The Rubble or Our Sins (2/2)
Title: The Rubble or Our Sins
Author: stellarmeadow
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Paring: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC17
Summary: Steve's visit with Sam the CIA guy leaves him with more questions and a lot of anger to deal with.
Notes: You can blame work for the lateness of this one, too--I was too exhausted to finish it last night. This is part of the S4 Coda Series - if you've missed any, visit the master post.
If you haven't read Part 1, read it here: Part 1
Steve cleared three rooms, coughing from the dust and sand he stirred up. Most of the building clearly hadn't been used for some time, the terror cell apparently having either kept to one or two rooms, or having stashed their prisoners here and made their base elsewhere. Because the prisoners had to be here. The lead was solid, and it had been a week, and he was not giving up on finding Danny.
He went through the fourth door and choked on the smell. He knew it all too well, the stench of decay and rot, and he choked back bile as he spotted the source. Three bodies in the corner, the top one identifiable as Danny from the hair, even if the skin was bloated and stretched. Steve stared, unable to believe his eyes.
No, that couldn't be Danny, because Danny didn't belong here. Danny belonged in Hawaii, not on the outskirts of Kabul. It didn't make any sense. He couldn't be here. Danny couldn't be dead.
Also, Danny was calling his name, and Danny definitely couldn't be dead if he was talking, right?
"Steven!"
Steve woke, sitting up straight on the couch and looking around. Right. Danny's office. He'd been waiting on the couch. Must have fallen asleep in the process, and for at least half an hour, judging by the kink in his neck. He rolled his head around as he looked up at Danny's face, etched with concern. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," Danny said, still eyeing him carefully as he took the seat next to Steve. "Not that I'm complaining, but isn't your couch bigger and more comfortable than mine?"
Steve shrugged. It was bigger, but he'd been waiting for Danny in the first place, and in the second, a less comfy, smaller couch had been meant to keep him from falling asleep. Because sleep sucked. "Sorry, I was waiting for you to get back and must've dozed off."
"Right." Danny looked like he was choosing his next words carefully, and Steve braced himself. "How much sleep have you gotten recently?"
He shrugged again. "Enough."
"Clearly not enough if you passed out on my couch so readily."
"Yeah, well, if you didn't drive like a 90-year-old woman, you might've gotten back here before I fell asleep."
Which was unfair--they'd all been working on this case with little sleep for three days, and Steve actually appreciated the extra caution Danny had probably taken driving back, given how tired he knew Danny must be. But Steve needed a fight, not concern.
"Right," Danny said, clearly not buying it. "My driving is so slow. That's why you fell asleep sitting up on my couch."
Steve tried again. "What's with your obsession with my sleeping habits?"
Danny's lips thinned. "You know," he said, after a long moment, "I worked this case in Jersey once. Cut and dried case, so there wasn't much to work, but it stuck with me because of the scene."
"What happened?" Steve encouraged, because he liked it when Danny told stories about his past, especially when Steve needed distraction.
"This woman went crazy, apparently, and killed all four of her kids. Gassed the whole house. Three girls and a boy, all under eight years old. There was one girl Grace's age--actually, she was in Grace's class at school, but I didn't recognize her at first. I got there before anyone had been moved, and there were the kids, snug in their beds, looking like they'd gone to sleep, except for their pale skin. It was...unsettling doesn't quite cut it as a description."
"I bet," Steve said softly, trying not to imagine it.
"The thing is," Danny continued, looking in the direction of his desk, but Steve knew it wasn't the office he was seeing, "you can't unsee something like that. There's no delete button for your brain. And I would wake up on the couch with the TV blaring most nights afterwards from nightmares about finding Grace like that."
Steve swallowed against the pain in Danny's face. "How long did that go on?"
"A month or so. My captain finally forced me to go to counseling because he could see what I couldn't--the dark circles under my eyes, the way it was affecting my marriage, my temper being on a particularly short fuse."
"How did he notice a difference with that last one?"
Danny looked at him at last, giving him a faint smile. "Funny," he said, before sobering again, but he didn't look away this time. "I saw the counselor, as requested," he said. "But I didn't really listen. I figured nothing she said could block that image from my head. I just had to deal with it. So instead of doing what she said, I worked longer hours, trying to avoid sleep until I could put the image away."
"How long did that take?"
Danny shrugged. "I don't remember. My memory of time seems kind of odd from back then. All I know is that by the time I did start to put it away, I'd pretty much tanked my marriage."
"I'm sorry, man," Steve said softly. "How'd you finally forget about it?"
"I didn't." Danny sighed. "I went back to the counselor and learned how to cope with it. It was too late to save my marriage, but it saved my sanity in the long run."
The joke was there, but Steve didn't want to take it. He wanted to open up, to explain what was going on, as painful as it might be to admit to Danny of all people. "Danny...."
