Months and miles from dreams - 7/7 - PG-13 - AU
There is it, folks. Final chapter! I truly hope it lives up to everybody's expectations, I am absolutely terrified of posting it. Ah, well. Thanks to tailoredshirt for the beta and help, stjarna1984 and theellibu and sirona_gs for the constant support.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
March 2010
Steve is tired, absolutely fucking weary to his very bones, and worst of all, he can’t seem to shake this sadness, pulling his head down and making his shoulders heavy, grief wrapped all around his body. He cannot wait to see Danny, for something in his life to make sense again, to be stable, exactly where Steve left it at. With everything turned over upside down, with Steve overhauling his life completely, Danny is the only thing he can hold on to.
He starts the procedure on the evening of the funeral. Sitting in his father’s home with a drink of bourbon and his eyes on the ocean, the silence deafening in his ears, Steve makes a decision. He is done with this, with missing people’s lives and losing them with so many things unsaid that he wouldn’t even know where to start. He’s done wanting more and yet refusing himself. He’s done pretending he’s fulfilled in this life and he’s done pretending he doesn’t hurt, all the fucking time.
He wants a life, an actual life that isn’t made out of a duffel bag and a sniper rifle and boarding gates. He wants to see Mary-Ann grow old and he wants to see Grace grow up. He wants Danny, everywhere all the time.
He wants to say goodbye to his father.
In anger and frustration, Steve throws the glass he is holding against the outside wall of the house, the glass shattering and the amber liquid splashing all over the stark white paint, gleaming in the moonlight. A heart attack. Of all the things his father could have died of, being a cop, a heart attack feels so fucking ironic Steve wants to rip the world apart for doing this, for allowing this to happen.
He’s so tired, but he knows he won’t get to sleep. He can still see the people at the funeral, the glaring absence of his sister a punch in the gut. Can remember people shaking his hand and giving him their condolences and kind words, and how he’d kept his eyes staring ahead when facing the grave, his dress blues constricting and everything he was made of keeping him from falling to his knees and sobbing, hitting the stone, cursing his father for doing this to him.
His plane to New Jersey is in the morning, and Steve is so eager to tell Danny about his decision to transfer to the Reserves, his choice to settle down. Just see him, after more than a year, just a few short phone calls in between, broken words and secret confessions made under the cover of talks of sports and Grace. Steve misses him so much it’s a constant throbbing inside his chest, his heart bleeding out and making it hard to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function.
He’s not so eager to tell Danny about his father’s death, but he knows sharing the burden and the deep grief that he can’t shake, talk about these things he’s angry about, these things he’s sorry about, Steve knows it will help. He has no idea how he’ll start and how he’ll end, all his words and feelings about his dad a jumbled, tangled mess through the whole of him. He’s scared of pulling on that piece of string, knowing that it’ll unravel and leave him raw, sliced open for Danny to pick and prod and hurt if he wants to, but Steve knows, he just knows that he has to do it. He’ll carry the weight of these feelings for the rest of his life anyway, but maybe he can make sense of them, with Danny’s help.
There are so many things he regrets he doesn’t even know where to start, what he can change, make better. He’s lost his mother too early, and then he went on forgetting he even had a family until he met Danny and his life changed. Danny made himself a nest inside Steve’s head and heart and pushed the darkness away, with persistent hands and soft words, angry rants and passionate kisses. Tried to tell Steve he should make amends, go back to his family.
Steve should have listened to him. He should have gone to see Mary-Ann more often, he should have told his dad he was sorry for being angry, he should have, but he didn’t. And maybe it’s not too late with Mary, if she doesn’t hate him enough to forget he ever existed. But with his dad - he’s never even really known the man, but fuck if Steve didn’t love him anyway, through the anger and the desperation, and the need for answers he’ll never have, now.
“Goddamnit, Dad.”
Steve runs a hand through his hair, stares at the water for a while longer before walking to it, toeing off his shoes on the way to the ocean and diving in, in his dress blues and with his heart broken in a million pieces.
---
Danny’s not there.
It takes Steve about six hours to panic. He spends three of those waiting at Danny’s apartment door, one at Williams’, which is now called Sweet and seems to be a strip club. Steve attempts to walk in but the door is closed and his waiting around doesn’t bring him anything. The remaining two hours he spends driving around and stopping at places they’ve been, or that Danny talked about, or that look like a place Danny would enjoy, and calling every hospital in the area for any patient called Daniel Williams.
Then, Steve starts panicking. The drive back to his hotel, the walk up the stairs to his room, all of it happens in a blur as Steve tries to think, his mind foggy. What if something happened to him because of Vince or his Uncle Louie or some other member of his family? What if Danny’s dead?
Steve sinks to his knees next to his bed, missing it by an inch and leaning against it as he stares at his hands on his lap, his heart hammering in his chest, trying to break his ribs, to rip him open, his mouth dry and his eyes burning. He would have no idea, if Danny took a stray bullet or was found in a dark alley, beaten up to a bloody pulp.
Danny wouldn’t have let go of his boxing club without a good reason, the kind of reason that is freaking Steve out right now, possibilities too scary to really think about, all of them images flicking in and out of his head like a bad mute movie.
Fuck, Steve can’t deal with this, not now, not when he finally decided to give this - this thing between them a real go, not when he just buried his father. Just, no. Steve watches as his hands start to tremble, and he closes them into fists against his legs, clenching his teeth so hard together it hurts. He doesn’t cry, even though all he wants is to crumble and sob like a kid, like he didn’t do when his mother died.
Suddenly he snaps his head up, trying to focus his eyes through the blur of unshed tears and white-hot anger at the whole fucking world.
Rachel. Rachel and Grace, they have to be somewhere, around. Rachel has to know where Danny is.
Only when he calls the emergency number Danny gave him, an automated voice tells him that line has been disconnected. Steve stares at the wall as the voice drones on and on before ending the call, forcing himself not to throw his phone at the wall.
Instead of lashing out, as much as he wants to, Steve takes a deep, broken breath and dials another emergency number, hearing it ring once, two times before Catherine picks up.
”Steve? I thought you were on leave?”
“I am. Hey, Cath. I, huh. I need a favor.”
