Untitled - H50 post 7x04 - Challenge 34 Game of Cards
AN: for challenge 34 of gameofcards
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The blanket draped over his shoulders is thick; trapping the escaping heat from his body as it slowly regulates itself, turning him into shivering mess. Despite his moving around and steadiness on two feet, Steve goes to hospital in the back of the ambulance with Chin’s phone pressed to his ear. He’s been instructed to lie on his stomach. The reason for his acquiescence asks about him, Alicia, him again before letting out a sigh.
“Danny, I’m okay. I’m going to the hospital.”
“Babe, honestly tell me what happened?” Danny asks. His voice is pitched low in an effort to not draw attention to himself. Steve can imagine Danny standing most likely in a hospital corridor just outside his father’s room having decided to ignore Steve’s:
Danny, I’ll call you later; go be with your dad.
“Steve?”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
Steve’s trying to figure out the best answer, one that won’t result in Danny spontaneously booking a flight and coming home when the ambulance hits a bump in the road that has him gritting his teeth and letting out a hiss.
“Steve? I thought you said you were fine?”
“I am.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line and of course it’s too good to be true because Danny orders him to, “Give the phone to the medic.”
He glances at the medic who readjusts the blanket draped over his body. “What? No!”
“Steven, phone, medic, now.”
“Danny...”
Danny curses and Steve immediately feels guilty. He doesn’t want Danny to leave his dad. “I’m booking a flight.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being dramatic,” Danny responds flatly. “You think I’m being dramatic? Okay, how about you answer my question and then we’ll see if I’m being dramatic.”
“Don’t fly out early.”
“Steven.” The paramedic taps his hand and the ambulance pulls to a stop.
“I’m at the hospital now. Don’t come.” The doors of the ambulance open. “I’m hanging up.” He hears Danny splutter. “Love you.”
…
He puts a hand to his back as he gets up off the couch as a shadow passes by the window. He hears a key in the lock, a muttered curse and then watches the door ease open as Danny’s slinks in.
“I told you not to come.”
“Nice to see you too,” Danny says moving towards him. “Sit down or-why are you bandaged up?” There’s a frown on his face, his eyes roaming over Steve’s body assessing, cataloguing for abnormalities.
Steve sets himself back on the couch, trying to mask the wince as the wound hits the back of the couch. It hurts only a little less than it did yesterday. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s good, going home in a few days. Nice try with the distraction. Answer my question.”
“They tried to drown us. But…to capacitate us we were stabbed in the back…literally.”
Danny’s eyes grow wide, his mouth twisting in disbelief. “Sorry-can you-run that by me again, what happened?”
“I got stabbed in the back with a kitchen knife.”
“You got-you-“ Danny huffs, drawing a hand over his face, and sinking onto the coffee table like his legs can’t take his weight anymore. “Jesus Christ,” he finally settles on. “She stabbed you. She fucking…oh my god.”
The panic in his friend’s voice has him carefully sitting forward, ignoring the pull of the stiches in his back. “Danny?”
“When I called you - you were fucking stabbed…you had a hole in your back and you were telling me that you were okay and that I was being dramatic?!”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Steve says gently.
Danny snorts taking Steve’s hand in his own. “I live in a state of perpetual terror thanks to you. It’s been seven years, I think that boat already sailed.” He squeezes Steve’s hand. “I’m glad you’re…not dead.” Steve opens his mouth to correct Danny but at
Danny’s stare he stays quiet. “You got stabbed in the back - that is not fine or okay. Not dead is good enough for now.”
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The blanket draped over his shoulders is thick; trapping the escaping heat from his body as it slowly regulates itself, turning him into shivering mess. Despite his moving around and steadiness on two feet, Steve goes to hospital in the back of the ambulance with Chin’s phone pressed to his ear. He’s been instructed to lie on his stomach. The reason for his acquiescence asks about him, Alicia, him again before letting out a sigh.
“Danny, I’m okay. I’m going to the hospital.”
“Babe, honestly tell me what happened?” Danny asks. His voice is pitched low in an effort to not draw attention to himself. Steve can imagine Danny standing most likely in a hospital corridor just outside his father’s room having decided to ignore Steve’s:
Danny, I’ll call you later; go be with your dad.
“Steve?”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
Steve’s trying to figure out the best answer, one that won’t result in Danny spontaneously booking a flight and coming home when the ambulance hits a bump in the road that has him gritting his teeth and letting out a hiss.
“Steve? I thought you said you were fine?”
“I am.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line and of course it’s too good to be true because Danny orders him to, “Give the phone to the medic.”
He glances at the medic who readjusts the blanket draped over his body. “What? No!”
“Steven, phone, medic, now.”
“Danny...”
Danny curses and Steve immediately feels guilty. He doesn’t want Danny to leave his dad. “I’m booking a flight.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being dramatic,” Danny responds flatly. “You think I’m being dramatic? Okay, how about you answer my question and then we’ll see if I’m being dramatic.”
“Don’t fly out early.”
“Steven.” The paramedic taps his hand and the ambulance pulls to a stop.
“I’m at the hospital now. Don’t come.” The doors of the ambulance open. “I’m hanging up.” He hears Danny splutter. “Love you.”
…
He puts a hand to his back as he gets up off the couch as a shadow passes by the window. He hears a key in the lock, a muttered curse and then watches the door ease open as Danny’s slinks in.
“I told you not to come.”
“Nice to see you too,” Danny says moving towards him. “Sit down or-why are you bandaged up?” There’s a frown on his face, his eyes roaming over Steve’s body assessing, cataloguing for abnormalities.
Steve sets himself back on the couch, trying to mask the wince as the wound hits the back of the couch. It hurts only a little less than it did yesterday. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s good, going home in a few days. Nice try with the distraction. Answer my question.”
“They tried to drown us. But…to capacitate us we were stabbed in the back…literally.”
Danny’s eyes grow wide, his mouth twisting in disbelief. “Sorry-can you-run that by me again, what happened?”
“I got stabbed in the back with a kitchen knife.”
“You got-you-“ Danny huffs, drawing a hand over his face, and sinking onto the coffee table like his legs can’t take his weight anymore. “Jesus Christ,” he finally settles on. “She stabbed you. She fucking…oh my god.”
The panic in his friend’s voice has him carefully sitting forward, ignoring the pull of the stiches in his back. “Danny?”
“When I called you - you were fucking stabbed…you had a hole in your back and you were telling me that you were okay and that I was being dramatic?!”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Steve says gently.
Danny snorts taking Steve’s hand in his own. “I live in a state of perpetual terror thanks to you. It’s been seven years, I think that boat already sailed.” He squeezes Steve’s hand. “I’m glad you’re…not dead.” Steve opens his mouth to correct Danny but at
Danny’s stare he stays quiet. “You got stabbed in the back - that is not fine or okay. Not dead is good enough for now.”