"Yeah?"
The words wouldn't come. "Nothing," Steve said, shaking his head. "Just wondering if there was a point to your story."
Danny looked at him for a long moment, and Steve couldn't shake the feeling that there was disappointment in Danny's eyes as he shook his head. "No point. Just finding you on the couch made me think of that."
Tell him. Steve gave the voice in his head a mental middle finger, saying instead, "It's a rough job. Everybody has trouble with it from time to time."
Danny nodded, the disappointment in his eyes changing to something else, something more speculative. "You're right. Everybody has trouble with it. There's no shame in it."
He knows that. He does. And he's not ashamed of it. He just can't admit it to Danny. Or anyone on his team. "I know."
"Do you?"
"I do," Steve said, trying to put everything he couldn't say into those words. "I know. And...well, I just know. Trust me."
"Okay."
Just like that. Danny's trust was implicit, and one of the reasons that Steve couldn't seem to tell him. He had all these feelings jumbled up in knots when it came to Danny, and he didn't know what to do with a single fucking one of them.
He did know that Danny was sitting right there, though, so close that Steve could smell him, could feel the heat from his body. The memory of that night at his house, just a few short nights ago, came back in a rush, the feeling of being pinned against the door by that same body. He could still taste Danny's tongue, feel the phantom grip of Danny's hand on his cock.
Steve leaned forward without thinking, capturing Danny's lips. Danny kissed him back for a few seconds before he pushed him gently, but firmly away. "We can't do this."
"I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry." Danny scooted a few inches away, folding his arms tightly over his chest, as if he needed the physical distance and couldn't trust his hands without trapping them. "I know I'm giving you mixed signals this week, babe, and I apologize. I shouldn't have done what I did the other night. It wasn't fair. To either of us."
Steve nodded. "Maybe not," he agreed. "But if you hadn't, I don't know what I...well, let's just say you shouldn't feel like it was a mistake, okay?"
"I didn't. It wasn't." He eyed Steve levelly. "But it wasn't fair, either."
Steve took a deep breath, standing up before he did something stupid. "Okay, I should probably get some sleep in a horizontal position, not on a couch."
"Yeah." Danny stood, starting for the door. He turned back when Steve didn't follow. "You coming?"
"Yeah, right behind you."
---
END
Like my fic? Check out my first original novel! Not in the US? Choose your country here:
IN | UK | DE | FR | ES | IT | JP | BR | CA | MX | AU
Author: stellarmeadow
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0
Paring: Steve/Danny
Rating: NC17
Summary: Steve's visit with Sam the CIA guy leaves him with more questions and a lot of anger to deal with.
Notes: You can blame work for the lateness of this one, too--I was too exhausted to finish it last night. This is part of the S4 Coda Series - if you've missed any, visit the master post.
If you haven't read Part 1, read it here: Part 1
Steve cleared three rooms, coughing from the dust and sand he stirred up. Most of the building clearly hadn't been used for some time, the terror cell apparently having either kept to one or two rooms, or having stashed their prisoners here and made their base elsewhere. Because the prisoners had to be here. The lead was solid, and it had been a week, and he was not giving up on finding Danny.
He went through the fourth door and choked on the smell. He knew it all too well, the stench of decay and rot, and he choked back bile as he spotted the source. Three bodies in the corner, the top one identifiable as Danny from the hair, even if the skin was bloated and stretched. Steve stared, unable to believe his eyes.
No, that couldn't be Danny, because Danny didn't belong here. Danny belonged in Hawaii, not on the outskirts of Kabul. It didn't make any sense. He couldn't be here. Danny couldn't be dead.
Also, Danny was calling his name, and Danny definitely couldn't be dead if he was talking, right?
"Steven!"
Steve woke, sitting up straight on the couch and looking around. Right. Danny's office. He'd been waiting on the couch. Must have fallen asleep in the process, and for at least half an hour, judging by the kink in his neck. He rolled his head around as he looked up at Danny's face, etched with concern. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," Danny said, still eyeing him carefully as he took the seat next to Steve. "Not that I'm complaining, but isn't your couch bigger and more comfortable than mine?"
Steve shrugged. It was bigger, but he'd been waiting for Danny in the first place, and in the second, a less comfy, smaller couch had been meant to keep him from falling asleep. Because sleep sucked. "Sorry, I was waiting for you to get back and must've dozed off."
"Right." Danny looked like he was choosing his next words carefully, and Steve braced himself. "How much sleep have you gotten recently?"
He shrugged again. "Enough."
"Clearly not enough if you passed out on my couch so readily."
"Yeah, well, if you didn't drive like a 90-year-old woman, you might've gotten back here before I fell asleep."
Which was unfair--they'd all been working on this case with little sleep for three days, and Steve actually appreciated the extra caution Danny had probably taken driving back, given how tired he knew Danny must be. But Steve needed a fight, not concern.
