I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: sorry for the delay. Yah - still sick. Thank you for all your well-wishes. I got hammered this time around by the flu. Hope this meets happy ending expectations for much bromance. Not beta'd - any errors are my own. Please let me know if you see a glaring mistake anywhere.

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

Even though the storm had cleared, in the end, they almost decided not to leave the house at all. Almost. At first, Danny's initial argument that he felt better, fell flat no matter how hard he tried to convince himself of the lie. Steve blatantly disagreed until met with Danny's second point that any emergency room would be chock full of true emergency related victims. That fact did give him due pause. A fever or flu hardly constituted an emergency and truth be told, neither wanted to be bothered with a wait that could literally take hours.

"We could get sucked into working, too," Danny added, completely relieved that Steve was reluctantly concurring. He slapped his friend's hand away though as it came too close to his forehead. He didn't feel better and he could imagine what he looked like. Haggard, tired and no doubt very much like a convalescent. Lying on a sofa under a blanket didn't do much for making a stand and his palm continued to ache beneath its bandage, but Danny dug in.

"All the nuts come out ... I'm just not up to dealing with it. But ...," his finger came up warningly as he remembered that he hadn't actually seen Steve's injury. With that one move, he began to negate each and every one of his own previous arguments. "How bad is that scratch ... exactly? Do you need stitches? Are your ... insides ... still in?"

Steve raised a comical eyebrow at the glib question. He'd nearly bought in on all of Danny's arguments; each of which were sound. He certainly didn't want to deal with an ER overrun by real storm-related victims or be subjected to the potential crazies who might have thought a grand time to be had by the power outages. However, they both needed medical attention and a dutiful round of antibiotics for their dual wounds. And he, for one, could likely accommodate a few stitches.

"Okay, Danno," Steve remarked while tugging the blanket from his friend's legs. They were fooling themselves and they both well knew it as Danny moaned his failed objections. "Let's go ... get dressed. Either the ER or we call our over-eager medical examiner for a favor. But to be fair, asking Bergman - or anyone - to drive out here after the storm we've had isn't right. I can only imagine what the roads are going to be like so let's just get this over with."

"Is that your way of saying that your innards are falling out?" Danny griped miserably as he allowed Steve to pull him to his feet.

"Nope," Steve laughed lightly. "I think for once though, we'd better suck it up and get checked out. Why delay the inevitable?"

"Since when were you ever the voice of reason?" Danny said suspiciously. He lifted the hem of Steve's shirt and poked gently at the bandage, a spot of dried blood just evident towards the middle. "You do need stitches don't you?"

"It's worth a look-see," Steve replied, grimacing at Danny's instant apologetic expression. "Enough! I said it's not a big deal ... and I meant it!"

"Fine," Danny said. He wasn't at all happy about what had gone on over the last many hours. Faulty memory and limited information did little to make him feel better; plus he was borderline embarrassed for the few actions he could recall.

"You know, Steve. I am really ..." Danny started up again, a wry shake of his head forestalled by his partner's overly dramatic sigh.

"No!" Steve admonished him. "Enough with the apologies too. Seriously!"

"Fine," Danny said reluctantly.

"Fine!" Steve laughed as he pushed his friend towards the bathroom. "Freshen up ... change ... do whatever it is that you ... do and let's get out of here!"

The forty-five minute trip to the hospital took them nearly an hour and half. Detours, flooded out roads and downed everything - from trees to power lines - had them constantly renegotiating their trip. By the time they arrived, both were on the exact same page of throwing in the towel and returning home. But then, they had gone that far, so why change course now?

"We should've stayed home," Danny complained as he sat slouched in a chair in the waiting room. They'd been there an hour and had yet to be seen. "They can't do anything for the flu anyway."

"Hand," Steve amended quietly as he tapped the sagging bandage he'd put on Danny's injured palm. "We both need to be looked at; antibiotics. But I told you that we should have pulled rank," he said. "We'd been in and done by now."

"Oh and excuse me?" Danny instantly objected the idea of using their Five-0 status to jump the queue. "Bump the old woman who tripped over her cat? Or maybe the kid with the busted arm? Or, I know ... how about the pregnant woman?"

