[Hawaii Five-0] Steve/Danny - Kauoha (part 1)
Title: Kauoha (“to order or command”) (part 1 of 4)
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 30,000
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hawaii Five-0/Ella Enchanted fusion. Danny is cursed with obedience. He must obey any order given to him.
Warnings: Due to the particulars of Danny's curse, certain situations he is placed in are dub-con or non-con in nature. This does not pertain to any experiences/situations/scenes of a sexual nature - any sex in the story is consensual.
Spoilers: Story goes AU after episode 1x22. Episode-specific spoilers throughout season 1, episode-heavy spoilers for 1x08, 1x16, and 1x18
Notes: This story ATE MY LIFE. Huge thanks to my beta, sirona_gs, for being brutally honest and telling me what needed work. This story wouldn’t be what it is without her help. Also, thank you to annundriel and popkin16 for being hugely supportive during the entire writing process, and being willing to bounce ideas with me at odd times of the day. And to everyone else on my twitter who contributed something at any point, thank you! *smishes*
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 at my journal | AO3 | Soundtrack
Kauoha (“to order or command”)
“Freedom is independence of the compulsory will of another, and in so far as it tends to exist with the freedom of all according to a universal law, it is the one sole original inborn right belonging to every man in virtue of his humanity.” -Immanuel Kant
-----
Danny’s parents never talked about the curse.
He’d had it for as long as he could remember, but whenever he asked his mom and dad, they always sidestepped it. They called it his “condition”, and cast sidelong glances until Danny wanted to yell and shake his fists with rage. Finally, to curb his questions, they simply ordered him to stop asking about it.
Danny’s mouth snapped shut, compelled by the power in his parents’ words. An order. A direct order. Something he could not disobey, even though he longed to.
Danny found ways of working around it, insomuch as he was able. He tried to keep people at a distance, lest they suspect something was different about him. He never had any desire to tell someone, not that it would have mattered, as his father had expressly forbidden him from it. Danny became good at paying close attention to the inflection in people’s voices. Sometimes there was an implied question mark hanging off the end of a poorly-worded phrase, and at such times it was easier to hold off the pounding headache that resulted from disobeying an order.
Growing up, Danny didn’t know if his headstrong attitude was because of his curse, or in spite of it. When Matty began asking questions, Danny tried not to feel bitter about the fact that his little brother didn’t have the same…impediment. It was only him. Danny’s parents made it very clear to Matty that he was never to take advantage of his brother’s “condition”, or tell anyone else about it. It helped some that Danny’s sister, Jo, was fiercely protective of him.
“Danny, can I have some of your ice cream?” Matty asked. They were at the zoo. It was the day after Danny’s birthday, and he was proudly sporting one of his birthday gifts, a plastic police badge and pair of handcuffs. Jo had walked on ahead with mom and dad, who carried their baby sister, Anna.
“No, you shouldn’t have eaten yours so quickly,” Danny said, sticking his tongue out.
Matty pouted. “I could make you share,” he said.
Danny glared at him. “You wouldn’t. Mom would ground you for a month.”
Matty opened his mouth to speak. Danny punched him in the arm before he could say anything. He handcuffed Matt to the bars by the monkey cage and ran off, covering his ears with his hands lest Matt demand to be set loose. The ice cream was abandoned on the ground.
Danny was grounded a week for his stunt, but it was worth it. And Matty never threatened to take advantage of the curse again.
--
To some, joining the police force might not seem like the wisest of career options for somebody in Danny’s…situation, but Danny had always known what he wanted to do. Being forced to obey commands had given him a certain respect for the rules society lived by, and he wanted to see those laws carried out. And he didn’t want to let anything, least of all a curse, stand in his way.
Danny’s training officer had been impressed with his ability to follow instructions and learn quickly from mistakes, and for the first time it seemed there was a way to use the curse to his benefit. Someone said, “do this,” and he did it. They said, “no, not like that,” and he corrected himself until it was right.
Danny never told anyone about the curse, but that didn’t stop the occasional person from finding out. Like Mick, Danny’s partner of over a year. The incidental commands were the worst, the things people said without thinking; “Chill out,” “hang in there,” and the like. Mick noticed, and brought it up with Danny. There was only so much Danny could say, bound by the command issued by his father years ago, but Mick got the gist. Miraculously, their working relationship was unaffected. If anything, Danny felt more at ease, knowing if someone issued him a direct order without thinking, Mick could negate it.
Of course, for all that Danny had found ways of working with his curse instead of against it, there were still awkward, unforeseen moments which could arise.
“Tell us who you’re working with,” Danny said to their suspect, one Jerry from East Orange.
“Go fuck yourself,” Jerry spat.
Danny gritted he teeth against the sudden wave of compulsion that hit him. Orders like this were the worst, when his mind didn’t know whether he had to take the words literally or not. His body certainly had an idea; he was hard and straining against the inseam of his trousers.
Sweat broke out on Danny’s brow as he fought against the flippantly thrown insult that the curse couldn’t distinguish from an actual command. And then came the headache, the migraine-level pain that had him seeing bright spots on his vision. Oh, fuck how was this his life, that he had a hard-on in an interrogation room?
Mick put a hand on Danny’s shoulder, flashing him a sympathetic look. “Danny, don’t,” he said, quietly, so only Danny could hear.
Danny relaxed, tension draining from his body as he was released from the command. He was shaken, though, and Mick could tell.
“I can finish here, if you like,” he said.
He was giving Danny an out, phrasing his words in such a way that there were choices, and Danny was grateful for it. He nodded, taking his leave of the room.
Six months later, Mick was killed in a crossfire, a stray bullet hitting his neck. Afterwards, the medics had to tell Danny to take the pressure off the wound; Mick was already long gone.
--
Danny hadn’t really given much thought to marrying. It was better for him to keep people at a distance; less risky that way.
Of course, then he met Rachel. And she was witty, intelligent, beautiful-and seemed to like him for all of his Jersey charm. It was no wonder he wanted to marry her. But then, there was the problem of his curse. He wanted to tell her, he truly did, but his father’s command prevented him from doing it in so many words.
Rachel was perceptive, though, she picked up that something was wrong.
“What’s troubling you, Daniel?”
“It’s…” Danny began, and the words were on the tip of his tongue, but they wouldn’t come out. His father’s words echoed in his mind. Never, under any circumstances, tell anyone about your condition. Don’t write about it, either…If people know, they’ll only use it to take advantage of you. “It’s nothing,” he finished.
“Tell me,” Rachel prompted.
And there it was, the impulse to do as Rachel had directed, but her words were in direct conflict with his father’s. Danny opened his mouth again to answer, but nothing issued forth. It seemed that Rachel’s order couldn’t override the ties which forced his silence on the matter. A dull pain began to build between his eyes as he found himself unable to fulfill his directive.
“I…can’t.”
Rachel arched an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I mean I’m…not able.” It was difficult to get the words out, but Danny threw as much weight as he could into them, hoping that at least some of his meaning might come across in what he couldn’t say. Or that Rachel might read into his stare and arm gesticulations.
“What, are you under orders, or something?”
Christ, it was like punching water, every word and movement felt like a struggle against a current. He gave a stiff nod. “I can’t. I want to, but I’m not…physically able. To tell you.”
Rachel had a look of befuddlement on her face. Danny didn’t blame her; what he was saying probably sounded impossible and bizarre. Still, something in Danny’s own expression must have conveyed his earnestness, because Rachel’s face softened after a moment.
“So,” she began, tentative, “You’re incapable of telling me…because you were ordered not to?”
Danny nodded. It was easier now. The order given to him by his father hadn’t prevented people guessing. And his headache was lessening now that he wasn’t working in direct conflict with the curse.
“And is…does what you want to tell me directly relate to the…circumstances preventing you?”
“Yes,” Danny said, relieved that he could feel his headache lifting, the words coming easier now that Rachel was catching on.
Rachel stared at him for a while, brows furrowed. It was clear she was close to the truth, was perhaps even entertaining thoughts of what the truth was, but the impossibility of it was drawing her up short.
“You can’t talk about it…” Rachel began slowly. Danny shook his head. “What about writing, can you write it down for me?”
Danny shook his head again. C’mon Rach, you’re so close to figuring it out.
“But…you can tell me if I’m right?” At Danny’s nod, Rachel continued, emboldened, “Okay, let me know if I’m way off base here, because I’ll admit this sounds completely ridiculous. Just nod or shake your head. Is there-are you in some way bound to follow orders?”
Danny nodded vigorously.
“But…how is that even possible?” Danny shook his head and gave a shrug. It was a question he had been asking himself his whole life.
“Okay, okay, so…any order?” Rachel asked, and Danny gave another nod of affirmation. “And…I’m guessing you were ordered not to talk about it, which is why you…can’t.”
Danny nodded again, giving her a thumbs-up for good measure. She knew. It had taken them a while to reach that point. But she knew. And Danny wasn’t afraid.
“So,” Rachel said.
“So.”
“Where does that leave us?”
