|The Trust in the Silence
Author: cherryade PM
Steve looks after Danny after he suffers a concussion on the job. Turns out a concussed Danny is a quiet Danny and Steve doesn't like the silence one bit. Danny whump. Steve&Danny friendshipRated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort/Friendship - Danny W. & Steve M. - Words: 1,297 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 18 - Follows: 3 - Published: 04-08-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8002603
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Not much of a plot other than Steve looking after his concussed partner. Not intended to be a McDanno but you can see it that way if you want to. I hope it's not too OOC because a quiet Danny? The world must be spinning in the opposite direction.
Steve tapped his fingers agitatedly on the steering wheel, brows furrowed in concern as he stole furtive glances at his partner who was zoned out in the passenger seat. His head was tipped back but Steve wasn't sure if he was asleep or not due to the sunglasses Danny was wearing.
"You okay, Danno?" Steve asked for the third time since they left the hospital ten minutes ago. Danny was too quiet and Steve wasn't sure if it was a side effect of the concussion or Danny sulking because he had been injured again. Sure, Danny'd been shot, stabbed and generally beaten up before, he made sure the whole damn world knew that, but he'd never sustained a concussion, at least not in Hawaii, and Steve wasn't quite sure what to expect.
Danny merely waved his hand in a vague gesture to Steve's question, the rest of his body as still as he could possibly keep it in the moving vehicle. He hissed as the Camaro bounced over a couple of potholes in the road, a grimace crossing his features.
"Shit," Steve said, glancing at Danny who was now slumped in the seat. "Sorry, Danny, we're reaching soon. Just hang in there."
Steve eased the Camaro gently into his driveway, careful not to jostle the car more than he had to, then killed the engine. Without waiting for Steve to even pull the key out of the ignition, Danny undid his seatbelt, fumbled with the door handle and pushed the door open. He stumbled to his feet and promptly fell to his knees, retching into the grass.
"Danny!" Steve cried as he snapped his seatbelt off and hopped out of the car. He hurried to the passenger side and knelt next to his partner, rubbing his back soothingly. "You okay, buddy?"
"Bright," Danny grated out, gagging a bit. Steve felt the knot of worry in his chest loosed a bit. He hadn't realised how much he needed to hear Danny's voice which was an assurance that he was okay.
"Okay, let's head inside then," Steve replied, carefully hoisting Danny to his feet. Danny swayed, his forehead creasing into a frown, body stiffening. Slowly, Steve walked his silent partner towards the house.
Steve gently deposited Danny onto the couch, watching anxiously as he sank into the soft comfort.
"Don't get too comfortable. I'm gonna go lock the Camaro up then you're heading upstairs. Mary's old room's already made up," Steve said as he headed towards the door. He wasted little time pulling the key out of the ignition, picking up Danny's meds and locking the Camaro before sprinting back to the house.
Danny looked like he was melded into the leather, one leg dangling off the couch and a hand thrown over his eyes. He was paler than the cream walls, sweat beading his forehead and upper lip. Steve placed the keys and medication on the table before heading to his partner's side.
"Come on, Danno," Steve said as he tapped him gently on the shoulder. "Up you get."
Danny stirred, batting Steve's hands away as he curled in on himself. He let out a pained groan. Steve's worry spiked.
"Don't make me carry your short ass up the stairs," Steve said, hoping to elicit some sort of response. Instead of the spark of anger that would have started a full-blown Danny rant, Steve was greeted with silence as Danny pulled the sunglasses off and buried his face into the cushions. Steve's worry was full blown now as he pulled him gently backward and tapped him lightly on the cheek.
"Hey Danny, come on. You're making me worry."
Danny made a low sound and pried one eye open, slamming it shut again as he hissed in pain.
"Sorry, babe," Danny whispered. He tried pushing himself up with both hands but failed miserably, his trembling arms giving out on him. He would have fallen back onto the couch if Steve hadn't caught him and manoeuvred him into a sitting position. He slung one of Danny's arms over his shoulder and they made their painful way up the stairs.
Steve vowed that he would never complain whenever Danny bitched and moaned about a simple bullet graze again. Danny's silence as they struggled up the stairs was so out of character that it was unnerving. Steve twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open with his foot before supporting Danny across the room and onto the bed.
Danny sank into the soft mattress with a soft sigh.
Without preamble, Steve made his way to the windows, drawing the blinds without closing them so that some of the sea breeze could enter the room. Then, he pulled off Danny's shoes and socks, placing them neatly at the foot of the bed. He glanced at Danny, taking in the pain lines that spanned his forehead.
"Sit tight, I'll go get your meds."
Danny roused, flashing him a thumbs up sign before sinking back into the sheets again.
Steve made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of cold water out of the fridge before heading to the living room to get Danny's meds. He made his way back upstairs again, detouring to the bathroom to snag a small bucket just in case Danny felt nauseous.
He entered the room quietly, placing the items on the nightstand. Danny had the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes, his breathing coming in small pants.
"Danny?" Steve asked anxiously, placing a hand on his shoulder. Steve was starting to have serious doubts about what the doctors had said, that there was nothing else Danny could do other than to take his meds and sleep it off. Mentally, he calculated the amount of time it would take to drive back to the hospital again.
As if he had read his mind, Danny dropped his hands and cracked his eyelids open, giving Steve a small smile.
"I'm okay," he murmured. "Don't handle concussions well. Just hafta take the meds and sleep." His eyes slipped shut again.
Steve nodded, setting the bottles of medication on the nightstand in a neat row. He shook out the required dosage and helped Danny swallow the pills, washing everything down with a few sips of water. Danny smiled at him appreciatively as he melted back and relaxed almost immediately into sleep.
Steve sighed and ran a hand down his face. He downstairs and picked up a couple of magazines before heading up and sinking into the wicker chair Mary had in her room. He watched the rise and fall of Danny's chest for a moment, grateful that he was asleep and not in pain. He felt some of the tension seep out of him, tension he wasn't aware he had been carrying since Danny was conked over the head by an over-enthusiastic drug runner.
Danny would definitely be back to complaining loudly and vociferously again the moment he recovered from the concussion and Steve would once again want to permanently wear ear plugs but right now, Steve was content to flip through the latest issue of Guns and Ammo as he watched over his sleeping friend, comforted by the knowledge that he was going to be just fine.
Thank you for reading! (: