Notes:
Here it is, the final (and by far longest) chapter – I hope you enjoy :-)
Thank you so much for sticking around until the end, for all the reviews and alerts!
I cannot express my gratitude to montez for all the time and effort she put into my story, a great big Thank you / Mahalo / Dankeschön to you, you're the best!
Coming to slowly, Danny tried his best to ignore the unnerving beeping of his alarm clock. He wanted nothing more than to silence the annoying sound, but he could barely muster the energy to open his eyes, let alone raise his arm.
He didn't know what hurt the most, his head, his chest, his right leg, or any other part of his body. Danny Williams had been to enough famous and infamous New Jersey parties to tell that the one he'd obviously been at was either a very good one or a very bad one.
The beeping was still there; God, how he hated that stupid sound. Danny frowned slightly, his mind sluggishly starting to work. Since when did his alarm clock wake him with some damn beeps? He preferred to be woken by music; it had taken him days to find a radio station on this hellhole of an island that didn't play fancy ukulele noise but some good old rock music.
Danny took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in his chest and the dull throbbing in his head. He could live with the headache but his lungs were burning like hell, it felt as if he had tried to finish that stupid Ironman competition in less than 8 hours. Licking his dry lips, Danny swallowed a few times against the furry feeling in his mouth, while slowly opening his eyes. He grimaced when the bright light caused another spike of pain in his head.
Tiredly he focused his gaze on the white ceiling above him until he finally came to the conclusion that this was definitely not his little apartment. With the rhythmic beeping continuing in his ears, he cautiously turned his head toward the sound. Danny's brain still wasn't working properly, he needed almost a full minute to comprehend what he was seeing.
A heart monitor, great. Danny sighed quietly, he hated being in a hospital so much, especially when he had absolutely no idea why he was here. He didn't know what time it was or how long he had been lying here. Danny watched dazedly the green figures on the screen, blinking slowly as he tried to remember what had happened, but his mind was only a murky pool of thoughts and feelings.
He didn't remember waking up the evening before or the havoc and chaos that brief trip to consciousness had caused. Getting no response from his partner had almost put Steve over the edge and the twenty minutes wait in the corridor in front of Danny's room, while the doctor checked on the change in condition, clearly hadn't helped his sanity. Even after the doctor assured him that everything was alright and Danny was finally on the way to recovery, Steve plainly refused to leave the hospital. Danny was totally oblivious to all the shouting, demanding and, last but not least, begging on McGarrett's part until finally the doctor reluctantly allowed him to spend the night at Danny's bedside.
Danny swallowed again, trying to get rid of that ugly dry feeling inside his mouth; his gaze fell on the call button that seemed to be way out of reach. He would kill for something to drink but even the thought of moving his hand was almost too much.
Apart from that he only wanted to learn why he was lying in a hospital bed before he allowed himself to get back to sleep. Turning his head away from the monitor, Danny scanned the room for any indication that might help him clear his thoughts and decipher what had happened. On the other side of the bed he found his partner, slumped in a chair, sleeping in a position that at least looked uncomfortable. McGarrett's chin was resting on his chest, his arms crossed in front of him. Frowning slightly, Danny noticed the large bandage that covered Steve's entire right arm. What had his idiotic partner done this time?
Danny took a closer look, deciding that his partner definitely looked worse than he felt, which meant a lot because Danny couldn't honestly remember if he had ever felt more wretched than right now. Steve's complexion was paler than usual, a sharp contrast to the dark stubble around his mouth and chin, and even while sleeping he looked dead tired. Danny wondered briefly how on earth Steve's hair could look so messy despite its shortness.
With an almost unbearable effort Danny managed to raise his hand; trying not to move the oxygen cannula under his nose, he hesitantly touched his face. Judging from the stubble on his own chin, he guessed that he'd been out for at least three days. No wonder Steve looked like hell, Danny supposed his partner had probably insisted on staying at his side the whole time.
He let his hand drop back to his side, his eyes slowly closing from exhaustion as a movement caught his fading attention. Steve stirred slightly in his chair, causing Danny to try hard to fight back the sleep, staying awake a few more moments. Danny saw McGarrett blink tiredly a few times before slowly raising his head, his gaze settling on Danny.
