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I Will Try To Fix You

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Danny’s ears were ringing, and his arm was throbbing from a bullet graze, but there was no active gunfire, and he was optimistic the battle with the Keli’I cartel was finally over. Good thing, too, because he was pretty sure he was down to his last two bullets.

“Kono. Chin. We clear?”

Danny. Second floor, west side. No time.

Danny’s blood ran cold. Someone was down, either Chin or Steve. No-one else would’ve elicited that tone of panicked urgency. He didn’t ask for clarification, just started running flat out.

No time. That was code, known only to their team. That meant someone close to him needed his special skillset, the one no-one else in the world knew about because if they did, he’d be treated like some kind of freak.

“Danny!” Kono waved him over. “Thank god you’re here!”

He forgot to breathe for a moment when he saw Chin kneeling beside Steve’s prone body.

“What the hell happened?”

Kono’s expression was full of self-disgust. “I got pinned down. Steve broke cover for me.”

Of course he did. That asshole liked to think he was Superman, impervious to bullets and tall buildings.

Danny shed his tac vest and passed his weapon to Kono before he got down on the floor. His knees were in Steve’s blood.

“It’s bad,” Chin said, face grim.

Danny could see that for himself. Steve was struggling to breathe, blood bubbling out of his mouth. He’d taken four hits, one of which had likely punctured his lung. He was drowning in his own blood.

“I’m here, Steve.” He pulled Steve’s hand into his, and felt the tremors running through it. “EMTs?”

“Ten minutes out,” Chin replied. “They won’t get here in time.”

Danny could see that, too. If Steve lasted another three minutes, it would be a miracle.

“Kono, help HPD finish their sweep. Keep them away from here.”

Kono nodded, gave Danny’s shoulder a squeeze, and left. Five-0 had gotten really good at covering when Danny used his gift.

“You can do this,” Chin said. He moved to take point, make sure no-one saw what Danny was about to do.

Steve was trying to speak, but all he could get out were pained gasps.

“Steven. Close your eyes.”

Danny gave his hand one last squeeze and then had to let go. He closed his own eyes, too, and rubbed his hands together. He took a couple deep breaths before putting his hands on Steve, one over his breast bone and the other over his stomach. He tried to keep his touch light, knowing any pressure would hurt Steve even more.

Turning his focus inward, Danny reached for that small spark of otherness that lived inside him. He imagined it as a glowing orb, growing bigger and brighter and spreading out into his arms. Danny’s skin was tingling as he moved that glow into his hands and then poured it into Steve.

He could feel every injury: torn flesh, punctured organs, fractured bone. In his mind’s eye he repaired them, knitting the skin back together, mending the bones, stopping the bleeds. The bullet fragments slowly rose to the surface of Steve’s skin, some of them poking into Danny’s hands as they emerged.

There was so much damage. Danny could feel himself starting to flag, so he took a moment for more deep breathing and pushed on, drawing on every reserve of energy he possessed. His lower extremities were going numb.

“Just a little more,” Danny gasped. “Just a little more.”


With just a bit more effort he could get the last of the bleeds. His arms were shaking and the skin there was so hot he felt like he was on fire.

“Danny, stop now.”

His chest was tight. He knew he needed to pull back. He’d never gone so far, given so much, but this was Steve. Danny would give his life for Steve, just as the man was so willing to give his for Kono’s.


Danny fixed the final bleed, and just in time. His head was full of buzzing white noise, and he couldn’t breathe, and the last thought he had before he slipped into the dark was maybe he’d finally burned himself out.


The room was dim when Danny woke, very little light coming through the window. He felt heavy and sluggish, and knew he wasn’t fully recovered yet. He’d never used quite as much of his otherness all at once, and probably wouldn’t be able to heal a papercut for at least a week.

The spark was still there, more a banked ember, but he could feel it. He was too tired to feel anything but resigned.

Danny turned his head, unsurprised to see Steve stretched out beside him.

“Hey,” Steve said softly. “Welcome back.”

Danny shifted, with some effort, so he was lying on his side with his hands tucked up under his head. “Hey yourself. You okay?”

“Better than new.” Steve reached over and tugged the blanket up over Danny’s shoulder. “You?”

“Tired. Some asshole got himself shot up and I had to use all my mojo to keep him from bleeding out in a dirty warehouse.”

Steve didn’t lose his solemn expression. “You pushed yourself too far. I was worried.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

“It’s a stalemate then,” Steve said. He reached out again and pushed Danny’s hair out of his eyes. “Are you hungry? I could heat up some soup.”

Danny took a moment to think about it, but food didn’t appeal at the moment. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“Glass of water would be good.”

“Okay. Be right back.”

Danny drifted a bit while Steve was gone. It wasn’t the first time Danny had healed a bullet wound for him, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes he resented the responsibility his gift put on him, making him the bridge between life and death. Mostly he worried about not being in the right spot at the right time to save the people he loved.

“Let’s sit you up,” Steve said when he came back.

He helped Danny up and gave him a glass of cold water. It felt like heaven going down.

Steve got him settled back in, tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Get some sleep. When you wake up, there’ll be soup.”

“Thanks, babe,” Danny murmured, already half asleep. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Danno.”