Title: Insufflate
Author: Victoria LeRoux
Rating: T
Chapter WC: 2160
Story WC: 2160
First Written: December 3, 2011
Last Edited: January 2, 2012
Posted: January 2, 2012
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This work has not been endorsed by any holding copyright or license (CBS) to the television series Hawaii Five-0. No connection is implied or should be inferred. Other names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author receives no financial gain from its production or distribution.
Dedication: Jaylyn, who died from a severe asthma attack at the age of six. I also will admit that this fic was partially inspired by Respire, which was a piece of unfathomable wisdom.
New Year's Resolution Fic Number: 1

Summary: In just a few seconds, he was taking in a breath of air and giving his partner chest compressions. He'd realized the problem after the first few seconds. Danny couldn't breathe. Danny whump, h/c, no slash. Slight AU

Author's Note: This is mostly just to get be back in the fanfic universe after writing a 127,000 word novel for NaNoWriMo. I should be typing the five-page history essay due Tuesday right now, but I've really, really, wanted to get one of my four 5-0 stories up soon. I'll get the next one up in less than two weeks, then work on my chapter stories. I promise, so don't kill me, please

Well, that was my first Author's Note. All I really have to add that this is probably set early season 1. This is my first of my three-fic-a-week plan I have going on for this entire 2011, so hopefully I can achieve it. This was probably full of typos but… eh. I don't wanna edit. Final note - reviews are adored.

In out, in out, in out, in out, in out… No, damn it. Why wasn't his breath going in?

It started as it always did, with his breath stuttering in his lungs and the sudden, ever-shocking realization that he couldn't breathe.

The Detective lost his rhythm as he ran, and his footsteps missed a beat as he halted.


Not now. Please, not now.

The suspect he was chasing turned to look around, noticed that Danny had dropped to one knee, and grinned. It was only a few seconds before he was lost from the Detective's view, but right now, Danny couldn't bring himself to worry about the fleeing man. Steve would catch him, or shoot him. He wasn't getting away.

He felt his body convulse slightly- it wanted air, but its own system was working against it.

He couldn't breathe.

Danny had thought it had gone away. It had been years since this happened… years since he felt the crushing weight on his chest and had to grope for an inhaler.

Still, he should be used to this by now. After a lifetime of checking off a history of asthma and filling out prescriptions, he should be able to reach for the inhaler and be back on his feet in the minute.

His eyes widened, and his hands gripped his own throat, trying to swallow.

Danny couldn't breathe.

Come on, come on. Just a little air… I'll buy Steve all the pineapple pizza he wants, just let me have some air.

His hazy, confused thoughts weren't making much sense. His breathes were growing ever-shallower, and he tried to find where he put the damn inhaler.

It took a few more seconds to realize he'd left it at his home, still packed away in boxes because if there was one good thing about Hawai'i, it was the lack of asthma attacks.

He couldn't breathe.

Danny felt the panic ripping through his skin, and he tried to remember what the cheerful, bouncy nurse had told him years ago.

Sit up… He was doing that. It wasn't helping. Use the inhaler, quick puffs.

Dammit. The instructions were just making him panic more, because he didn't have the inhaler.

Hopefully Steve would have realized that something happened to Danny by this point. Maybe he already had the suspect stuck in the car or Chin's shotgun was leveled on the perp in case he thought he should continue running.

As if on cue, Danny's cheerful name echoed down the street. "Danno! Did all the donuts catch up to you?"

He hoped Steve would hurry up, because he couldn't breathe.

Steve frowned in concern as he trotted down the alleyway. Danny hadn't let a suspect outrun him since they met, and the suspect hadn't been armed.

Unless he left a knife sticking in Danny, of course.

Worry dogged the SEAL's footsteps as he found his pace increasing. Briefly, the idea of trying to call his partner crossed his mind, but it only took a few seconds to remember the phone being knocked out of the Detective's hand and flying into the ocean.

What if there had been a second suspect? What if Danny had been jumped? What if-

He pulled his mind away from the possibilities and realized he was sprinting faster now. He could see a figure kneeling in the dirt, and by the time Steve reached Danny's side, he was sprinting.

A part of him was cataloguing the symptoms as he gripped his partner's arm in concern.

Blue-tinted lips. Shallow breathing. Coughing. Shallow, but rapid pulse.

Training took over friendship, and Steve gently rolled Danny onto his back. In just a few seconds, he was taking in a breath of air and giving his partner chest compressions. He'd realized the problem after the first few seconds.

Danny couldn't breathe.

"Inhaler?" he asked Danny, after pulling away from another quick round of compressions. The blond shook his head, a tiny movement, but enough for Steve. The SEAL resisted the urge to groan, instead giving Danny another breath of air. Steve did his best to look reassuring, but one part of his mind was giving way to fear. Danny had already caved- his eyes were wide and searching, his expression showing the trace of genuine terror that rarely clawed its way onto the man.

