Author: Tara aka LovinJackson
Summary: Set after Season 1. Ep 12. When Steve falls sick after their latest case, the team rush to find out what has caused this sudden illness.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-O, Steve McGarrett or Danny Williams or any of the other characters in this awesome show. Although a girl can wish right? Just borrowing for fun :)
Authors Note 1: Hey People! First off I just want to apologise for this lengthy authors note. It's been a while. I remember the days when I was always posting some SPN story here regularly. I would love to post something with a bit more regularity but for now I am just celebrating that I have SOMETHING ready to post.
My new love is Hawaii Five-O, not replacing Supernatural of course, but it was something that I just had to write for. And for anyone that knows Steve and Danny and the rest of the new version of Hawaii Five-O … I'm sure you'll understand this new addiction. So here I am … hope I don't totally screw up their characters. It's a learning curve but I hope my love for the characters, the new show and the friendship at least comes through LOL
This story is dedicated to a good friend of mine called LISA who recently did a really fantastic thing for me (she gave me the opportunity to meet Scott Bakula … I mean seriously? Can't ever pay that back properly LOL) This doesn't even begin to pay back what an awesome time I had because of her but I know she shares my love for Steve and Danny and the show so, Lisa, this one is for you my friend.
This story should have about 4-5 chapters and I hope to post on a fortnightly basis. This is the plan.
Need to thank my mother and Angelustatt (my lovely bestie) for their help and support while writing this. Thank's guys.
Chapter 1. Mele Kalikimaka
Steve McGarrett gasped awake, springing into a sitting position. He could still hear the shots in his head, his father's orders ringing in his ears.
Whatever these people want, Steve … don't give it to 'em. Don't you give it to 'em!
Steve blinked, one lone droplet of sweat ran into his eye and he rubbed at it shakily, closing his eyes. He leaned forward and brought up his other hand to his head, allowing his upper body to support itself as he held his head in his hands.
My brother's dead … isn't he?
The conversation ran through his mind as clear as the day it had been held between himself and Victor Hesse. He could smell the fumes from the exploded vehicles around him, he could smell Anton Hesse's blood on his hands.
Then so's your father!
Steve jumped, the sound of the gunshot echoed through his head as if he had actually been on the phone. Steve groaned, running both his hands through his short dark hair. It was sweaty and he felt gritty like he'd gone to bed after being in the field all day without showering. It had been a hot night and the room felt stuffy … of course maybe that was just his head; too much was going on in there.
Steve looked up at the ceiling. It held no answers. He wasn't even really sure what the questions were. Victor Hesse was in jail. His father's murder had been solved, the murderer caught. But Steve didn't feel any better. He didn't feel any better at all.
Tossing aside the sheet covering his lower body, Steve shuffled to the side of the bed and pushed himself to his feet. He walked over to the bedroom window and and opened it. He needed some fresh air, he needed to clear his head.
There was no breeze, no relief outside that window. There was nothing but dead air and black night to accompany him in the wake of his nightmare.
Steve placed his hands on the window sill and dropped his head to his chest, closing his eyes once more. He opened them again almost immediately. The darkness behind his eyelids only made way for the sounds of that day to be loud and clear.
"Jesus..." he muttered to himself as he pushed off against the window sill and turned around, wavering a bit on his feet, his back to the window and the dark night.
He hadn't dreamt about his father's death for a while. Why now? The case was over, Hesse was taken care of. He had done his job. He had saved Chin from Hesse's explosive device and taken down his father's killer. Why was he now plagued with a sleepless night?
Steve padded into the bathroom, flipping on the light as he did so. He squinted at the glare from the light, not expecting for it to hit his eyes so hard.
It felt like he'd been in the dark for days, making his eyes extra sensitive. Only he hadn't. It had only been four hours before that he had been with his team, helping Danny celebrate Christmas with Grace. There had been lights and cheer and smiles and laughter … and love. Danny's love for his daughter was something that warmed his heart. It was something he had wished he'd had with his own father and something he wanted to make sure that Danny could continue giving to Grace.
