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There are about a million different explanations for soulnames, and Danny Williams doesn’t believe a single one.
Sure, his parents raised him in the Proper Catholic Tradition – that God placed the name of your soulmate on your wrist and it’s your duty in life to find them. But Danny’s been a cop for too many years to buy into that sort of bullshit. Sure, soulmates might be compatible in the strictest of physical senses, but that doesn’t change the domestic violence stats or the divorce rates.
Really, the violent, animal passion of soulmates is far more likely to get the parties involved killed than anything.
Which is exactly what happened to poor Terri Hibino when her “soulmate” found her, only to realize she was already married to someone else. He presses his lips together in a tense line as he finishes signing out the last of the case’s paperwork, smoothing his thumb idly over the thin black band wrapped around his own left wrist, concealing the almost unintelligible scrawl of his soulname.
“Hey, Williams,” Detective Meka Hanamoa says, slapping a case file down on Danny’s desk and jolting him out of his thoughts. “You’ve got a new case.”
“I think you mean we’ve got a new case,” Danny replies, shooting Meka a pointed look.
“Nope, just you, brah,” Meka answers, his grin far too wide for Danny’s liking. “They’re sending me out to DC for a few days to liaise with the FBI about that drug running operation we shut down two weeks ago.”
“You lucky son of a bitch,” Danny says, but he’s wearing a grin to match Meka’s.
“I’m taking the red eye flight tonight,” Meka adds. “You better be able to keep yourself out of trouble for five days.”
“Are you accusing me of being a troublemaker, Detective Hanamoa?” Danny asks, arching an eyebrow at Meka.
“Nah, brah. You don’t have to make trouble – trouble finds you!” Meka laughs, earning him a light kick to the shin from Danny.
“Ye of little faith,” Danny snorts. “Get outta here and go pack before I make you do paperwork or something.”
“Will do, Williams,” Meka says, a fond smile still on his face. “I meant what I said about staying out of trouble, though.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Danny replies, waving him off. “I’ll try my best.”
Meka grins and ruffles a hand through Danny’s pristinely gelled hair, making him let out a squawk of protest. He manages to dart out of reach before Danny can exact any retribution, though, instead leaving Danny to try (ineffectively) to rearrange his hair properly. He sighs, but he’s more amused than annoyed at this point.
However, as he turns to survey his new case file, all mirth leaves him.
He stares at the neatly typed print blankly for a moment, before, with unsteady fingers, pulling up Deputy John McGarrett’s personal file on his computer.
Immediate Family: Steven J. McGarrett (son).
Danny’s fingers itch to pull at the band around his left wrist, to shove it down and recheck the name hastily scrawled over the pale skin just below the heel of his palm.
For a moment, he considers asking for a reassignment. They’d have to give it to him if he asked – he knows they would. Any cases involving your soulmate, whether you’ve met them or not, can be considered a conflict of interest.
Danny opens the case file and continues reading.
---
The instant Danny meets Commander Steven McGarrett, every single preconceived notion he’s ever had about soulmates is confirmed. Staring down the barrel of your soulmate’s gun has violent passion written all over it. He doesn’t even need Steve to show his ID, spent what felt like hours staring at images of him while he read his navy transcript (the parts that weren’t redacted, at least), but he forces him to anyway, because Steve needs to know off the bat that even if they’re soulmates, Danny’s not about to sacrifice procedure.
But then Steve calls the governor and it only goes downhill from there.
“Governor Jameson gave me jurisdiction. I’m making you my partner,” Steve says, with the smirk of someone who knows they’re going to get their way. “We’re gonna get along great.”
“No,” Danny snaps, cheeks turning ruddy with anger. “No, you don’t get to do this, alright? You do not get to just march on into my house and uproot my entire life.”
“Don’t be overdramatic,” Steve snorts, already heading for the apartment door, clearly expecting Danny to follow. “It’s a minor career change. It’s not like I’m uprooting you across the country.”
