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Sympathy for the werewolf	By : mermaidnz Category: G through L > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Views: 3438 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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When their phones start beeping an hour later, Danny gets to wake up beside Steve for the first time. Hopefully, it won't be the last. With their bodies still pressed together, they trade soft sleepy kisses for a few minutes.

Danny never wants to leave the warmth and safety of this bed, but being lazy today could literally be the death of him. So he forces himself to pull away, get up, and get dressed.

Steve just wraps a bathrobe around himself. "No point putting clothes on; they'll be torn apart."

"Hey, it could be worse," Danny suggests. "You could be the Incredible Hulk, and have your clothes ripped to shreds every time you got mad."

Steve rolls his eyes, apparently not comforted by this thought.

In the bathroom, Steve sits on the side of the tub while Danny carefully removes his dressings – having them stuck to the skin when he shifts could be painful. In a normal person, the surgical incision surrounding the bullet hole would probably still be red and raw. But because this is Steve, it has faded to a healthy pink color after just eight days. The edges of the wound have knitted together tightly, the dissolvable stitches already absorbed.

Steve's healed so fast, it looks like the shooting happened weeks or even months ago. There's still a chance that his scar could be split open by the transformation, but Danny feels a lot less worried about that now.

He helps Steve downstairs, where they each have another bowl of soup. Danny makes Steve drink a vitamin-enriched power shake, too, and plenty of water.

Steve looks at the clock once they're done. "I should call Mary and the others, just in case."

"Yeah, about that," Danny says, fidgeting a little. "I really had to fight to keep Chin and Kono away from the house this weekend. So I may have given them the impression that, uh, we were already involved before the shooting."

He's relieved when Steve just shrugs. "Whatever it takes to achieve the objective, right? I'm not ready to come out to everyone, but Chin and Kono are family and I trust them."

"I think a bunch of people already suspect, to be honest – or at the very least, they might've guessed how I feel," Danny admits. "It's not exactly standard cop behavior to sleep in your injured partner's hospital room."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "You did that?"

"I thought the shooter might attempt to finish the job," Danny says defensively. "It was only for the first three nights, before you woke up."

"Well, I'm glad you had my back." Steve looks thoughtful, and then adds, "Huh. Actually, that explains some of the ICU nurses' comments."

"I can just imagine," Danny says, getting up from the dining table. "My point is: try to sound cranky and totally off-limits to visitors when you talk to Chin and Kono. And they still think we hired that home nursing agency, remember?"

While Danny's washing the dishes, Steve calls Kono and plays the role of bad patient to perfection. Given how often he's been one for real, it's hardly a stretch. He tells her that Danny and the agency nurse are fussing like crazy, even though he's fine.

"But by Monday I'll have convinced Danny to go back to work, and to stop wasting money on caregivers I don't need," Steve claims. "So maybe you could visit then, or on Tuesday. I might be better company after I've had some peace and quiet."

He says pretty much the same thing to Chin, who offers an update on the investigation in return. Steve puts him on speaker, and Danny dries his hands and comes over to listen.

"The Radio Shack's surveillance footage just got couriered over from LA," Chin reports. "Looks like Kono and I have a long weekend ahead of us."

"Happy hunting," Danny tells him. "But make sure you guys take some time off, and enjoy this sunshine after all the rain we've had."

"Will do, brah. Best of luck to you too – sounds like Steve's a real handful as a patient."

"I'm sitting right here!" Steve interjects, mock-offended. Danny grins at him, and heads back into the kitchen to get the steaks out of the refrigerator and fill a pail from the faucet.

Steve does a 180º mood spin to talk to his sister, keeping his tone upbeat as he reassures her that he's healing well and everything's fine. He eventually winds up the call by telling Mary that he loves her. Steve then sits silently for a while, staring out at the ocean.

"Time to go, babe," Danny says quietly.

He unlocks the door to the basement, and they walk down the steps together. Danny switches on the newly-installed ventilation system to get some fresh air circulating, fills the water trough, and lays the raw meat out. Steve grimaces, as if the smell makes him feel ill – or maybe it's the knowledge that he'll soon be devouring it ravenously, despite himself.