Heading over to the sink, Steve frowned and pressed a hand to his stomach as a sudden sick feeling washed over him. But that was wrong too. It wasn't sudden. It had been there all night. He'd been ignoring it, enjoying himself in the wake of his small little unit being safe and he'd only felt a little off … nothing that really required any further attention, or so he had thought.
Swallowing thickly, Steve leaned forward, reached out and turned on the faucet. Cold water rushed through the pipes and out of the tap. He cupped his hands under the cool liquid and brought the small pool to his mouth. He drank and then repeated the action once more before the third small pool cupped in his hands splashed over his face.
Droplets of water hung off his eyelashes as he looked into the mirror. Steve frowned again, this time at his appearance. Despite his overly pale skin, his cheeks were tinged pink with fever. He raised his hand and ran the back of it across his forehead. He was hot. Steve blinked at his reflection as it seemed to blur for a moment.
"Great," he muttered to himself. "Just what I need." He didn't have time to get sick. His father's murderer might have been caught and put behind bars but his mother's was still out there.
He was still trying to wrap his head around that. His mother's car accident hadn't been an accident. His father had known, all this time he had known and he had kept it to himself.
Steve didn't know whether to feel angry at his father for not telling him, or whether he should reserve all that anger for the person that had taken her from them. This confusion was almost worse than anything.
Steve splashed some more water on his face and then reached blindly for the towel he knew was beside the sink. He wiped his face dry and then dropped the towel onto the sink, letting it hang off the side as he turned around and walked slowly out of the bathroom.
Taking one look at his bed, Steve felt the insatiable need to just go lie back down but he couldn't. He knew what he would find if he tried to go back to sleep. He wasn't all that keen to revisit old nightmares.
Instead he veered off in a different direction. He headed out into the hall and looked over the guard rail. Placing his hands on the wooden railing, Steve tried to quell the vertigo that suddenly hit him. He hadn't thought his landing was up so high before.
Steve stayed there for a moment, getting his bearings. He hadn't felt this off in a long time, not without some answer as to why he was feeling so bad. Removing one hand from the railing, Steve pressed it against his stomach. He swallowed thickly once more and tried to will his body to obey him. He waited until he thought nausea had abated and then shook his head, trying to clear his vision.
It was getting cloudier and cloudier. He blinked and then continued on. He made sure to keep one hand on the railing as he made his way down the stairs. It was like they were moving, swaying, one wrong step and he would crash to the bottom.
Stopping half way down, Steve clung to the rail. "Whoa..." he huffed, his breath shaky.
Somehow he made it to the bottom without breaking his neck or loosing his dinner. He was under no illusion that both were a miracle. Bypassing the living room, Steve staggered into the kitchen and almost crashed to the floor as he miscalculated, his hip connecting with the corner of his dining table.
It was getting hotter, like someone had turned up the heat. His head felt so stuffy that he was tempted to stick it in the freezer for some relief. He knew it had been a hot Christmas but had Hawaii had a sudden peak in temperature? This was ridiculous.
Steve grabbed his stomach again as it felt like he was about to lose his dinner once more. A sudden sharp pain making itself known, combating with the nausea for attention. He leaned forward in the middle of his dining room and placed his hands on his knees and tried to breathe through the nasty set of nauseating waves that had taken place in his stomach.
A feeling of unease seeped through him and he almost stumbled again. Steve straightened and attempted to take a large breath. It was like trying to breathe through tar. His hand whipped out and grabbed the back of a chair as the ability to breathe deeply turned into a struggle.
Something was wrong. If he had been thinking straight he would have realised that a long time ago. Something was very wrong … with him. "Shit," Steve gasped.
His eyes widely darted around, looking for something, anything. He needed something … he … he needed help. A phone … his hand automatically went to where his phone always was – in the pocket of his cargo pants. But he wasn't wearing cargo pants. He was wearing boxers, the weather not allowing for any more clothing than that. His iphone was back in his bedroom, on his night stand.
