Steve woke to darkness. For a moment, as his eyes adjusted, he could almost believe the previous few hours – Danny arriving unexpectedly – was simply a horrible nightmare. He pushed the bed covers down and sat up to turn on the bed-side lamp. The light revealed the half empty bottle of water nearby and a moderately tidied room. Definitely not a nightmare.

"Shit."

So that happened. He really had made a complete ass out of himself in front of Danny. Just what he fucking needed. He wondered for a moment if he could get away with not going into the office in the morning, or ever. Or maybe they'd catch a huge case and that would distract Danny.

Except Danny was more or less un-distractible, especially when it came to reminding Steve about all the stupid shit he'd done.

Steve sighed and then his stomach rumbled. The neighbours were cooking something that smelled amazing, even if the thought of eating right now made him want to puke. Not that it really mattered. He'd forgotten to go shopping again. He was pretty sure all the food he had in the house had been on that plate Danny had made for him.

Although... he didn't remember eating it all – of course, he didn't remember getting into bed, either, for the best rest he'd had in months. Maybe there was still some food left. He should make himself eat something and he could probably handle that. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, closed his eyes, hung his head, took a deep breath. He needed a moment to convince himself to actually get out of the bed and go down the stairs and find some food.

It's what Danny would make him do, after all.

After a moment, he shook his head. Really, what was his problem? He was a fucking SEAL goddammit. "Get after it, jackass," he told himself, like some kind of twisted pep talk. He frowned at himself and stood, flicking off the lamp. Light spilled in under the bedroom door and he used that and his memory of the room and the piles to navigate into the hall.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd even turned the lights on, let alone why he'd leave them on, but as he made his way downstairs, he could see that the entire ground floor was lit up. Perhaps Danny had turned them on before he left. And then he heard the noises from the kitchen. With no weapons on him and a sinking suspicion that he knew the source of the noise, and the delicious smell, Steve approached the kitchen with caution.

Despite pretty much knowing what – or at least who – he would see in the kitchen, he was unable to move farther than the doorway. He watched Danny stir something on the stove. A salad, half-built, was spread across the island. Danny turned around, saw Steve standing there watching him, and smiled.

"Hey! You're awake. How you feeling? And do not lie to me, Steven. I will know. You're due for more pain meds, if you want them. And you are going to eat something. You got me?"

Steve could do nothing more than let the words wash over him, like a familiar blanket. Like the time he'd borrowed his great-grandmother's blanket to make a fort and then got reprimanded for it, because he played too rough and had a habit of destroying things.

"Danny," was all he could manage, his voice small and tentative and he hated the sound of it.

Danny's features softened a bit, then morphed into a goofy smirk.

"What, you thought I'd be gone when you woke up?" Steve answered with a nod. After all, everyone else would have after what he'd done. How many times had his mother wiped his tears away, told him that he needed to pull it together before his father got home? How many times had his dad told him to man up, that big boys didn't cry, that he should be tough like his grandfather, the hero. What would the late Steve McGarrett think of his grandson if he'd seen him like that? And he'd always had to be strong for Mary. And not just because his parents had said it was his job to look out for his litter sister. Uncle Joe and his backslap and Navy talk. And all that was before his mother fake died.

Danny was still talking, like Steve wasn't on the verge of another breakdown as the weight of his responsibility fell on his shoulders again.

"To be honest," Danny was saying, "if you'd come down half an hour ago, you would have been alone. I had to run to the store. Your fridge was a disgrace, let me tell you. Seriously, babe, it was worse than mine was after the divorce." He waved a knife around dangerously as he tried to both cut tomatoes and talk with his hands. "A lot worse actually, considering mine was a least full of beer. Not that we can drink beer right now, of course." He finally paused, as if he was waiting for Steve to join the conversation, snark back at him.

Aside from that crushing weight of responsibility, that grew just by looking at Danny, Steve just couldn't believe his friend was still here. But then... why should he be surprised by that? He ranted and raved and called Steve an animal, but he'd never ever left him.

Something must have shown on his face because Danny finally put the knife down and cocked his head. Steve felt exposed under the scrutiny in a way he hadn't felt since fleeing that talent show stage in defeat and disgrace.

Danny walked around the island and came to stand in front of him. Steve looked down at him, wary, but the longer Danny just watched him, the more Steve actually started to relax under his gaze. It didn't make any sense to him. It didn't make any sense that Danny always stayed. He stayed.

