When Steve arrives at his house late in the evening, he's a little surprised, but also incredibly grateful to find the Camaro parked in front of it. They've had an awful week, two parallel cases and one of them hitting close to home; leaving the whole team affected by the tragedy a young family had to suffer. It had been a couple of very long days, short nights and little sleep. The icing on the cake was the governor biting his head off in today's seemingly never-ending meeting about the slow progress in solving the cases. But there's only so much you can do if your team is short two men all of a sudden.

Danny had called him in the afternoon to confirm that the DA had accepted all evidence and that charges were pressed in both cases. While that had been great news, Steve is sure his response had been lacking enthusiasm and Danny must have picked up on his mood over the phone. Sometimes it's downright scary how well they know each other.

Steve rubs a hand over his face and gets out of his truck. He is exhausted and he knows he won't be good company tonight, but it will be nice to have Danny and the kids around for a while. When he opens the front door, he's greeted by the weirdly familiar and domestic sounds of a family dinner and he can't help but grin. He is tempted to yell something ridiculous like "Hi, honey, I'm home" but he's too tired to deal with whatever reaction that would rise out of Danny tonight.

Instead Steve drops his keys on the sideboard next to the door and follows the noise to the dining room. Grace is telling something from school animatedly, her hand with the fork still in it flying and waving, not unlike Danny's would. Charlie is using his fork to bang it loudly between his plate and the salad bowl and Danny stops mid-reprimand when he sees Steve appearing in the doorway.

"Hi," Steve says, looking at the three of them and he smiles, feeling oddly happy at the sight despite his weariness.

"Hey," Danny says, "look, we started already, I didn't know when you'd be home." He looks a little beat, too, as he gives Steve a quick once-over, not quite able or maybe not even bothering to hide the worry at what he sees. It's not surprising, because if Steve looks anything like he feels, it must be really bad.

Charlie though, doesn't notice anything's amiss and he uses his father's diverted attention to leap out of his seat and haul himself at Steve. Steve catches him and picks him up, marveling at how and why he has earned this small boy's love and trust so easily. It's exactly the kind of distraction he needs tonight even if the volume of Charlie's voice doesn't exactly help with the headache that's been lurking all day.

"Uncle Steve, can we read my new book after dinner? It's about all the largest things in the world and it has the pyramids and a monster truck and there's this huge ship that—" Charlie says and Steve has to interrupt him firmly, "Sure, buddy, we can read your book later. Let me eat something first, alright?" He sets Charlie back on his chair, leans down to give Grace a small kiss on the top of her head and pats Danny on the shoulder. "Be right back," he says and heads for the kitchen.

Steve takes a clean plate out of the cupboard and pulls a bottle of water out of the fridge. He has to take his meds and he hates it. He's still got to take one sort of pills for the liver, and there are new ones to help keep the radiation poisoning in check. He hates this so much, being dependent on something, even if it's just pills that actually do help him. Of course he chokes on the last one, shuddering on the nasty, bitter taste in his mouth, and he has to swallow hard to bring it down. He had intended to take some pain killers, too, to get rid of the headache, but fuck this.

Annoyed with himself, Steve rubs a hand over his mouth and takes a couple of deep breaths. The symptoms of the radiation sickness have abated some but between this and the liver transplant, he's loath to admit that he's not as fit as he used to be and as he's used to being. A day like today, and even taken the whole past week into account, it shouldn't leave him this kind of exhausted. He has responsibilities, people are relying on him, he needs to be strong and he cannot afford weakness. He just can't—

A loud bang and Grace's laughter bring him back to reality and he willfully pushes the dark thoughts out of his mind. Everything will turn out alright, eventually, it has to, defeat is not an option. Steve grabs the plate and the water bottle and heads back to join the the Williams family in the dining room. Danny eyes him skeptically as he sits down, a silent question "Are you alright?" and Steve answers just as silently with a short nod.

He doesn't have much of an appetite, thanks to the meds, but as he starts eating, he notices how hungry he actually is. The food is delicious, Danny really is a great cook, and soon enough, Steve has emptied his plate and wipes off the last remnants of salad with a piece of bread. He leans back in his chair and listens to Grace telling them about today's cheer practice and he shares a small grin with Danny when Charlie tries to get a word in, too, and Grace waves him off impatiently each time.

When Charlie finally gets to tell him how he and his friend pretended to be racing cars and he won all three races around the sandbox on the playground, Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek several times to stop himself from yawning. Now that the food hits his system, he feels more content, but at the same time the tiredness is catching up with him fast. He soaks up the cheerful atmosphere the kids are providing like a sponge, and it feels so good to be included in this, to be made part of it, even if only temporarily. He briefly thinks that Danny is actually sharing his kids, his family with Steve, but the implications of what that might mean are too profound to contemplate tonight.

