Steve flashes back to his previous return from the mainland. He sat here frozen, much like he is now. Except then texts from Danny piled up. That time, Danny had travelled to Jersey to visit his family. How could he be that close and not see them? Steve hadn't been ready. He'd been in no shape to be happy. To be loved. Not by anyone except Danny, who'd barged into his hotel room and commandeered half his bed and all of his heart. There was no denying it after that. Yet he wasn't ready to feel anything other than numb back then. Doris was dead. He'd lost his mother for real. He'd watched her die. There one second and gone the next.

"Steve?"

Danny stands in the doorway. Sweats and one of Steve's shirts. Steve smiles.

"Yes, it's one of yours. And before you - well, you left me in charge. That includes your wardrobe."

"No complaints, Danny. Looks good on you," Steve says. He tilts his head and gets a better look at his best friend. The shirt is ancient, one of his favorites. Blue with Navy on the back. There's a hole along neck line on the left shoulder. It's travelled with him for many missions. He's surprised he left it behind. Then he remembers the urge he'd had to run. He sucks in a deep breath and forces himself to be present in this moment. He's safe and home and not going anywhere.

"This old thing? Why, Steve McGarrett, are you flirting with me?" Danny fingers the bottom hem. He straightens his stance and sobers a little before he adds, "You feel like swimming?"

They stare at one another. Steve is exhausted. No swimming for him. He's not sure he has the stamina to do anything strenuous. He doesn't have to say a word. Danny reads his mind.

"Breakfast, babe? You look like you need some fuel."

"Coffee?" He raises his eyes with his question. He's surprised when the movement doesn't come with the echo of sinus pressure. Small miracles. He really does need the caffeine, though. It's what keeps him going most days. Something he fears he needs to work on limiting. He'll wait for doctor's orders. "I saw the French press on the counter."

"You know it. And don't make me say you were right about the coffee being better," Danny says. He grins and holds out his hand. "Come on, you."

Steve nods and pushes off the bed. The world sways. Danny steadies him with a gentle hand on his lower back. Steve braces himself for a scolding that doesn't come. He takes a deep breath and smiles, closing his eyes for a second. He's safe. Danny's safe.

Danny guides them toward the door and says, "I called your doc. Set up an appointment for 3."

"They're open this early?" Steve frowns. He tries to compute the time by looking at the light coming through the windows. It's bright, and he shields his eyes.

They stop just before the steps, and Danny chuckles, "It's eleven thirty, babe. I let you sleep. And believe you me, I've checked on you twice."

Mouth open, to say words that vanish instantly from his mind, Steve marvels at this revelation. He slept more than twelve hours. That's never happened.

"Let's get you some food," Danny nudges Steve and they continue their trek to the kitchen, "How are you feeling?"

"Good. No headache," Steve replies, and he realizes it's true. He's not lying to make Danny feel better. His familiar companion is gone. He'll take even a short respite.

"Whoa, take it slow. You were just dizzy upstairs. Don't push your luck."

Steve pokes Danny in the ribs.

"Ha Ha. Very funny."

The note of surliness in Danny's voice mixed with fondness hits Steve in the gut. It's like old times. If Danny's grouchy, it means he cares. Steve is grateful. His eyes water.

"Don't get all sappy on me. I'll cry, too," Danny says. Now, he is a little grouchy. Steve enjoys it. He knows it's wrong.

He mumbles under his breath with a smile, "My loveable curmudgeon."

"What?"

"Nothing," Steve says. He wants to continue this conversation to full-on bickering, but can't do it. Pressure creeps just above his eyes. Not quite a headache, but – fuck – it could become one.

"Uh huh," Danny answers, "Maybe it takes one to know one."

Danny laughs when Steve rolls his eyes. The sound takes his pain away for a few breaths. Long enough for him to make it to the couch. Eddie thumps his tail and jumps off. He runs toward the kitchen. Steve bites the inside of his bottom lip to keep the tears at bay. He's never been this emotional. He blames Danny's liver.

"Give him time, babe. He's become quite the diva in your absence. Everyone spoiled him."

Nodding, Steve covers his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes. He feels like a failure. Danny rattles on, providing comfortable background noise.

"Junior dropped him off at 0 dark thirty. I caved and told him you were here. He promised to keep our secret, but believe you me, he wasn't happy. I'll never hear the end of it. Huh, Eddie?"

Eddie stands in the doorway, tail wagging. Steve's heart breaks all over again. He hated leaving any of them, but at least his human friends could try to understand. Eddie – well, Steve could only imagine what his dog felt. Abandoned again by his master.

"He'll be fine, Steven," Danny reads his mind, "He's mad at me for not sharing my bagel. I blame Tani for his new obsession with carbs. Don't worry, he gets extra walks to keep the weight off."

Leave it to Danny to know just how to soothe him. A deep breath helps to clear his head. Tears streak his face, and Steve smiles as he exhales a stuttered, snotty sigh. How did he get so lucky?

"You big softie," Danny sits beside him on the couch, drapes his arm over Steve's shoulders and pulls him close.

/././

I've got a few chapters ready to post for this story, so I may post every day this week. If my schedule allows. I've got end of the year stuff and an exam keeping me busy. Thanks, as always, for reading and supporting me.