”That why you’re calling me on my cell?” She sighs, sounding way too used to Steve coaxing her into doing stuff for him. It used to be sex and beers and dinners half-eaten, but in the more recent years it’s only been dinner, long talks. ”Fine, what do you want? You’ll owe me.”
“I’ll buy you the fanciest dinner next time I’m around. I - I need the current address of one Rachel Sutton, last known location was New Jersey.”
Catherine makes a sound on the other end of the line, a little click with her tongue to tell Steve that she doesn’t really appreciate him using her to chase skirts. Steve’s stomach clenches tight. If only she knew the truth, if only he could tell her the truth. He’s pretty sure she wouldn’t be part of those that would tell, but Steve wouldn’t risk it, even if she was his best friend.
“She’s just a friend, Cath, I promise you.”
”Whatever, Steve - you were never mine, anyway. Do you spell it S-U-T-T-O-N?”
“Yes.”
Steve dry-swallows as Catherine runs the search for her address, knowing that it’s not something she’s authorized to do, but for him she’ll do it anyway. Steve bites his lower lip, his stomach cramping up. He’s probably going to be sick in a minute.
”Okay, Rachel Sutton currently lives in San Diego, California.”
Steve’s whole body goes frozen. Maybe -
”Do you want the address?”
Steve blinks, scrabbling for the notepad and pen on the nightstand, keeping his phone in place against his shoulder. His heart has started beating way too fast again, but this time it’s hopeful, relieved. If she’s gone to the other side of the US, if she’s taken Grace with her, maybe she’s taken Danny with her, too.
“Yeah, yes, please.”
Catherine rattles off the address and Steve jots it down, nodding to himself when he’s got it. Steve wishes fervently for a second he could dare ask Cath if she’s got an address for Danny, too, but the questions it’d raise scare him a little too much. Catherine is way too smart for her own good, and she can read Steve better than most people.
Letting out a breath of relief now that he knows at least Rachel is somewhere, not dead and buried next to Danny somewhere in Weehawken, Steve reminds himself he’s on the phone.
“Seriously, Cath, I owe you, so much. I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear I’ll explain.”
”Yeah, yeah.” This time he can hear a smile in her voice and he wants to hug her so badly it makes his hands tremble again. ”As I said, whatever. Let me know when you’re next on base, okay?”
“I will. Bye, Catherine.”
”Bye.”
Steve hangs up and stares at the address for a while longer, his handwriting messy, a spready scrawl that he can barely decipher. It reminds him of his dad’s - Steve could only barely decipher his rare letters.
Steve stands up on shaky legs, determined. He’s got things to do, now.
---
The house is big, much bigger than Steve expected it to be. It’s the kind of house with a gated driveway and all, and Steve decides to park down the road and walk up to the gate, not wanting to be turned away and have to drive away. At least if he’s here on foot he can wait Rachel out if needed. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it.
He leans against the gate near the intercom, looking down at it and remembering how she looks like, a little blurry around the edges, but Danny’s words still ringing in his ears..
Gathering up his strength and trying to forget as much as possible the different things she could be telling him about Danny, Steve presses the call button and waits, going over the words in his head. When a crackling Hello? comes through, Steve leans closer, hoping his voice won’t break.
“Rachel? Rachel Sutton?”
”Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Steve McGarrett. I am a friend of Danny’s?”
He expects her to ask him what he wants, why he’s here, but there’s no answer and a few seconds later, the door starts to open. Steve slides through, throwing a look over his shoulder as he walks to the door, feeling a little trapped and even more scared than before.
In a way, Rachel reminds Steve of his mother - there’s something about her, something so inherently motherly that Steve wants to step closer and let her hug him better, tell him that everything will be alright, that Danny is fine and that Steve will be, too. He swallows around the lump in his throat, shaking away the thoughts of his family, broken to pieces, only two remaining, so close yet so far.
“Hi, Steve. ”
She extends a hand, and Steve takes the last step, stands in front of her, shakes her hand. Her skin is silky smooth, paler than it ought to be when living in a place like San Diego. He wants to say all the niceties and stupid things people say when they don’t really care, but he cares, he really does.
“Hey, Rachel.”
She steps back, gives him a long look - judging him as if she knows much more than she should, and Steve shouldn’t be surprised by it. He doesn’t even feel angry at Danny.
“So, Steve. You have no idea how much Danny talks about you.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, looking down and scratching the back of his neck. He’s picked up on the present tense, which is all he cares about right now. He doesn’t plan on staying and having a long, deep conversation with Rachel - later, someday, maybe. Right now he wants Danny. Nothing else matters.
“I probably don’t. I’m looking for him. I’ve been traveling for a while and we haven’t really been able to be in contact.”
“Oh.” She looks surprised, which, somehow, reassures Steve. She doesn’t know everything, and she certainly doesn’t know what he does, what he used to do. “Oh, I thought you knew we’d moved.”
Her words make Steve’s stomach drop all over again, the hope turning to ice. Did they move in together here, in San Diego? Is that what is going on, they’re giving this another chance here, on the other side of the US? A clean slate?
“No, I didn’t. So um. Is he here?”
At least Steve wants to hear it from Danny’s mouth. If he’s being thrown to the curb, he wants Danny to do the dirty work.
But then, Rachel laughs.
“What, here? Oh, no, Stan would not be pleased if he had to share his space with Daniel, of all people. No, he’s not here. He should be in his own flat - or maybe at the park around the corner from it. He’s got Grace today. Do you want me to write down the address?”
“If you don’t mind.”
So many ups and downs are bound to make Steve throw up at some point. He feels weak, light-headed, possibly about to pass out. Danny’s alive - at least. Danny’s fine. Steve’s heart soars up to his throat, his whole body clenched with repressed emotions as Rachel steps inside the house and comes back out with a ripped off notepad page.
“Here.”
Her handwriting is clear, neat - very much like her appearance. Steve smiles his thanks, and Rachel takes a step closer, her face changing a little, worry and concern etching over her features.
“Look, I’m not one to meddle with Daniel’s life - he is a great father and that is all I ask of him. I just want to say that, well. He doesn’t deserve to get his heart broken.”