His blurry and distorted gaze sought out the landline. He saw it ... on the bench in the kitchen. He breathed in quick and erratic, his body panicking over the fight for air. He took a step away from the kitchen table and towards the phone. Stumbling, his body was weak and heavy and he crashed into the bench. His ribs cried out as they took a beating against the edge and his hand fumbled for the phone.
With fingers finally tightly wrapped around his object of need, Steve pressed the speed dial he knew to be Danny's number just as he lost his battle to stay upright. He crashed to the floor, the overheated skin of his bare torso rejoiced as it hit the cool floorboards and it was the last thing he thought before his eyes rolled back and he knew no-more.
Danny Williams rolled over, growling something unintelligible and then re-situated himself on the fold out bed. He moved carefully, even half concious, remembering that he wasn't sleeping alone. Grace was there, fast asleep on the bed next to him.
His phone stopped ringing and Danny sighed, keeping his eyes closed. He tried to reclaim the dream he'd been having. The dream where he didn't have to hand his daughter back over to her mother and step-father in the morning.
Danny's eyes snapped open. Something was wrong. He didn't know what. He didn't know why the sudden feeling of dread had come over him but now that it was there it was sitting like lead in his stomach. That ring tone …
Danny looked over his shoulder, checking to make sure his daughter hadn't been disturbed. She slept on oblivious and sweet. He needed to get a bigger place, or at least a place that could accommodate both himself and Gracie sleeping in their own beds. He hated to admit when McGarrett was right … but he was.
That sudden feeling that something was wrong hit him hard again and Danny reached over to his phone and looked down at the screen. Blinking his eyes a few times to clear them, Danny read the name on the caller ID. The name and the personalised "Original GI Joe Theme" ringtone all started to sync together to form a picture in Danny's mind.
But what the hell was the ex-SEAL calling him for at - Danny looked down at his watch that was still strapped to his wrist – three thirty in the morning? Three in the damn morning? On Christmas morning? Did the man not stop? Ever? Really?
Why me? Danny asked himself as he tossed the phone back onto the bedside table. He remained leaning on one elbow as he reached up and rubbed at his eyes. Damn if he wasn't tired. But he couldn't complain. The night before had been great. He'd been able to keep his tradition of dressing up as Santa for Gracie and he'd been joined by his new friends, people that he was caring about more and more.
Despite the shaky start he and Commander Steve McGarrett had had, Danny was starting to feel like he had a place, like he belonged. He would never admit it of course - because his partner would never let him hear the end of it - but Hawaii wasn't so bad when he had his daughter and friends to keep him company.
But he could do without friends that called him at three am on Christmas morning.
Danny laid back down, careful not to wake Grace, and closed his eyes. He wanted to just enjoy this time.
Two minutes of staring at the underside of his eyelids, Danny snapped his eyes open, sighing. This wasn't working. Something was niggling at him. He forced himself up onto his elbow again and reached for the phone and pressed call back on the missed call he'd received from Steve.
It was then that he had noticed the call hadn't come from his partner's iphone, but his landline. It wasn't totally strange but it wasn't something he was used to. Danny tried to shove the thought aside.
Danny let the phone ring out, pulling away when he heard the dial tone. No answer there. Danny automatically punched in a call to McGarrett's cell. He always had his iphone on him. He was always reachable. Again he was met with the call ringing out, ending this time with the former SEAL's voice mail asking him to leave a message. Odd.
There was something telling him to try it again. He didn't though. His next course of action had him calling their team member Chin Ho Kelly. It took a few long seconds before Chin answered and Danny felt sorry for obviously pulling him out of sleep.
"Have you heard from Steve?"
There was silence for a few seconds before Chin answered. "Not since we left your place."
"Huh ..." Danny exhaled.
"He called me about five minutes ago but I missed it. Now he's not answering. It's … probably nothing." This was silly. Only it didn't feel silly. After the last case they'd had they were all a little … off.
"Or it could be something. I've learnt that it never hurts to check. Do you want me to go over there?"
