Danny Williams

Danny is not accustomed to: Hawaii heat, spam on restaurant menus, pidgin English, and waking up with too much hair, less height, and distinctly different body parts. He's too goddamn tired to put much thought to it beyond 'really wacked-out dream' and so he grunts and shifts in order to clamber on top of Steve a little more, working half his torso -- what the fuck, how is he so short, how is there so little of him? -- on top of Steve and wrapping his arms around him to get more comfortable.

"Steve," Danny mutters, voice low but clearly a bit different. "If you freak when you wake up, I'm kneeing you in the balls." And after a year of waking up next to Steve, Danny's got a pretty good read on how to do it half-asleep.

Danny has possibly strangled his hair in the time he's been waiting by Steve's bedside. He can't strangle the nurses and maybe the doctors are gonna mind if he strangles the IV tubing, so instead he takes his hands to his own hair and turned it into a genuine mess. "Holy crap," he exhales, "Steven, you are so dead when you wake up."

They've pumped him full of drugs and Danny had to wait twelve hours. They called his sister, but Danny, who is actually there had to wait twelve hours outside before the nurses let him in, and only because he flashed his Five-O badge, he's pretty sure.

His leg is jittery and he's getting a little tired of just watching Steve breathe. "You know, if you wanted to dump me, there are better ways of getting out of this besides dying," he says mildly, like that's bound to do anything.

So here's a slice of Danny Williams' life, right here. He works his ass off, he gets a limited amount of time with his daughter, he fights more than he wants to with his ex-wife, and every once in a while, his psychotic cyborg partner gets laid and ends up happy. How is that fair? How is that even in any way remotely fair to him?

Hint: It's not.

Danny can't stop scowling because Catherine is back in town. She's a fine woman, she is. Hell, if Danny knew a woman who could redirect satellites to help them catch a kidnapper, he might be inclined to fall into bed with her, too. Except she's not his woman and now Steve looks that weird distinct McGarrett version of happy and it's kind of pissing him off.

How is it that Steve McGarrett has a more fulfilling personal life than him? Danny's not the one who failed basic mammal-to-mammal interaction, and yet, he's the one getting the shaft? How, he asks. How!