Yeah, Steve definitely feels sick. There’s something edgy and hard under Rachel’s soft words and Steve is not easily threatened, he’s not, but between the way she looks at him and the way she talks, Steve can’t help but feel his stomach knot tight, his lips twisting in a grimace that he tries to school into a blank expression.
He’s not mad at Danny for talking to Rachel about him - he trusts Danny, and Steve couldn’t have expected him not to tell anything to anyone. Danny’s a talker where Steve keeps things hidden . Steve is just not used to this, to caring for someone that much and for other people to care about what he does and the consequences of his actions. He’s used to being in charge, to making decisions and not being questioned for them. He’s not in a war zone anymore, though.
“That’s not what I’m here for, Rachel.”
She nods, looking very much the kind that will hold him to his words.
“Very well. You should go, then. He’ll be happy to see you.”
“Yeah, yes. Thanks, Rachel. Appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
---
Steve remembers feeling this nervous the third time he came to Williams’, the time he decided he’d tell Danny who he is and what he does, the time Danny had been so angry, for good reasons.
This time Danny doesn’t really have any reason to be angry, but there are so many other things he could be feeling - they haven’t talked in months.
It takes Steve a minute to ring the doorbell, and then he stays there, trying to look like anything but a soldier, forcing himself not to stay at parade rest, untucking his shirt from his jeans after a second of consideration. He smooths the front of his button-down with slightly sweaty palms, focusing on his breathing, slowing it down slightly.
The door flings open and there is Danny, with a good five days beard and his hair slicked back, his eyes a little sleepy at the corners, as if he just woke from a nap, wearing long baggy shorts and a distended tee. And yet he looks breathtaking and Steve feels himself lick his lips as their eyes lock, Danny’s mouth opening a fraction.
“Steve.”
It’s a whisper, Steve’s name on Danny’s exhale. It takes Danny two seconds to curl his fingers in Steve’s shirt and pull him forward, close the door behind him, the apartment fresh and dark compared to outside. Steve’s sweating, droplets rolling down his spine, pooling at the small of his back, and now his shirt is sticking to it. Danny’s breathing a little hard, looking at Steve all over, as if - as if wanting to make sure he’s alive.
Steve reaches out, grazing the tips of his fingers along Danny’s cheek, taking in the way Danny’s breath hitches. He leans into Steve and the hug feels so right Steve could cry as he holds Danny.
“I went to New Jersey but you were gone. I thought - for a while I thought you were dead.”
“I haven’t heard about you in 5 months and have not seen you in more than a year, Steve. I thought you were dead. I’m not the soldier, here.”
“Doesn’t make your life safer, though.”
“Now it is. I tried to call, but you were never there, they kept on telling me you had to be on radio silence. And I didn’t dare emailing you. I sent you the flyer for the closing of the gym, though.”
“I was off base for months. I never got it.”
“Rachel met this dude, Stan, and she fell in love with him - why, don’t ask me, the guy’s a goof, but anyway. He needed to move here for work, and she was following and so was Grace, so I - I had to go. And I guess some things you’ve been telling me about my family and how I was putting myself in danger when Grace needs me, well. I guess it stuck, because I cut all ties. They don’t even know where I live now. I work in a small gym not far away.”
Steve nods, letting the information Danny just spilled out sink in, not saying anything, the relief he’s feeling enough, helping him relax against Danny .
Danny exhales again, loud in the heavy silences between them. Steve has so many things he needs to tell Danny, so many things he wants to say, but when Danny slides his hands around Steve’s middle and reels him in, Steve can only willingly step closer. He holds Danny as tight as Danny holds him, feeling tension give way to relief and comfort in both their bodies.
“Oh, my God. Steve, I really thought -”
“I’m fine. I’m actually - really good.”
Danny looks up, his eyes glinting with questions he’s not asking. Steve just grins, shakes his head. It can wait.
Instead of saying anything, Steve leans down, fingers framing Danny’s chin as they kiss, and fuck if it doesn’t taste like home and love and cookie dough and morning afters where you don’t have to be anywhere else. An endless string of morning afters, and Steve realizes right there and then that he can’t wait for them.
When he pulls away, Danny grins, brushing a thumb along Steve’s lower lip. He opens his mouth, about to say something, when a shrill cry resonates through the house and Danny turns around immediately, Steve shaking his head, as if coming out of some kind of trance. He’s been here five minutes at the most, yet he feels like he’s back home already. It feels right.
“Daddyyyyyyyyy!”
Danny throws an apologetic look over his shoulder and disappears around the corner, and Steve follows a little hesitantly, stopping at the threshold of the living room. Danny’s sitting on the floor next to a very grown-up Grace - all brown locks and pigtails and pink dress and teary eyes. Danny kisses her elbow lightly, cooing at her and telling her that it’s nothing. She falls into his arms and folds herself against him, her breathing stuttering against his neck as she slowly calms down, her thumb stuck in her mouth. Danny turns to Steve again, and Steve can only wave at Grace with two fingers, feeling stupidly intimidated.
“She’s very tired. I’ll put her in bed and I’ll be right back, okay? We can do proper introductions later, when she’s up.”
Steve nods, a little dumbstruck - he’d forgotten that Grace would be here, even though Rachel told him. It’s just. She’s so big and so beautiful and Steve can see Danny when he looks at her sleepy, tear-streaked face and he’s overwhelmed. He is, because he signed himself away for a life of this and he’s not even scared - he’s a little excited about getting to know her, actually. The only really scary thought he lets himself think is what Danny will say to Steve transferring, to be with him. What if Danny doesn’t want it? Doesn’t want him?
Danny straightens up with Grace in his arms and she’s already half-asleep, snuggled close to him. He kisses her forehead and throws a look towards Steve before stepping through another door on the other side of the living room, leaving Steve here to force the thoughts away. Danny wants this - he’s asked Steve for this. In not so many words maybe, but he did. And fuck, fuck Steve has lost too many people without knowing them well enough and he’s done with this, he’s done with spending his time trying not to miss people.
When Danny reappears, Steve is curled up on the couch, staring at the black screen of the television, letting his thoughts run wild, trying to capture some of them and put them in order. He’s never let himself think so freely before, and it takes him a moment of Danny sitting next to him, running fingers along the outside of his leg, for Steve to snap out of it.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. You need a nap too?”
