A/n: Steve and Danno are probably one of the most slashiest pairings in the history of color television. Seriously. They are the Old Married Couple, and I adore them both more than words can express. But by golly, I'm going to try!

This idea has probably been used a million times, and for good reason too - They're both constantly getting themselves into near-death-situations, and bullet wounds and broken bones are almost something of an everyday occurrence. So this is my take on when Danny gets pretty banged up in the line of duty, and Steve finally realizes that he wants to sex him up for the rest of their somewhat ambivalent future.

About damn time, McGarrett. About damn time.

He was too pale, too quiet. That loud mouth wasn't running, and those golden hands weren't flapping through the air in an impassioned mid-rant-gesticulation. His eyes were too closed, their ocean depths [their bold brightness] tucked away. Danny looked so damn unnatural in that hospital bed. He was ensconced by sterile, white sheets and fastened to all manner of tubes and wires. The air was stale with silence and antibiotics.

It hurt. It hurt Steve to see his partner like this. It hurt so much more than he figured it would. He grit his teeth against the urge to yell, as his heart wilted into something miserable and black. Simply breathing became a goddamn chore. He pressed calloused fingertips to his temples, trying [in vain] to massage away the seemingly permanent ache. Steve looked down at his partner with a thick mist in his eyes. This was his fault.

He should've seen it coming. Steve hissed. He should be the one lying in that hospital bed, a punctured lung rattling in his chest. Not Danny, never Danny. He had a daughter that needed him to be around for a long while, and [now that he was forced to contemplate a life without] Steve could admit that he needed Danny too.

He needed him like he needed air, or water. It's a necessity, and you don't realize how much you should cherish it until you're left gasping. Damnit, was he gasping. He laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly and ignoring how cool and limp they felt. His insides were a roiling mass of terrified knots and leaden weights. He was scared, so scared, and he didn't know what to do.

"You need to wake up, Danno. Goddamnit, please." He was begging now, but he thought that might be okay given the situation. Doctor Mau'i assured him that Danny would recover, that he would wake up in good time. But what if he didn't? An overwhelming bout of nausea swelled up. He couldn't stomach the thought. He crumpled over the side of the bed, pressing his cheek to crisp sheets. He breathed in the subdued scent of his partner, but it wasn't enough to calm the frantic pounding of his heart.

It was only at the sound of careful feet padding across the linoleum that he roused himself. He lifted his head to see a familiar nurse. Her lips were pulled back in the softest of smiles, but he couldn't find it in himself to return the sentiment. She quietly moved around the bed, and busied herself with adjusting Danny's morphine intake. Steve was content to remain in silence, wallowing in his own self pity.

"You care for him very much." Her voice was light and breezy [and not at all expected]. Steve frowned. It served no purpose to deny the obvious, so he gave a gruff nod. He did care for Danny. Maybe a little more than he should. Her warm, cinnamon eyes sparkled, as if she could see straight through him.

"Have you told him how you feel?"

Steve blinked.

...What? How he feels? "I'm not sure I follow." He said slowly. Her smile grew bigger and brighter, and it made him oddly nervous. She looked at Danny. "You love him." It wasn't a question, but a confident statement. Steve near choked to death on his own tongue. "Love?" He sputtered. "No, I don't! Not...like that. He's just my partner." Somehow, he doesn't sound very sure of himself.

She managed to convey a troubling mixture of amusement and disbelief with the raising of a single brow. "Yes, he is your partner." Her meaningful emphasis of the word had embers of embarrassment rising to his cheeks. "We're not a couple! We're detectives, we just work together. That's it." Steve hears the disappointment coloring his own voice, and it stuns him. What does he have to be disappointed about? He isn't romantically interested in his partner. He isn't!

She only laughs, the sound sweet and tinkling. "I see." Her tone is just on this side of mocking. Steve glared knives and daggers. The very last thing he needs is a discussion on his nonexistent feelings of repressed love for his partner, especially not with a complete stranger. "Don't you have other patients to attend to?" And yeah, his voice may have sounded a little sharp, a little cold. Her smile was one of pure understanding.

She left the room as quietly as she entered, and Steve was alone with the heaviness of his thoughts.

He couldn't bring himself to leave Danny's side. Not to eat, and not to sleep. He would only use the facilities under threat of suspension. So when Chin brings him a large slice from Lalani's, he inhales it in seconds. He determinedly ignores the raised eyebrow he gets from his subordinate. "When was the last time you ate something, Boss?"

Steve gave a half - hearted shrug. "Don't really remember."

Chin frowned at the lackluster reply. "I know you're worried about him, we all are, but he wouldn't want you to sit here and waste away." He clapped a firm hand against Steve's hunched back, hoping to deliver some sense of reassurance. Steve didn't look up from the rumpled sheets.

"I know." His voice was low and gravelly, as if small stones were jumping around in his throat.