It's 4.30 now, just over 90 minutes before sunset, and Danny really should get out of here. He reaches up and cups Steve's face with his hands. Steve touches his forehead to Danny's, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.

"I'll be right upstairs," Danny promises. "I'm not leaving, or sleeping, or doing anything tonight except watch over you. You got me?"

"Thanks for everything, Danno. You've been amazing," Steve says, and there's a terrible kind of finality in his voice. Danny wishes he could offer an ironclad guarantee that everything will be fine; he wishes he could be sure that Steve's fears were unjustified.

Instead, Danny kisses Steve slow and sweet, putting all his love into it. He pulls back and says, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah."

Danny shuts and locks the basement door, grateful that his view of the room is blocked by the layer of foam. If he could see Steve standing there, alone in his padded cell, Danny's not sure he could bear to leave.

He secures the reinforced top door behind him, and goes around the house locking every window and door. Finally, he heads up to the bedroom and opens the box of silver bullets. Danny didn't want to do this earlier, in front of Steve, but now it's crunch time. His hands shake as he loads his gun, holsters it, and pockets the extra rounds.

An escaped werewolf isn't the only threat he faces tonight. There's still a risk that the house might be raided by soldiers sent to neutralize Steve, and maybe Danny too. Lead bullets should work just fine on them, so Danny takes Steve's SIG and spare clips from the bedside drawer and his shoulder rig from the closet. Wearing two holsters for the next 14 hours won't be comfortable, but it's nothing compared to what Steve will be suffering.

***

Danny sets up camp on the couch facing the basement door, laptop, snacks and beverages within reach on the coffee table. He's pretty much ready, now. There's just one last thing he needs to do.

Rachel picks up immediately when he calls. "Hello, Daniel. How's Steve?"

"He's still pretty weak," Danny says, "but glad to be home. How are you guys doing?"

"We're all fine," Rachel says, sounding surprised that he'd bother to ask. "Grace is outside – shall I get her for you?"

"Just wait a minute, please. I...Rachel, I wanted to tell you that you're a really great mom. And I'm sorry things didn't work out between us, but I wish you happiness."

She's silent for a long moment. "You sound like you're saying goodbye. What's wrong?"

Rachel's always been able to read him so well; thank God they're not having this conversation in person.

"I'm fine," Danny claims. "I've just done a lot of thinking this week about what's really important to me. Almost losing Steve was a wake-up call, I guess."

"You love him, don't you," she says softly. It's not a question.

Danny considers lying, but he trusts Rachel with this. "Yes."

"And does he feel the same way?"

"I'm pretty sure, yeah," Danny says. "It's the one positive that's come from the shooting – Steve and I have finally been honest with each other."

"Well, I'm pleased for you both. You deserve to be happy too, Danny."

Danny swallows hard. "Thanks, Rach. Can I talk to Gracie now?"

Grace is breathless when she gets to the phone. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, monkey," he says, his mood instantly lifting. "Have you been running a marathon or something?"

"I was in the back yard, playing with Mr. Hoppy," Grace explains.

"Was he running a marathon?"

She laughs. "No! He sat on my lap and I fed him a carrot."

They chat for a while. Grace tells him about the project on dolphins she's doing for school, the chapter book she's just started reading, and the plans for Marisol's party tomorrow. It's all so blissfully normal and safe.

"Sorry, Gracie, I have to go," Danny eventually says. "Uncle Steve came home from the hospital today, and I'm helping to look after him."

"Is he going to be okay?"

Danny bites his lip. "Yeah, I sure hope so. Listen, sweetheart. I want you to remember something, now and always: Danno loves you."

"I know, Daddy," Grace says, serene and sure. "I love you too."

"Thank you. Be good for your mom, okay?"

"I will. Bye, Danno!"

"Bye," he echoes, and then she's gone. Danny slumps back and stares at the ceiling.

He's done everything he can to prepare for the worst; he's lied to practically everyone he knows. Now Danny just has to hope that it'll all be worth it in the end.