Danny steels his jaw at that, biting back a harsh retort. He knows that Steve is probably trying to get a rise out of him, but there’s also something about the statement that makes Danny pause. Because Steve is turning his life on its head in more ways than just his career, simply by being his soulmate –
– unless Steve isn’t his soulmate. It’s not unheard of, soulmate dysfunction. Steve’s name may be on Danny’s wrist, but that doesn’t mean Danny’s is on his. Somehow, that comforts Danny. The last thing he wants right now is a soulmate and all the associated baggage, and it seems that for once luck is on his side.
“And I never said I was keeping you on for more than this case,” Steve continues, gaze cool.
“Good to know,” Danny mutters as he follows Steve out the door, almost forgetting to lock it on the way out. (Then again, he suspects that locks are rather inconsequential in his neighborhood.)
Of course, maybe saying luck is on his side isn’t entirely accurate, because while driving to talk to their gun runner, Rachel calls.
“I take it your marriage didn’t end well,” Steve says as soon as Danny hits the ignore button.
“No,” Danny sighs, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Of course, it would have helped if she hadn’t dropped me like a hot potato the moment she met her soulmate. Moving out to this pineapple infested hellhole was just the final nail in the coffin.”
Which, of course, sparks an argument about the many and varied assets of this godforsaken island he’s stuck on. Danny revises his earlier thoughts – this is what proves to him that this whole soulmate thing is a load of bull.
He can honestly not think of two people more incompatible than himself and Commander Steven J. McGarrett.
---
Less than an hour later, Steve gets him shot and Danny wonders if maybe God just has it out for him.
---
To say that Danny is surprised when Steve hands him an envelope which grants him three nights at the Kahala hotel is nothing short of a massive understatement. A lump forms in his throat and his eyes widen as he wonders if he’d gotten the whole situation wrong. Maybe this whole soulmate thing is a little less one-sided than Danny had hoped.
Steve is attractive, devastatingly so, and for a moment Danny’s almost tempted to take him up on his offer, but the rest of him knows that getting involved with his soulmate – casually or not – can only end badly. And the soulmate spark between them might be strong, but Danny’s resolve is stronger.
“No,” Danny blurts out, cutting Steve off. “Look, I don’t care what you think we are to each other, but I barely know anything about you and I am not about to spend three nights in a hotel with a virtual stranger. A stranger who got me shot, no less – ”
“Whoa, wait a second, hold up,” Steve interrupts, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. “I wasn’t implying that – I thought you and Grace could go. Without me.”
“Oh,” Danny says, and it’s his turn to blush now.
“Even I’m not quite that straightforward,” Steve replies, smirking slightly.
“Right. Well,” Danny says awkwardly, his words stilted. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to file a workplace harassment suit just yet,” Steve snorts, but he seems more amused than offended by Danny’s assumption.
“I don’t know, does getting me shot count as harassment?” Danny asks, arching an eyebrow at Steve.
“Can’t you just let that go already?” Steve groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I said I was sorry.”
“And I said my acceptance was still pending,” Danny counters easily.
“What’s the point of demanding an apology if you’re not going to accept it?” Steve asks, pinning Danny with an incredulous look. “I said I was sorry!”
“Fine, apology accepted,” Danny huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, one hand still clenching the envelope Steve had given him tightly.
“Great. Can we move on now?” Steve asks, mirroring Danny’s stance and crossing his own arms.
“Fine,” Danny answers.
Steve nods stiffly and as he turns away, Danny wonders how they’re going to survive as partners if Steve giving him a gift turns into an argument. Which, granted, is mostly Danny’s fault, but Steve seems to have a special talent for ruffling his feathers.
There’s no way this is going to work.
---
He and Steve work. God, do they work.
Granted, they argue more often than not, Danny screaming about how Steve’s going to get them killed while Steve orders him to loosen up and chill out. That soulmate spark’s still there, and Danny feels it itching at his skin more often than ever. With every near-death experience, Danny has to reign himself in from dragging Steve down to maul him with frantic, biting kisses until they’ve worked off all that extra adrenaline still thrumming in their veins.
When he manages to tear himself out of those moments, he has to doggedly remind himself that he’s grateful that their bond is a dysfunctional one. Steve has baggage – god, does that man have baggage – and no matter how strong the soulmate pull, acting on it would only end in blood and hate.