Thirty minutes later though, with a druggie's forearm levered against the back of his neck hard enough to slam his head into an exam room wall, Danny was ruing his sarcasm and wishing he'd allowed Steve his druthers. "Would've been home by now," he muttered disgustedly to himself, wincing not only from the painful pull in his right shoulder, but the goose egg-sized bruise he could literally feel growing on his temple.

"Totally, should have been home by now."

His injured left hand, newly bandaged, was braced against the wall just an inch from his own nose. The doctor he'd seen had assured him that he was over the worst of his sickness and that he'd be fine for his son's upcoming tests. On his docket was a simple plan of rest and hydration; advice to speak to Charlie's doctors as a final sanity check. But other than that, the feedback had been wholly calming.

Now stitched and bandaged, antibiotics in hand, they were both done and on their way out. They'd been on their way home until someone else in the waiting room had lost his patience. Gun in hand and years of drug abuse telling in his eyes, the older man had sent everyone scattering. Everyone except for him and Steve.

"Crazies," Danny mumbled virtually into the wall. "We were so close ... I just want to go home."

Behind him, he knew Steve was incredibly close, he just didn't know precisely where he was. There was only one good reason why his friend hadn't acted, too. Steve wasn't likely to do a blessed thing with the six year old boy sitting right there out in the open. A little dark-haired boy who'd been so bravely waiting for his arm to be cared for in the hubbub of the overly crowded emergency room.

Perched on the edge of a gurney as he waited his turn, not so much as a tear had been shed, though his eyes were shiny and frightened. But now, the little guy had been inconceivably stranded alone where he sat, people having scattered at the onset of the unprovoked attack. Suspected broken arm cradled in his lap, eyes as big as saucers and bravery soon to be damned, Danny's resolve was shattered as the tell-tale sign of a watery sniffle reached his ears.

"Steve," he calmly called over his shoulder. "Steven."

He'd had enough and the child's fear was the absolute last straw. He didn't feel well, wanted to go home and the sniffles from the little boy had begun to get louder. It only made him think of Charlie and his temper flared. Growling angrily, Danny helplessly tried to push off the wall, failing when his drug-addled, sweaty and desperate attacker leaned into him, torquing the bend on his shoulder even more. The muzzle of the gun he held now embedded into Danny's hairline, the tremor of his hand obvious as he toyed with the trigger.

"Shut ... up," the man said, his voice quaking in Danny's ear. "Shut up ... or I'll rip your arm off! I want ... my stuff ... tell them ... to bring it!"

There was a noise then. So soft that Danny was positive that only he'd heard it. Despite the heavy nasal breathing of the man who so rudely invaded his space, Danny clearly heard Steve. It could have been the subtle sound of an inhale, or maybe it wasn't a sound at all, more of a feeling. It didn't matter either way, because Danny simply knew where Steve was then. Danny's head was turned to the left, but he knew that Steve was there, just a few feet off to the right. Behind one of the blue privacy curtains. So close. Incredibly close and absolutely ready for Danny to do something.

Peering downwards as best as possible, Danny eyed the bare toes of the slippah-wearing man. Step one was rudimentary at best, but sometimes the most simple of things was all that was needed. He closed his eyes at the same time he softened his knees as a bit of a test because what he was going to do in steps two and three would undoubtedly hurt. He'd almost certainly have a bruise on the back of his head to match the one on his temple. The druggie's arm shifted as he sagged a bit, loosening its tight grip and giving Danny a bit more room to maneuver. The muzzle of the gun also lost contact with his head as Danny's small change in posture disrupted the man's unsteady grip.

A definite plus there, too.

If he timed it all correctly, there was no doubt that he'd be sending the druggie backwards a good two or three feet - four if he got his aim precisely right - directly back into Steve's waiting arms. The gun was the issue; there was always a gun and Danny winced again as too many other bad outcomes raced through his mind.

