I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: this story is not officially done and I don't usually post until I've got a decent ending. Even the title is a bit arbitrary because of that. However, this little twiddle has me confident enough to trust that it's gaining ground with the muse, so I'm going to begin posting. Please be patient with an unknown future chapter posting schedule. Non-beta'd; any errors are my own. If you see something significant, please let me know. :-)

Lovingly gifted to Miss KomodoQueen as a "pick me up" !

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

He knew he wasn't well. In fact, he hadn't been well for a very long time. The only difference now was that his body was joining in on the party by proving its resentment to the ongoing strain being inflicted upon it. Owlishly blinking at the paperwork he held in his hands, Danny finally let the folder sink to his lap. He closed his eyes, immune to the clap of thunder and the strength of the wind and rain which pounded Steve's house. Exhausted and feverish, he could barely focus on the case work, let alone care about the hurricane thundering outside.

"Danny." He heard Steve and didn't answer. Instead, he rubbed his eyes until his vision sparkled, a sick chill momentarily shaking him down to his bones. With his son so grievously ill, yet looking so very normal, it was ironic really. He tried to hide the juddering clenching of his muscles and failed miserably when he heard Steve's aggravated sigh.

"Take a break." Danny made a face, his aching head resting against the pillows he'd shoved behind him in an attempt to get comfortable on Steve's sofa. His mind wandered again to just the prior day and a meeting he'd had with the doctors. Charlie would be facing more tests in four days time; tests wisely postponed because of the fickle storm which had overtaken the Hawaiian islands. It wasn't fair. None of it. Nothing had been fair from the time his son had been no more than a starry-eyed wish to the advent of an unexpected hurricane which seemed to prevent potentially critical care from continuing.

"I'm serious, Danny. Take a break; you look like shit." He nodded as Steve's voice boomed from the opposite side of the room, eyes closed, his fingers allowing whatever remaining papers he still held to fall slowly to his lap. Tired, he didn't even try to open his eyes or voice a reply. He didn't have the energy to argue. It was true that he wanted to sleep but his brain was obstinate in its obsession.

"He's going to be fine," Steve said. "He's got the best doctors and they know what they're doing. You've got to trust in that or you'll drive yourself crazy." His voice was closer now and Danny felt the dark shadow loom over him. "Try to get some rest, Danno. No one's going anywhere tonight until this weather blows over." The file folder and any loose papers were gathered up from his lap. The sound was soft, subtle, and spelled the absolute end to his ongoing penchant for distraction and even for self abuse.

He did shirk away though when Steve's hand fell on his forehead, its coolness easily conflicting with that of his own fevered heat. Another shiver ran through his bones as if his skin craved to be soothed and he fought a new feeling of nausea that suddenly toyed with his stomach. He cursed himself while swallowing hard to combat a rusty-throated cough. Charlie didn't look sick; never acted sick. Ironic was an understatement.

"Damn it, Danny," Steve complained, his hand following the slow disagreeable toss of Danny's head. "What the hell are you trying to do to yourself? You've got to stop this ... you're not going to be good for anyone ... least of all Charlie if you run yourself into the ground!"

Danny moaned a reply which managed to convey all his desperate sadness into one low monotonous sound. Steve was right of course. The freakish storm had been well documented by the weather service and people had been preparing for days. If Charlie's doctors had truly felt their plans threatened, they certainly would have moved the appointments up and made other care arrangements. Danny knew that because that had been the point of the prior day's meeting at the hospital. He had to respect that. He could trust the decisions. They all even had made sense as he and his ex-wife sat together in the large, comfortable office absorbing sage medical advice, nodding like a pair of stupid lemmings. However, as a father, he simply couldn't so easily cope with what was so badly out of his control when it came to his little boy.

"It's not fair," he murmured quietly. "So ... so not fair. He's just a little guy."

"I know," Steve replied. There was nothing else to say. He moved Danny's legs aside so he could sit on the edge of the sofa while he studied his friend's face. Nothing had been fair, but Danny was only making things more difficult by obsessing, worrying and running himself into the ground. He was sick now. Thoroughly and utterly run down to such a degree that a simple sneeze had now morphed into something more akin to the flu.

Shit. Steve winced as he realized something else. If Danny was indeed this sick and spiking a fever, he might very well be denied being able to see Charlie or be with him for his coming appointments. The doctors would never risk allowing the boy near anyone so ill.

His frown deepened and he looked at the ceiling when the lights in his house dimmed, the brown out lasting much longer than the one before. The wind increased at the same time, the rain cascading against the house in near deafening sheets of sound. They were bound to lose electricity as a thunder cracked overhead and the lights flickered wildly. Steve sat quietly on the edge of the sofa, unmoving and unconcerned about the weather in general. He was more than prepared with extra food stuffs, batteries and camping lanterns. The storm was the farthest problem from his mind. In fact, as his eyes fell back to Danny's face, maybe the storm was a blessing in disguise. An imposed period where he could quite literally focus on making Danny rest and getting him back on his feet.

Steve chuffed an odd noise in his throat as he watched Danny partially roll away from him and onto his side to burrow into the cushions. He had his arms wrapped over his chest as another chill rippled through his chest. Not needing to say anything, Steve tugged the spare blanket from where it had been folded on the back of the sofa and draped it over his friend's upper body.

He stood up in one easy motion, Danny now unmoving as he fell into a real doze. Seriously worried about what the next few hours might mean for his friend, Steve walked to the window, the hairs on the back of his neck on end when a flash of lightening lit up the entire lanai, showcasing the dramatic bend of the wind-whipped palms in his yard. A series of ominous flashes further illuminated the rolling black clouds in the night sky, proving that the storm was just as resolute about its own intensity.

~ to be continued ~