The two men locked eyes and for a long moment nothing happened. Then Steve jumped up from his chair, the tiredness that had surrounded him vanished within the blink of an eye as he stepped closer to the bed. "Danny?" his voice was both unsteady and joyful as he anxiously waited for any reaction. "Hey."
"Hey," Danny replied but it was more a rasping sound than a real word.
Nevertheless McGarrett's face lit up, he briefly closed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief before he grabbed Danny's right arm and squeezed tightly. "Oh God, Danny, it's good to have you back, man. Are you alright? How do you feel? Do you need anything?"
Hearing Steve's babble and seeing the expression at his face, Danny slightly furrowed his brow. Wow, must have been even worse than I thought. He tried to ask what happened but all that came out was a croaked, "Wha…?" Danny licked his lips, blinking tiredly as he painfully cleared his throat.
Steve immediately released the grip on his arm and reached toward the bedstand, picking up a glass of water. He offered Danny the straw, smiling slightly as he saw the expression of relief spread across his partner's face.
Danny took a few sips, the cool water felt glorious and the feeling helped him to gather the tiny bit of energy he needed to stay awake a little while longer. His gratitude must have been visible since he saw the smile on Steve's face increasing as he whispered, "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Steve replied placing the glass back on the bedstand. He fiddled with it a little longer than necessary, the smile slipping from his face as he swallowed heavily. He took a deep breath before hesitantly returning his gaze to the bed, pretending not to notice the scrutinizing look in Danny's eyes.
In the last few months of their partnership Danny had learned a lot about Steve McGarrett and he soon found out that the former SEAL wasn't one who would openly talk about his emotions. But Danny had quickly figured out how to read his face, which honestly hadn't been too difficult given the fact Steve wasn't very good at masking his true feelings.
Despite his exhaustion Danny took a moment to study McGarrett's face, finally coming to the conclusion that it was showing a mixture of guilt, fear and embarrassment. The dull headache wouldn't allow him to find an appropriate name for that particular face, so he decided to just ignore it for the moment, asking hoarsely with a little nod of his head, "What happened?"
Steve took a deep breath, unconsciously rubbing his left hand over his bandaged elbow, "What do you remember?"
Danny blinked slowly, slightly shaking his head as the first pieces of the puzzle finally clicked in place. "Gracie's school… Hank Philips… explosive devices…" he said hesitantly, his eyes suddenly widening in shock. "Oh no, the building was blown up? What about the other hostages…" Danny's voice trailed off as his heart started to race and he tried desperately to suck in enough air.
"God no, Danny, nobody was blown up, bomb squad was able to deactivate all the devices before Philips could set them off." Steve's hand was back on Danny's arm, squeezing gently as he threw him a worried look. "Calm down, okay? Just breathe slowly, everything is alright, do you hear me?"
Danny nodded slightly as he tried to follow the advice, concentrating only on his breathing and Steve's hand that was lying warm and heavy on his arm. A few deep breaths later had Danny's heart rate back to normal and he managed a small smile in Steve's direction.
The last of his energy spent, Danny wasn't able to stay awake any longer. He felt his eyelids drooping as he gathered the last of his strength, whispering, "Tell me later… 'm too tired to care right now…" Feeling another reassuring squeeze on his arm, Danny closed his eyes and let sleep finally claiming him.
The next time Danny woke up, his headache was almost gone and the pain in his chest had reduced to a slight pressure, only noticeable when he took a particular deep breath. He felt much more alert than before, even if his mind still needed some time to adjust to his surroundings.
Danny opened his eyes, groggily glancing at the white ceiling. The light that came through the window was dim, telling him that it was probably late afternoon. Over the typical hospital odor of antiseptics and illness Danny could smell something else, smiling slightly as he recognized the fragrance Kono used to wear. He had always liked the hint of fruits and wood, a discreet smell that perfectly suited the young woman.
Danny let his gaze travel around but the only other person in the room was Steve, standing in front of the window, absently looking outside, oblivious to the fact that Danny just woke up.
