Pain.
Steve didn't know where he was, or how he'd gotten there, but the one thing he was very sure of was the fiery pain that seemed to have engulfed his shoulder, throat, and abdomen. This was not the best way to wake up in the morning.
Wait. Morning?
...What day was it?
He cracked opened his eyes a bit, then instantly shot awake as he realized he was not, in fact, at home, or anywhere he recognized. Everything was white, and the sun was too low in the sky, and there were people he'd never seen and—
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Super-SEAL."
And there was Danny, seated by his bed with a calculating look on his face. "You're in the hospital, Steve," the detective added seriously, watching Steve's face, "but unfortunately for me, I'll have to endure you and your psychosis for a while longer, because the doctors say you're going to live."
There were so many things wrong with this situation, and Steve blinked rapidly in an effort to absorb everything. He was in the hospital. He was okay. Danny was here. It was safe.
Steve's heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest.
"Steve, babe, look at me." Danny's face was a mask of earnest concern, "Breathe, okay? You're fine. We're all fine."
But no, that wasn't right, Steve was sure of it. Danny's voice was uncommonly hoarse. And where were the others? How had he gotten here? What happened?
God, his head hurt.
"What—" he started to ask, reaching up to run a hand down his face, and abruptly stopped, because his arm wouldn't go any higher.
"What the hell?"
Shit, Danny had not been looking forward to this conversation.
He'd been kind of hoping to avoid it, kind of hoping that Steve would just settle back down into sleep, like he had all the previous times he'd awoken.
Because this coming discussion? If Steve had been in a funk before this whole ordeal, then this was just going to bring him to a whole new level of terrible.
"What do you remember, Steve?" Danny asked, ignoring the unpleasant burn in his throat as he spoke and focusing instead on Steve's face.
The ex-SEAL's expression was one of horror, though he'd finally managed to tear his gaze from the handcuffs securing his left hand to the bed rail. "Danny," Steve croaked, anxiously searching his partner's face, "why am I...? What happened?"
"Okay, then I'll take it you don't remember much of anything," Danny sighed, absently rubbing his throat. Steve caught the motion, though, and if possible, his eyes widened.
"Your neck..." Steve's gaze suddenly sharpened, his tone becoming demanding, "Danny, what happened to you? Who did that?"
The Jersey detective could see the anger and blood-lust brewing in Steve's eyes and oh yeah, this was not going to be a fun conversation. How was Danny supposed to explain to Steve that it was—
He was getting ahead of himself. Stupid super-SEAL, he always seemed to have this infuriating ability to derail Danny. This needed to be taken one step at a time.
"I'll ask again: what do you remember?"
"Danny—"
"Goddammit, Steve, would you just answer the question?"
Cowed was the only way to describe Steve's expression. The ex-SEAL swallowed, nodded hesitantly, and leaned back, resting against the pillows. He closed his eyes in thought; several minutes passed, and Danny thought momentarily that Steve might have actually fallen asleep, before the commander's eyes snapped open, and he blurted, "Case!"
"Alright, good," Danny replied, nodding, but couldn't help adding sardonically, "I'm pretty sure you didn't injure your head, though, so let's see if we can graduate to full sentences."
Steve shot him a glare that, even coming from a hospital bed, was admittedly pretty intimidating. "We got a case," Steve went on, scrunching up his face in concentration, "something about drug dealers and hostages." Danny nodded, and Steve continued.
"It was a wharf set-up...there was gunfire..." Danny saw something unrecognizable flash across Steve's eyes, but then it was gone, "...and then...then..."
Steve squinted, frowning like he was putting a supreme effort into sorting out his thoughts, then sighed, sinking defeatedly into the hospital bed. "I can't remember anymore. I'm sorry."
Danny simply hummed in affirmation. "I wasn't sure if you'd remember that much, honestly," he admitted, "you were, ah, pretty out of it."
Steve's gaze snapped over to Danny sharply, a silent order for explanation. Danny exhaled heavily, settling into his chair for what he knew was going to be a long, unpleasant talk.
Woo, one day, three updates! I am on a roll! :D
Btw, apologies to the more sensitive of you for the language. Deal with it.