Chin's offer made him feel grateful and more worried all at once. He shook his head even though he knew the other man couldn't see him. "No, it's okay. I'll try him again."
"Okay … if you're sure."
"I'm sure. Sorry I woke you, man."
"No problem, Brah. Oh and Mele Kalikimaka to you and Gracie."
"What?" Danny asked, confusion marring his features. It was too early for anything other than English.
Danny could almost see Chin's knowing smile through the phone as the other man ended the call. Shaking his head, Danny carefully crawled out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He pressed dial on McGarrett's number once more. To Danny's ever growing sense of unease, there was no answer.
Danny swung around at the sound of his daughter's tired voice behind him. Despite his efforts to be covert and allow her to sleep, he'd managed to wake her up. Great. Had he walked under a ladder? Broken a mirror? Things were just not going his way this morning.
Danny took a couple of steps towards the little girl and knelt down on one knee so he was eye level with her. "What are you doing up, Monkey?"
"Is Uncle Steve okay?"
Danny frowned. He wasn't expecting that question. "Of course he is. Why wouldn't he be?"
Grace shrugged and hugged the new plush dolphin Kono had given her for Christmas. "He wasn't feeling well."
"Did he tell you that?" Danny asked.
He had noticed Steve had been looking more and more tired by the end of the night, he'd looked a little off. But after the last case they'd had Danny hadn't thought much of it. Besides, if Steve was coming down with something he knew damn well he wouldn't admit it even under the threat of death. He was fully planning on calling him on it when they got back to work if their boss didn't look any better.
Grace shook her head. "No, but ... "
The hesitancy in his daughter's voice brought that worrying knot back to Danny's stomach. "But what?"
"He threw up."
"Uh huh … in the bathroom but he said your mystery Christmas cake had made him sick."
How had he missed that? What had he been doing while his partner was off being sick in his small bathroom?
"He said not to tell you because he didn't want to hurt your feelings," Grace supplied like she had read his mind. He thought he probably had those questions written all over his face. Grace was a kid but she wasn't stupid … or blind. "It was pretty bad. Nobody else liked it either," she followed up as if in afterthought.
"Oh really?" Danny raised a challenging eyebrow, earning a familiar smirk from his daughter. It was one he had seen in the mirror. Danny lunged forward and scooped his daughter into his arms, freeing one arm to tickle her. "My cake's not good enough for you now?" he asked over the forced giggling as she squirmed to get away and keep hold of the soft toy all at once.
Danny walked over to the bed and released Grace onto the bed, on top of the covers, laughing a little as she caught her breath. "How about we get back to bed, huh?"
"But what about Uncle Steve?" Grace asked, her tone once again serious.
Danny sighed and climbed onto the bed with her, holding the blankets up so they could both climb in. He wrapped his arm tightly around her as she snuggled into his side. He would never tire of doing this. He was going to miss it when she would be too old to want to snuggle with her poor old father.
"Steve is old enough and ugly enough to deal with a stomach bug."
"Food poisoning," Grace corrected.
"Still sticking with that story, huh?"
"It wasn't good, Danno." That was the last time he was buying cake from the local grocer.
"You wound me, kid. Say, what was I doing while Superman was puking up my cake?"
"You were putting my new bike together with Uncle Chin. Do you think I can ride it in the morning?" Grace asked, snuggling down further.
"Sure, Munchkin. But first we need sleep." He slipped further down the bed and laid his head on the pillow, feeling the comforting light weight of Grace against him.
He reached over and switched off the lamp and closed his eyes. Images of him putting together Gracie's bike hours earlier flew through his mind. Steve calling him lazy as he moaned and complained that now days you had to put everything together yourself. Chin reading the instructions as Kono directed … and laughed. Suddenly he felt the presence of his partner missing from the equation. Why hadn't he noticed that at the time.
Steve McGarrett was smart. He knew how to hide things that he didn't want people to know. But Danny knew that if he had of being paying proper attention he would have seen behind McGarrett's facade.
"You cant sleep, can you?" Grace whispered in the dark.
Danny sighed. "No."