***

Danny leans forward and opens his laptop, wanting to check on how Steve's doing. Thanks to some clever work by the security consultant and electrician, Danny doesn't need a separate monitor to watch the CCTV feed. Plugging an AV cable into the laptop and pressing a button brings up a clear image of the basement.

He can see Steve sitting on the pile of blankets in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, gazing blankly at the opposite wall.

Clearing his throat, Danny says, "Steve, can you hear me?"

Steve's head snaps up, and he looks directly at the camera. "Yeah."

"Okay, good. Everything's working, then. You looked pretty zoned out – you want me to leave you alone, so you can meditate or whatever?"

"No!" Steve says immediately. "Please, just...stay. Talk to me."

"Sure, I can do that," Danny says. "Something in particular you want to hear?"

"Anything. Uh – you could tell me about growing up in Jersey?"

It's a real indication of how desperately Steve needs to maintain this last point of connection, since he usually hates it when Danny talks about home. But of the many things Danny's had to do for Steve lately, this is by far the easiest.

Danny starts by describing his folks' two-story weatherboard house on a quiet suburban street. They weren't well-off, especially not with four kids to support, but Ma and Pop always took pride in their home. The backyard was dominated by a big oak tree that Danny, Matt, Rosa and Beth loved to climb. They'd pretend they were kings and queens and it was their castle, or that they were pirates and it was their ship.

He knows that Steve grew up in Hawaii, with just Mary and his parents, so Danny talks about holiday gatherings in the extended Williams-Russo family. The house would fill with relatives, who laughed and argued and ate 'til they couldn't move. As the eldest, Danny was in charge of keeping his younger siblings and cousins entertained. One Thanksgiving, he got in trouble with Ma for teaching the kids poker. But Pop just winked at him, and handed over some pennies to play for.

Danny tells Steve about the pleasures of a real winter, like skating on the pond at the nearby park. Danny wasn't the fastest runner on land, but he was a demon on ice. He and Matt made an excellent offensive duo, perfectly in sync. In pick-up hockey games, every team captain knew not to select one Williams brother without the other.

Always short for his age, Danny learned the hard way how to protect himself both verbally and physically. He got good enough at it to help other bullied kids too. Ma's youngest brother, a local beat cop, watched Danny defuse an impending playground fight when he was nine. Uncle Lorenzo was the first person to suggest a career in law enforcement; that Christmas, he gave Danny a fake badge and some plastic handcuffs.

Steve is leaning against the basement wall, head tipped back, hands loose at his sides, and eyes closed. He's clearly listening, though, because he smiles and winces at all the appropriate moments. Danny's voice is getting hoarse – this monologue has lasted nearly an hour – but he doesn't dare stop. He just cracks opens another can of soda.

Danny goes on to tell Steve about high school, and how playing baseball helped him get girls that wouldn't have looked at him twice otherwise. Then, after a brief hesitation, he talks about the secret crush he developed on his team's star pitcher.

Opening his eyes, Steve nods. "For me, it was wet dreams featuring one of Kukui High's linebackers," he says quietly. It's almost a shock to hear his voice.

It feels so weird to share this incredibly personal stuff via CCTV, but Danny figures that they're not ready to say it face-to-face yet. "Yeah? So when did you first actually date a guy?"

Steve is absent-mindedly scratching his neck, now, and Danny notices his hand trembling. "After Mom died, Dad sent me to live with her sister in San Diego. I didn't join the football team at my new school; I hung out with the geeks instead. Josh was my lab partner for chemistry, and we just clicked. But then he went to Caltech, and I went to Annapolis. Having a boyfriend wasn't really an option, after that."

Shifting position restlessly, Steve wipes sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his bathrobe. "What about you?"

"College," Danny says. "I joined the gay students' group on campus, and that's how I mostly met guys. My first was another freshman, Ricardo. He wasn't out to his family either, so we kind of bonded over growing up Catholic and queer."

Danny looks out the window, his mind full of bittersweet memories. The sun is nearing the horizon; not long to go now. And it seems that Steve can feel it, down in his cell. Abruptly, he stands up and starts pacing across the floor.

"Tell me what you're experiencing, babe," Danny suggests, trying to keep his voice calm. "Talk me through it."