Steve had never sounded so beat down, and it tore Chin apart to see him in such a pitiful state. Danny has been injured in the line of duty before, but never so grievously. Steve was taking it hard. He and Kono both knew how strongly they felt for one another, but neither would admit to the suffocating tension between them. If Steve and Danny were anything, they were stubborn as all hell. Chin exhaled with a mighty flourish.

"So have you told him yet?" He crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his shirt threatening to rip. Chin was quite tired of beating around the bush. Steve had the decency to look confused. "Told who what?" He feigned ignorance.

"Danny. Have you told him how you feel?"

Steve's jaw promptly unhinged. "Wha- ?! I'm not in love with Danny!"

"Denial is never healthy."

"I'm not in denial!" Steve grit his teeth at the absurdity of such an accusation. Why did everyone think him to be in love with Danny, when their relationship was very obviously a platonic one? He pinned Chin with an acerbic glare. "Shouldn't you be finding the son of a bitch that did this?" He bit out. Chin held his palms up in a placating manner. "Kono's on it. She put out a trace on his cellphone and license plate number. As of right now, there's little else we can do."

The defensive anger was quick to melt out of him. "I'm sorry for snapping like that. I know you're doing everything you can. You're doing much more than Iam, but I...I can't bring myself to leave him alone." He said weakly, his voice threatening to crack under the weight of all that pent up emotion. Chin shook his head.

"This is where you need to be, boss. Danny needs you here to watch over him."

"He's been sleeping for a really long time." Grace's sweet, childish voice was dampened with worry and fear. She stroked small fingers along her father's jaw, course with stubble, and nestled her face against his throat. It drove a cold spike straight through his heart. Steve rested a warm hand on her bony back. "He's been through alot, Monkey. He needs all the sleep he can get to properly recover."

She nodded, pressing deeper into Danny's side. "What do you think he's dreaming about?" The soft question caught him off guard. He studied his partner with an unnatural intensity, and considered his answer carefully. "I think he's dreaming of his little monkey, his camaro, maybe an old case he worked back in Jersey." Grace giggled at his wry answer. She smiled an intelligent smile.

"I don't think that's what Danno is dreaming about." She shook her head, spun gold spilling over her shoulders. She caught his eye, and it unnerved him to see her looking so clever and knowledgeable. "I think he's dreaming about you, Uncle Steve." She sounded sure of herself, but Steve was doubtful. He raised a curious eyebrow. "What makes you think that?" She grinned toothily up at him.

"Sometimes Danno talks in his sleep. He says your name a lot." Another childish bubble of laughter. Steve balked at this delightful [no, definitely not delightful] revelation. Danny dreamed about him? A fluttering warmth took root in his belly. He smiled a silly smile. "You don't say." Even his voice chimed in a stupidly happy way. Grace gave a floppy nod. "He talks about you when he's awake too. He tries to sound angry, but he's always smiling."

Without realizing it, his fingers were threading through thick, combed - back tresses. His face was shining with so much love, and he was oblivious to how utterly dopey he looked. Grace waved a small hand in front of his face, effectively awakening him from his stupor. She smiled up at him, as if she knew.

"Does Danno make you happy too, Uncle Steve?" She blinked up at him, and Steve didn't have to think twice.

"Yes." He murmured. Danny did make him happy. He made him very happy. Happier than he could ever remember being. Of course, Danny. It was always Danny. And was Steve really so foolish [so blind!] to not have realized this earlier? Was it too much to ask for a more opportune moment to have a life-altering-epiphany?

Danny would just have to wake up, and Steve would just have to make it count.

It was a tremendously slow five days, six hours, ten minutes, and fifteen seconds until Danny finally woke. And no, Steve was definitely not counting. The room was shrouded in crawling darkness and the withering quiet of early morning, and Steve's eyelids were beginning to teeter precariously over his weary eyes. He had spent hours upon hours just staring at his incapacitated partner, memorizing every fine line and perfectly placed feature.

But he was tired. Steve dropped into the stiff cushions of the hospital chair [he could officially call his own], his spine wholeheartedly disagreeing but his mind too hazy to care. His eyes were closing, his mouth falling open, his breathing began to even out, and sleep was beautifully close. Just as he was departing from the conscious world, a barely sound broke through his sleepy brume.

It was something akin to a garbled moan, and it took Steve a moment to place it. An electrical jolt of awakeness ripped through him, and his eyes slammed open. He scrambled up in his seat and crunched over the side of the bed, staring into Danny's face with desperation. His eyes were flickering wildly under his lids, and Steve held his breath. "Come on, Danno, come on." He urged. And almost as if Danny heard his soft pleas, sandy lashes fluttered over round cheeks.

Only a matter of second before familiar blues were blinking up at him, and God, how Steve had missed them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd openly wept, but now the urge was almost too much. Relief and joy and love swam rampant through his veins like competing Olympic swimmers. "Steve?" His voice was raspy and broken from disuse, but it was still the single most gorgeous sound Steve had ever heard.