He was. Steve wouldn't call him in the middle of the night when he was sick if something wasn't up. Danny reached out blindly and switched the light back on. He wasn't going to sleep peacefully until he checked this out. Danny pulled the covers back and got out of the bed again and started looking for his clothes. Grace watched him from the bed. He slipped his trousers on over his shorts and then turned to Grace. "I'm gonna get Mrs Lokelani to sit with you for a bit, okay?" He was lucky to have the old woman living just next door. Danny hadn't long moved in when he had learnt that she had been a cops wife for thirty years before her husband had passed. Grace had taken a liking to her and after a thorough background check, Danny had deemed the old woman safe to be around his daughter. He wasn't paranoid … really. But you had to be extra vigilant now days. She understood the life of a cop and was Danny's only option right now.
"But I want to come with you!" Grace told him, getting out of bed again, this time leaving the dolphin behind.
Danny stooped down again and held her shoulders with both hands. "I wont be long. I promise. I'm just going to check up on Steve and I'll be right back." That was the plan anyway. "He's probably fine. Besides if he is sick he wouldn't want you catching anything off him, now would he? I'd have to kick his sorry butt." He quirked his lips up in a smug smirk for Grace's benefit.
It took a moment before he finally achieved the smile he was aiming for. "Okay," she sighed and then her face lit up. She did an about turn and walked back over to the bed and picked up her dolphin. She handed to soft toy to Danny. "Give him my dolphin."
"No, Honey, that's yours." Danny tried to hand the toy back.
"Just until he feels better. He'd good company," Grace insisted.
Danny looked down at the toy and then at his daughter. He drew her into a hug. "Danno loves you." he whispered into her hair
"I love you too," Grace replied, squeezing him back.
Danny released her and stood. He guided her back to the bed, tucked her back in and then kissed her head. "I'll be back soon."
Danny tucked the dolphin under his arm, collected his wallet, keys, phone, badge and gun and headed for the door, intent on getting the babysitter and then getting to Steve's … kicking his partner's arse was looking like a better idea by the minute.
As Danny pulled into the long driveway at the McGarrett home it was still dark, in the hours between night and the first rays of sunlight. The trees surrounding the house and property were casting leafy shadows but it didn't stop him realising he wasn't the only person paying an early morning visit to the Lt Commander.
Sitting there between the porch and Steve's Truck was Chin Ho Kelly's motorcycle. Danny slowed to a stop behind Steve's truck and killed the engine, his gaze fixed on the motorcycle and then the house, looking for a sign of it's owner. Seeing movement on the porch, Danny quickly opened the car door and got out, automatically feeling for his gun in the holster connected to his belt. It was there of course and he prayed that he wouldn't need it tonight, that he just had an over-active imagination that decided to steal him away from his daughter on Christmas morning.
"Thought I told you there was nothing to worry about," Danny greeted Chin on the porch.
Chin raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you doing here?"
Danny made his way past Chin and to the front door. "Oh you know, I just cant get enough of McGarrett's charming scintillating personality. He home?"
"He hasn't answered the door or answered my calls. I checked around the back. Nothing's out of order, but ..."
"But something feels off."
"Got it in one, Brah. We need to get inside."
"That's what this is for." Danny slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys, holding up one key in particular.
"You have a key to Steve's house?" A wry smile formed on Chin's face.
"For emergencies," Danny clarified. Of course he rarely waited for an invitation these days … or from the get-go. He let himself in and Steve bitched about courtesy knocks and Danny making himself at home. They had a system. It worked. "I demanded he hand over a key after the General Puck thing. I also demanded that he get a new security system put in. The man seems to think he's a one man army."
"Good thing you did." Chin agreed as he looked out towards the yard and the road behind the line of trees.
Danny slipped the key into the clock and heard the satisfying click as the door unlocked. He pulled the key out and slipped his keys back into his pocket and then unhooked his gun from its holster, noticing that Chin's gun was out also.
Danny nodded, holding the gun at ready, nudged the front door open with his foot, letting Chin move in first. Danny followed in close behind, flipping the light switch on as they moved.