Steve smiles at Danny’s light mocking tone, shifting until he’s pressed against Danny, shoulder to knee.
“I’m good.”
“So, how did you find me?”
“Called in a few favors. Got Rachel’s current address, hopped on a plane.”
“You - you went to see Rachel?”
Steve nods, feeling sort of stupid. He looks away from Danny, but Danny doesn’t let him, moving just enough to throw a leg over Steve’s lap, straddling him and trapping him right here. Steve wouldn’t even think about moving.
“I thought she’d know where you’d be, and if she wasn’t in New Jersey then you might have been around, too. I was right.”
“Did she - say anything?”
“Well, she knows who I am. And she warned me that I wasn’t allowed to break your heart.”
Steve can’t help but smile when Danny groans, dropping his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve just holds him close, fingers carding through his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“S’ok. Told her I didn’t plan on breaking anything.”
“She doesn’t know - what you do. She just knows your name. And that I have feelings for you.”
“It’s fine, Danny. I get it.”
Danny raises a skeptical eyebrow when he straightens up, his hands curled around Steve’s biceps.
“Have you told anyone?”
“No. But you, you like to talk. You need to talk. I’ve spent a long time bottling things in.”
“Would rather you didn’t, especially considering - fuck. How long do we have? We lost days with you not even knowing where I was, didn’t we?”
Danny looks panicked by this, and Steve’s stomach drops when he realizes this is it, this is the moment where he changes everything, lays his cards on the table and gives himself up. The fact that it didn’t take him more than 10 minutes to make this life-changing decision after his father’s funeral comes back to him. This is the right thing to do.
When he doesn’t answer right away, Danny grows even more still.
“What? What is it?”
“I have transferred to the Reserves.”
Steve takes a moment to gather in Danny’s reaction, gauging the bad versus the good in the way he looks. Danny just stays right where he is, very still, his eyes looking into Steve’s. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t frown, and Steve feels his heart start to speed up.
“Danny?”
“Does that mean you’ve got nowhere else to be? I just want to make sure I get this right, okay, because I don’t want to get my hopes up but if I get this correctly, you’re not Active anymore so you don’t have to leave, right? Is that it? Are you - are you staying? For good?”
“I might get called in at some point, and I’ll have to go back to base to get some stuff - and I owe a friend a few explanations and dinner, but apart from that, yeah. It means I’m staying. For good.”
Danny doesn’t move for a few moments, breathing slowly, looking every inch like he’s processing the information, and he almost catches Steve off guard when he lunges in, kissing Steve with his whole body, his whole world. And Steve can just take it, wrapping his arms around Danny and grinning into the kiss, something close to delirious bubbling at the surface of his feelings.
Danny pulls away after a while, breathing hard as he pushes his hands in Steve’s hair.
“What made up your mind?”
“My dad died.”
Danny blinks, pulling back a fraction, sympathy bleeding into the blue of his eyes. Steve knows that his condolences will sound truer than most he’s heard in the past few weeks, these past fifteen years .
“Christ, I’m sorry, Steve. You could have -”
“No, I had to deal with it myself.”
“Are you okay?”
Steve nods.
“I’m okay. I - I mean, you know, it hurts, and I’m sad, but. I’m okay. And losing him, losing him while barely knowing him, and missing so much of his life, of not being there for him, it made me think. I don’t want this with you. I want to know you, and be with you, and not miss you. I’m so tired of missing you, Danny. I want to see Grace grow up, too, I already have missed so much, I mean, she’s turning into a proper little lady and she runs around and she talks, and I’m. I want to be there for you and for her when these things happen. Because I leave, I leave and it feels pointless, it really feels like I’m in the wrong place. So I transferred, and. I’m here to stay. If you’ll have me.”
Danny looks like he’s experiencing a million different emotions at once, about to start off on a tirade about everything and nothing and what it all means. But then he deflates, grins bright and large and happy, helping Steve feel so reassured he could sob with relief. Then he leans in, kisses Steve lightly, a dry press of lips, before curling into him.
“Welcome home, Steve.”
---
“So this isn’t bad.”
Danny gapes at Steve for a second, before throwing a look to the estate agent, closing his mouth with an audible sound that makes Steve smile. It’s been 5 months since Steve made San Diego his home - made Danny his home, permanently, and he’s yet to grow bored of Danny’s rants and quirks and all these things Steve learns about him every day. He’d had his doubts, not sure if they’d fit in this new mold, but it’d been surprisingly easy. They fight - god, they fight - and they tease and Danny rants about everything and anything Steve does and says, but Steve can hardly ever find it anything else than endearing, fun. Steve has made a sport of disagreeing with Danny as often as possible to get him riled up.
“This isn’t bad? Steve, compared to the apartment, this is a palace.”
Steve grins wider, looking down at Grace, her head resting on Steve’s chest as she snuggles close. After the few weeks it’d taken her to get used to having Steve around, she’d decided he made a great pillow, and today had been long, running from house to house, visiting way too many of them before this one, which seemed to have gotten Danny’s approval.
“What do you think, babygirl? Do you like it?”
Grace looks up at Steve, then at her father, her thumb stuck firmly in her mouth. She nods, pointing out towards the balcony and the stream running under it. The three of them step outside, and Steve lets go of her, keeping a watchful eye as she holds onto the wooden railing and looks down, trying to find fishes. Danny leans close to Steve, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.
“We can’t afford it, Steve.”
“I’ve got a lot of money saved. It’ll be enough, for a start.”
Danny sighs, sounding frustrated, and Steve swoops in to grab Gracie before she leans too far, holding her secure in his arms, without keeping her from looking.
“Yeah.”
Steve gives Danny a look, nodding when Danny stares ahead of him, into the distance and the houses around, not too close. He wants this for Grace, they both do - not to compete with Rachel and Stan and their mansion, but just to give her the best they can, but it’s not easy, it never is. But they make it work, and they’ll make this work, too. Since transferring to the Reserves, Steve has put most of his restless energy into making this work, in between long work-out sessions and classes at different gyms in the area.
“Fishies, ‘Teve!”
“Oh yeah, yeah I see them, Gracie!”
Steve smiles at her as she points at the fishes appearing in the clear stream, just glimpses of scales catching the sun before they’re gone. Danny leans over the railing next to them to catch whatever Grace is seeing as well, and then he grins, turning to Steve. Steve finds himself chuckling.