--
They found a way to work around it. Rachel never made him feel abnormal, and she always tried to be careful about the way she phrased things. Occasionally there was a slip-up, but she almost always caught it immediately and retracted her words.
When Rachel became pregnant, Danny worried endlessly. What if their son or daughter had the same thing he did? Would he want them to grow up facing the same challenges, in a society where everybody wanted something from you, and advertisers seemed hell-bent on selling you their product?
(Danny always muted the television during commercials now; he had three sets of Ginsu knives, four shake weights, and a video camera pen. It was a nightmare, and he had come to loathe every time he heard the words, “Call in the next 15 minutes and you’ll receive…” Now, if that happened, Rachel would simply turn to him and say, “Only if you want to.”)
Danny needn’t have worried, because when Grace was born everything was good. Better than good, it was perfect. And when Grace was old enough to understand, Rachel sat her down and explained everything to her about Danny’s curse. Well, she explained it in such a way as a little girl could understand, which meant that Danny’s curse became the result of a wayward fairy’s mistaken “gift.” At this point Danny had entertained so many theories in his mind, each more impossible than the next, it wouldn’t surprise him if that was the one which turned out to be true.
Grace was the only person who never once slipped up and gave him an order. Of course, Danny’s whole world revolved around her, and he couldn’t deny her anything, regardless.
--
Danny should have realized things were too good to be true. At least, he should have suspected when things began going downhill. He couldn’t trace when he had first felt a discernable shift in his and Rachel’s relationship. It was little things that turned into arguments, or arguments that turned into them tacitly agreeing to Not Mention It for the sake of Grace. Even still, the little things-the petty disagreements, the personality quirks that had them at odds-could be worked around. Other things weren’t so easy. Much of it revolved around Danny’s job, and the danger he was placed in. Rachel worried about him, in his line of work, but it mattered too much to him to quit. It went unsaid between them, but Danny knew her real concern was how his curse might be used against him.
“This matters to me, Rachel, I can’t just give it up!” Danny tried to keep his volume in check; Grace had already been put to bed.
“But you can’t know nothing bad will happen out there. What about me? What about Grace?”
Danny caught Rachel’s face in his hands, thumbs bracketing her cheekbones. He needed her to understand this. “It’s because of you and Grace that I do this. You think I don’t know it’s dangerous, huh? But I’ve lived with this-this thing-my whole life, and I’m still here.”
Rachel pulled back. “Just stop,” she said, “Stop putting yourself in danger. Stop doing this to us.”
It was like ice water had been poured down his back. Rachel’s mouth dropped open in horror as she realized what she’d just said.
“Oh god, Daniel, I didn’t mean it like that. Ignore what I just said. I take it back. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
It was too late, though. Danny may have been freed from carrying out the command, but the damage was done. Danny knew then, on a certain level, a line had been crossed. Rachel seemed to realize it too; there were tears in her eyes. The worst part was, it wasn’t just the breach of trust, it wasn’t just that she’d said that, knowing Danny would have to obey. It was her reasons behind the words, the reasons that made her fear for Danny in the first place. Those reasons were still there, and weren’t going to simply go away. And Danny couldn’t blame her, not really, for being afraid. He just also knew that this, this problem between them, couldn’t be fixed. And it left him feeling gutted.
Two days later, Danny moved into a nearby motel. Matty helped some, he was there every night to support Danny. And while Danny appreciated it more than words could say, it was a bit like trying to put a band aid on a gaping wound.
--
In spite of how devastated he felt, Danny was reluctant through the initial divorce process. For a little while, he tried convincing himself they could fix it, for Grace’s sake. Rachel was apologetic over what she had said, and he might even be able to forgive her that. But Danny’s job-not just the hours, but the danger it placed him in-was always going to be a divisive factor in their relationship. And under all that, implicit but never mentioned, was his curse.
Danny knew the break was just as much his fault, knew that because of his curse, he took a dogmatically stubborn approach to anyone trying to tell him how to live his life. His job didn’t only offer him the opportunity to help people, it gave him a purpose, one that he had chosen of his own volition. Danny couldn’t give that sense of freedom up in order to take a safer job, not even for the sake of his marriage.
He and Rachel went their strained but separate ways, and Danny was grateful for the time he had to see Grace. There was some lingering bitterness on his part over the custody battle, and Danny hated himself a little that he knew Grace would be safest overall with her mother. Danny knew, with his curse, that Rachel was the more stable option, that there was always the chance someone could manipulate him while he had Grace in his care. Rachel had never brought the curse up with Danny during the custody battle (that he never would have forgiven), but he offered to allow her the majority of time with Grace, and she tacitly agreed. Nothing more needed to be said.
That is, until Rachel remarried, and decided to move her entire life, and his (because what was his life without Grace in it?), to Hawaii. There had never been any orders involved-Rachel had never again given him an order since That Night, but Danny was still without a choice in the matter. And that rankled, that even in his supposed “freedom” his options were still so limited. Stay in Jersey, the place he had considered home his entire life, or follow Grace, his home in every way.
He transferred to HPD, which was an experience in and of itself. The police force there had an entirely different way of looking at things than he was used to in Hoboken, which was both a good and a bad thing. It gave him some new perspective, and it meant he had stuff he could bring to the table. He was fortunate to find a good partner in Meka, who laughed off his caustic attitude, and who appreciated his insights. As much as Danny appreciated having Meka as a partner, he wasn’t anywhere near the point where he could trust another person with his secret yet, and he kept himself guarded so Meka never discovered it.
Danny disliked Hawaii on principle for everything it wasn’t (Jersey), but he put on his best poker face whenever he got weekends with Grace. She could sense it, sometimes-he had taught her how to play poker, after all-but that made her more determined for them to have a good time. That made everything worth it, trapped in this pineapple-infested hellhole as he was.
--
Danny got better, not at disobeying orders-because the rules of the curse wouldn’t allow that-but at prolonging the time until he had to obey them. It felt like someone was hammering at the inside of his skull and made him cranky as hell, but it was worth it. Every moment of resistance felt like a triumph, some small degree of control he had over his life. Then, he met Steve McGarrett.
“Put your weapon down, right now!” Danny shouted, leveling his gun.
“No, you put your weapon down, and show me your ID!” the man, Steve McGarrett, yelled back, and Danny braced himself against the familiar compulsion to carry out the order.
“You show me your ID, right now!” Danny replied, but it was a delaying tactic and he knew it. His arms felt heavy with the desire to lower his gun.
“I’m not putting my gun down.”
“Neither am I.” It was an empty affirmation. Even now, Danny could feel the strain on his arms to keep the weapon up.
“Use your free hand, take out your ID,” McGarrett said.
Fuck, more orders? Danny only hoped he could bluff his way through this without McGarrett suspecting anything was amiss. “Please, after you,” he said.
“At the same time?”
“At the same time?”
“Yeah, at the same time.”
“What, like on the count of three?” Danny asked, sarcasm dripping from his words. He was pushing his luck in putting off not one, but two direct orders. His head was pounding, and he could feel sweat breaking out across his brow.
“Sure, okay, three’s good.”
Danny reached for his ID, no longer able to deny the pressure in his head. “One…two…three.” McGarrett flashed his ID, and Danny was finally able to lower his gun. The pain dissipated immediately. Danny managed to suppress his inward sigh of relief.
Things only continued to go downhill from there, when McGarrett tried taking the toolbox with him. Danny’s own orders, emphatically given-“Leave the box, or get arrested”-were unheeded. Times like this, he wished more than anything that other people could get a taste of what he went through. It wasn’t enough for McGarrett to just defy him, however, he had to take Danny’s case right out from under him. Danny was seething-stupid Army commanders and their stupid penchant for throwing orders about. He went home, determined to completely forget about Steve McGarrett.
McGarrett wasn’t deterred by Danny’s obvious dislike of him, or his resolution to ignore him. An hour later he was knocking at Danny’s apartment door. And the tossing about of orders didn’t stop: “Enlighten me,” in regard to the Doran investigation, “Let’s go talk to him”-was the guy allergic to questions or something? How difficult was it to use a little common courtesy?
“It’s guys like you, they think they know how to do everything better, and that only makes my job harder.” It’s guys like you who take away my ability to make choices.
“You’ve got no choice, detective. The governor gave me jurisdiction, I’m making you my partner. We’re going to get along great.”
Danny gritted his teeth in frustration. It wasn’t an order, being this guy’s partner, but it may as well have been, considering McGarrett had the governor’s backing. At least he had some say in whether he liked this guy or not. McGarrett hadn’t taken that from him, yet.
Two hours later, however, McGarrett had gotten him shot at, and didn’t even have the decency to apologize. Instead, he was caught up in the case, single-minded in his determination to find Hesse.
“You just took a stupid risk, okay, understand that! I am not getting myself killed for your vendetta, I have a daughter, okay?”
“Yeah, that girl there is someone’s daughter too,” McGarrett said.