"Right," Danny said, clearly not buying it. "My driving is so slow. That's why you fell asleep sitting up on my couch."
Steve tried again. "What's with your obsession with my sleeping habits?"
Danny's lips thinned. "You know," he said, after a long moment, "I worked this case in Jersey once. Cut and dried case, so there wasn't much to work, but it stuck with me because of the scene."
"What happened?" Steve encouraged, because he liked it when Danny told stories about his past, especially when Steve needed distraction.
"This woman went crazy, apparently, and killed all four of her kids. Gassed the whole house. Three girls and a boy, all under eight years old. There was one girl Grace's age--actually, she was in Grace's class at school, but I didn't recognize her at first. I got there before anyone had been moved, and there were the kids, snug in their beds, looking like they'd gone to sleep, except for their pale skin. It was...unsettling doesn't quite cut it as a description."
"I bet," Steve said softly, trying not to imagine it.
"The thing is," Danny continued, looking in the direction of his desk, but Steve knew it wasn't the office he was seeing, "you can't unsee something like that. There's no delete button for your brain. And I would wake up on the couch with the TV blaring most nights afterwards from nightmares about finding Grace like that."
Steve swallowed against the pain in Danny's face. "How long did that go on?"
"A month or so. My captain finally forced me to go to counseling because he could see what I couldn't--the dark circles under my eyes, the way it was affecting my marriage, my temper being on a particularly short fuse."
"How did he notice a difference with that last one?"
Danny looked at him at last, giving him a faint smile. "Funny," he said, before sobering again, but he didn't look away this time. "I saw the counselor, as requested," he said. "But I didn't really listen. I figured nothing she said could block that image from my head. I just had to deal with it. So instead of doing what she said, I worked longer hours, trying to avoid sleep until I could put the image away."
"How long did that take?"
Danny shrugged. "I don't remember. My memory of time seems kind of odd from back then. All I know is that by the time I did start to put it away, I'd pretty much tanked my marriage."
"I'm sorry, man," Steve said softly. "How'd you finally forget about it?"
"I didn't." Danny sighed. "I went back to the counselor and learned how to cope with it. It was too late to save my marriage, but it saved my sanity in the long run."
The joke was there, but Steve didn't want to take it. He wanted to open up, to explain what was going on, as painful as it might be to admit to Danny of all people. "Danny...."
"Yeah?"
The words wouldn't come. "Nothing," Steve said, shaking his head. "Just wondering if there was a point to your story."
Danny looked at him for a long moment, and Steve couldn't shake the feeling that there was disappointment in Danny's eyes as he shook his head. "No point. Just finding you on the couch made me think of that."
Tell him. Steve gave the voice in his head a mental middle finger, saying instead, "It's a rough job. Everybody has trouble with it from time to time."
Danny nodded, the disappointment in his eyes changing to something else, something more speculative. "You're right. Everybody has trouble with it. There's no shame in it."
He knows that. He does. And he's not ashamed of it. He just can't admit it to Danny. Or anyone on his team. "I know."
"Do you?"
"I do," Steve said, trying to put everything he couldn't say into those words. "I know. And...well, I just know. Trust me."
"Okay."
Just like that. Danny's trust was implicit, and one of the reasons that Steve couldn't seem to tell him. He had all these feelings jumbled up in knots when it came to Danny, and he didn't know what to do with a single fucking one of them.
He did know that Danny was sitting right there, though, so close that Steve could smell him, could feel the heat from his body. The memory of that night at his house, just a few short nights ago, came back in a rush, the feeling of being pinned against the door by that same body. He could still taste Danny's tongue, feel the phantom grip of Danny's hand on his cock.
Steve leaned forward without thinking, capturing Danny's lips. Danny kissed him back for a few seconds before he pushed him gently, but firmly away. "We can't do this."
"I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry." Danny scooted a few inches away, folding his arms tightly over his chest, as if he needed the physical distance and couldn't trust his hands without trapping them. "I know I'm giving you mixed signals this week, babe, and I apologize. I shouldn't have done what I did the other night. It wasn't fair. To either of us."
Steve nodded. "Maybe not," he agreed. "But if you hadn't, I don't know what I...well, let's just say you shouldn't feel like it was a mistake, okay?"
"I didn't. It wasn't." He eyed Steve levelly. "But it wasn't fair, either."
Steve took a deep breath, standing up before he did something stupid. "Okay, I should probably get some sleep in a horizontal position, not on a couch."
"Yeah." Danny stood, starting for the door. He turned back when Steve didn't follow. "You coming?"
"Yeah, right behind you."
---
END
Like my fic? Check out my first original novel! Not in the US? Choose your country here:
IN | UK | DE | FR | ES | IT | JP | BR | CA | MX | AU