Disclaimer: Not mine. I borrowed them and I broke them. Can't promise I'll return them fixed.

Summary: While Danny is about to receive the results of some tests, Steve ... isn't dealing.
Warning: non-specific cancer scare. Proceed with caution if the subject matter might affect you.

Betaed: by VeraSteine and BigJ52. Thank you girls so much!

A/N: Written for LJ holidayswap challenge. It's a kind of backwards interpretation of a prompt "Hurt or Sick!Danny". You know I'm a hurt!Steve!girl, right? Well, what can I do? *shrug* ;)

Within the Cage

'T is better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all
~Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The hum of air-conditioning, the faint smell of Chin's herbal tea, Kono's and Chin's raised voices in the bullpen muffled by the glass walls and closed door - it all blends into a seemingly normal day of rare office work. Those are necessary, as Danny so often points out, because of the amount of paperwork their methods of investigation generate.

Danny-

Steve sits at his desk and he would be pulling his hair out in sheer frustration over the case report, if he didn't know that writing it was his duty this time. Danny has other problems on his plate.

Kono's voice grows louder outside of his small bubble of privacy and then she bursts it completely, opening the door with such force it bounces off the table in the corner.

"What are you doing here?" she spits, arms folded across her chest.

Steve looks up and spreads his hands instead of answering. He's working, is that a crime?

"You let him go alone!" Kono points out.

"Kono." Chin's right behind her. He places a hand on her arm, but she shruggs it off.

"Danny went to the hospital to get friggin' histopathology results. And we agreed that he shouldn't do it alone. Steve agreed that he shouldn't go alone!" She points an accusing finger in his direction. "He said he would be there!"

Steve closes his eyes and sighs. He had known from the very start that including the team on the matter would be a mistake, but Danny hadn't wanted to lie about why he'd needed surgery. A procedure, really - he had been out of office for one day and a weekend afterwards, could have easily made something up. Instead he'd cited friendship and trust and circles of support, so Steve hadn't said a word against the idea. Now Danny's out there, waiting for the doctors to tell him if what they cut out was bad, while Steve has to deal with their friends' indignation and righteousness. He wants to tell Kono that he's got a job to do - 'cause he does, damn it - but he doesn't believe she'll buy the excuse.

"It's not like me holding his hand would change the outcome," he says instead and it startles him how dry his throat feels. Where's that bottle of water he took from the fridge five minutes ago? Steve stands up and crosses the room, careful to avoid getting near both cousins.

Kono snorts. "Are you for real, boss?" She obviously waits for him to react, but he ignores her, uncaps his bottle and takes a long swig. "It's not about changing the outcome; it's about not letting him face bad news all by himself! Kind of like a back-up. Ever heard of it?"

"What makes you think Danny wouldn't rather be alone with this?" And honestly, Steve isn't sure if his presence would be helpful, or rather a nuisance. Yes, he convinces himself, that's the reason he's here, instead of there. Sometimes showing support means getting out of somebody's way.

"Would you?" Chin asks and Steve can't understand why this concept is so strange. Have neither of them ever wanted to curl up in a dark room to lick their wounds in solitude?

Apparently not.

"What makes me think-?" Kono pauses then puffs out, "I don't know. Maybe because I wouldn't want to be on my own if the situation was reversed?"

"Yeah?" Steve turns to her, suddenly fed up with their bullshit, their holier-than-thou attitude. "Then why don't you go and be all cuddly, huh?"

Kono takes a step back, eyes wide. Steve can't name the emotion on her face and it's creepy how amusing he finds it. She looks like a character cut out of cardboard; she gestures and yaps like any good puppet. "I'm not his partner!" she states. Steve knows she's not talking about them being paired up in the field, but it doesn't matter. This thing between him and Danny ... It's physical attraction, is all. Strange, because last week he'd have named it something else but that was then. This is how he feels right now. Kono may go to Hell.

She shakes her head. "You know, you're probably right; you shouldn't be there. Danny needs someone who's a little less callous than you are."

She storms out of his office and maybe she's going to meet Danny at the doctor's. Which is good, all things considered. Danny needs a friend, she says. Maybe. If he does, it should be someone who cares and Steve's not able to give him that. He can fill out the paperwork, he can do the chores-

"Look," Chin says and Steve starts. He'd forgotten about him completely. "I know that it's tough on you too-" Steve cuts him off.