"My heart's racing, and my skin's prickling with heat." Steve rips off the bathrobe and scratches feverishly at his bare body. "My senses are heightened: your voice is suddenly way louder, and this light is too bright. And fuck, that meat is starting to smell good."

Outside, the sun sinks into the ocean. Inside, Steve sinks to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself and shuddering all over. "It's coming, Danny," he says brokenly. "Oh, God, it hurts so much."

Danny's never heard Steve sound this scared. He feels heartbroken and utterly helpless, but there's one more thing left to say.

"I love you, Steve," Danny tells him. "I am totally, stupidly in love with you. So just hold onto that, okay? Hold on for me, and I'll be here when it's over."

Steve looks up at the camera, mouth open. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor.

***

Steve convulses, screaming in agony, as his body gradually reshapes itself. Danny's seen a lot of awful stuff in his life, but this goes straight to the top of the list. It's unbelievable...it's unbearable. Danny buries his face in his hands, unable to watch any more. He mutes the laptop's speakers, too, but those terrible sounds filter up from the basement anyway.

The screams fade away at last, and Danny looks at the screen again through a blur of tears. Steve is gone. In his place is a large wolf, six feet long from snout to tail. Its fur is dark brown, almost black, with gray around the muzzle and ears.

The wolf tips its head back and howls, making Danny's skin crawl. It's like a goddamn horror movie come to life, not 30 feet from where he's sitting. Then the creature races around the room, snarling and sniffing at everything.

Danny has seen a lot of nature documentaries with Grace, and he's always admired wolves – they're smart and strong and generally kinda badass. But the reality of having one in the house is another thing entirely. Danny's fucking terrified now, for Steve and for himself; all the precautions they've taken seem pathetically inadequate.

Growling deep in its throat, the wolf hunkers down in front of the feeding bowl and eats most of the raw steaks. Danny shivers as he watches those sharp fangs rip the meat apart, and tries not to imagine what they could do to him. It goes to the water trough, next, and drinks for several minutes straight.

The wolf is a blur of non-stop activity, after that. It paces, it runs, and it throws itself against the walls as if testing the strength of its confines. Most of all, it jumps at the cage door over and over, desperate to escape its prison.

Even with the laptop muted, the thud of a large powerful body against foam-covered metal is audible through the door at the top of the steps. Thank God Danny had thought to pad the steel bars; Steve could have wound up seriously injured otherwise.

Before tonight, Danny had figured that Steve's habit of discussing the wolf as a separate being was a kind of psychological disassociation – like he couldn't accept that it was part of him. Now, though, Danny understands completely. Steve's in there somewhere, sure. But this dangerous creature has hijacked his body, strapped his mind into the back seat, and taken him on a wild ride. For a control freak like Steve, it must be the worst kind of torture.

After a few hours, the wolf seems to accept that it won't get free...or maybe it's just gathering its strength for another all-out assault on the door. It drinks some more water before retreating to the blankets in the corner and sitting down, panting hard.

Danny's been holding himself still all this time, every muscle tensed and ready for action. He stands up and stretches, wincing as his spine pops unpleasantly, and makes a lightning-fast trip to the bathroom.

His stomach's rumbling by the time he gets back to the couch, so he opens a bag of potato chips and starts eating. And down in the basement, the wolf's head snaps up.

Danny freezes. The laptop's microphone is still on, so of course the sound of his chewing would carry. He finishes his mouthful and says, "Steve, can you hear me?"

The wolf remains motionless, looking at the camera, ears pricked forward. He has its attention now, for better or worse.

"I'm gonna feel pretty dumb tomorrow if it turns out you're asleep in there, Steven, but what the hell." Danny opens a bottle of water and takes a gulp. "Okay, so, did I ever tell you about the time I handcuffed my brother to the monkey cage at the zoo?"

And he's off again, talking like his life depends on it – and maybe it does. Danny reminisces about his childhood some more, goes through the weirdest cases he solved in Jersey, and tells every joke he can remember.

He seems to be keeping the wolf calm, at least; it's lying down on its belly now, slow and even breaths interrupted by an occasional yawn. Danny's also trying to keep himself awake. But most of all, he wants to comfort Steve and maintain their connection.