Steve sits up a little straighter and stifles another yawn, not quite successfully, and Danny takes that as a cue and starts cleaning the table. "Just put the dirty dishes in the sink, I'll clean them later," Steve says as Danny picks up the stack of used plates and heads for the kitchen. Grace follows at his heels, carrying the bowl with leftover pasta like the well-mannered girl she is, but Steve guesses her true intention is to get back to her phone as fast as possible. He grins at her retreating back and gets up, too, collecting their glasses.

"Can we read my book now?" Charlie asks, eager for Steve's attention and he is practically bouncing on his chair now that dinner is officially over.

"Sure, Charlie, go get your book, I'll be right there," Steve says, putting the glasses carefully into the empty salad bowl and picking it up. He nearly collides with Danny when he takes a step towards the kitchen.

"Whoa," Danny says and reaches out to steady himself, his hand landing on Steve's arm, a little above his elbow. The touch feels solid and reassuring, and the warmth of Danny's hand seems to spread from his elbow up to his shoulder and down to his fingertips. Danny smiles at him fondly, and Steve's heart skips a beat for no apparent reason, other than the affection he can see in Danny's eyes.

"Come on, go, read that book with Charlie, I'll take this," Danny says. He releases Steve's arm and takes the salad bowl, but he doesn't move. They hold each other's gaze for a moment longer, and only when Grace suddenly appears in the doorway next to Danny, giving them a funny look, Steve realizes that he was about to reach out to Danny and—damn!

The moment is lost, Danny moves to the side to make room, and Grace passes through the doorway, making a beeline to grab her phone from the sideboard, as predicted. Charlie reappears in that moment, too, book stuck under his arm, and he takes Steve's hand, tugging at it a little.

Danny is still standing there, still holding the salad bowl, not moving and he looks just as bewildered as Steve feels. He's not sure what exactly, but it feels like Grace just interrupted something. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking, because Steve is tired, he can't really think straight anymore tonight, maybe he's just seeing things.

Charlie tugs at his hand a little more, impatiently, and demands "Come on, Uncle Steve!"

"Yeah, I'm coming," Steve says and turns, exchanging one more look with Danny over his shoulder. Danny gives a short nod and a wave with his hand, "Go on!", and Steve lets himself be dragged to the living room by Charlie.

Reading books with Charlie is easy and mostly fun. Usually it involves little actual reading, because Charlie either tells the story himself or he asks a thousand questions about the respective book's subject and whatever else comes to his mind. Tonight is no difference, they're settled on the couch, Charlie nestled into his side and Steve's arm around his middle. Charlie shows him all his favorite pictures in the book, telling stories that he makes up as he goes along. When they reach the chapter on ships, Steve tells Charlie which kind of ships he has served on and explains about aircraft carriers and submarines.

Charlie listens intently, asking lots of questions, but soon enough he starts to rub at his eyes, a sure sign that he's getting tired. Steve takes the book out of Charlie's hands and puts in on the coffee table. He lowers his voice a little, and tells a story from his grandfather instead, that he had heard many times when he was a kid himself and that he had loved. After a while, Charlie yawns widely and sags a little more into Steve's side, and by this time, Steve also feels his eyes drooping.

He puts his feet up on the coffee table, slides down a little lower on the couch, so that he can rest his head against the back and he closes his eyes. He can feel and hear Charlie's even breathing next to him, and it's soothing. He can hear Danny rummaging in the kitchen, he can hear the occasional pings from Grace's phone and it feels so good not to be alone right now. Having Danny and the kids here is easy, it feels right and he should probably be surprised by how much he is enjoying this, but he is not. He feels himself relax, gives into it consciously because this is where he can relax, where he doesn't need to be strong, where he can be just Steve.

He must have dozed off because he wakes to a gentle touch on his shoulder. It's quite an effort to open his eyes, but he sees Danny standing over him, and he's stroking lightly over Steve's collarbone with his thumb. It feels nice and Danny smiles and whispers "Go back to sleep, it's just me, gonna watch the game."

Steve wants to answer, wants to thank Danny for coming over, for sharing and taking care—

"Stay tonight," is what he says instead, though, and it's half a question and half a plea. "Of course," Danny says, like he had intended to do that all along, and maybe he had.

Danny's hand falls away from his shoulder and Steve's eyes fall shut again on their own accord. He can feel the sofa dip as Danny sits down next to him, comfortingly close, and he can feel their shoulders bump and their arms brush as Danny leans into him a little. The TV comes up and Danny lowers the volume until it's just a faint white noise, lulling him under. Before he falls back asleep, it crosses his mind that maybe Danny finds as much comfort with him, as he does with Danny. It's a freakingly nice thought.