“You don’t get it, you don’t get it. I mean, for somebody who’s just lost his father, you’re pretty dense.” Danny knew he was hitting a nerve, but he hoped that maybe it would open McGarrett’s eyes a little.
Instead, it only made him angry. “What’d you say…what’d you just say to me? What if she was yours, huh? Is there anything that you would not do to hunt down the son of a bitch who did that to her and kill him?”
Danny was incensed; he stepped right into McGarrett’s personal space, pointing a finger at him. “Do not question my resolve, you understa-”
“I’m warning you, take your finger out of my face.”
Right. Danny felt the curse surge up, the pain with it. Two could play that game. He jabbed McGarrett in the chest instead. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch-”
A second later he was facing the ground, his arm twisted up behind his back in some kind of crazy jujitsu move. The flare of pain he felt this time was very real.
“What did I tell you? I warned you,” McGarrett said reproachfully.
“What are you, a ninja? Let go!”
“-in front of all these nice people. It’s fine, go back to work, it’s fine!”
Danny ground his teeth, wondering at his chances of pulling free as he gave a grunt of pain.
“Now, you don’t have to like me, but right now there’s no one else to do this job,” McGarrett said, sounding more calm.
“Okay, let me go.”
He did, and the moment Danny was upright again he hauled back and punched McGarrett as hard as he could in the jaw. It hurt like fuck, but it was worth it.
“You’re right, I don’t like you.” And as long as Danny continued to have a choice in the matter, he wouldn’t.
On a certain level, Danny couldn’t say he found McGarrett’s inability to observe social niceties surprising, frustrating as it was. Still, for all that Danny couldn’t recall ever having received this many orders in so short a time, the situation was good practice. Danny had forgotten what it was like to spend prolonged periods of time with someone who threw so many orders about. It honed his resistance, and he was quick to come up with a witty rejoinder, which served to distract from the fact that he was always carrying out the things he was told to do. McGarrett probably just chalked it up to good rule-following, was used to being obeyed in the military.
Still, Danny didn’t have to like it when the man grinned and said, “Book ‘em, Danno.”
“What’d I tell you about that?” he responded, but there was no real argument or resistance in his tone. He was already moving to cuff the guy. He’d had enough of the headache throbbing constantly at his temples for one day. So when McGarrett-Steve, his brain supplied-offered Danny the hotel tickets later with a, “You can swim with the dolphins, just take it,” Danny accepted the gift without complaint.
--
Danny should have realized Steve’s behavior wouldn’t be a one-time deal. Being a part of Five-0 had its good points and bad. The good, he had more opportunities than he would ever have had in HPD to keep the island, and by extension his daughter, safe. The bad, he had a boss who seemed to be doing everything in his power to shorten Danny’s lifespan.
The man also liked to throw commands around like they were going out of style.
“Danno, I’m hungry,” Grace said. They were at the football game with Kono, Chin, and Steve.
“How can you be hungry? We ate an hour ago.”
“We didn’t eat nachos an hour ago,” Grace pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“What was I thinking about? Of course we didn’t. Come on, let’s go.”
“Hey, get me some,” Steve threw out as Danny started walking down the bleachers.
Danny gritted his teeth. How difficult, honestly, would it be for Steve to turn that into a request?
Grace was quiet as they walked towards the concessions area, had been since Steve’s casual order and Danny’s reaction to it-she was too perceptive.
“Okay, out with it. What’s eating you?”
“No one told him the rules,” Grace said, voice somber.
Danny ushered Grace to the side, out of the way of people walking. He crouched until he was at eye level with her. “No, you’re right. No one told him. But that’s because he doesn’t know, none of them do. But Grace, this is important-no telling them. This job is important. It means I get to keep the island safe for you, and when the island is safe that means I get to see you more. So I gotta keep this a secret.”
Grace pouted, her face furrowed in a frown. “Still,” she said, “It isn’t good manners.”
“Tell you what, then. When we get back with nachos, you can tell Steve that his manners stink, and that he should say ‘please’ more often.”
Grace nodded, letting the matter drop. That was when Danny saw the guys with guns. He quickly found someone to keep an eye on Grace, a woman there with a daughter of her own, before going after the men he had seen.
There was a dull pain in his head, the curse responding to the fact that Danny was no longer on his way to get nachos. Of all the times for it to bother him. Danny pushed forward through the pain, sternly telling himself and his curse that he would buy nachos for Steve later today, if necessary. He just needed to sort this out first. He called Steve.
“Where are my nachos?”
Forget the fucking nachos. “Hey, I’m right in front of you. I’ve got two guys headed to the field, strapped. I think something’s about to go down.”
The guys opened fire a minute later, and then there was chaos in the stadium. Chin took off running after someone, and Danny saw at least two go down. In the pandemonium, Steve subdued one of their suspects, and then turned to Danny.
“Go! Go! Go get Grace!”
Danny bolted for the bathrooms. It wasn’t until he was hugging Grace again that it struck him. He hadn’t even realized, but he’d obeyed an order without thinking. True, he’d wanted to, wanted to ensure Grace’s immediate safety, but there hadn’t even been the passing annoyance he usually felt when someone gave him an order he was in the process of carrying out anyway.
Danny had always resented the orders given to him. People took free will for granted, didn’t even consider the fact that for someone like Danny, it wasn’t an option. And as much as Danny hated Steve’s orders in particular, mostly because of the sheer amount of them, he had to admit that nothing he’d been told so far had been impossible.
That was, until Steve suggested he try ham and pineapple pizza.
--
The most frustrating thing about working with Steve was not only his tendency to give orders all the time, but also his unwillingness to change his ways. Danny was exasperated that that Steve made guidelines out of what could be simple requests, and he took to dropping casual hints as part of his delaying tactics; “Would it kill you to say please?” “Ask nicely and maybe I will.”
He only ever did that when nothing important was at stake, when no time would be lost by trying to resist an order.
They were working on the Amanda Reeves case at the Governor’s request. They were at the club where she had last been sighted with her sister, Robyn, who was possibly still alive. Steve ordered a pair of longboards, saying that it was a good idea to try to blend in and get eyes on the place until they spotted their guy.
“Looks like this place has got eyes on you,” Danny said.
“Could you focus, please? Just-just once, just focus.”
“Okay, wait a minute, let me ask you a question,” Danny interjected. He was focused, Steve’s remarks to the contrary. And Steve hadn’t specified what he had to be focused on, so Danny chose, at this moment, to focus on Steve. “Two very attractive ladies are eye-humping you, respectfully, and what, nothing? Nothing, I mean, should I check for a pulse? You alive? Hello.”
If he hadn’t been focused on Steve, he might have missed it, the little smile that gave Steve away. And it filled Danny with an unreasonable amount of glee to see Steve acting almost embarrassed, the reason he’d been so cheerful all day that he’d gotten laid.
Even better was Steve telling Danny, “You’re very perceptive,” right before he distracted him again with another order, “Take a look at Casanova over there.”
Later, when they found out a Filipino terrorist organization was behind the kidnapping, Danny and Steve headed to where the money drop was supposed to take place. They located the shipping container being used for surveillance, and ousted Russell Ellison and his security agents.
Once they’d established Robyn was indeed still alive, Steve turned to Danny, gesturing at the chair in front of the computers. “All right, they’re bringing Robyn in, we need to get a visual.”
Danny arched an eyebrow. “You’re kidding me.”
Danny knew he was being unreasonable, that until his knee finished healing it would be safer for him to take things easy, but it didn’t help his sense of self-worth. Though, Danny had to admit-as he watched Steve, Chin, and Kono from the multi-paneled screens-there was something refreshingly different about giving instructions and having Steve be the one to follow them.
“Okay, hold up, hold up. I’ve got two at the south entrance. One of them is making the rounds, coming your way right now…He’s coming up right behind you. Be on you in about ten seconds. Wait…wait for it,” Danny said, the seriousness of the situation overriding the novelty of his own orders being followed. “Now!”
After it was all over, Russell Ellison approached them about the possibility of one day working in the private sector. Steve, in typical Steve fashion, handcuffed him for obstructing their investigation.
“Book him, Danno.”
“You know, I gotta be honest, I actually didn’t mind that one.”
Danny tried not to think about what it meant, that he found himself less annoyed by Steve’s orders. That he was maybe becoming accustomed to them.
--
Danny took the news hard when Meka turned up dead. Even worse was when no one seemed to believe him that Meka was a clean cop.
“You know what? I’m done, how about that, all right? If my word is not good enough for you, then I do not know what I’m doing here,” Danny said, turning to leave.
He expected Steve to call him back. Was waiting to hear the “Don’t leave, Danny” that would have kept him there. He didn’t want to stay, not when his own integrity and character judgment were being called into question, but it’s not like he would have any other choice.
Steve didn’t call him back, however, and Danny was able to walk out of Five-0 headquarters unhindered.
Later, when Chin walked up to him at the bar, Danny tensed. He wasn’t ready for it, the demands to spill his feelings that came whenever he attempted to drink some of his troubles away. Chin didn’t seem to want an explanation for Danny’s earlier behavior, however, just ordered drinks for the both of them.