Danny gets onto the inevitable topic of Grace, and skips randomly from memory to memory. His brilliant daughter was already starting to pick out words by age three; their bedtime story session soon became Grace haltingly reading to Danny. The two of them won the three-legged race at the Newark PD's summer picnic when she was five – he still has their first-place ribbon in a box somewhere.

When she was six, Gracie fell out of the oak tree at his folks' place and sprained her wrist. She got a pink bandage and a strawberry lollipop at the ER, so after the initial pain and shock had passed she didn't seem too traumatized. But Rachel was furious when she arrived, blaming Danny for putting Grace in danger and refusing to believe that he and his siblings climbed that tree for years without ever getting hurt.

With a small whine, the wolf lays its head on its front paws. Danny doubts it's an expression of sympathy; the creature's probably bored as hell. Good. He casts around for something he can discuss at great length, without too much mental effort.

Ah, of course, Danny thinks. Baseball.

He starts off with the high school championship game, where his team won and Danny got the MVP award. Pop had to pull a double shift at the firehouse that day, and was so disappointed that he couldn't make it. But Matt borrowed their neighbors' video camera, and filmed the whole game for Pop to see later. They watched that tape so many times that Danny could have recited the stats in his sleep. He never thought he'd be doing it to send a werewolf to sleep, though.

The wolf's eyelids are looking distinctly heavy now. Danny switches to a play-by-play of Game 1 of the '09 World Series, the last baseball game he saw before moving to Hawaii. He describes how it felt to be at Yankee Stadium with 50,000 other people; what it was like to see the First Lady out on the mound with the legendary Yogi Berra; and how Pop, Danny, and Matt screamed themselves hoarse. The fucking Phillies won anyway, but the Yankees took the Series in the end so it worked out okay.

Down in the basement, the wolf starts to snore.

Danny slumps against the couch cushions, beyond exhausted: he's been running his mouth for close to three hours. He wonders, a little hysterically, if he's the first person ever to talk a werewolf into unconsciousness.

He turns up the volume on his laptop, letting the wolf's bizarrely reassuring snores follow him as he heads into the kitchen to make a pot of strong coffee. It's just past midnight, so there's another seven hours 'til dawn. Fuck, Danny wishes this was happening in the summertime instead.

He grabs a pizza from the freezer, and pulls out that pint of cookie dough ice cream while he's at it. If ever there was a time for eating ice cream straight out of the carton, it's tonight.

While waiting for the pizza to cook, Danny pours himself some coffee and stands at the back door. He stares at the full moon, hanging low in the sky and casting a silvery path across the calm water. It's stunningly beautiful; God, he wishes Steve could see it too.

Danny goes to the bathroom, and then rechecks all the locks. From the front door, he can see the two HPD guys sitting in their squad car outside the gate. Danny feels bad about putting them in greater danger than they can ever know, but grateful for the extra protection all the same.

It'd seem weird to those officers if the house stayed lit up all night, so Danny switches off the living room light. The laptop screen will provide enough of a glow to see by. Anyway: if commandos surround the place, it'll be easier to spot them if his eyes are already adjusted to the dark.

Feeling better after pizza, coffee, and ice cream, Danny leans back on the couch and contemplates the slumbering wolf. Is Steve still awake in there, or does his mind automatically switch off when the wolf's does?

There's so much that Danny doesn't understand about this whole lycanthropy thing. Despite his lingering curiosity, he decides not to ask any more questions after tonight. But if Steve needs or wants to talk, Danny will listen.

The wolf sleeps for another few hours, and Danny relaxes just enough to watch some TV. He finds a re-run of an old hockey game – it's the New Jersey Devils vs. the Phoenix Coyotes, because the universe apparently has a twisted sense of humor. Danny divides his attention between the television and the CCTV feed until the wolf starts to stir, then switches off the game (he knows the Devils win, anyway).

Once the wolf wakes up, it devours the rest of the steaks. Then, re-energized, it goes back to running around and trying to escape. Just watching it constantly in motion makes Danny feel worn out, despite all the caffeine and sugar in his system. But he can't afford to let his guard down.