Staring at the silhouette of his partner, Danny struggled to arrange his scattered thoughts, trying to remember what had happened. He recalled the meager information he had gathered earlier, his hand moving unconsciously to his right thigh in an attempt to ease the dull throbbing that spread through his leg. Danny gasped involuntarily when all the memories returned in one fell swoop, an unwanted flood of feelings and thoughts, washing over him with an intensity he almost felt physically. He sat up, but the movement sent a sharp ache through his thigh, causing him to drop back onto the pillows. Closing his eyes, Danny breathed deeply through the pain, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to relax his cramped muscles.
A touch on his shoulder startled him, his eyes snapped open as he heard Steve's voice, "Whoa, easy, Danny, you alright? How do you feel?" Danny gaped at his partner who was throwing him a worried look as he adjusted the bed so that Danny was able to sit up comfortably.
"You shot me!" Danny exclaimed hoarsely, adding without really thinking the next thing that came to his confused mind. "How do you think I feel?" he snapped.
Steve's hand dropped from Danny's shoulder as if he'd been burnt, involuntarily taking a step back from the bed. Both men stared at each other, so many different emotions clearly written all over their faces, Steve's showing mainly guilt while anger and fear fought for dominance on Danny's face.
"God, Danny, I'm so sorry, I… I didn't mean… I… you…" Steve stammered as he sank in the chair next to Danny's bedside. He ran his left hand over his face, closing his eyes to avoid Danny's glare.
"Steven, please, could you speak in complete sentences?" Danny asked impatiently, his voice laced with anger and exhaustion. "Your stammering is not really helping here. Just… just tell me what happened, okay?"
Danny threw an expectant look at McGarrett but before Steve was even able to answer, Danny stopped him with a flick of his hand, "No, wait, first of all I have another question, one that should be easy to answer, even for you." He waited until Steve looked up, meeting his gaze. "If I remember correctly, that little episode at the school was on Thursday, so what day is today? Friday? Saturday?" He inhaled sharply as he saw the tormented expression on Steve's face, involuntarily raising his left hand to the stubble on his chin. "Sunday?"
"It's Monday evening," Steve whispered, his answer causing another sharp intake of breath on Danny's part.
"Monday?" Danny repeated breathlessly. "So, I've been… what? In a coma for four days?" The anger in his voice was now giving way to fear as he slowly asked, "Steve, what the hell happened?"
Not able to hold Danny's gaze any longer, McGarrett averted his eyes, staring at his intertwined hands in his lap as he finally started to give an overview of Danny's perilous condition over the last few days, risking only sporadic looks at his partner.
An awkward silence filled the room after Danny cut short Steve's explanations after only a few sentences with a poignant gesture and the words, "That's enough information, Steven, I really don't need to know exactly how bone marrow cells are clogging the blood vessels in my brain and lungs." Danny felt a small shiver run down his spine. "That's kind of disgusting."
"Danny, you…" Steve swallowed heavily, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. "You've got to believe me, I never…" But again he was interrupted by a sharp gesture as Danny pressed the next words through clenched teeth.
"Would you please shut up? Just give me a few minutes to clear my head, okay?" Danny felt a pressure building up in his chest, knowing that he would not be able to keep his voice level if Steve said even one more word. He didn't want to yell but right now he was too agitated to trust his voice any longer, so he just pressed his lips together, trying to sort out his feelings.
He saw Steve's eyes resting on him for a few more heartbeats until McGarrett finally lowered his gaze, leaning forward in his chair, staring at the floor between his feet. Danny watched as Steve rested his elbows on his knees, noticing how he avoided putting too much pressure to his right, bandaged arm.
Danny took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut as let his head drop back onto the pillow. He didn't really know what he was feeling at the moment; sure, he was angry but he assumed that the anger was only masking what he actually felt, because if he was honest, more than everything he was simply scared right now, scared that he had come so close to death. Danny knew that it was probably wrong to direct his anger toward his partner but then, after all, Steve had been the one who had pulled the trigger.
Why for heaven's sake had Steve done that? Why hadn't he found another, less dangerous way to resolve the situation? Damn, he was some badass SuperSEAL, he was supposed to come up with better solutions than shooting his own partner.