“We’ll manage, yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah, Danny, we will.”
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
March 2010
Steve is tired, absolutely fucking weary to his very bones, and worst of all, he can’t seem to shake this sadness, pulling his head down and making his shoulders heavy, grief wrapped all around his body. He cannot wait to see Danny, for something in his life to make sense again, to be stable, exactly where Steve left it at. With everything turned over upside down, with Steve overhauling his life completely, Danny is the only thing he can hold on to.
He starts the procedure on the evening of the funeral. Sitting in his father’s home with a drink of bourbon and his eyes on the ocean, the silence deafening in his ears, Steve makes a decision. He is done with this, with missing people’s lives and losing them with so many things unsaid that he wouldn’t even know where to start. He’s done wanting more and yet refusing himself. He’s done pretending he’s fulfilled in this life and he’s done pretending he doesn’t hurt, all the fucking time.
He wants a life, an actual life that isn’t made out of a duffel bag and a sniper rifle and boarding gates. He wants to see Mary-Ann grow old and he wants to see Grace grow up. He wants Danny, everywhere all the time.
He wants to say goodbye to his father.
In anger and frustration, Steve throws the glass he is holding against the outside wall of the house, the glass shattering and the amber liquid splashing all over the stark white paint, gleaming in the moonlight. A heart attack. Of all the things his father could have died of, being a cop, a heart attack feels so fucking ironic Steve wants to rip the world apart for doing this, for allowing this to happen.
He’s so tired, but he knows he won’t get to sleep. He can still see the people at the funeral, the glaring absence of his sister a punch in the gut. Can remember people shaking his hand and giving him their condolences and kind words, and how he’d kept his eyes staring ahead when facing the grave, his dress blues constricting and everything he was made of keeping him from falling to his knees and sobbing, hitting the stone, cursing his father for doing this to him.
His plane to New Jersey is in the morning, and Steve is so eager to tell Danny about his decision to transfer to the Reserves, his choice to settle down. Just see him, after more than a year, just a few short phone calls in between, broken words and secret confessions made under the cover of talks of sports and Grace. Steve misses him so much it’s a constant throbbing inside his chest, his heart bleeding out and making it hard to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function.
He’s not so eager to tell Danny about his father’s death, but he knows sharing the burden and the deep grief that he can’t shake, talk about these things he’s angry about, these things he’s sorry about, Steve knows it will help. He has no idea how he’ll start and how he’ll end, all his words and feelings about his dad a jumbled, tangled mess through the whole of him. He’s scared of pulling on that piece of string, knowing that it’ll unravel and leave him raw, sliced open for Danny to pick and prod and hurt if he wants to, but Steve knows, he just knows that he has to do it. He’ll carry the weight of these feelings for the rest of his life anyway, but maybe he can make sense of them, with Danny’s help.
There are so many things he regrets he doesn’t even know where to start, what he can change, make better. He’s lost his mother too early, and then he went on forgetting he even had a family until he met Danny and his life changed. Danny made himself a nest inside Steve’s head and heart and pushed the darkness away, with persistent hands and soft words, angry rants and passionate kisses. Tried to tell Steve he should make amends, go back to his family.
Steve should have listened to him. He should have gone to see Mary-Ann more often, he should have told his dad he was sorry for being angry, he should have, but he didn’t. And maybe it’s not too late with Mary, if she doesn’t hate him enough to forget he ever existed. But with his dad - he’s never even really known the man, but fuck if Steve didn’t love him anyway, through the anger and the desperation, and the need for answers he’ll never have, now.
“Goddamnit, Dad.”
Steve runs a hand through his hair, stares at the water for a while longer before walking to it, toeing off his shoes on the way to the ocean and diving in, in his dress blues and with his heart broken in a million pieces.
---
Danny’s not there.
It takes Steve about six hours to panic. He spends three of those waiting at Danny’s apartment door, one at Williams’, which is now called Sweet and seems to be a strip club. Steve attempts to walk in but the door is closed and his waiting around doesn’t bring him anything. The remaining two hours he spends driving around and stopping at places they’ve been, or that Danny talked about, or that look like a place Danny would enjoy, and calling every hospital in the area for any patient called Daniel Williams.
Then, Steve starts panicking. The drive back to his hotel, the walk up the stairs to his room, all of it happens in a blur as Steve tries to think, his mind foggy. What if something happened to him because of Vince or his Uncle Louie or some other member of his family? What if Danny’s dead?
Steve sinks to his knees next to his bed, missing it by an inch and leaning against it as he stares at his hands on his lap, his heart hammering in his chest, trying to break his ribs, to rip him open, his mouth dry and his eyes burning. He would have no idea, if Danny took a stray bullet or was found in a dark alley, beaten up to a bloody pulp.
Danny wouldn’t have let go of his boxing club without a good reason, the kind of reason that is freaking Steve out right now, possibilities too scary to really think about, all of them images flicking in and out of his head like a bad mute movie.
Fuck, Steve can’t deal with this, not now, not when he finally decided to give this - this thing between them a real go, not when he just buried his father. Just, no. Steve watches as his hands start to tremble, and he closes them into fists against his legs, clenching his teeth so hard together it hurts. He doesn’t cry, even though all he wants is to crumble and sob like a kid, like he didn’t do when his mother died.
Suddenly he snaps his head up, trying to focus his eyes through the blur of unshed tears and white-hot anger at the whole fucking world.
Rachel. Rachel and Grace, they have to be somewhere, around. Rachel has to know where Danny is.
Only when he calls the emergency number Danny gave him, an automated voice tells him that line has been disconnected. Steve stares at the wall as the voice drones on and on before ending the call, forcing himself not to throw his phone at the wall.
Instead of lashing out, as much as he wants to, Steve takes a deep, broken breath and dials another emergency number, hearing it ring once, two times before Catherine picks up.
”Steve? I thought you were on leave?”
“I am. Hey, Cath. I, huh. I need a favor.”
”That why you’re calling me on my cell?” She sighs, sounding way too used to Steve coaxing her into doing stuff for him. It used to be sex and beers and dinners half-eaten, but in the more recent years it’s only been dinner, long talks. ”Fine, what do you want? You’ll owe me.”
