haolehothead | [AU

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@ au

[AU - Hospital]

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.

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His head feels heavy, his tongue thick in his mouth. He tries to swallow and it hurts, but that's not anything close to the pain in his leg, his shoulder, the injuries the morphine only does a halfway job of hiding when he barely shifts in the bed with a soft groan.

"Danny," he sighs, eyes slowly opening. He tries to smile, but it tugs at the stitches along his jaw and so he stops trying.

Danny is made of stone and ice right now. He is a stone-ice-cold-fox of fury, but it's practically restrained as he sits there with his arms crossed. "Sorry, can I hear something? Because I don't think I hear something. I'd hear something from sane people, because I hear things on a sane scale of hearing, I don't hear insane bastards who get themselves turned into a stitch-pillow," he spits out.

The lights are bright, and he turns away from them, shifting his head along the pillow to face Danny more directly, blinking a little more steadily as his vision clears.

"I'm fine," he insists, voice cracking slightly.

"I'll be the judge of whether you're fine," Danny says with a nod, his eyes squinty, but it's mostly to take away from the fact that Danny is so fucking terrified. This is only the edge of not-terrified, but he's spent half a day thinking the worst. "You know," he says mildly. "I only got in to see you when you started rousing. I was barred from entry before."

He frowns - or starts to, but since that involves moving his facial muscles, he decides to keep that at a minimum too.

"I think Mary's my emergency contact, but she's all the way out in California," he admits, clearing his throat. "Gonna take her some time to get here."

"Funny, because that's exactly who they called," Danny says, but he doesn't bring up that it was family only while Steve was critical. "Also? Shut up," he says. "Shut up, stop talking, seriously, you're an idiot who got what's coming to him, but shut up now because now is your healing time."

"Told you, I'm fine," Steve insists, but that's only because he's trying to downplay the broken arm and the however-many stitches there are in his leg.

"You should see the other guy," he adds, lips barely twitching.

"See the other-" Danny trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I saw the other guy. I booked the other guy. Why are you such an idiot!" he shouts, really giving his lungs a good workout yelling at Steve. "Your arm is broken, there are stitches in your leg and your face and for twelve hours of medically induced coma, I kind of maybe thought you were gonna die! So shut up, Steve!" he finishes, losing a little bit of his emotional control (not that he has that much to begin with). "We're fine!" he booms out at the nurse who comes to check on them.

"Danny, you're yelling," Steve mutters, squinting a little at him, though part of it's due to the bright lights in the hospital room. "You're really yelling. And I took him down because someone had to, and I wasn't about to let you go in on your own."

"I know I'm yelling, I own these lungs, I know when they're yelling!" he says, even louder than before and if it hurts Steve's head, then good, he deserves it, and so on and so forth. "You weren't...Backup, Steve! Backup!" Danny stands, needing to pace out the angry before it consumes him completely. "Chin and Kono send their best. They went home after the first twenty-four hours."

Because first there'd been the surgery, then the coma, and now, well, here Danny is thirty-four hours of lack of sleep later.

"You should sleep too, Danno," Steve points out, shifting his arm along his stomach to a different place resting at his side, watching him pace around the hospital room without moving his head.

"You look tired."

"Nuh uh, no way," Danny says forcefully. "And leave you alone? No. You'll charm a poor unsuspecting nurse and get yourself out of here just so you can go paraglide on your broken leg or something else of that level of idiocy. No, I am your keeper, you got that?" he says, pointing fingers all along the way and pacing with great determination.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises, eyes tracking the back-and-forth of Danny's movements.

"Well, if you're not going to sleep, at least have some coffee."

"You probably drugged the coffee with sedatives," Danny scowls, but he ends up back in his chair, dragging it forward so he can sit at the very edge of the bed where Steve is within arm's reach. "I don't know how, but I'm sure you did." He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. There's been no product in it for over a day and it's a disaster at this point. "Jesus, Steve. I may be young and virile now, but you're gonna give me a heart attack one day."

"Not exactly the means by which I was aiming to get you all worked-up, Danno," he whispers, chancing a smirk.

"I"m here, and I'm alive, and I'm in one piece," Steve says, as firmly as he can muster up at this point.

"One piece?" Danny scoffs, sinking forward and letting his posture slouch completely. "Steve, you are riddled with stitches that are keeping you in one piece." He really isn't about to let that go. "You scared the fuck out of me, Steve. Hell, I'm still scared," he admits. "I haven't been this worried since Rachel had Grace."

That part sinks in almost immediately, and Steve sighs, reaching over with his good arm to slide fingers along Danny's wrist, stroking slowly.

"Guess I'm still getting used to this 'having a partner who worries' part."

"How is this new? I have been your partner for ages now, how is any of this new?" Danny demands. "And if you say it's because we have sex now, I will break the other arm." He leans forward into the touch, though, because he is not made of stone and he is just so fucking exhausted. "You should call your sister. The hospital's been leaving messages with her."

"Knowing Mary, she's probably already on the plane by now," Steve considers, giving Danny's wrist a small squeeze. He looks up at him, knowing that if Danny feels this bad that he probably looks even worse than he feels.

"C'mere."

"C'mere where? Where c'mere?" Danny demands, giving Steve a long look of incredulity. "Where am I coming, you're in traction, practically. You can fellate my wrist with your fingers all you like, but there's a limit on how much c'mere I can give you."

"Just - "

He sits up against the arranged pillows and leans in, tilting his head up where Danny's is slumped down, brushing his lips against the disheveled hairline before he sits back again, sighing quietly.

Danny lets out an exhale of a sigh, like the tension is bleeding out from his body from the moment that Steve kisses him. He lets his eyes droop slightly and leans forward to press a light kiss to Steve's lips, running his fingers through his hair. "Your mouth is stitched, even," Danny cracks. "How are you an overachiever when it comes to getting injured too, huh?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Steve says, lingering close in Danny's space for a moment, closing his eyes. He presses another quick kiss to his partner's mouth and smiles, testing the limits of his facial expressions.

"Feel a little better now?"

"Slightly," Danny sighs out the word, like he doesn't actually want to give Steve this kind of pleasure. "I should probably go home. Kono said she'd take over once I lost my patience."

"Sleep," Steve coaxes, giving him a look that's meant to be reassuring.

"You can't be around to worry if you're not rested first."

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