In the back of his mind, Danny already knew that Steve's action had probably been the only possible one to save his life, but he wasn't yet ready to accept that fact. At the moment he was still too scared about what could have possibly happened; hell, he'd almost died from a stupid little gunshot wound in his leg.
Thoughts and feelings swirled inside Danny's head, causing the headache to resurface with a dull throbbing in his temples. He raised his hands to massage the pain away when Steve's voice reached his ears. "Danny, could you just say something, please? Anything?"
Hearing those few whispered words were enough to finally put Danny over the edge and he couldn't help but vent his feelings. "What the hell were you thinking, McGarrett? Did you even think for one little second? You know, inside your head, that thing called brain… feel free to use it now and then!" With every word Danny's voice increased in volume while his hands erratically waved through the air. "Did you actually have a plan or did you just wildly fire shots, hoping to hit anything, preferably me? Did you want to prove that you are indeed completely nuts?" Staring furiously at Steve for a few more seconds, he let his hands drop down onto the sheets before taking a deep breath, stating tiredly, "Well, Steven, I honestly don't know what else to say at the moment."
Danny rubbed his hands over his eyes, the tenseness from before slowly leaving his body. He hadn't known how much the whole situation truly bothered him and the yelling definitely helped sort out his feelings.
As his memories slowly returned, he remembered not only the lunatic look in Hank Philips' eyes but what that bastard had done to poor Miranda and a wave of grief washed over him as he thought about the loss of that young life. Danny also clearly remembered the sight of the other poor guy's body in a pool of blood and how close he'd come to ending up the same way. Danny had experienced firsthand Philips' ferocity, the dull throb that shot through his left cheekbone whenever he opened his mouth was an unwelcome reminder of his encounter with Philips' weapon. He'd felt from the very moment Hank Philips had produced that butterfly knife that the whole situation would be a matter of life and death, he could still feel the sharp, cold blade against his throat.
Danny directed his gaze toward his partner, Steve seemed to have slumped down in the chair, and even if Danny couldn't see McGarrett's face he looked exhausted and powerless.
Danny tried to recall the last few moments inside the school building before the agonizing pain in his body became his main focus, remembering the look in Steve's eyes, it had not only been determination he'd seen but also fear. Danny knew in the depths of his heart that Steve would do anything to protect his team and that he didn't shy away from taking unorthodox measures if the situation requires. Danny didn't know if he would have been able to do what Steve had done if their roles had been reversed. Would he have been able to pull the trigger? He honestly doubted that he would have found the strength to shoot at his partner.
Heaving a deep sigh, Danny struggled to swallow down the last remaining anger and fear. Even if he had been the one who had been physically injured, Danny could see that right now it was Steve who desperately needed some encouragement and comfort.
Noticing a small change in McGarrett's posture, Danny noisily cleared his throat, waiting for Steve to finally look up. Their eyes met as Danny asked quietly, nodding toward Steve's bandaged elbow. "What happened to your arm? I don't remember much after I got hit and I don't think you were injured before."
Steve's gaze darted between his right arm and Danny as he straightened in his chair. "Broke my elbow when I tried to catch the remote control from Hank Philips," he answered vaguely.
Raising his eyebrows, Danny replied, "Care to elaborate your explanation a little bit?"
Steve fidgeted in the chair, delaying his answer for a few heartbeats. "After I… well, after… you know," his voice trailed off as he threw a meaningful look at Danny's right leg.
"After you shot me," Danny testily chimed in, he was no longer on the verge of yelling but his patience was still worn thin. "Just say it, Steven, it's not going to be any less true just because you refuse to speak it out loudly."
Steve swallowed forcefully, not able to meet Danny's gaze as he whispered, "After I shot you…"
"Good boy," Danny praised sarcastically, flicking his right hand. "Now on with the story."
Glaring defiantly at his partner, McGarrett continued, "Well, Hank Philips threatened to set off his explosive belt, he was about to release his grip on the remote control and all I could do was try to reach him before he dropped it."
Danny frowned as he recalled some blurry memory of Steve tackling Philips but the shock and pain he'd been in clouded his capacity to remember and he wasn't entirely sure if that had really happened. "So you did what?" Danny asked hesitantly, trying to read the expression on Steve's face. "Knocked him down while he could have blown up the whole building in the twinkling of an eye? Are you crazy?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Steve answered nonchalantly, "It worked."