“Hey, JJ, set me up. And one more for my buddy, here.”
“Good timing,” Danny said, as he finished off the last of his bottle.
“His old man was the same way, you know,” Chin said, “McGarretts, they’ve got this laser focus embedded in their DNA. That’s why it’s good sometimes to remind them that their way isn’t the only one that works.”
Danny smiled. “Yeah, right now, somewhere, Steve just twitched.” He took a sip from his new bottle.
Chin laughed. “Sometimes, though, he misses things, things that should be really obvious.”
His tone was loaded, and Danny felt something in his chest seize up. He cast a sidelong glance at Chin across the bar, fighting to keep his face nonchalant. Chin gave Danny a searching look, and whatever he saw in Danny’s face confirmed his unspoken question.
Danny gave a defeated sigh. “How long have you known?” he asked.
“Couple of weeks, now,” Chin said, “I’m guessing here, are you allowed to-”
“I can’t talk about it,” Danny said, putting as much inflection as he could into the words.
“Figured. I’ll admit, I don’t fully understand it.”
“You and me both,” Danny said. He was going to need another beer, at this rate. “Does Kono know?”
Chin nodded. “She’s the one that figured it out, and came to me.”
“But you haven’t said anything to Steve?”
Chin shook his head. “I figured you wouldn’t want that. I’m sure Steve suspects something, because he’s observant, and he’s your partner. It’s his job to know when stuff is up with you.”
“He can’t know, Chin.”
“Why not? Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense, but Steve will understand. He would never-never make you do something you didn’t want.”
Danny pinched the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. On the one hand, it would be so much easier, not having to pretend he was like everybody else in the presence of his team members. But on the other, being just like everyone else, or treated as such, was all he’d ever wanted.
“I know he wouldn’t. But Five-0…you guys are like a family to me. This, all of this, this job, this team, it means a lot. And I can’t…I don’t want to be considered a liability. I don’t want this taken from me.”
Chin reached out to place a comforting hand on Danny’s shoulder. “I understand your reasons, brah, but I still think you don’t give us-or Steve-enough credit. We’ve got your back, and I’m in your corner a thousand percent. You can tell me what you need.”
Danny sighed. “I need to clear Meka’s name, so I think I gotta listen to McGarrett, go see somebody.”
Danny went back to his apartment later that night. He was still focused on the case, but Chin’s visit at the bar had given him a lot to think about.
Chin and Kono knew. They knew, and they hadn’t treated Danny any differently in the time since finding out. Perhaps it was true, what Chin had said about Steve. Maybe it would be worth the risk of Steve finding out, having people Danny trusted know about it, and knowing they would watch his back.
But then, the more people that knew his secret, the greater likelihood there was that someone unwanted might discover it and take advantage. He could be forced against his will to compromise his team’s safety. To compromise Grace’s safety. To turn against Steve.
And then, underneath all his misgivings about whether or not to tell Steve, there was also the issue Danny had with this thing, whatever it was. Somewhere along the line, somewhere between the “Book em, Danno’s” and the demands for the Camaro keys, Danny was finding himself drawn to Steve, in spite of how infuriating the man could be.
Danny shifted uncomfortably on his pull-out bed. Whatever this thing with Steve was, it didn’t change the fact that he was still annoyed with Steve’s behavior over the Meka case. Danny would worry about it later; first, he had to clear a man’s name.
Danny knew it was a risk going to see Sang Min alone, but he had known this job would be risky when he had signed up, had known he might sometimes be in less-than-ideal situations on his own. Besides, he was still pissed at Steve, and didn’t want to admit the possibility that Steve might be right.
He idly considered calling Chin, just to have someone along in case an…unforeseen situation arose (Danny was reminded of the incident years ago when Mick had been his partner), but he abandoned that idea. Danny couldn’t bear the thought of anyone holding his hand through his curse. He had dealt with it his entire life, and he would get through this alone.
Sang Min, when he was escorted from his cell to the visiting area, seemed more interested in trying to get a rise out of Danny, making comments about Danny’s looks, his family, Kono. Danny brushed it off, kept his frustration in check while he tried to keep Sang Min on task.
When Danny put the picture against the glass, hoping to prompt any sort of answer, Sang Min turned unresponsive, hanging up the phone and saying, “I’m done here.”
That wouldn’t do. Danny lost his temper, banging his hand against the glass to get Sang Min’s attention. “Hold on. Hold on, listen to me. Pick up the phone, pick up the phone. Pick up the phone!” Not for the last time in his life, he wished the curse worked both ways, that other people could feel a similar compulsion when given an order.
Sang Min’s eyes were wide and intense as he watched Danny through the glass, probably considering the risk to himself in revealing his information. Danny tried a new tactic, appealing to Sang Min’s emotions, talking about Meka’s family. He knew that Sang Min would be able to relate.
Finally, it seemed his plea had paid off, as Sang Min said, “If you want me to risk my safety, detective, then I set the terms of our deal, before I tell you anything.”
Danny knew it was a risk. Knew that Sang Min could demand anything, with the proper phrasing, and Danny would be powerless to resist. Still, clearing Meka’s name, doing this thing for his family, was most important right now. “What do you want?” Danny asked, resigned.
--
Everything worked out in the end, Detective Kaleo was exposed as the mole in HPD, and Meka’s name was cleared. The ceremony was everything Danny could have hoped for, under the circumstances. And then, when his team showed up, Danny couldn’t hide how grateful he was. Chin and Kono gave him supportive smiles, and he wondered how he hadn’t suspected sooner that they knew his secret. Danny traded handshakes, a pat on the shoulder, with each of them.
Steve’s face was indiscernible. Danny considered himself a good judge of Steve faces, being that he categorized them. But this, he had no frame of reference for this.
“I appreciate you being here,” Danny said, “I know you didn’t know him.”
“I know you,” Steve said, like it was the most simple-and obvious-thing in the world.
Danny felt something inside him shift, and for once it had nothing to do with an order or directive given him.
Oh.
This could be a problem.
--
He was attracted to Steve. He was attracted to Steve. Never mind that the man was crazy-with his penchant for running headfirst into dangerous situations and a tendency to forget Miranda rights-Steve also issued more orders than anyone Danny had ever met. He did it without thinking, and how fucked up was it that not only did Danny find himself no longer minding Steve’s commands, he actually sometimes enjoyed carrying them out?
Under normal circumstances, when someone made an offhand order, Danny would do the bare minimum necessary to fulfill it, usually bitching the whole time. Or he would resist as long as he was able, his own private rebellion. But nowadays, when Steve issued commands, especially in the middle of a case, Danny followed through without thinking. He’d come to trust Steve’s judgment. Off the case, Danny found himself wanting to take that even further.
They were in the middle of one of their ‘discussions’. They were at Steve’s watching a football game, a couple of beers in, while Danny extolled the benefits of other sports, like basketball and hockey. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoyed football as much as the next guy, but he felt that Steve was woefully under-informed about other worthy sports.
“I’m just saying, it’s your kinda game. Lots of bodychecking, you like that.”
“Relax, Danny,” Steve said, laughing before taking a drink from his beer.
Danny felt himself instantly calming at Steve’s words. Why was he arguing? Sports were sports, and provided there was good food and company, they were all pretty similar. The order hadn’t told him to stop arguing, only to relax, which could mean anything, really. Danny had been given more specific commands on numerous occasions, and had easily found loopholes or ways of working around them. He wanted to listen to Steve, though. Wanted to relax, to take the order further and go boneless and languid into the couch, to stretch his body out like an invitation.
There was a humming in Danny’s veins as he shifted more comfortably on the couch, and he couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or curse talking. Scratch that, definitely the curse. Though, at this exact moment, he wasn’t sure he would call it that. It filled him with a sense of euphoria, that he was taking enjoyment out of fulfilling an instruction, for once, that he wasn’t fighting it. Is this what it felt like, to truly embrace his curse? Danny could only imagine if Steve gave him other orders…
No. Danny gave an involuntary jerk upright, startling Steve next to him.
“I’ve…uh, just remembered something. Something I have to get done,” Danny said, too quickly, “Is it all right if I cut out early?” He could feel the edge of a headache returning; he was no longer relaxed.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Steve asked. Was that disappointment in his tone?
“Yeah, I’m fine, I only had a couple beers,” Danny said.
Steve frowned, and Danny braced himself for a command to stay. He wasn’t strong enough, didn’t trust himself not to follow that order completely. He was thankful, then, when Steve only said, “If you’re sure. Get some rest tonight, Danny, you look pretty spent.”
“Will do,” Danny croaked, his body thrumming to obey. He fled Steve’s house shortly after, before his mind could dwell on rest and Steve and all the things he’d rather be doing involving some combination of those.
When he got back to his apartment, he paused long enough to strip down to his boxers before collapsing on his bed. His body relaxed instantly, finally able to do what he wanted since Steve’s house. He was half-hard in his shorts, but that could wait in lieu of rest. He wanted rest, Steve had told him to rest. He wanted…
next
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Pairing: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 30,000
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hawaii Five-0/Ella Enchanted fusion. Danny is cursed with obedience. He must obey any order given to him.