Steve gave a grunt of annoyance as he shifted to an easier position to administer the CPR. One leg went on either side of Danny and he took the opportunity to take a deep breath for himself, chasing away the light-headedness.

"It's okay," he reassured his partner after giving Danny another breath. Danny's breath was whistling and wheezing in between the supply of oxygen McGarrett gave him, but the sarcastic look his partner gave him was enough to reassure him that he wasn't lying. "You're okay."

Even as Steve gave Danny another gulp of air, he inwardly berated himself for not reading Danny's file cover-to-cover like he should have. He skimmed over the recommendations and medals, then left it at that. He'd trusted Danny to tell him about any ongoing medical issues.


He should have anticipated something like this, shouldn't have to feel himself tearing apart with guilt.

Danny couldn't breathe.

"Danny," the SEAL began, dialing 9-1-1 one handed. "I'm going to have to carry you to the end of the alley so the paramedics will be able to see us. The ambulance won't be able to reach us here."

A slight, jerky movement of Danny's head showed his understanding. Steve didn't blame him for the lack of a clear response.

Danny couldn't breathe.

He'd have to discuss this telling-your-boss about medical issues thing with Danny tomorrow.

Steve continued to speak, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. "On the count of three, I'm going to give you another breath then pull you to your feet. If you feel like you desperately need air… just, get my attention, alright?"

Another small, jerky movement.

Steve sighed, and quit wasting time. He just wished he had received better training to do with asthma attacks but during SERE, it hadn't been high on the list of priorities.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes until the ambulance got here.

Ten minutes but…

Danny couldn't breathe.

Steve gave a long huff of air, filling Danny's lungs. Danny seemed limper now, more compliant with Steve's manhandling.

Not good.

In a swift movement, Steve had Danny hoisted up on his back and swiftly he lugged the dead weight down the alley. It was only a few seconds before he became aware of a feeble pounding on his back.


It seemed like it took forever, but eventually they reached the end of the alley in time for the paramedics to arrive. After only a few moments that took a lifetime for Steve, Danny was in the ambulance and being driven away at record-breaking speeds.

A few hours later, Steve found himself sitting next to Danny's hospital bed, staring at his clenched hands. Danny was remaining eerily silent, staring up at the ceiling with a clenched jaw.

At last, the silence became too much for Steve to handle.

"Say something, Danny," Steve snapped at last.

Danny didn't say anything for a few moments, the pause long enough to make Steve wonder if Danny planned on replying.

"Something," his voice sounded hoarse.

Steve made a low noise in the back of this throat, knowing that if he met Danny's eyes, he was probably going to strangle him.

"Steve…" Danny began with a sigh, but Steve finally looked up, eyes narrowed.

"Danny," he snapped. "You hid a severe medical illness from me. That illness caused a suspect to escape custody and we were forced to waste valuable resources tracking him down. You shouldn't be waiting for me to speak. I want an explanation – now."

Steve watched Danny's face get slightly redder, and his arms began to wave around.

"You want me to explain why you didn't know? It's listed right there in my file! You would have seen it if you'd bothered to check.. I haven't had any attacks since arriving on this pineapple infested hellhole and have made no deliberate attempt to hide this from you. Yes, Steven, I should have carried my inhaler with me but you-" here Danny made an angry jab in Steve's direction. "-Have no business being angry with me over this because you-"

"Danny, shut up," Steve interrupted, forcing his jaw to unclench. Danny, surprised by the sudden speech, fell silent with his mouth agape. "You're right."

"No, Steve, don't try to argue with me… Wait, what?" Danny raised his eyebrow in shock.

"I said, you're right. I failed you," Steve sighed wearily, "I should have read your file more thoroughly."

Danny still seemed stuck at 'you're right', because he took a few moments to analyze the last statement Steve said. "Yes, you should have, but I should have told you."

Steve remained silent once more, thinking over Danny's words. Steve couldn't blame Danny for the angry rant. It was simply Danny's way of hiding the fear he'd felt earlier. He couldn't think of anything suitable to say – no matter what Danny said, he had failed as a commander – so he simply stuck with, "You're doing all my paperwork."

A pause.

"Fine." Danny's teeth seemed to be edging toward gritted.

"For a month," Steve attempted with a smile.

Danny paused, his hands slowly coiling and releasing, before he snarled out.


Steve grinned to himself as Danny noticed the pineapple decorations in the room and began to rant once again. This time, Steve didn't try to interrupt Danny's tirade, because the words flowing from his mouth meant one thing.

Danny could breathe.