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[personal profile] patch_tails
Title: Breathless
Collection: Surfboards and Pineapple Pizza
Rating: G
Content of Note: none
Written for: [livejournal.com profile] sd_ldws Round 4, Week 2 -- Challenge cliché/genre was “action” and the prompt was “Breath, baby, breath.”
Characters/Pairings: Steve/Danny
Word Count: 399
Notes: Tied for third place! Thank you to everyone who voted! Concrit is like water to a thirsty kitty, readily and gratefully accepted. :D



Breathe

Danny grabbed desperately for Steve’s shirt. He got a firm handhold and kicked hard for the surface, his partner a dead weight behind him. He broke the surface with a gasp and headed for shore.

Breathe

It was supposed to be a routine stop. Go in, show a picture around, question some people who may or may not have seen their perp around the day before. Nothing was ever routine.

Come on, Steven, breathe!

Danny supposed he could consider it a lucky break. If by “lucky break,” you meant “lucky to get to chase one Devon Kalila and then get shot at!”

Damn it, McGarret, if you don’t draw a fucking breath right this second --!

And of course, of course their running gunfight would end up on some Godforsaken pier. And of course Kalila would decide that if he was going down, the cops chasing him were, too. Danny can’t chase the image of Steve getting hit and falling. It’s one that he knows will haunt him for a long time.

Come on. Come on, Steve! Breathe, you inhuman bastard!

Danny’s sure Steve would have just shaken it off and gone on fighting if he hadn’t been standing so close to the edge of the pier. The impact to his shoulder sent him right over. Chin and Kono, who’d been right on their heels as they shot by, took care of Kalila while Danny went after his partner.

Steve, you’ve got to breathe. You hear me, babe! You have to breathe. I can’t tell you -- tell you -- Damn it! Breathe!

Danny’d stood at the end of the pier for a few seconds, searching desperately for Steve. When he didn’t surface, Danny had proven that he could, indeed, swim. He threw off his shoes, whipped off his tie, and dove in. Steve had just been hanging there, lifeless. The gunshots weren’t fatal, but the angle he’d hit the water on had been bad. As soon as they hit solid ground, Danny started trying to revive him.

Come on, come on! Brea -- Thank God!

Steve gasped and coughed, rolling over and expelling sea water. Relief flooded Danny.

“Asshole!” Danny smacked the back of Steve’s head. “I’m revoking your Superman status!”

Steve’s voice was rough and raspy, but his grin was bright. “Can’t get rid of me that easy, Danno.”

That’s it. Breathe, baby, breathe.
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