"You stayed."

The blond grasped his bicep, rubbed his thumb across the inked skin. The gentle touch and soft smile diminished the following snark.

"Were you not listening, you Neanderthal? I didn't stay. I went to the grocery store."

"But... you came back... even after..."

"Yeah I did, babe. Of course I did. Seriously, Steven, it's like you don't even know me at all."

Steve couldn't help but chuckle at the familiar banter. Just a few hours ago he'd lost it in front of Danny, made a fool of himself, all but ignored him for weeks before that, but nothing had really changed.

"I know everything about you, Danno."

"Uh huh. Yet I can still surprise you." He ran his hand up and down his arm once, patted Steve's dark sleeve, and turned back to continue preparing the meal.

Steve's legs finally decided to work and he followed Danny into the room, sitting on a stool at the island opposite his friend. He reached over to grab a piece of pineapple from the salad bowl. Danny rapped his knuckles with the flat of the knife blade.

"What's with the salad, Danny? You only eat those when Grace makes your lunch. And pineapple? Maybe I should be worried about you."

"This salad is for you, dumbass."

Steve took a closer look at the pots and dishes strewn around the kitchen. Two pots on the stove with spaghetti and meat sauce, the salad, a foil-covered baking sheet with cheesy garlic bread waiting for the oven. A spaghetti dinner, Williams-style. It was the meal he made for Grace whenever she was feeling sad.

Danny looked up, studied Steve's face a bit longer, turned his attention back to the tomatoes that he was finishing up and putting into the bowl. Or so Steve thought.

"What's going on in that thick head of yours, McGarrett?"

Steve chewed on the inside of his lip, deciding on if, or how, to answer. Fuck it, he thought. Danny would either stand by him and help him, or he really would leave. At this point, Steve would take either option over how he was feeling now. He would find happiness, or he could attempt to rebuilt that wall he'd constructed under the tutelage of the McGarretts and the Navy.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"'Everything' is a lot of things, Steven. Care to be more specific?"

"I mean it – everything. I'm sorry for everything you've been through since you met me." I'm sorry for completely losing it on you today, he thought to himself.

"Hmm, everything, huh?" He turned off the burners and rounded the island again, almost stalking the taller man. "Everything like being my best friend? Like putting up with my own shit? Like helping me through everything with Matty? With Colombia? Being so amazing with Grace and now Charlie? I'm sorry, Steve, your apology is not accepted."

He grabbed the back of Steve's neck, making sure he had his undivided attention.

"I'll do everything I can to prove to you how much I love you, that I'll never leave you."

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Danny."

"Clearly I do."

"No, Danny, I—"

"No, you know what? You're right. I don't have to prove it. You already know I love you. You know I'll never leave you. What I need to prove to you is the one thing you refuse to accept: You deserve to be loved. You absolutely do not deserve to have the people that claim to love you make you doubt their love for you."

Steve closed his eyes, rested his forehead against Danny's, even if he tried to fight it for a moment. "I haven't done anything to deserve you, Danny."

"That's a load of shit, Steven. I can't even list all the ways that is not true. But even if you hadn't done a thing, babe... you are you. That's all you need to deserve love." Danny paused for a moment, letting that sink in as he scratched lightly at Steve's hairline, tried to smooth out the frown lines.

"Babe, you are going through even more shit than usual right now. You were bound to crack eventually. When I did, I let myself get hauled off to Colombia. And you brought me back from that, back to my Monkey. Not just from South America, but from the darkness. I've been climbing out of that thanks to you and Grace, and now Charlie.

"I am very happy that I do not need to track you down to some God forsaken country to haul your ass back, but I'm still gonna be here for you. You can't get rid of me. You got that? Because I've lost people, too, McGarrett, and it sucks. I'm not saying that to belittle what you're feeling. I'm just saying... I can't lose you, too."

Steve held on to Danny's arms hard enough to bruise, let out a long, slow breath, and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. He would never let Danny flounder if he knew something was wrong, if he could help, even a little bit. Steve would do anything to make him happy. And he was starting to realize that letting Danny help him would not only make Danny happy, but help him finish climbing out of that dark pit.

And maybe, on the other side, Steven could finally be happy, too. Maybe for the first time in his entire life. With Danny.

After all, that was pretty much all he'd wanted for the last six years.

His grip lightened, the tension in his body began to seep away. Danny pulled him closer.

"That's right, babe. I've got ya."