By jenthetrulysly

AN – A very big and special thank you to GM for letting me borrow from her fabulous fanon for this story! Set in the first season.

Before coming here Steve had stopped by the deli on Beretania that Danny liked to get his lunches from. Armed with the small bundle he waited for the elevator to stop its ascent upward. With a slight lurch the metal doors pinged open and he stepped out into the hallway, beginning to make his way to Danny's apartment. The Second-In-Command had been sick for the last few days and McGarrett wanted to make sure that the young man was fine. Being sick was no fun and being sick alone was even worse. He paused at the front of Danny's apartment and rang the doorbell. There was no immediate answer as the seconds slowly leeched forward to turn into minutes. Growing concerned, Steve began to rap on the door smartly.

Worry wormed its way into conscious thought as he pressed his ear against the wood to try and discern any sounds of stirring, only to find none. "Danno!" He shouted as he began to pound harder on the door. "Are you alright in there? I'm coming in!" The detective seized the doorknob in his hands and twisted it, surprised that it had opened so easily under his fingers.

Shaking his head, he stepped into Danny's apartment. The lights were not on and a steady stream flowed from a crack in the door a bit further inside to pool on the floor. It was enough for the lead detective to feel his way along the wall to find the light switch. Flicking the lights on, the sea of beige and brown that was the interior winked into sight and he was unnerved to see that there was no sign of habitation in it, except for the green jacket that his Second-In-Command frequently liked to wear slung careless across the back of the sofa. It was ripped and torn in various places, and still had splotches of mud on it from when they had gone in pursuit of Estevez as he had tried to elude capture in the cliffs and mountains surrounding Nu'uanu Pali a few days ago.

"Danno!" The dark haired detective called out again, as he took another step towards the slightly open door on the other side. At the lack of response he placed the small bundle on the coffee table and began to make his way past the sofa. Before long he reached the door, and seized the knob in his hand as he rested the other on the grain of the wood.

"I'm coming in." Steve announced loudly, as he pushed the door open a bit more. He stepped tentatively into the bedroom and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out at the sight that greeted him.

Danny's shoes were lying on random places at the foot of his bed and the man himself was lying in a tangle of sheets on his bed. His eyes were closed and a fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead as his breath came in difficult breaths. Steve dashed over to the bedside and placed a palm onto the younger man's forehead, horrified to find that he was really burning up. It was a testament to how tired the sick detective was that he had not even bothered to change from his work clothes. He was still in the same work shirt and trousers that the lead detective had last seen him in. He looked around the room to find Dan's tie flung across the corner of the bedside table next to the lamp and telephone. Steve imagined that what must have happened was that he had come home and completely collapsed from sheer exhaustion. It was not surprising considering that they had worked around the clock prior to the confrontation at the Pali and Danny had gotten the worst of it because he spent an entire day in the rain in hot pursuit of the hood.

His Second-In-Command clearly needed medical attention and he needed it now. Trying to ignore the ominously loud wheezing in the room as Dan struggled to breathe; the lead detective pulled the phone on the bedside table closer to him and dialed Bergman's number. After a few rings the doctor picked up, and Steve could hear the soft sounds of a television in the background.

"Hello, this is Bergman," the physician answered.

"Hey Doc, I've got a small emergency here." Steve began to explain quickly, "Danny's burning up with a fever and he seems to have some trouble breathing."

"Okay, and when you say 'here' you mean-"

"His apartment." Steve cut across succinctly. "Get here as soon as you can."

"Will do, Steve. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Wait! Before you go is there anything I can do in the meanwhile to help Danny?" Steve asked just before Bergman hung up.

"Without seeing him all I would suggest is giving him some acetaminophen and maybe a cool cloth on his forehead. I'll be there as soon as I can. Bye."

The dark haired detective hung up the phone and went into Dan's bathroom to look for some acetaminophen. He flicked the light switch on and headed straight for the medicine cabinet above the sink. Raiding the cabinet, Steve quickly found some Tylenol at the very back and after making sure that it was still within the expiration date put the small box into the pocket of his jacket. Returning to Danny's bedroom, his eyes skimmed down to the still slightly damp clothing on the younger man's body. He knew that they had to be changed at once. It was not helping matters, and after a brief search of Dan's closet he came back with a pair of dark green pyjamas. He placed a hand on Danny's shoulder and began to gently try and rouse the man from his sleep.

"Danno." Steve murmured gently, as the other man began to stir. He continued his efforts before a bleary blue eye cracked open to glare at him.

"Steve." Danny breathed more than said. "What are you doing here?"

"I came by with some chicken soup to find you like this. You have a way of getting into quite a bit of trouble." He resisted the urge to run a hand through the mop of sandy curls on his Second-In-Command's head, slightly perturbed by the utterly tender feeling remarkably resembling affection that stole through him. "Anyway, up and into these."

He pushed the pajamas into Danny's hands before helping the other man up off the bed. He was still shivering as Steve helped him to the bathroom.

"You sure you'll be okay in there?" McGarrett asked.

"Yeah, I should be." With a ghost of his usual impudent grin Steve felt a little less worried as Dan disappeared behind the door. He waited for a few moments before he could hear the sounds of running water and it wasn't long before the shower was going.