Warnings: Due to the particulars of Danny's curse, certain situations he is placed in are dub-con or non-con in nature. This does not pertain to any experiences/situations/scenes of a sexual nature - any sex in the story is consensual.
Spoilers: Story goes AU after episode 1x22. Episode-specific spoilers throughout season 1, episode-heavy spoilers for 1x08, 1x16, and 1x18
Notes: This story ATE MY LIFE. Huge thanks to my beta, sirona_gs, for being brutally honest and telling me what needed work. This story wouldn’t be what it is without her help. Also, thank you to annundriel and popkin16 for being hugely supportive during the entire writing process, and being willing to bounce ideas with me at odd times of the day. And to everyone else on my twitter who contributed something at any point, thank you! *smishes*
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 at my journal | AO3 | Soundtrack
Kauoha (“to order or command”)
“Freedom is independence of the compulsory will of another, and in so far as it tends to exist with the freedom of all according to a universal law, it is the one sole original inborn right belonging to every man in virtue of his humanity.” -Immanuel Kant
-----
Danny’s parents never talked about the curse.
He’d had it for as long as he could remember, but whenever he asked his mom and dad, they always sidestepped it. They called it his “condition”, and cast sidelong glances until Danny wanted to yell and shake his fists with rage. Finally, to curb his questions, they simply ordered him to stop asking about it.
Danny’s mouth snapped shut, compelled by the power in his parents’ words. An order. A direct order. Something he could not disobey, even though he longed to.
Danny found ways of working around it, insomuch as he was able. He tried to keep people at a distance, lest they suspect something was different about him. He never had any desire to tell someone, not that it would have mattered, as his father had expressly forbidden him from it. Danny became good at paying close attention to the inflection in people’s voices. Sometimes there was an implied question mark hanging off the end of a poorly-worded phrase, and at such times it was easier to hold off the pounding headache that resulted from disobeying an order.
Growing up, Danny didn’t know if his headstrong attitude was because of his curse, or in spite of it. When Matty began asking questions, Danny tried not to feel bitter about the fact that his little brother didn’t have the same…impediment. It was only him. Danny’s parents made it very clear to Matty that he was never to take advantage of his brother’s “condition”, or tell anyone else about it. It helped some that Danny’s sister, Jo, was fiercely protective of him.
“Danny, can I have some of your ice cream?” Matty asked. They were at the zoo. It was the day after Danny’s birthday, and he was proudly sporting one of his birthday gifts, a plastic police badge and pair of handcuffs. Jo had walked on ahead with mom and dad, who carried their baby sister, Anna.
“No, you shouldn’t have eaten yours so quickly,” Danny said, sticking his tongue out.
Matty pouted. “I could make you share,” he said.
Danny glared at him. “You wouldn’t. Mom would ground you for a month.”
Matty opened his mouth to speak. Danny punched him in the arm before he could say anything. He handcuffed Matt to the bars by the monkey cage and ran off, covering his ears with his hands lest Matt demand to be set loose. The ice cream was abandoned on the ground.
Danny was grounded a week for his stunt, but it was worth it. And Matty never threatened to take advantage of the curse again.
--
To some, joining the police force might not seem like the wisest of career options for somebody in Danny’s…situation, but Danny had always known what he wanted to do. Being forced to obey commands had given him a certain respect for the rules society lived by, and he wanted to see those laws carried out. And he didn’t want to let anything, least of all a curse, stand in his way.
Danny’s training officer had been impressed with his ability to follow instructions and learn quickly from mistakes, and for the first time it seemed there was a way to use the curse to his benefit. Someone said, “do this,” and he did it. They said, “no, not like that,” and he corrected himself until it was right.
Danny never told anyone about the curse, but that didn’t stop the occasional person from finding out. Like Mick, Danny’s partner of over a year. The incidental commands were the worst, the things people said without thinking; “Chill out,” “hang in there,” and the like. Mick noticed, and brought it up with Danny. There was only so much Danny could say, bound by the command issued by his father years ago, but Mick got the gist. Miraculously, their working relationship was unaffected. If anything, Danny felt more at ease, knowing if someone issued him a direct order without thinking, Mick could negate it.
Of course, for all that Danny had found ways of working with his curse instead of against it, there were still awkward, unforeseen moments which could arise.
“Tell us who you’re working with,” Danny said to their suspect, one Jerry from East Orange.
“Go fuck yourself,” Jerry spat.
Danny gritted he teeth against the sudden wave of compulsion that hit him. Orders like this were the worst, when his mind didn’t know whether he had to take the words literally or not. His body certainly had an idea; he was hard and straining against the inseam of his trousers.
Sweat broke out on Danny’s brow as he fought against the flippantly thrown insult that the curse couldn’t distinguish from an actual command. And then came the headache, the migraine-level pain that had him seeing bright spots on his vision. Oh, fuck how was this his life, that he had a hard-on in an interrogation room?
Mick put a hand on Danny’s shoulder, flashing him a sympathetic look. “Danny, don’t,” he said, quietly, so only Danny could hear.
Danny relaxed, tension draining from his body as he was released from the command. He was shaken, though, and Mick could tell.
“I can finish here, if you like,” he said.
He was giving Danny an out, phrasing his words in such a way that there were choices, and Danny was grateful for it. He nodded, taking his leave of the room.
Six months later, Mick was killed in a crossfire, a stray bullet hitting his neck. Afterwards, the medics had to tell Danny to take the pressure off the wound; Mick was already long gone.
--
Danny hadn’t really given much thought to marrying. It was better for him to keep people at a distance; less risky that way.
Of course, then he met Rachel. And she was witty, intelligent, beautiful-and seemed to like him for all of his Jersey charm. It was no wonder he wanted to marry her. But then, there was the problem of his curse. He wanted to tell her, he truly did, but his father’s command prevented him from doing it in so many words.
Rachel was perceptive, though, she picked up that something was wrong.
“What’s troubling you, Daniel?”
“It’s…” Danny began, and the words were on the tip of his tongue, but they wouldn’t come out. His father’s words echoed in his mind. Never, under any circumstances, tell anyone about your condition. Don’t write about it, either…If people know, they’ll only use it to take advantage of you. “It’s nothing,” he finished.
“Tell me,” Rachel prompted.
And there it was, the impulse to do as Rachel had directed, but her words were in direct conflict with his father’s. Danny opened his mouth again to answer, but nothing issued forth. It seemed that Rachel’s order couldn’t override the ties which forced his silence on the matter. A dull pain began to build between his eyes as he found himself unable to fulfill his directive.
“I…can’t.”
Rachel arched an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I mean I’m…not able.” It was difficult to get the words out, but Danny threw as much weight as he could into them, hoping that at least some of his meaning might come across in what he couldn’t say. Or that Rachel might read into his stare and arm gesticulations.
“What, are you under orders, or something?”
Christ, it was like punching water, every word and movement felt like a struggle against a current. He gave a stiff nod. “I can’t. I want to, but I’m not…physically able. To tell you.”
Rachel had a look of befuddlement on her face. Danny didn’t blame her; what he was saying probably sounded impossible and bizarre. Still, something in Danny’s own expression must have conveyed his earnestness, because Rachel’s face softened after a moment.
“So,” she began, tentative, “You’re incapable of telling me…because you were ordered not to?”
Danny nodded. It was easier now. The order given to him by his father hadn’t prevented people guessing. And his headache was lessening now that he wasn’t working in direct conflict with the curse.
“And is…does what you want to tell me directly relate to the…circumstances preventing you?”
“Yes,” Danny said, relieved that he could feel his headache lifting, the words coming easier now that Rachel was catching on.
Rachel stared at him for a while, brows furrowed. It was clear she was close to the truth, was perhaps even entertaining thoughts of what the truth was, but the impossibility of it was drawing her up short.
“You can’t talk about it…” Rachel began slowly. Danny shook his head. “What about writing, can you write it down for me?”
Danny shook his head again. C’mon Rach, you’re so close to figuring it out.
“But…you can tell me if I’m right?” At Danny’s nod, Rachel continued, emboldened, “Okay, let me know if I’m way off base here, because I’ll admit this sounds completely ridiculous. Just nod or shake your head. Is there-are you in some way bound to follow orders?”
Danny nodded vigorously.
“But…how is that even possible?” Danny shook his head and gave a shrug. It was a question he had been asking himself his whole life.
“Okay, okay, so…any order?” Rachel asked, and Danny gave another nod of affirmation. “And…I’m guessing you were ordered not to talk about it, which is why you…can’t.”
Danny nodded again, giving her a thumbs-up for good measure. She knew. It had taken them a while to reach that point. But she knew. And Danny wasn’t afraid.
“So,” Rachel said.
“So.”
“Where does that leave us?”