"Steve!" He called, wanting to alert the man that they were there. He was an ex-seal after all and if nothing was wrong then he didn't want to get shot by friendly fire because he didn't announce himself. "McGarrett! You there?"
"Danny," Chin called. "In here."
Danny followed the sound of Chin's voice and found himself in Steve's kitchen just as Chin switched on the light. The house was eerily quiet except for their footsteps. Danny's eyes adjusted to the bright light of the kitchen and finally rested on object of their search. There on the ground, dressed only in a blue pair of boxers was Steve McGarrett. The phone was lying mere inches from his hand like he had been trying to make a phone call and just collapsed.
"Shit," Danny cursed as Chin knelt down beside their leader and automatically checked for a pulse. Danny hovered, wanting to know the man was okay and feeling on edge. His attention kept darting between Steve and the rest of the room, looking for some assailant to show himself, for something to catch his eye to explain what Steve was doing on the floor of his own kitchen.
"He's alive," Chin revealed much to Danny's relief. "Stay with him. I'll call it in." Chin told him as he stood swiftly and pulled out his cell phone and dialled.
Danny stayed kneeling beside Steve. He could hear Chin talking to the dispatcher, telling her they needed an ambulance, a team to come in, but his concentration was now completely on his friend. He holstered his gun and pressed his fingers against Steve;s throat to feel for the pulse himself. It was there but it did nothing to comfort Danny. It was erratic and fast like his heart was working overtime to keep pumping. The former seals skin was sweaty and hot to the touch and his cheeks were bright read with fever. He looked like shit.
Danny lightly gripped his friend's jaw. "Steve?" he called, tapping his cheek gently. "Steve, wake up, buddy." It was said quietly. He heard Chin finish the call and tell him he was going to check the rest of the house and was glad that Chin has decided to come. He nodded at him and then looked back down at Steve.
"Hey! Pain in the ass! Open you eyes! Come on, man!" Danny tried. He leaned over Steve, letting his ear hover over the commander's mouth. His adrenaline shot up a notch. Steve's breathing was almost non-existent. "Steve … come on! You're supposed to be some kind of super ninja seal. I hate to break it to you, pal, but ninjas don't die on their kitchen floors in their underwear." That he knew of anyway. Danny waited, watched Steve's face for any type of acknowledgement. There was nothing, only a growing sense of fear that maybe Steve really was dying. The fact that this had come as a surprise, that they had no idea what was wrong with him made the whole situation that much worse.
"Don't you dare stop breathing," he muttered quietly as Chin came back into the room, holstering his own gun.
"The rest of the house is clear. There's no-one here. It doesn't look like anyone was here either. How's he doing?"
"His temperature is through the roof, his heart his beating way too fast and erratic and he's barely breathing … but other than that he's just peachy," Danny said, looking up at Chin, apologising with a look for his caustic manner.
This wasn't Chin's fault and the other man was just as worried. He didn't always have control of what came out of his mouth. Sarcasm was his natural defence … who was he kidding? It was his natural manner of speech regardless of the situation. Still Chin didn't deserve it right now.
"Where's that ambulance?" he asked, looking up at Chin while keeping two fingers pressed against Steve's throat.
"They'll be here any minute," Chin replied, just as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. "I'll go call Kono and direct them in."
"Good idea." Danny nodded his thanks and watched as Chin walked out of the room. He looked back down at Steve.
What the hell was wrong with him? He had been a little off when he'd left but not bad enough that Danny would have expected this. He knew one thing for sure. This had nothing to do with food poisoning from his Christmas cake … Where the hell was that ambulance?
A/N 2: Okay ... hit me ... was it good? Crap? Should I stop? Should I continue?
Thank you for reading if you made it this far, thank you for reading if you a regular SPN viewer of mine and thank you if you are simply a Five-O fan who has never heard of me before LOL
Hope you're all having a wonderful year so far and I hope to hear from you. If you have a moment, drop me a line and let me know what you thought. I'd love to know ;)