He twined his fingers with Danny's and squeezed tightly. "I'm right here, Danny. I'm right beside you." He was whispering now, and Danny looked so confused. "What happened, Steve?" He managed to get out between dry coughs. Steve unconsciously tightened his hold on Danny's hand. "Do you remember Carlos Hila?" Danny nodded slowly, unsurely. "He murdered his wife in cold blood." He said, his mouth twisting in faint disgust.

"We went to his house to arrest him, but..." He cleared his throat of its sudden thickness. "But he was waiting for us. He was armed with a .44 Magnum, and he fired off a round through the walls before we even knew what the hell was happening. Chin got clipped in the shoulder, but you took a bullet to the chest. You've been recovering from a punctured lung."

Danny inhaled sharply. "But I was wearing my vest." He choked out.

"They were full metal jacket rounds." Danny gave him a fairly gobsmacked look. He shrugged helplessly. "Doctor Mau'i managed to retrieve the bullet from your lung."

"How long was I out?"

Steve cringed. "Six days."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat yourself? Because it sounded like you said sixdays."

"I did say six days."

"Seriously, Steve, stop joking. You know your jokes aren't funny."

"I'm not joking, Danny."

"Six days?" He cried out, his eyes growing round and dark in horror. Steve chewed his lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood. "It felt so much longer than that." He croaked, lowering his eyes. Danny pressed against the soft skin of Steve's inner wrist, frowning in concern. "Are you okay?"

Steve didn't respond for a lengthy second, he couldn't find the right words. "I...I was scared." He whispered raggedly. "I was scared that you...that you wouldn't wake up."

"Steve..."

"And every day that you were unconscious, I thought about how much I..." Steve was staring hard at their interlocked fingers, his teeth grinding nervously against one another. "I realized some things, Danno. Important things." Their eyes met hotly, and Steve struggled to convey his meaning. Danny blinked, partly in confusion and partly in wonder. "What things?" He breathed.

"I..." A weighty silence settled over them. Steve was desperately attempting to gather himself, scrambling to find those words, but this was difficult. Words and emotions were difficult. "You're very special...to me. And I realized that - that I don't think I can be happy if you aren't with me. I care about you, Danno. A lot. Probably more than I should. I mean - What I mean to say is that I..." His cheeks were essential bunsen burners, but he pressed on. A deep breath, and then -

"I love you."

A stunned quietness, and then he had an arm full of Danny Williams. Warm breath was moistening his neck, eyelashes were fluttering excitedly against his jaw, arms tightened around his neck. It was the best feeling, and nothing would ever come close. Steve wound his arms around Danny's lower back, nestling his nose in fragrant, sunny locks. "Danno - "

"I love you too, Steve." Those muffled words set his heart soaring. "I just thought...you could never feel the same." And he sounded wounded, and it broke Steve apart.

"Why would you possibly think that?"

Danny jerked back to stare at him in disbelief. "Seriously? You're Steve McGarrett, Super Seal and professional badass. You're middle name is practically masculine. You don't exactly seem the type to..."

"Fuck my very male partner to the brink of insanity?" He finished with a cocky smirk.

"Yeah, let's go with that." Danny deadpanned. Steve grinned widely, feeling more happy and whole than he had in a long while. "I'm not gay, Danny. I'm not attracted to men, just you. You're the only one who makes my palms sweat and my knees go weak. You're the only one I want to take to bed, and you're definitely the only one I want to spend my life with."

"Was that a marriage proposal, Steven? Because it was unbelievably romantic." He raised a teasing brow, and Steve pressed a lazy kiss to the fine, gold arch. "Maybe it was. Would you say yes?" He left more, wet pecks down Danny's face. Over his eyelids, across the bridge of his nose, peppered across his cheekbones, down the strong curve of his jaw, teasing the side of his mouth.

"You have to ask?" Danny tilted his head, brushing his lips across Steve's cracked ones.

"Well, it's only polite. I know I'm irresistible, but I don't want to assume."

"The more you talk, the less I want to marry you."

Steve chuckled deeply. "I should probably stop talking then."

Danny smiled brilliantly, pink lips pulling back across white teeth, eyes glistening. "Agreed. Your mouth can be used for better things." Dark eyes grew darker.

"Like what?" Steve's voice lowered a few notches, vibrating in his throat like an angry hummingbird.

"Like kissing me to the brink of insanity."

That was all the hint Steve needed, and their mouths crashed hard enough to hurt. Steve licked at Danny's bottom lip until it trembled open for him, and he snaked his tongue in to visit. It was all simmering wetness and slick teeth and flickering tongues, and Steve was cultivating a new addiction. He crawled on top of his writhing partner and pressed him into the mattress, their hips colliding harshly and their palms sliding together intimately.

Neither noticed Danny's rapidly climbing heartbeat [as broadcasted by the obnoxious blaring of the heart monitor] until a harried nurse flew into the room with a clatter. They promptly lurched apart, and turned to gape at the intruder in mutual horror. Steve recognized her to be the same, disturbingly insightful nurse from five days earlier, and winced. Why her, of all nightshift nurses?

They all stared at one another for a dragging moment. Then she smiled that smile. "It was only a matter of time."