"Yeah, it did," Danny sighed, rolling his eyes at so much blind faith. Again he nodded towards Steve's arm, "I still don't get how you managed to break your elbow. And if it's really broken, why don't you have a cast?"
"When I went for the remote control, Philips and I crashed to the ground and unfortunately said ground was harder than my elbow."
"No shit Sherlock," Danny muttered, gesturing Steve to continue talking.
"I got some wires to fix the bone, no big deal," Steve tried to downplay his injury. "I'm not allowed to carry things for about six weeks, but I need to move the joint regularly. So physiotherapy is scheduled and swimming will also help to regain normal functionality."
"Lucky you," Danny's voice still held a hint of sarcasm. "Now you even have a medical reason to go for your crazy early morning swims." He shifted his weight, trying to find a more comfortable position, careful to not jostle his injured leg too much.
Both men sat in silence for a few minutes, Danny let his gaze travel over Steve, who stared out the window, looking a little more relaxed and composed. He seemed to have regained some of his power, the guilt on his face no longer as obvious as before. Chewing on his lower lip, Danny pondered for a moment his next course of action but finally came to the conclusion that it would do neither of them any good to avoid the main topic any longer.
Bracing himself for whatever the next few minutes would bring, Danny took a deep breath and asked, his voice as neutral as possible, and asked, "So, if you're going to shoot me again in the next six weeks, you'll have to use your left hand?"
Steve turned his head with a jerk, locking eyes with Danny for a mere heartbeat before again lowering his gaze. "That's not funny," he whispered.
"No, it's not, Steven," Danny replied with a sigh, uncomfortably rubbing his left hand over the rough stubble on his chin; man, he really could do with a shave. He watched McGarrett pressing his palms against his eyes, bent forward in his chair, breathing deeply in and out for almost a full minute. Danny was about to raise his voice when his partner finally pulled himself together.
Squaring his shoulders, Steve straightened in the chair and settled his gaze on Danny, his eyes full of emotions, his voice low but firm. "Listen Danny, as much as I would like, I can't undo what happened." Maintaining eye contact with Danny, McGarrett clenched and unclenched his fists a few times before he continued solemnly, "What I did seemed to be the only possible way to protect you, but you have to believe me, I never intended to hurt you so badly. The plan was…"
"Oh, you did have a plan?" Danny interrupted, the words left his mouth before he was even able to fight them back. "So, what was the plan? Killing me before Philips had the opportunity?"
"No!" Steve jumped up from the chair, forcefully running his left hand through his hair as he glared down at Danny. "The plan was a clean through and through, I just wanted to remove you from the game," he explained enraged.
Furrowing his brow, Danny repeated, "Remove me… remove me from the game? What are you, my football coach?" He stared at Steve, shaking his head as he mumbled under his breath, "Well, kudos to you, McGarrett, you obviously did a pretty good job there."
Danny sighed, noticing the stony expression on Steve's face, the anguished look returning to his eyes. Swiftly waving his hand toward the chair, he said gently, "Sit back down, you freak." Danny waited for McGarrett to stiffly take a seat, taking the time to clear his thoughts before he continued, "There is one thing you should know about plans, Steven. They're great until the second you put them into action."
There were a few moments of silence until Steve replied, "You sound like a fortune cookie, you know that?" Danny could see the corners of Steve's mouth twitching slightly and without hesitation he returned the small grin. The silence that filled the room was no longer overwhelmingly depressive but now held a hint of sympathy and friendship.
"If you didn't intended to kill me, I guess you did it to save my life?" Danny asked after a while, carefully stretching his stiff limbs. "Well, I'm glad it worked."
Instead of answering straight away, Steve stood up to switch on the lights; the afternoon had turned into evening and the light from the window was almost gone. He didn't return to the chair but remained next to the door, leaning his back against the wall, his left hand protectively supporting his broken elbow. Taking a deep breath, he said hesitantly, "Listen, Danny, I don't know…"
"Hey, it's okay, I understand." Danny interrupted once more. "You have nothing more to say. It's okay."
