival.

Hearing Steve beginning to stir in the living room, she grabbed a bottle of water, a granola bar, and his medication. She perched on the edge of the couch as Steve woke.

"Hi, Commander," she said softly as his eyes blinked open.

"Mmph," he gave a soft groan. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Sore." He coughed and sniffled, looking at her sheepishly. "Not really okay. Kind of icky."

Callie laughed. "Did you just use the word icky?"

Steve nodded sleepily. "M' shoulder hurts too."

Just then there was a soft knock at the door and Callie went to open it, finding Danny with his arms full of groceries. "Hey," he greeted her with a smile. "How is he?"

She moved aside so he could come into the house. "Says he feels icky," Callie said, grinning. "It's not funny that he feels bad, but a 6'2" Navy SEAL using the word icky is pretty comical."

Danny chuckled. "Yeah. I'd say so." After dropping the bags in the kitchen, he returned to talk to Steve. "Hey, babe. Not feeling so great?"

"No." He winced as he adjusted himself on the couch, cradling his arm so his shoulder wouldn't be jostled by the movement.

"It's time for more medicine, but you're going to have to eat something first," Callie told him.

He made a face. "'M not hungry."

"Oookay," Callie said slowly. "I understand that. But you understand that if you don't eat, you will throw up. Do we want to go down that road again?"

"No. Prob'ly will anyway though." He blinked tiredly at her.

She looked at him sympathetically. "Your stomach is just no good, babe."

"Never has been," Danny commented.

"Ugh. Let's not talk about it."

"I brought you a granola bar. Just eat a little of it, then you can have your medicine and go back to sleep. Deal?"

Steve gave a tiny nod and accepted the bar from Callie, eating half of it then taking the antibiotics and pain medication.

Danny and Callie watched as the tenseness in Steve's body slowly eased and he drifted to sleep.

Lou came next, followed by Chin, then Kono, then Jerry and Max. Nahele arrived a bit later with Kamekona and Flippa. When Steve woke up, he kept his eyes closed for a few minutes just listening to his ohana. They were trying to be quiet but were failing miserably. Danny was fussing at all of them in a hushed whisper as he cooked. Whatever Danny was cooking smelled wonderful, and Steve was surprised to find himself a little hungry. Danny had once accused him of liking to fix broken toys—meaning the people in their ohana—and Steve had never given it any thought until now. He did like it, he guessed, though he never went into a situation with that purpose in mind. He just wanted to help, that's all.

"What's up, babe?" Danny asked as he came into the room. Of course, Danny had realized he wasn't asleep.

Steve opened his eyes and smiled. "Just thinking. I'm lucky to have this ohana. I never thought I'd have a family again."

Danny nodded, looking around. "You created this, babe. We wouldn't all be here if it weren't for you. You've made a world of difference in every single life here, and we're all better for having known you. And now we've added Callie to the ohana, and I couldn't be happier for you. You deserve all the good things, babe. All of them."

Steve shook his head, unsure of how to respond. "Thanks, Danno."

He looked around the house, smiling at the group of people he'd surrounded himself with over the past few years. None of them were broken anymore.

And neither was he.