--
They found a way to work around it. Rachel never made him feel abnormal, and she always tried to be careful about the way she phrased things. Occasionally there was a slip-up, but she almost always caught it immediately and retracted her words.
When Rachel became pregnant, Danny worried endlessly. What if their son or daughter had the same thing he did? Would he want them to grow up facing the same challenges, in a society where everybody wanted something from you, and advertisers seemed hell-bent on selling you their product?
(Danny always muted the television during commercials now; he had three sets of Ginsu knives, four shake weights, and a video camera pen. It was a nightmare, and he had come to loathe every time he heard the words, “Call in the next 15 minutes and you’ll receive…” Now, if that happened, Rachel would simply turn to him and say, “Only if you want to.”)
Danny needn’t have worried, because when Grace was born everything was good. Better than good, it was perfect. And when Grace was old enough to understand, Rachel sat her down and explained everything to her about Danny’s curse. Well, she explained it in such a way as a little girl could understand, which meant that Danny’s curse became the result of a wayward fairy’s mistaken “gift.” At this point Danny had entertained so many theories in his mind, each more impossible than the next, it wouldn’t surprise him if that was the one which turned out to be true.
Grace was the only person who never once slipped up and gave him an order. Of course, Danny’s whole world revolved around her, and he couldn’t deny her anything, regardless.
--
Danny should have realized things were too good to be true. At least, he should have suspected when things began going downhill. He couldn’t trace when he had first felt a discernable shift in his and Rachel’s relationship. It was little things that turned into arguments, or arguments that turned into them tacitly agreeing to Not Mention It for the sake of Grace. Even still, the little things-the petty disagreements, the personality quirks that had them at odds-could be worked around. Other things weren’t so easy. Much of it revolved around Danny’s job, and the danger he was placed in. Rachel worried about him, in his line of work, but it mattered too much to him to quit. It went unsaid between them, but Danny knew her real concern was how his curse might be used against him.
“This matters to me, Rachel, I can’t just give it up!” Danny tried to keep his volume in check; Grace had already been put to bed.
“But you can’t know nothing bad will happen out there. What about me? What about Grace?”
Danny caught Rachel’s face in his hands, thumbs bracketing her cheekbones. He needed her to understand this. “It’s because of you and Grace that I do this. You think I don’t know it’s dangerous, huh? But I’ve lived with this-this thing-my whole life, and I’m still here.”
Rachel pulled back. “Just stop,” she said, “Stop putting yourself in danger. Stop doing this to us.”
It was like ice water had been poured down his back. Rachel’s mouth dropped open in horror as she realized what she’d just said.
“Oh god, Daniel, I didn’t mean it like that. Ignore what I just said. I take it back. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
It was too late, though. Danny may have been freed from carrying out the command, but the damage was done. Danny knew then, on a certain level, a line had been crossed. Rachel seemed to realize it too; there were tears in her eyes. The worst part was, it wasn’t just the breach of trust, it wasn’t just that she’d said that, knowing Danny would have to obey. It was her reasons behind the words, the reasons that made her fear for Danny in the first place. Those reasons were still there, and weren’t going to simply go away. And Danny couldn’t blame her, not really, for being afraid. He just also knew that this, this problem between them, couldn’t be fixed. And it left him feeling gutted.
Two days later, Danny moved into a nearby motel. Matty helped some, he was there every night to support Danny. And while Danny appreciated it more than words could say, it was a bit like trying to put a band aid on a gaping wound.
--
In spite of how devastated he felt, Danny was reluctant through the initial divorce process. For a little while, he tried convincing himself they could fix it, for Grace’s sake. Rachel was apologetic over what she had said, and he might even be able to forgive her that. But Danny’s job-not just the hours, but the danger it placed him in-was always going to be a divisive factor in their relationship. And under all that, implicit but never mentioned, was his curse.
Danny knew the break was just as much his fault, knew that because of his curse, he took a dogmatically stubborn approach to anyone trying to tell him how to live his life. His job didn’t only offer him the opportunity to help people, it gave him a purpose, one that he had chosen of his own volition. Danny couldn’t give that sense of freedom up in order to take a safer job, not even for the sake of his marriage.
He and Rachel went their strained but separate ways, and Danny was grateful for the time he had to see Grace. There was some lingering bitterness on his part over the custody battle, and Danny hated himself a little that he knew Grace would be safest overall with her mother. Danny knew, with his curse, that Rachel was the more stable option, that there was always the chance someone could manipulate him while he had Grace in his care. Rachel had never brought the curse up with Danny during the custody battle (that he never would have forgiven), but he offered to allow her the majority of time with Grace, and she tacitly agreed. Nothing more needed to be said.
That is, until Rachel remarried, and decided to move her entire life, and his (because what was his life without Grace in it?), to Hawaii. There had never been any orders involved-Rachel had never again given him an order since That Night, but Danny was still without a choice in the matter. And that rankled, that even in his supposed “freedom” his options were still so limited. Stay in Jersey, the place he had considered home his entire life, or follow Grace, his home in every way.
He transferred to HPD, which was an experience in and of itself. The police force there had an entirely different way of looking at things than he was used to in Hoboken, which was both a good and a bad thing. It gave him some new perspective, and it meant he had stuff he could bring to the table. He was fortunate to find a good partner in Meka, who laughed off his caustic attitude, and who appreciated his insights. As much as Danny appreciated having Meka as a partner, he wasn’t anywhere near the point where he could trust another person with his secret yet, and he kept himself guarded so Meka never discovered it.
Danny disliked Hawaii on principle for everything it wasn’t (Jersey), but he put on his best poker face whenever he got weekends with Grace. She could sense it, sometimes-he had taught her how to play poker, after all-but that made her more determined for them to have a good time. That made everything worth it, trapped in this pineapple-infested hellhole as he was.
--
Danny got better, not at disobeying orders-because the rules of the curse wouldn’t allow that-but at prolonging the time until he had to obey them. It felt like someone was hammering at the inside of his skull and made him cranky as hell, but it was worth it. Every moment of resistance felt like a triumph, some small degree of control he had over his life. Then, he met Steve McGarrett.
“Put your weapon down, right now!” Danny shouted, leveling his gun.
“No, you put your weapon down, and show me your ID!” the man, Steve McGarrett, yelled back, and Danny braced himself against the familiar compulsion to carry out the order.
“You show me your ID, right now!” Danny replied, but it was a delaying tactic and he knew it. His arms felt heavy with the desire to lower his gun.
“I’m not putting my gun down.”
“Neither am I.” It was an empty affirmation. Even now, Danny could feel the strain on his arms to keep the weapon up.
“Use your free hand, take out your ID,” McGarrett said.
Fuck, more orders? Danny only hoped he could bluff his way through this without McGarrett suspecting anything was amiss. “Please, after you,” he said.
“At the same time?”
“At the same time?”
“Yeah, at the same time.”
“What, like on the count of three?” Danny asked, sarcasm dripping from his words. He was pushing his luck in putting off not one, but two direct orders. His head was pounding, and he could feel sweat breaking out across his brow.
“Sure, okay, three’s good.”
Danny reached for his ID, no longer able to deny the pressure in his head. “One…two…three.” McGarrett flashed his ID, and Danny was finally able to lower his gun. The pain dissipated immediately. Danny managed to suppress his inward sigh of relief.
Things only continued to go downhill from there, when McGarrett tried taking the toolbox with him. Danny’s own orders, emphatically given-“Leave the box, or get arrested”-were unheeded. Times like this, he wished more than anything that other people could get a taste of what he went through. It wasn’t enough for McGarrett to just defy him, however, he had to take Danny’s case right out from under him. Danny was seething-stupid Army commanders and their stupid penchant for throwing orders about. He went home, determined to completely forget about Steve McGarrett.
McGarrett wasn’t deterred by Danny’s obvious dislike of him, or his resolution to ignore him. An hour later he was knocking at Danny’s apartment door. And the tossing about of orders didn’t stop: “Enlighten me,” in regard to the Doran investigation, “Let’s go talk to him”-was the guy allergic to questions or something? How difficult was it to use a little common courtesy?
“It’s guys like you, they think they know how to do everything better, and that only makes my job harder.” It’s guys like you who take away my ability to make choices.
“You’ve got no choice, detective. The governor gave me jurisdiction, I’m making you my partner. We’re going to get along great.”
Danny gritted his teeth in frustration. It wasn’t an order, being this guy’s partner, but it may as well have been, considering McGarrett had the governor’s backing. At least he had some say in whether he liked this guy or not. McGarrett hadn’t taken that from him, yet.
Two hours later, however, McGarrett had gotten him shot at, and didn’t even have the decency to apologize. Instead, he was caught up in the case, single-minded in his determination to find Hesse.
“You just took a stupid risk, okay, understand that! I am not getting myself killed for your vendetta, I have a daughter, okay?”
“Yeah, that girl there is someone’s daughter too,” McGarrett said.
“You don’t get it, you don’t get it. I mean, for somebody who’s just lost his father, you’re pretty dense.” Danny knew he was hitting a nerve, but he hoped that maybe it would open McGarrett’s eyes a little.