“I’ll buy you the fanciest dinner next time I’m around. I - I need the current address of one Rachel Sutton, last known location was New Jersey.”
Catherine makes a sound on the other end of the line, a little click with her tongue to tell Steve that she doesn’t really appreciate him using her to chase skirts. Steve’s stomach clenches tight. If only she knew the truth, if only he could tell her the truth. He’s pretty sure she wouldn’t be part of those that would tell, but Steve wouldn’t risk it, even if she was his best friend.
“She’s just a friend, Cath, I promise you.”
”Whatever, Steve - you were never mine, anyway. Do you spell it S-U-T-T-O-N?”
“Yes.”
Steve dry-swallows as Catherine runs the search for her address, knowing that it’s not something she’s authorized to do, but for him she’ll do it anyway. Steve bites his lower lip, his stomach cramping up. He’s probably going to be sick in a minute.
”Okay, Rachel Sutton currently lives in San Diego, California.”
Steve’s whole body goes frozen. Maybe -
”Do you want the address?”
Steve blinks, scrabbling for the notepad and pen on the nightstand, keeping his phone in place against his shoulder. His heart has started beating way too fast again, but this time it’s hopeful, relieved. If she’s gone to the other side of the US, if she’s taken Grace with her, maybe she’s taken Danny with her, too.
“Yeah, yes, please.”
Catherine rattles off the address and Steve jots it down, nodding to himself when he’s got it. Steve wishes fervently for a second he could dare ask Cath if she’s got an address for Danny, too, but the questions it’d raise scare him a little too much. Catherine is way too smart for her own good, and she can read Steve better than most people.
Letting out a breath of relief now that he knows at least Rachel is somewhere, not dead and buried next to Danny somewhere in Weehawken, Steve reminds himself he’s on the phone.
“Seriously, Cath, I owe you, so much. I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear I’ll explain.”
”Yeah, yeah.” This time he can hear a smile in her voice and he wants to hug her so badly it makes his hands tremble again. ”As I said, whatever. Let me know when you’re next on base, okay?”
“I will. Bye, Catherine.”
”Bye.”
Steve hangs up and stares at the address for a while longer, his handwriting messy, a spready scrawl that he can barely decipher. It reminds him of his dad’s - Steve could only barely decipher his rare letters.
Steve stands up on shaky legs, determined. He’s got things to do, now.
---
The house is big, much bigger than Steve expected it to be. It’s the kind of house with a gated driveway and all, and Steve decides to park down the road and walk up to the gate, not wanting to be turned away and have to drive away. At least if he’s here on foot he can wait Rachel out if needed. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it.
He leans against the gate near the intercom, looking down at it and remembering how she looks like, a little blurry around the edges, but Danny’s words still ringing in his ears..
Gathering up his strength and trying to forget as much as possible the different things she could be telling him about Danny, Steve presses the call button and waits, going over the words in his head. When a crackling Hello? comes through, Steve leans closer, hoping his voice won’t break.
“Rachel? Rachel Sutton?”
”Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Steve McGarrett. I am a friend of Danny’s?”
He expects her to ask him what he wants, why he’s here, but there’s no answer and a few seconds later, the door starts to open. Steve slides through, throwing a look over his shoulder as he walks to the door, feeling a little trapped and even more scared than before.
In a way, Rachel reminds Steve of his mother - there’s something about her, something so inherently motherly that Steve wants to step closer and let her hug him better, tell him that everything will be alright, that Danny is fine and that Steve will be, too. He swallows around the lump in his throat, shaking away the thoughts of his family, broken to pieces, only two remaining, so close yet so far.
“Hi, Steve. ”
She extends a hand, and Steve takes the last step, stands in front of her, shakes her hand. Her skin is silky smooth, paler than it ought to be when living in a place like San Diego. He wants to say all the niceties and stupid things people say when they don’t really care, but he cares, he really does.
“Hey, Rachel.”
She steps back, gives him a long look - judging him as if she knows much more than she should, and Steve shouldn’t be surprised by it. He doesn’t even feel angry at Danny.
“So, Steve. You have no idea how much Danny talks about you.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, looking down and scratching the back of his neck. He’s picked up on the present tense, which is all he cares about right now. He doesn’t plan on staying and having a long, deep conversation with Rachel - later, someday, maybe. Right now he wants Danny. Nothing else matters.
“I probably don’t. I’m looking for him. I’ve been traveling for a while and we haven’t really been able to be in contact.”
“Oh.” She looks surprised, which, somehow, reassures Steve. She doesn’t know everything, and she certainly doesn’t know what he does, what he used to do. “Oh, I thought you knew we’d moved.”
Her words make Steve’s stomach drop all over again, the hope turning to ice. Did they move in together here, in San Diego? Is that what is going on, they’re giving this another chance here, on the other side of the US? A clean slate?
“No, I didn’t. So um. Is he here?”
At least Steve wants to hear it from Danny’s mouth. If he’s being thrown to the curb, he wants Danny to do the dirty work.
But then, Rachel laughs.
“What, here? Oh, no, Stan would not be pleased if he had to share his space with Daniel, of all people. No, he’s not here. He should be in his own flat - or maybe at the park around the corner from it. He’s got Grace today. Do you want me to write down the address?”
“If you don’t mind.”
So many ups and downs are bound to make Steve throw up at some point. He feels weak, light-headed, possibly about to pass out. Danny’s alive - at least. Danny’s fine. Steve’s heart soars up to his throat, his whole body clenched with repressed emotions as Rachel steps inside the house and comes back out with a ripped off notepad page.
“Here.”
Her handwriting is clear, neat - very much like her appearance. Steve smiles his thanks, and Rachel takes a step closer, her face changing a little, worry and concern etching over her features.
“Look, I’m not one to meddle with Daniel’s life - he is a great father and that is all I ask of him. I just want to say that, well. He doesn’t deserve to get his heart broken.”
Yeah, Steve definitely feels sick. There’s something edgy and hard under Rachel’s soft words and Steve is not easily threatened, he’s not, but between the way she looks at him and the way she talks, Steve can’t help but feel his stomach knot tight, his lips twisting in a grimace that he tries to school into a blank expression.