The sun is due to come up around 7am. About an hour beforehand, the wolf begins to howl again. It's as though it can tell that the end is near – that it's about to be tucked away in the recesses of Steve's mind, hopefully for the rest of his long and healthy life.

The last minutes of the night drag horribly. The wolf's cries become even more plaintive and otherworldly. It's not exactly cold inside the house, but Danny's got goose-bumps.

Outside, the sky gradually brightens as the sun rises over the mountains...and finally, finally, the change happens in reverse. The wolf falls to the floor, and shakes like it's having a seizure. But this time, Danny watches every second avidly. This process is something few people have ever witnessed, and – God willing – something he'll never see again.

If it wasn't happening before Danny's eyes, he'd say it was impossible. The wolf's limbs elongate and straighten; the ears, snout, and fangs shrink back to human dimensions; the tail disappears; and the fur is replaced by skin.

Eventually, it's Steve lying there once again, naked and shivering and gasping in pain.

***

Danny takes a deep breath, and leans closer to the laptop's microphone.

"Steve? Can you hear me?"

The silence stretches out, and Danny fears the worst. Does the wolf still have control of Steve's mind, or is he just too traumatized to speak?

Then there's a hoarse cough and a barely audible, "Let me out."

Danny shuts the laptop and goes over to the basement entrance, gun in hand as a safeguard – he can't risk a not-quite-right Steve getting free. He opens the top door, locks it behind him, and then pauses at the bottom of the basement steps. Danny can't see Steve from here, but can hear him panting harshly. It's an animalistic sound.

"Hey, partner, how are you feeling?"

"Pretty bad," Steve whispers, which Danny automatically translates to 'absolutely fucking awful' by normal, non-SEAL standards.

"I just gotta check before I open this door," Danny says. "What was the last thing I told you, before you changed?"

"You said you loved me, and that I should hold onto that." Steve takes a heaving breath, sounding close to tears. "And I did, Danno, I did."

And that's enough to convince Danny: this really is Steve, in full possession of his body and faculties once again. He holsters his weapon, unlocks the cage door, and walks over to Steve who's still curled up on the floor.

"Come on, up and at 'em," Danny says gently. "This is the first day of the rest of your life."

Steve rolls onto his back, and Danny winces at the sight. Steve's face, hands and forearms have taken a battering, despite all the padding. The dark bruises stand out vividly against his pale, sweat-clammy skin, and his eyes are horribly bloodshot.

Danny bends down, carefully helping him up and wrapping the discarded bathrobe around him. Steve sways on his feet, and falls into Danny's arms; Danny almost collapses under his weight.

"Okay, babe, it's over now. You're gonna be all right," he says, stroking Steve's hair. "Let's get you out of here, huh?"

They make slow progress up the steps, Danny murmuring encouragement the whole way. When they reach the living room, Danny says, "What do you need: first aid, breakfast, fresh air, or sleep?"

"Bathroom, then sleep."

Once Danny gets him into bed, Steve immediately curls into the fetal position with a deep groan, like every inch of his body aches.

Fuck, Steve looks terrible. Danny wants to take him to the hospital, but his miraculously healed chest wound – Christ, that scar looks years old now – would raise too many awkward questions.

"You want some Tylenol, or one of the prescription painkillers they sent you home with?"

Steve shakes his head. "Just need a few hours' rest."

"Okay. Sleep well, then." Danny tucks the comforter close around Steve's trembling body. He's planning to head back downstairs to clean up, but Steve grabs his wrist as he's pulling away.

"You must be so tired, Danny," Steve says. "Stay here with me."

God, it's a tempting offer. Danny's weak with exhaustion, but he does a quick mental check first. All the windows and doors are locked, and the basement secured. His gun and Steve's are on the bedside table, within easy reach.

It should be safe to relax his guard, at last.

So Danny strips off his clothes and lies down behind Steve, wrapping one arm around his partner's beautiful, blessedly human body. He presses a kiss to the back of Steve's neck, and closes his eyes.
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Sympathy for the werewolf