Instead, it only made him angry. “What’d you say…what’d you just say to me? What if she was yours, huh? Is there anything that you would not do to hunt down the son of a bitch who did that to her and kill him?”
Danny was incensed; he stepped right into McGarrett’s personal space, pointing a finger at him. “Do not question my resolve, you understa-”
“I’m warning you, take your finger out of my face.”
Right. Danny felt the curse surge up, the pain with it. Two could play that game. He jabbed McGarrett in the chest instead. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch-”
A second later he was facing the ground, his arm twisted up behind his back in some kind of crazy jujitsu move. The flare of pain he felt this time was very real.
“What did I tell you? I warned you,” McGarrett said reproachfully.
“What are you, a ninja? Let go!”
“-in front of all these nice people. It’s fine, go back to work, it’s fine!”
Danny ground his teeth, wondering at his chances of pulling free as he gave a grunt of pain.
“Now, you don’t have to like me, but right now there’s no one else to do this job,” McGarrett said, sounding more calm.
“Okay, let me go.”
He did, and the moment Danny was upright again he hauled back and punched McGarrett as hard as he could in the jaw. It hurt like fuck, but it was worth it.
“You’re right, I don’t like you.” And as long as Danny continued to have a choice in the matter, he wouldn’t.
On a certain level, Danny couldn’t say he found McGarrett’s inability to observe social niceties surprising, frustrating as it was. Still, for all that Danny couldn’t recall ever having received this many orders in so short a time, the situation was good practice. Danny had forgotten what it was like to spend prolonged periods of time with someone who threw so many orders about. It honed his resistance, and he was quick to come up with a witty rejoinder, which served to distract from the fact that he was always carrying out the things he was told to do. McGarrett probably just chalked it up to good rule-following, was used to being obeyed in the military.
Still, Danny didn’t have to like it when the man grinned and said, “Book ‘em, Danno.”
“What’d I tell you about that?” he responded, but there was no real argument or resistance in his tone. He was already moving to cuff the guy. He’d had enough of the headache throbbing constantly at his temples for one day. So when McGarrett-Steve, his brain supplied-offered Danny the hotel tickets later with a, “You can swim with the dolphins, just take it,” Danny accepted the gift without complaint.
--
Danny should have realized Steve’s behavior wouldn’t be a one-time deal. Being a part of Five-0 had its good points and bad. The good, he had more opportunities than he would ever have had in HPD to keep the island, and by extension his daughter, safe. The bad, he had a boss who seemed to be doing everything in his power to shorten Danny’s lifespan.
The man also liked to throw commands around like they were going out of style.
“Danno, I’m hungry,” Grace said. They were at the football game with Kono, Chin, and Steve.
“How can you be hungry? We ate an hour ago.”
“We didn’t eat nachos an hour ago,” Grace pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“What was I thinking about? Of course we didn’t. Come on, let’s go.”
“Hey, get me some,” Steve threw out as Danny started walking down the bleachers.
Danny gritted his teeth. How difficult, honestly, would it be for Steve to turn that into a request?
Grace was quiet as they walked towards the concessions area, had been since Steve’s casual order and Danny’s reaction to it-she was too perceptive.
“Okay, out with it. What’s eating you?”
“No one told him the rules,” Grace said, voice somber.
Danny ushered Grace to the side, out of the way of people walking. He crouched until he was at eye level with her. “No, you’re right. No one told him. But that’s because he doesn’t know, none of them do. But Grace, this is important-no telling them. This job is important. It means I get to keep the island safe for you, and when the island is safe that means I get to see you more. So I gotta keep this a secret.”
Grace pouted, her face furrowed in a frown. “Still,” she said, “It isn’t good manners.”
“Tell you what, then. When we get back with nachos, you can tell Steve that his manners stink, and that he should say ‘please’ more often.”
Grace nodded, letting the matter drop. That was when Danny saw the guys with guns. He quickly found someone to keep an eye on Grace, a woman there with a daughter of her own, before going after the men he had seen.
There was a dull pain in his head, the curse responding to the fact that Danny was no longer on his way to get nachos. Of all the times for it to bother him. Danny pushed forward through the pain, sternly telling himself and his curse that he would buy nachos for Steve later today, if necessary. He just needed to sort this out first. He called Steve.
“Where are my nachos?”
Forget the fucking nachos. “Hey, I’m right in front of you. I’ve got two guys headed to the field, strapped. I think something’s about to go down.”
The guys opened fire a minute later, and then there was chaos in the stadium. Chin took off running after someone, and Danny saw at least two go down. In the pandemonium, Steve subdued one of their suspects, and then turned to Danny.
“Go! Go! Go get Grace!”
Danny bolted for the bathrooms. It wasn’t until he was hugging Grace again that it struck him. He hadn’t even realized, but he’d obeyed an order without thinking. True, he’d wanted to, wanted to ensure Grace’s immediate safety, but there hadn’t even been the passing annoyance he usually felt when someone gave him an order he was in the process of carrying out anyway.
Danny had always resented the orders given to him. People took free will for granted, didn’t even consider the fact that for someone like Danny, it wasn’t an option. And as much as Danny hated Steve’s orders in particular, mostly because of the sheer amount of them, he had to admit that nothing he’d been told so far had been impossible.
That was, until Steve suggested he try ham and pineapple pizza.
--
The most frustrating thing about working with Steve was not only his tendency to give orders all the time, but also his unwillingness to change his ways. Danny was exasperated that that Steve made guidelines out of what could be simple requests, and he took to dropping casual hints as part of his delaying tactics; “Would it kill you to say please?” “Ask nicely and maybe I will.”
He only ever did that when nothing important was at stake, when no time would be lost by trying to resist an order.
They were working on the Amanda Reeves case at the Governor’s request. They were at the club where she had last been sighted with her sister, Robyn, who was possibly still alive. Steve ordered a pair of longboards, saying that it was a good idea to try to blend in and get eyes on the place until they spotted their guy.
“Looks like this place has got eyes on you,” Danny said.
“Could you focus, please? Just-just once, just focus.”
“Okay, wait a minute, let me ask you a question,” Danny interjected. He was focused, Steve’s remarks to the contrary. And Steve hadn’t specified what he had to be focused on, so Danny chose, at this moment, to focus on Steve. “Two very attractive ladies are eye-humping you, respectfully, and what, nothing? Nothing, I mean, should I check for a pulse? You alive? Hello.”
If he hadn’t been focused on Steve, he might have missed it, the little smile that gave Steve away. And it filled Danny with an unreasonable amount of glee to see Steve acting almost embarrassed, the reason he’d been so cheerful all day that he’d gotten laid.
Even better was Steve telling Danny, “You’re very perceptive,” right before he distracted him again with another order, “Take a look at Casanova over there.”
Later, when they found out a Filipino terrorist organization was behind the kidnapping, Danny and Steve headed to where the money drop was supposed to take place. They located the shipping container being used for surveillance, and ousted Russell Ellison and his security agents.
Once they’d established Robyn was indeed still alive, Steve turned to Danny, gesturing at the chair in front of the computers. “All right, they’re bringing Robyn in, we need to get a visual.”
Danny arched an eyebrow. “You’re kidding me.”
Danny knew he was being unreasonable, that until his knee finished healing it would be safer for him to take things easy, but it didn’t help his sense of self-worth. Though, Danny had to admit-as he watched Steve, Chin, and Kono from the multi-paneled screens-there was something refreshingly different about giving instructions and having Steve be the one to follow them.
“Okay, hold up, hold up. I’ve got two at the south entrance. One of them is making the rounds, coming your way right now…He’s coming up right behind you. Be on you in about ten seconds. Wait…wait for it,” Danny said, the seriousness of the situation overriding the novelty of his own orders being followed. “Now!”
After it was all over, Russell Ellison approached them about the possibility of one day working in the private sector. Steve, in typical Steve fashion, handcuffed him for obstructing their investigation.
“Book him, Danno.”
“You know, I gotta be honest, I actually didn’t mind that one.”
Danny tried not to think about what it meant, that he found himself less annoyed by Steve’s orders. That he was maybe becoming accustomed to them.
--
Danny took the news hard when Meka turned up dead. Even worse was when no one seemed to believe him that Meka was a clean cop.
“You know what? I’m done, how about that, all right? If my word is not good enough for you, then I do not know what I’m doing here,” Danny said, turning to leave.
He expected Steve to call him back. Was waiting to hear the “Don’t leave, Danny” that would have kept him there. He didn’t want to stay, not when his own integrity and character judgment were being called into question, but it’s not like he would have any other choice.
Steve didn’t call him back, however, and Danny was able to walk out of Five-0 headquarters unhindered.
Later, when Chin walked up to him at the bar, Danny tensed. He wasn’t ready for it, the demands to spill his feelings that came whenever he attempted to drink some of his troubles away. Chin didn’t seem to want an explanation for Danny’s earlier behavior, however, just ordered drinks for the both of them.