He’s not mad at Danny for talking to Rachel about him - he trusts Danny, and Steve couldn’t have expected him not to tell anything to anyone. Danny’s a talker where Steve keeps things hidden . Steve is just not used to this, to caring for someone that much and for other people to care about what he does and the consequences of his actions. He’s used to being in charge, to making decisions and not being questioned for them. He’s not in a war zone anymore, though.
“That’s not what I’m here for, Rachel.”
She nods, looking very much the kind that will hold him to his words.
“Very well. You should go, then. He’ll be happy to see you.”
“Yeah, yes. Thanks, Rachel. Appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
---
Steve remembers feeling this nervous the third time he came to Williams’, the time he decided he’d tell Danny who he is and what he does, the time Danny had been so angry, for good reasons.
This time Danny doesn’t really have any reason to be angry, but there are so many other things he could be feeling - they haven’t talked in months.
It takes Steve a minute to ring the doorbell, and then he stays there, trying to look like anything but a soldier, forcing himself not to stay at parade rest, untucking his shirt from his jeans after a second of consideration. He smooths the front of his button-down with slightly sweaty palms, focusing on his breathing, slowing it down slightly.
The door flings open and there is Danny, with a good five days beard and his hair slicked back, his eyes a little sleepy at the corners, as if he just woke from a nap, wearing long baggy shorts and a distended tee. And yet he looks breathtaking and Steve feels himself lick his lips as their eyes lock, Danny’s mouth opening a fraction.
“Steve.”
It’s a whisper, Steve’s name on Danny’s exhale. It takes Danny two seconds to curl his fingers in Steve’s shirt and pull him forward, close the door behind him, the apartment fresh and dark compared to outside. Steve’s sweating, droplets rolling down his spine, pooling at the small of his back, and now his shirt is sticking to it. Danny’s breathing a little hard, looking at Steve all over, as if - as if wanting to make sure he’s alive.
Steve reaches out, grazing the tips of his fingers along Danny’s cheek, taking in the way Danny’s breath hitches. He leans into Steve and the hug feels so right Steve could cry as he holds Danny.
“I went to New Jersey but you were gone. I thought - for a while I thought you were dead.”
“I haven’t heard about you in 5 months and have not seen you in more than a year, Steve. I thought you were dead. I’m not the soldier, here.”
“Doesn’t make your life safer, though.”
“Now it is. I tried to call, but you were never there, they kept on telling me you had to be on radio silence. And I didn’t dare emailing you. I sent you the flyer for the closing of the gym, though.”
“I was off base for months. I never got it.”
“Rachel met this dude, Stan, and she fell in love with him - why, don’t ask me, the guy’s a goof, but anyway. He needed to move here for work, and she was following and so was Grace, so I - I had to go. And I guess some things you’ve been telling me about my family and how I was putting myself in danger when Grace needs me, well. I guess it stuck, because I cut all ties. They don’t even know where I live now. I work in a small gym not far away.”
Steve nods, letting the information Danny just spilled out sink in, not saying anything, the relief he’s feeling enough, helping him relax against Danny .
Danny exhales again, loud in the heavy silences between them. Steve has so many things he needs to tell Danny, so many things he wants to say, but when Danny slides his hands around Steve’s middle and reels him in, Steve can only willingly step closer. He holds Danny as tight as Danny holds him, feeling tension give way to relief and comfort in both their bodies.
“Oh, my God. Steve, I really thought -”
“I’m fine. I’m actually - really good.”
Danny looks up, his eyes glinting with questions he’s not asking. Steve just grins, shakes his head. It can wait.
Instead of saying anything, Steve leans down, fingers framing Danny’s chin as they kiss, and fuck if it doesn’t taste like home and love and cookie dough and morning afters where you don’t have to be anywhere else. An endless string of morning afters, and Steve realizes right there and then that he can’t wait for them.
When he pulls away, Danny grins, brushing a thumb along Steve’s lower lip. He opens his mouth, about to say something, when a shrill cry resonates through the house and Danny turns around immediately, Steve shaking his head, as if coming out of some kind of trance. He’s been here five minutes at the most, yet he feels like he’s back home already. It feels right.
“Daddyyyyyyyyy!”
Danny throws an apologetic look over his shoulder and disappears around the corner, and Steve follows a little hesitantly, stopping at the threshold of the living room. Danny’s sitting on the floor next to a very grown-up Grace - all brown locks and pigtails and pink dress and teary eyes. Danny kisses her elbow lightly, cooing at her and telling her that it’s nothing. She falls into his arms and folds herself against him, her breathing stuttering against his neck as she slowly calms down, her thumb stuck in her mouth. Danny turns to Steve again, and Steve can only wave at Grace with two fingers, feeling stupidly intimidated.
“She’s very tired. I’ll put her in bed and I’ll be right back, okay? We can do proper introductions later, when she’s up.”
Steve nods, a little dumbstruck - he’d forgotten that Grace would be here, even though Rachel told him. It’s just. She’s so big and so beautiful and Steve can see Danny when he looks at her sleepy, tear-streaked face and he’s overwhelmed. He is, because he signed himself away for a life of this and he’s not even scared - he’s a little excited about getting to know her, actually. The only really scary thought he lets himself think is what Danny will say to Steve transferring, to be with him. What if Danny doesn’t want it? Doesn’t want him?
Danny straightens up with Grace in his arms and she’s already half-asleep, snuggled close to him. He kisses her forehead and throws a look towards Steve before stepping through another door on the other side of the living room, leaving Steve here to force the thoughts away. Danny wants this - he’s asked Steve for this. In not so many words maybe, but he did. And fuck, fuck Steve has lost too many people without knowing them well enough and he’s done with this, he’s done with spending his time trying not to miss people.
When Danny reappears, Steve is curled up on the couch, staring at the black screen of the television, letting his thoughts run wild, trying to capture some of them and put them in order. He’s never let himself think so freely before, and it takes him a moment of Danny sitting next to him, running fingers along the outside of his leg, for Steve to snap out of it.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. You need a nap too?”
Steve smiles at Danny’s light mocking tone, shifting until he’s pressed against Danny, shoulder to knee.
“I’m good.”
“So, how did you find me?”
“Called in a few favors. Got Rachel’s current address, hopped on a plane.”