There was a second inhale then, one that almost communicated a bit of concern for the split-second delay and Danny simply reacted. His left foot came up to crunch mercilessly down into the druggie's exposed toes. Barely a pained gasp made it from the man's lips and Danny was already exploding backwards, his head rocketing into the soft cartilage of the broad nose and an elbow neatly colliding with the burly chest.

Danny didn't wait to see what Steve had planned after that. His final goal was clear: the six year old boy.

"Hey, little man," Danny said as he carefully plucked the child from the gurney and made for the closest, protected corner. "Let's just go over here for a minute so the big bad Navy SEAL can play a game. Huh?" His head was swimming dizzily with the delayed reaction of having collided now backwards with that of the drug dealer. Fore and aft he was achy and utterly displeased by his ongoing physical woes, but he smiled reassuringly as the boy wrapped his one good arm around his neck.

Noise clattered around them, trays fell and a gurney may have toppled over, but nary a gunshot was heard and for that, Danny was utterly relieved. As sniffles drowned in his chest, Danny soothed and murmured calmly to his small charge. The entire time, he stayed in that corner, his body bowed protectively around the boy, until he felt Steve's hand on his back. His clue that all was finally right with the world.

"Nicely done," Steve murmured quietly as Danny turned to face him, slumping into a seated position, the child now tucked into his chest. From the little boy's ongoing frightened expression to his partner's pale complexion, neither looked particularly interested in moving. So Steve hunkered down lower, his hand just shy of his own recently stitched wound.

"Are you two okay?"

"I think so. You?" Danny asked, impressed that the sniffles hadn't turned into a show of tears, justified as that would have been. He looked at Steve's side, rolling his eyes skywards at the shrug which meant Steve was also generally unscathed before he gently shifted the boy in his lap, mindful of the child's injured arm. "Hey? You're so, so brave ... are you okay? Is your arm okay?"

The boy nodded, his eyes still just as big as he looked trustingly from Danny to Steve. With his bad arm still held tightly to his side, he patted Danny's shoulder to ask one very important question. "Are you super heroes?"

"Steven," Danny instantly warned his friend as the jaw-dropping grin split Steve's face wide. He had visions of any number of wise remarks falling from Steve's lips, including a comment or two about a particular red cape from Halloween's past.

"Oh come on, Danno," Steve gushed warmly as he rescued the child from his partner's lap. "It's a reasonable question." He stood and passed the boy to the closest doctor before helping Danny to his feet. Then he stopped and made his friend sit one final time to make sure that he wasn't the worse for wear, the small purpling bruise on Danny's temple not something else he'd needed added to his list of troubles.

"I'm fine," Danny argued as he batted Steve's hands away from his face, only staying still for the few minutes it took a second doctor to concur. "It's a tiny bruise is all ... if your innards are still in ... can we please ... please go home now?"

"Yes, Danno. Everything is still where it's supposed to be," Steve said as he draped his arm companionably over Danny's shoulders. "Home sounds good to me."

As they left the ER, he followed Danny's gaze towards the little boy who was now sitting with his parents, surrounded by well-meaning doctors and nurses. They'd already been forgotten as the boy prattled on about how his arm had been broken at home.

"I need to make a few calls," Danny said softly, a mild unease teasing his subconscious. He knew both Grace and Charlie were fine, but he needed to really know for sure. He needed to hear their voices and he said as much. "See how they managed through this ... make sure things are okay."

"I'm sure they're all okay, but yeah, you need to call. Power might still be an issue, but lets give it a try." Steve nodded in agreement, his smile entirely reassuring as they left together for the truck. "We can drive over if you're worried, too. But Danny, the important thing is ... is that you'll be there for him. You will and it'll all be okay."

"Thanks," Danny said as he got settled in the truck. "Really ... thanks, Steve." There wasn't really much else he could say as he watched Steve from the passenger seat. It was hard for him to stop saying how sorry he was for what he'd done. Steve continually refused any apologies and was generally content no matter how Danny tried to slice and dice what had happened over the last many hours. So a simple round of thanks seemed like the next best option.

But then Steve barely needed the thanks as he smiled Danny's way, the wide and happy grin clearly enough.

~ END ~