"It's okay?" Steve asked disbelievingly, his voice now stronger, laced with a hint of anger. "It's not okay, Danny. You almost died because I shot you. How can that be okay?" He looked up to meet Danny's gaze, searching a moment for the next words. "I don't understand you. Remember the very first day we met?"
Rolling his eyes, Danny nodded his head; how could he ever forget that day?
"You were giving me shit because the bullet from that Fred Doran guy just grazed your arm, I mean, honestly, it was barely a scratch, but you ranted for hours. Hell, I still don't know if my apology was ever accepted. And now, I…" Steve swallowed heavily, "I shoot you. You almost died, and it's… okay?" He covered his eyes with his left hand, whispering, "How can that ever be okay?"
Closely watching his partner, Danny pondered a moment, trying to find the right words to express what he felt. "That thing with Doran was a stupid risk," he finally said slowly and clearly. "This time was completely different. Don't you understand, Steve? I trust you and even if I vehemently deny it if anyone ever asks, I trust your crazy Rambo instincts as well." Danny tried to catch Steve's eye but his partner still hid behind his hand. "So, if you came to the conclusion that shooting me was the only possible way out of this mess…" He shrugged his shoulders as he continued, "Well, I think I'll simply accept your decision."
Steve was still not willing to give up his defensive posture, but Danny could already see the cracks in his cocoon. He waited a few more moments until he finally noticed a slight relaxation of Steve's tense muscles.
"Look at me, you goof, and listen to another burst of my ever-lasting wisdom," Danny grinned briefly as he heard McGarrett snort quietly, waiting patiently for Steve to remove his hand and open his eyes. "Choices aren't always easy, Steven, sometimes you have to choose between two crappy alternatives." Danny sighed, running his hand through his hair. "You just did what seemed right at the moment."
"Thank you, Danny," Steve whispered, blinking rapidly against the emotions he suddenly found difficult to fight back. Hesitantly he stepped closer to Danny's bed.
Danny nodded in return, but there was one question on his mind he needed Steve to answer. "Just tell me one more thing." He pensively licked his lips, his right hand unconsciously rubbing over the wound in his thigh. "Be honest, Steve, would you do it again?"
"Yes," Steve answered earnestly and without hesitation, even if it meant he would lose Danny's trust and probably his friendship, because he knew that he would do anything to protect his partner's life. "Yes, I would," he repeated, slowly raising his head, his eyes burning, his jaw tight. He looked directly into Danny's eyes, not sure how to decipher the emotions he saw there.
McGarrett didn't know how long they stared at each other when Danny finally nodded, saying quietly, "Thank you for saving my life, Steve."
"What?" Steve rasped, clearing his throat before he continued confused. "I thought…"
"Don't think too much, McGarrett." Danny shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. "That's not good for that little brain of yours."
"But I don't understand…" Steve frowned, trying to sort out his thoughts.
"You don't really listen when I talk to you, do you?" Danny chuckled, seeing the confused expression on Steve's face. "I think I taught you that if someone saves your life, it's appropriate to say thank you." His voice took on a serious tone when he continued, "So, once again, Steven, thank you for saving my life."
Steve stared at his partner for what seemed like an eternity before he finally blinked a few times, "Uh, you're very welcome." A smile spread across his face, feeling as if someone had just lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders.
Danny also smiled, trying to stifle a yawn as he let his head sink back onto the pillow. He felt utterly exhausted, blinking tiredly when the door suddenly opened and a young, dark-haired nurse peeked inside. Her face lit up when she noticed that Danny was awake. "Detective Williams, nice to see you awake. I'll be back later to check on you." Turning toward Steve, she added friendly but firmly, "Commander, you know the rules. Visiting hours were over ten minutes ago."
Before either Danny or Steve could answer, she disappeared, the door closing silently behind her. They exchanged surprised looks but before long Danny yawned again, finding it extremely difficult to keep his eyes open.
"Danny?" He must have closed his eyes because the next thing he was aware of was Steve's hand gently squeezing his arm and his quiet voice. "I'll lower the bed so you're more comfortable." Seconds later, Danny felt the bed moving beneath him, sighing happily, he snuggled deeper into the sheets.