“You - you went to see Rachel?”
Steve nods, feeling sort of stupid. He looks away from Danny, but Danny doesn’t let him, moving just enough to throw a leg over Steve’s lap, straddling him and trapping him right here. Steve wouldn’t even think about moving.
“I thought she’d know where you’d be, and if she wasn’t in New Jersey then you might have been around, too. I was right.”
“Did she - say anything?”
“Well, she knows who I am. And she warned me that I wasn’t allowed to break your heart.”
Steve can’t help but smile when Danny groans, dropping his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve just holds him close, fingers carding through his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“S’ok. Told her I didn’t plan on breaking anything.”
“She doesn’t know - what you do. She just knows your name. And that I have feelings for you.”
“It’s fine, Danny. I get it.”
Danny raises a skeptical eyebrow when he straightens up, his hands curled around Steve’s biceps.
“Have you told anyone?”
“No. But you, you like to talk. You need to talk. I’ve spent a long time bottling things in.”
“Would rather you didn’t, especially considering - fuck. How long do we have? We lost days with you not even knowing where I was, didn’t we?”
Danny looks panicked by this, and Steve’s stomach drops when he realizes this is it, this is the moment where he changes everything, lays his cards on the table and gives himself up. The fact that it didn’t take him more than 10 minutes to make this life-changing decision after his father’s funeral comes back to him. This is the right thing to do.
When he doesn’t answer right away, Danny grows even more still.
“What? What is it?”
“I have transferred to the Reserves.”
Steve takes a moment to gather in Danny’s reaction, gauging the bad versus the good in the way he looks. Danny just stays right where he is, very still, his eyes looking into Steve’s. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t frown, and Steve feels his heart start to speed up.
“Danny?”
“Does that mean you’ve got nowhere else to be? I just want to make sure I get this right, okay, because I don’t want to get my hopes up but if I get this correctly, you’re not Active anymore so you don’t have to leave, right? Is that it? Are you - are you staying? For good?”
“I might get called in at some point, and I’ll have to go back to base to get some stuff - and I owe a friend a few explanations and dinner, but apart from that, yeah. It means I’m staying. For good.”
Danny doesn’t move for a few moments, breathing slowly, looking every inch like he’s processing the information, and he almost catches Steve off guard when he lunges in, kissing Steve with his whole body, his whole world. And Steve can just take it, wrapping his arms around Danny and grinning into the kiss, something close to delirious bubbling at the surface of his feelings.
Danny pulls away after a while, breathing hard as he pushes his hands in Steve’s hair.
“What made up your mind?”
“My dad died.”
Danny blinks, pulling back a fraction, sympathy bleeding into the blue of his eyes. Steve knows that his condolences will sound truer than most he’s heard in the past few weeks, these past fifteen years .
“Christ, I’m sorry, Steve. You could have -”
“No, I had to deal with it myself.”
“Are you okay?”
Steve nods.
“I’m okay. I - I mean, you know, it hurts, and I’m sad, but. I’m okay. And losing him, losing him while barely knowing him, and missing so much of his life, of not being there for him, it made me think. I don’t want this with you. I want to know you, and be with you, and not miss you. I’m so tired of missing you, Danny. I want to see Grace grow up, too, I already have missed so much, I mean, she’s turning into a proper little lady and she runs around and she talks, and I’m. I want to be there for you and for her when these things happen. Because I leave, I leave and it feels pointless, it really feels like I’m in the wrong place. So I transferred, and. I’m here to stay. If you’ll have me.”
Danny looks like he’s experiencing a million different emotions at once, about to start off on a tirade about everything and nothing and what it all means. But then he deflates, grins bright and large and happy, helping Steve feel so reassured he could sob with relief. Then he leans in, kisses Steve lightly, a dry press of lips, before curling into him.
“Welcome home, Steve.”
---
“So this isn’t bad.”
Danny gapes at Steve for a second, before throwing a look to the estate agent, closing his mouth with an audible sound that makes Steve smile. It’s been 5 months since Steve made San Diego his home - made Danny his home, permanently, and he’s yet to grow bored of Danny’s rants and quirks and all these things Steve learns about him every day. He’d had his doubts, not sure if they’d fit in this new mold, but it’d been surprisingly easy. They fight - god, they fight - and they tease and Danny rants about everything and anything Steve does and says, but Steve can hardly ever find it anything else than endearing, fun. Steve has made a sport of disagreeing with Danny as often as possible to get him riled up.
“This isn’t bad? Steve, compared to the apartment, this is a palace.”
Steve grins wider, looking down at Grace, her head resting on Steve’s chest as she snuggles close. After the few weeks it’d taken her to get used to having Steve around, she’d decided he made a great pillow, and today had been long, running from house to house, visiting way too many of them before this one, which seemed to have gotten Danny’s approval.
“What do you think, babygirl? Do you like it?”
Grace looks up at Steve, then at her father, her thumb stuck firmly in her mouth. She nods, pointing out towards the balcony and the stream running under it. The three of them step outside, and Steve lets go of her, keeping a watchful eye as she holds onto the wooden railing and looks down, trying to find fishes. Danny leans close to Steve, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.
“We can’t afford it, Steve.”
“I’ve got a lot of money saved. It’ll be enough, for a start.”
Danny sighs, sounding frustrated, and Steve swoops in to grab Gracie before she leans too far, holding her secure in his arms, without keeping her from looking.
“Yeah.”
Steve gives Danny a look, nodding when Danny stares ahead of him, into the distance and the houses around, not too close. He wants this for Grace, they both do - not to compete with Rachel and Stan and their mansion, but just to give her the best they can, but it’s not easy, it never is. But they make it work, and they’ll make this work, too. Since transferring to the Reserves, Steve has put most of his restless energy into making this work, in between long work-out sessions and classes at different gyms in the area.
“Fishies, ‘Teve!”
“Oh yeah, yeah I see them, Gracie!”
Steve smiles at her as she points at the fishes appearing in the clear stream, just glimpses of scales catching the sun before they’re gone. Danny leans over the railing next to them to catch whatever Grace is seeing as well, and then he grins, turning to Steve. Steve finds himself chuckling.
“We’ll manage, yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah, Danny, we will.”