“Hey, JJ, set me up. And one more for my buddy, here.”
“Good timing,” Danny said, as he finished off the last of his bottle.
“His old man was the same way, you know,” Chin said, “McGarretts, they’ve got this laser focus embedded in their DNA. That’s why it’s good sometimes to remind them that their way isn’t the only one that works.”
Danny smiled. “Yeah, right now, somewhere, Steve just twitched.” He took a sip from his new bottle.
Chin laughed. “Sometimes, though, he misses things, things that should be really obvious.”
His tone was loaded, and Danny felt something in his chest seize up. He cast a sidelong glance at Chin across the bar, fighting to keep his face nonchalant. Chin gave Danny a searching look, and whatever he saw in Danny’s face confirmed his unspoken question.
Danny gave a defeated sigh. “How long have you known?” he asked.
“Couple of weeks, now,” Chin said, “I’m guessing here, are you allowed to-”
“I can’t talk about it,” Danny said, putting as much inflection as he could into the words.
“Figured. I’ll admit, I don’t fully understand it.”
“You and me both,” Danny said. He was going to need another beer, at this rate. “Does Kono know?”
Chin nodded. “She’s the one that figured it out, and came to me.”
“But you haven’t said anything to Steve?”
Chin shook his head. “I figured you wouldn’t want that. I’m sure Steve suspects something, because he’s observant, and he’s your partner. It’s his job to know when stuff is up with you.”
“He can’t know, Chin.”
“Why not? Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense, but Steve will understand. He would never-never make you do something you didn’t want.”
Danny pinched the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. On the one hand, it would be so much easier, not having to pretend he was like everybody else in the presence of his team members. But on the other, being just like everyone else, or treated as such, was all he’d ever wanted.
“I know he wouldn’t. But Five-0…you guys are like a family to me. This, all of this, this job, this team, it means a lot. And I can’t…I don’t want to be considered a liability. I don’t want this taken from me.”
Chin reached out to place a comforting hand on Danny’s shoulder. “I understand your reasons, brah, but I still think you don’t give us-or Steve-enough credit. We’ve got your back, and I’m in your corner a thousand percent. You can tell me what you need.”
Danny sighed. “I need to clear Meka’s name, so I think I gotta listen to McGarrett, go see somebody.”
Danny went back to his apartment later that night. He was still focused on the case, but Chin’s visit at the bar had given him a lot to think about.
Chin and Kono knew. They knew, and they hadn’t treated Danny any differently in the time since finding out. Perhaps it was true, what Chin had said about Steve. Maybe it would be worth the risk of Steve finding out, having people Danny trusted know about it, and knowing they would watch his back.
But then, the more people that knew his secret, the greater likelihood there was that someone unwanted might discover it and take advantage. He could be forced against his will to compromise his team’s safety. To compromise Grace’s safety. To turn against Steve.
And then, underneath all his misgivings about whether or not to tell Steve, there was also the issue Danny had with this thing, whatever it was. Somewhere along the line, somewhere between the “Book em, Danno’s” and the demands for the Camaro keys, Danny was finding himself drawn to Steve, in spite of how infuriating the man could be.
Danny shifted uncomfortably on his pull-out bed. Whatever this thing with Steve was, it didn’t change the fact that he was still annoyed with Steve’s behavior over the Meka case. Danny would worry about it later; first, he had to clear a man’s name.
Danny knew it was a risk going to see Sang Min alone, but he had known this job would be risky when he had signed up, had known he might sometimes be in less-than-ideal situations on his own. Besides, he was still pissed at Steve, and didn’t want to admit the possibility that Steve might be right.
He idly considered calling Chin, just to have someone along in case an…unforeseen situation arose (Danny was reminded of the incident years ago when Mick had been his partner), but he abandoned that idea. Danny couldn’t bear the thought of anyone holding his hand through his curse. He had dealt with it his entire life, and he would get through this alone.
Sang Min, when he was escorted from his cell to the visiting area, seemed more interested in trying to get a rise out of Danny, making comments about Danny’s looks, his family, Kono. Danny brushed it off, kept his frustration in check while he tried to keep Sang Min on task.
When Danny put the picture against the glass, hoping to prompt any sort of answer, Sang Min turned unresponsive, hanging up the phone and saying, “I’m done here.”
That wouldn’t do. Danny lost his temper, banging his hand against the glass to get Sang Min’s attention. “Hold on. Hold on, listen to me. Pick up the phone, pick up the phone. Pick up the phone!” Not for the last time in his life, he wished the curse worked both ways, that other people could feel a similar compulsion when given an order.
Sang Min’s eyes were wide and intense as he watched Danny through the glass, probably considering the risk to himself in revealing his information. Danny tried a new tactic, appealing to Sang Min’s emotions, talking about Meka’s family. He knew that Sang Min would be able to relate.
Finally, it seemed his plea had paid off, as Sang Min said, “If you want me to risk my safety, detective, then I set the terms of our deal, before I tell you anything.”
Danny knew it was a risk. Knew that Sang Min could demand anything, with the proper phrasing, and Danny would be powerless to resist. Still, clearing Meka’s name, doing this thing for his family, was most important right now. “What do you want?” Danny asked, resigned.
--
Everything worked out in the end, Detective Kaleo was exposed as the mole in HPD, and Meka’s name was cleared. The ceremony was everything Danny could have hoped for, under the circumstances. And then, when his team showed up, Danny couldn’t hide how grateful he was. Chin and Kono gave him supportive smiles, and he wondered how he hadn’t suspected sooner that they knew his secret. Danny traded handshakes, a pat on the shoulder, with each of them.
Steve’s face was indiscernible. Danny considered himself a good judge of Steve faces, being that he categorized them. But this, he had no frame of reference for this.
“I appreciate you being here,” Danny said, “I know you didn’t know him.”
“I know you,” Steve said, like it was the most simple-and obvious-thing in the world.
Danny felt something inside him shift, and for once it had nothing to do with an order or directive given him.
Oh.
This could be a problem.
--
He was attracted to Steve. He was attracted to Steve. Never mind that the man was crazy-with his penchant for running headfirst into dangerous situations and a tendency to forget Miranda rights-Steve also issued more orders than anyone Danny had ever met. He did it without thinking, and how fucked up was it that not only did Danny find himself no longer minding Steve’s commands, he actually sometimes enjoyed carrying them out?
Under normal circumstances, when someone made an offhand order, Danny would do the bare minimum necessary to fulfill it, usually bitching the whole time. Or he would resist as long as he was able, his own private rebellion. But nowadays, when Steve issued commands, especially in the middle of a case, Danny followed through without thinking. He’d come to trust Steve’s judgment. Off the case, Danny found himself wanting to take that even further.
They were in the middle of one of their ‘discussions’. They were at Steve’s watching a football game, a couple of beers in, while Danny extolled the benefits of other sports, like basketball and hockey. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoyed football as much as the next guy, but he felt that Steve was woefully under-informed about other worthy sports.
“I’m just saying, it’s your kinda game. Lots of bodychecking, you like that.”
“Relax, Danny,” Steve said, laughing before taking a drink from his beer.
Danny felt himself instantly calming at Steve’s words. Why was he arguing? Sports were sports, and provided there was good food and company, they were all pretty similar. The order hadn’t told him to stop arguing, only to relax, which could mean anything, really. Danny had been given more specific commands on numerous occasions, and had easily found loopholes or ways of working around them. He wanted to listen to Steve, though. Wanted to relax, to take the order further and go boneless and languid into the couch, to stretch his body out like an invitation.
There was a humming in Danny’s veins as he shifted more comfortably on the couch, and he couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or curse talking. Scratch that, definitely the curse. Though, at this exact moment, he wasn’t sure he would call it that. It filled him with a sense of euphoria, that he was taking enjoyment out of fulfilling an instruction, for once, that he wasn’t fighting it. Is this what it felt like, to truly embrace his curse? Danny could only imagine if Steve gave him other orders…
No. Danny gave an involuntary jerk upright, startling Steve next to him.
“I’ve…uh, just remembered something. Something I have to get done,” Danny said, too quickly, “Is it all right if I cut out early?” He could feel the edge of a headache returning; he was no longer relaxed.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Steve asked. Was that disappointment in his tone?
“Yeah, I’m fine, I only had a couple beers,” Danny said.
Steve frowned, and Danny braced himself for a command to stay. He wasn’t strong enough, didn’t trust himself not to follow that order completely. He was thankful, then, when Steve only said, “If you’re sure. Get some rest tonight, Danny, you look pretty spent.”
“Will do,” Danny croaked, his body thrumming to obey. He fled Steve’s house shortly after, before his mind could dwell on rest and Steve and all the things he’d rather be doing involving some combination of those.
When he got back to his apartment, he paused long enough to strip down to his boxers before collapsing on his bed. His body relaxed instantly, finally able to do what he wanted since Steve’s house. He was half-hard in his shorts, but that could wait in lieu of rest. He wanted rest, Steve had told him to rest. He wanted…
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