"I'm okay, Chin." Chin's a paper character too. He stands there with his brow furrowed and eyes squinted but there's no way of telling what it means. It's beautiful, because it makes it easier for Steve to tell him to leave. He has a job to do, he has responsibilities. He's their boss and if Danny is so sick that he'll be out of commission for a longer period of time, Steve has to find a substitution.

A thought about being partnered with someone else out there makes Steve's stomach do back-flips but he steadies it with a gulp of water, then sets the bottle firmly on his desk. Next to the stack of papers and another, full, only-just-opened one.

They got a call yesterday morning, from Duke at HPD, about a meet-up between some bad guys they'd been tracking for a while. Five-0 - sans Danny, because he was still not fit after the surgery - geared up. They were at the scene in eight minutes, backed up by the HPD guys. Procedures were respected and precautions were taken and things went to Hell anyway. One police officer and two felons were wounded, one perp dead.

Steve checked his pulse, announced he was gone. And then his cell vibrated against his thigh.

He knew it was Danny and he knew that Danny knew the action was over, because he was tapped into the police radio. Steve let it vibrate though, went about his duties and forgot about it entirely until Chin came up to him and asked why he didn't pick up Danny's call; Danny was worried.

He hadn't felt it vibrate, he said. And he didn't spare it another thought.

"Hi," says Danny. He's standing in the doorframe watching Steve and how was Steve so inattentive that he didn't notice him enter the office? He glances through the blinds and sees that Kono's back as well. She's talking to Chin and, although Steve can't see her expression too clearly, he thinks her anger has vanished. She speaks in a voice so low not even a murmur reaches his ears. She has her arms folded across her chest, her eyes cast in one spot above Chin's stomach.

Steve's heart is hammering. It's absurd, this response. Steve tries to tell his body it's overreacting but no ammount of convincing makes his pulse slow down. He takes a sip, hoping the coolness of water will help, but it's not cold anymore; it's lukewarm and he thinks maybe he should put both bottles back in the refrigerator.

Danny steps in, closing the door behind him so Steve finally rasps a "hi" of his own. Then he adds, unnecessarily, "I didn't see you come in."

Of course Danny knows this. He chuckles, "No kidding." He nears Steve's desk, hands in pockets, and peers at the computer screen. "What's so engrossing?"

"Reports," Steve pushes the word out of his mouth. He would tell Danny that he wanted to do this to help, that's how he wanted to help, but it might come out wrong, because it's no help, really, if all the documents are still blank. "I think I'm not suited-" he mutters instead.

"I could have told you that," Danny quips. "It's good I'll have all that time at the office now to take care of that," he tries but the joke falls flat. Steve doesn't know how to respond.

Danny sighs and turns his back to Steve. Takes a step, takes his time to sit in the armchair. He's so uncharacteristically still, his hands in his lap, only tips of his fingers in minute motion. But he watches Steve with eyes so intense it makes Steve momentarily dizzy. When he speaks, his voice is quiet as before but words cut through to the bone, "What is the matter with you?"

Steve blinks, taken aback. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Well, you look like you need to be asked."

"I . . . no. I mean yes," Steve stutters. "I-I'm good." Not like this. "Not good-good, but-" Damn. He shakes his head, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in through his nose and exhales slowly. Then he opens his eyes and he knows he's focused again. He's in control.

"How are you?"

Danny shrugs and lowers his gaze. "As was to be expected." He stands up, puts his hands back in his pockets. "Don't want to talk about it. Had enough of it with-" He gestures vaguely in the direction of the bullpen, and all that is enough of an answer. Steve knows; histopathology confirmed what they'd suspected, the news is bad and they are about to face a massive challenge. Actually, on some level he knew it from the start, from the moment this conversation began.

"Kono was pissed that you didn't come," Danny says and this time his voice sounds hollow and distant, like there's some vast expanse between them, although he stands right next to Steve. He faces the glass cabinet and ship models within. "I was not," he speaks after infinitely long time. "Pissed. I was not pissed. I told you I didn't want you to make a big deal out of it and you didn't. That's fine." He turns slowly to face Steve. He's made of wood and plastic like those ship models, a model of a man, and he's huge, surreally so. He'd be intimidating if he wasn't Danny. "Is it too much?" he asks suddenly and Steve draws a blank.