There was another squeeze on his arm and Steve's voice, again gentle, "Sleep tight, Danno. I'll be back tomorrow."
"Wait, Steve, before you go." Danny forced his eyes open, squinting tiredly at his partner. "I truly hope we will never ever face a situation like that again, but if…" Danny interrupted himself to make sure he had Steve's full attention. "Just make sure that you'll at least try to find a solution that is less painful, okay?"
Steve nodded, a bright smile played on his lips, "I prom…"
"Whoa, wait, don't say that!" Danny exclaimed as his eyes snapped open. He stared disbelievingly at his partner, explaining grumpily, "Don't you know that saying 'I promise' will bring bad luck?"
"What?" Steve asked dumbfounded, the smile slipping from his face.
"Steven, for heaven's sake, don't you ever watch a movie?" Danny asked exasperated, fighting back the tiredness long enough to clarify his point. "In movies, whenever someone says 'I promise' everything goes downhill from then on. 'I promise I will be back soon' … boom, the guy gets hit by a car. Or 'I promise you will be safe'… next scene we see the killer approaching." Blinking tiredly, Danny gathered the last of his energy to glare at McGarrett. "So, Steven, never ever say 'I promise', okay?"
McGarrett shook his head, sometimes he really didn't get Danny's sense of humor, but then he wasn't so sure if Danny was really kidding or not. However he couldn't help but grin, after almost four days of waiting and worrying, it felt so good to finally hear his partner ranting again. "Isn't that a bit superstitious?" Steve asked good-humoredly, watching Danny's futile fight against sleep.
"Just… don't say it, okay?" Danny murmured with a last look at Steve before his eyes slowly closed.
"Okay, don't worry, I'll never say 'I promise'…" Steve chuckled, not able to swallow down the next words. "I promise, Danno."
Danny managed to open one eye, glaring again at McGarrett despite his exhaustion. "You're doing this on purpose, right? Trying to drive me crazy with all your defiance and your infantile behavior." He shifted in the bed, grimacing at the pain that shot through his right leg. "You might think it's superstitious but I can prove that saying 'I promise' leads to disaster."
"Oh, you can prove it?" Steve asked grinning. "Go on, I'm all ears."
Sighing, Danny raised his hands to rub his eyes, not even trying to hide the huge yawn that built up inside him. Blinking away the tiredness, he asked slowly, "You remember the phone call I had with Gracie before this whole mess started?"
Steve nodded hesitantly, not really knowing where this would lead but eager to hear Danny's explanation.
"I promised Grace to practice with her for her play this weekend and look what my promise was worth…" Danny's voice trailing off, his hand waving through the air.
"You promised?" A mischievous grin spread across Steve's face. "So it's all your fault?"
Narrowing his eyes to mere slits, Danny replied smartly, "Oh no, no, no, Steven, don't try to put words in my mouth. It's definitely not my fault that you shot me."
The banter between the two men – between the two friends – came almost naturally. Despite the pain and exhaustion, Danny felt completely at ease at the moment, and Steve's whole posture told him that his partner felt exactly the same way.
"Go home, Steve," Danny said yawning. "You look like you could use a few hours of sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." With a smile on his face, he finally closed his eyes, determined not to resist the urge to sleep any longer.
"I'll be here, Danno," Steve confirmed, once more squeezing Danny's arm as he added quietly. "E kala mai ia'u."
"I don't know what that means, Steven," Danny replied tiredly. "Could you either shut up or speak in a language that civilized people like me can understand?"
"It means that, contrary to your belief, I do listen when you talk. If you get someone shot, you apologize, right?" Steve couldn't help the huge smile that spread across his face, he was just so damn glad that Danny was alive. His voice was filled with so many emotions, he would never know how to express them all. "E kala mai ia'u means I'm sorry, Danny."
McGarrett looked down at his partner, who finally seemed to have succumbed to sleep. Trying to avoid any noise, he tiptoed toward the exit, cautiously pushing down the door handle.
"Your apology is accepted, Steve," Danny's whisper barely audible, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. He never saw the smile on Steve's face growing even bigger, already softly snoring when his partner left the room, silently closing the door behind him.
THE END