Once satisfied that Danny was all right, Steve went outside the bedroom to retrieve the chicken soup on the coffee table and headed to the kitchen to reheat it. The layout of the kitchen was the same as the last time that he was here. He hunted in the drawers and cupboards for a bowl and a spoon and had just finished pouring the reheated the soup into the bowl when the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. Carefully placing the saucepan on the stovetop he turned around to see those familiar blue eyes on him, a soft smile lacing those tired features. Noticing the way Dan was leaning on the doorframe heavily, the lead detective made a move to go and help him but the young man merely shook his head before the smile turned into an all out grin.

"How are you feeling?" The Head of Five-O asked.

"Horrible, but I can't complain." Danny shot back. He sounded heavily congested, and his breathing was still too labored for comfort. His clear blue eyes flicked to the steaming bowl on the counter. "Is that for me?"


"You seem really at ease in the kitchen, you should have been a chef instead." Danny joked mildly, before a hacking cough took hold of him and he was bent over, clutching his chest as his body tried to expel the congestion.

"Then all of Hawaii will miss me." Steve replied as he rushed to rub soothing circles into the other man's back, "Easy, Aikane, easy. Slow breaths."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Danny wheezed between breaths as he fought to clamp down on the cough. "Some important dinner, personal or otherwise?"

McGarrett ignored this question as he helped to guide Danny back out to the sofa to sit down. It spoke volumes as to his current state how he was unable to answer such a simple question. Fortunately he was saved from having to answer when the doorbell rang. Upon Danny's confused look he quickly explained. "I called Doc after I came over. He's going to make sure that you're okay."

The Second-In-Command nodded before Steve walked over to the door and pulled it open. Stepping aside for Bergman to come in, he closed the door again and headed over to where Bergman had laid his black bag on the sofa next to Danny and he bent down to be eye-level with the younger man.

"How are you feeling?" the physician asked the man next to him. He opened his bag and pulled out his stethoscope.

"Rotten." Danny admitted truthfully, "It feels like there is an elephant on my chest and I can't breath most of the-" he quickly covered his mouth as another harsh coughing spasm hit him, and it was a while before he managed to get it under control again.

"That doesn't sound so good." Bergman observed wryly. He placed the stethoscope in his ears and placed the other end of it against Danny's chest. "Deep breaths, Dan."

McGarrett watched as Doc continued his examination of the younger man, listening to his heart his lungs and taking his temperature. A small part of him smiled at how it was so similar to an interrogation. Bergman really had picked up some things along the way as physician and examiner for the Five-O team. Some of the things that were revealed were rather frightening.

"When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?"

"I can't remember. I think before the Pentangeli case," Danny replied.

"Danno, that was three weeks ago." Steve interjected, aghast.

"Hmmm. How's your diet been?" the physician continued.

"It's good, plenty of fruits and vegetables." The younger detective replied, but upon the glare from McGarrett he quickly coughed and admitted, "Whatever I can grab from the stores that are still open when I knock off work."

After what seemed like an eternity the physician finished his examination and gave his diagnosis. He pulled out his prescription pad and began to scribble. "Danny, I think that you have succumbed to a chest infection and a cold. Now I am going to give you a script for some antibiotics for the infection and a cough suppressant so you can get a good night's rest. You really need it."

"Is there anything he can take for the cold?" Steve asked, crossing his arms.

Bergman turned around to look at Steve. "Dan doesn't need it. After a few days rest with some proper food in him, he should be right as rain. However, young man," the physician directed his gaze back to the other man on the sofa, "you must simply take better care of yourself. You are quite run down and that has made you more susceptible to illness. Take things easy, okay?"

"That's easier said than done." Danny muttered.

"It can be done though." Steve prompted.

"Listen to your boss." Bergman continued, "and I'm sure he'll give you the time of day. Now, I'm still a little concerned at how high your fever is, do you have anyone to keep an eye on it in case it breaks overnight?"

"No." Danny responded, as the physician handed him both prescriptions.

"I'll keep an eye over him." Steve spoke up.

"You don't have to…" the younger detective started, but halted at the ferocity of Steve's glare.

"That's a good idea." Bergman said, nodding his head. "That way if the fever jumps higher than 101, you will need to take him to the hospital right away." He began to gather his things and stood up, brushing the invisible dust from his clothes.

"Sure." Steve replied. "Should I still give him some of this?" He fished for the box of Tylenol in his pocket and showed Bergman. "He hasn't had any so far."

"Definitely," the physician replied. "Two tablets after every meal should do the trick to keep the fever at bay."

The lead detective nodded his understanding. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Thank you indeed." Danny chimed in.

"Not a problem." The physician responded as he headed for the door, before pulling it open. "Remember, if anything changes let me know."

"We will. Thank you again," Steve said as the doctor stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Steve looked at the door for a few moments before he flicked his gaze at Danny, heading towards the sick man of the sofa as a soft smile graced his features. "Feeling any better, Aikane?" Their eyes met and something wordless passed between them. They knew each other well enough to know what the other was thinking. The lead detective's smile only got bigger as warmth spread through his body when Danny reciprocated with a small cheeky, albeit tired grin. "Come on, chicken soup awaits." He moved towards the kitchen, but just as he reached the doorway he turned around to look at Dan as he added. "I guess you're stuck with me then."

Moving to get off the sofa, Danny began to chuckle softly as he made his way towards the kitchen. "So I am."