He doesn't speak, because he doesn't know what the question is. Danny continues after a while in a voice not his own, wooden, lacking inflection, almost incomprehensible. Or maybe it's just how Steve perceives it and it's wrong, because that's not Danny. Danny is boisterous, energetic, emotional. "I need to know this, Steve. I need to know who I can count on." He tears his eyes away from Steve's and fixes them on his shoes, on the floor. "It's selfish, I know, because I understand why it is hard on you and I want to spare you but-" He hides his face in his hands, wipes his forehead, then spreads them apart and glares at Steve again. "I can't do this, okay? Not this time. I have to think of me. I thought that Chin and Kono could help you but you won't let them in, will you?"

They were making love when Steve fingered that bump. He'd never believed that the expression "it made him freeze" could be taken literally, but at this moment he felt so cold he shivered.

"Steve?" Danny moaned, still turned on, while Steve's focus had already shifted. "Ouch!" he gasped when Steve pressed harder.

"Does it hurt?" Steve wasn't sure if he managed to ask the question out loud, but Danny leaned forward and touched himself.

"What the-?" When he looked up at Steve, his eyes were dark in a white face. Then he gripped Steve's arms. "Hey! Steve, easy, breathe. It's probably nothing." He stood up, wrapped a sheet around himself and started pacing. "I'll go and have it checked, okay, but it's not a big deal, you hear me? Will you stop making faces, Steven? I don't need you freaking out on me here!" He kept talking and Steve thawed gradually, regained his ability to move. He swore to himself he wouldn't let his mind wander where it had gone to initially; the concept of losing Danny was impossible to take in.

"What the hell just happened?" Chin's urgent question wakes Steve from his stupor.

He isn't sure what happened. Has Danny broken up with him? He was afraid to lose Danny and now he doesn't have to be afraid any longer. Shouldn't he feel relieved?

He feels heavier instead, somehow ... colder maybe?

"It's what Danny wants," he reasons, as much for Chin's sake as for his own. "If that's how he needs ... He said he needed to know and I understand that. I get that. It's ... what he needs."

"So, you're doing this for him?" Why does Chin make it sound like it's absurd? "You're letting him go, because you believe that's what he needs?"

"Essentially, yeah."

"What if he's lying? What if he just said that to give you-"

"What do you want from me, Chin?" Steve springs to his feet. He's had enough, both Kono and Chin telling him what he should do, what Danny needs, what he expects. He knows. He spoke to Danny, they had talked from the very first moment Steve had found that bulge and he'd frozen and Danny had said, "Let's not make a big deal of it, it's probably nothing." Since then, all he's done was take his cue from Danny. If Danny said, "You don't have to come with," he didn't go and if Danny said, "Let's end this," all he could do was agree. Steve meets Chin's eyes and there's all this puzzlement and concern in them - like he's real again. "I can't read his mind. I don't know the things he's not telling me."

"He can't read your mind either."

This makes no sense. "I don't want him to read my mind."

"Then why don't you tell him that you love him and that you don't want him to go!"

"Because I don't."

This makes Chin pause. He furrows his brow, "You don't ... Don't ... what?"

"I don't love him."

It's not what he thought he'd hear, obviously, but Steve doesn't really know what else he could have expected. He doesn't want to know, he's too tired of guessing and waiting and of not being sure.

He sits back, hides his face in his hands, and hopes, for everything that's holy, that Chin leaves him alone. He needs a moment to gather his wits about him, because it dawns on him that he's been acting strange. He thinks he knows why - it's because he hasn't been sleeping for a few days. It shouldn't have messed him up this bad. He's a SEAL and sleep deprivation is an integral part of his life. Going five days without sleep shouldn't have made him this unbalanced and Steve is certain that, if only they'd given him a moment to regenerate, he would find his precious equilibrium.

But Chin is relentless.

"Did you tell him that?" he asks in a voice barely above a whisper and Steve is forced to look up at him

"Of course not!"

"Then maybe you should lie?"

Lie? Is he for real? Chin looks at him like he knows something Steve doesn't and Steve thinks he should get used to that already. Lying to Danny, however, about something like this - their feelings, their relationship - it feels inappropriate.

"Think about why you didn't want to tell him you didn't love him," Chin's voice is so low Steve isn't certain if he's really said that, or if these are only his own thoughts. The answer is rather simple: he didn't say it, because he didn't want to hurt Danny, he'd never do anything to hurt Danny. So perhaps, by association, telling him that he ... loved ... Steve swallows hard and his heart quickens again, painfully. He forces himself to finish that thought - perhaps that would actually help?

"I'll talk to him." Steve makes his decision and once he does there's no turning back. He's on his feet and out of his office in one swift motion, Chin left behind.

Danny's not in the Headquarters anymore.

"He was tired-" Kono starts but Steve brushes past her.

He's out on the corridor, then stumbles down the stairs and he doesn't give a damn if people are glaring at him like he's lost his mind. Perhaps he has. Still no trace of Danny. Into the parking lot. He sees the Camaro's tail lights in the ohia tree shade.

Too late.

Or maybe not? Steve pulls out his phone. He has to call Danny.

He thinks back to why he dreads it so much.

To how all this anxiety started.

Five days ago Danny had his surgery. He called Steve as soon as he was in the recovery, to let him know that everything went well and to pick him up in a couple of hours.

Five nights ago, Steve dreamt about Danny calling him from the operating room, where Wo Fat's people were cutting into him, cutting him to pieces. Steve couldn't do anything about it, he could only listen. Danny was screaming and Steve was running through a hospital corridor with the phone pressed against his ear, the speaker filled with the sounds of torture, but he was at a wrong hospital, or maybe on another continent and there was no way he would reach Danny on time.

He begged, he threatened and he searched frantically, opening one door after another, his vest heavy and tight, MP5 jostling against his legs. Danny was nowhere to be found; he was at the wrong place and he was helpless, powerless against the enemy. Then, there was a single shot and Steve woke up with a gasp.

He wouldn't go to sleep again. He wouldn't think about what this dream was really about. He had promised himself that he wouldn't lose anyone he loved, ever again, and if the only way to do it was to not love...

This is not the way, though, he thinks glaring at the goofy photograph of Danny smirking at him from the screen of his cell. He presses 'dial'. His heart is in his throat as he counts the seconds and the beeps on the other end of the connection.

Then there's a crack and, "Steve?"

The voice, through the speaker, headless, coming from the vacuum of uncertainty ... it's more than Steve can handle, and the world comes crashing down on him. All he can force out is a sob.

"What's wrong with you?" There's urgency in Danny's tone. "I'm coming back!" And this is enough to sober Steve up.

"No," he gasps, "I'm fine. I'm okay, Danny, this isn't about me, it shouldn't be."

"Steve-"

"No, I mean it. Hear me out. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I got caught up in the past, in ..." The memories flood him again, the inevitability, the helplessness borne out of immeasurable distance. He couldn't reach out, he couldn't change the outcome; he could only listen.

"I know," Danny whispers and his voice is so warm. "You big goof. I've known all along. You-"

"Stop." Steve is calm once more. This is different. If not for any other reason, then simply because Danny is in his sight again. Steve straightens up and doesn't take his eyes off the Camaro pulling back into its usual spot, for even a moment. "You." he speaks into the phone. "We have to focus on you."

When Danny steps out of the car, Steve hangs up and walks toward him, then starts running - he can't help it. He's handled this phone conversation. He couldn't see Danny's face, couldn't touch him to make sure he was whole but enough is enough. He needs to look now, to hold, he needs to feel. The body, solid as ever, the arms, surrounding him, making Danny tangible, real. "Hush." Danny's breath on his neck is hot, alive and Steve's eyes sting when he whispers, "I love you." If the way it hurts so much, pierces down to the bone is any indication - he's telling the truth.

"I know, you goof." Danny plants a kiss on the wet spot right next to his nose. "I love you too." Then adds, timidly, but with determination, "And I always will."

.end

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Lost Love
(From "In Memoriam", fragment)

I envy not in any moods
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods;

I envy not the beast that takes
His license in the field of time,
Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The heart that never plighted troth
But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'T is better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

.

Thank you for reading.