He’s seen too many young lovers mangled by their soulmates to pretend that he and Steve would somehow be an exception. Passion is only just that.
Not that there aren’t some soulmates that work out, a small part of him argues. As much as he hates what Rachel and Stan did to him, they fit. And his parents are soulmates. Their relationship has held together through four children, and Danny and Rachel’s didn’t even last through one. Meka and Amy had each other’s names scrawled on their wrists and Danny doesn’t know if he’s ever seen a widow more torn apart by grief in the wake of her husband’s death.
So yes, a small part of him acknowledges that maybe he and Steve would work as soulmates.
Of course, that would require their bond to be reciprocal. Danny’s pretty sure it’s not.
Steve has never mentioned anything about it, not even in passing. No pointed questions about Danny’s opinions on soulmates (although Danny’s made his thoughts on the matter pretty clear, so maybe Steve doesn’t need to ask). But still, Steve hasn’t even mentioned soulmates in the most casual of conversation.
Plus, Danny’s pretty sure he’s still sleeping with Catherine. Soulmates rarely have relationships with other people if they’ve met their soulmate. Rachel and Stan are the perfect example.
Even if soulmates break up, they invariably get back together.
“So you and Malia are back on,” Steve says, gesturing to Chin with his beer bottle. Five-0 is sprawled out around a table at a beachfront bar near Waikiki after a successful case, and Chin’s face is flushed with happiness and pride as he grins and says, “Yeah, brah.”
“Congratulations,” Danny says, patting Chin on the shoulder. “It only took you how long?”
Chin rolls his eyes, but lets out a huff of laughter.
“You know Chin likes to take his time with things,” Kono laughs, smiling over the opening of her own bottle.
“Hey, well I’m moving faster than any of you,” Chin protests, fixing the rest of the crew with a pointed look. “Unless the rest of you have soulmates squirreled away somewhere, you’re the slow ones.”
“You were just lucky, coz,” Kono replies. “Not all of us just happen to be lucky enough to steal our soulmate’s surfboard.”
“There are websites for that kind of thing, you know, finding soulmates,” Chin points out, raising his eyebrows at Kono. “And you could always abuse 5-0’s resources.”
“Do you know how many con artists and serial killers use those soulmate forums as hunting grounds?” Danny protests. “You’d get yourself killed. Also, I’m pretty sure abusing government resources to find someone is classified as stalking, soulmate or not. In fact, soulmates in general are a bad idea.”
“Well, you’re not bitter,” Kono quips, earning her a glare from Danny. “You know, maybe a soulmate would mellow you out.”
“I highly doubt that,” Steve mutters, taking another swing of his beer.
“Yeah, what about you, Steve?” Chin asks, and Danny frowns as he watches Steve freeze up for a split-second. “You met your soulmate yet?”
Steve pauses for a moment, before saying, “Yeah, actually.”
He doesn’t say any more.
“So…?” Kono asks expectantly. “You can’t just leave us hanging, brah.”
“Soulmate dysfunction,” Steve says simply, his words clipped. “And they’re, uh. I don’t think they care much for the whole soulmate thing in general, anyway.”
“Sorry to hear that, Steve,” Chin says, his expression pitying.
“That sucks, boss,” Kono adds, her expression mirroring Chin’s.
“What you have with Catherine is good, though, isn’t it?” Danny says, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve tenses for a moment before relaxing into the touch. “Just because you don’t have a soulmate doesn’t mean you’re doomed to die alone. I mean, statistically you’re less likely to be murdered in a crime of passion this way.”
“Thanks, Danny,” Steve says dryly, but there’s a certain edge of tension to his wry smile. Danny glances away from him just in time to see something shift in Chin and Kono’s expressions – an almost knowing look in their eyes. Kono glances away quickly as she catches Danny’s gaze.
Maybe he’s just imagining things, though. How many beers has he had now?
“Right, how about a happier topic?” Danny announces, trying to dissipate the sudden undercurrent of awkwardness. “Have you and Malia set a date for the wedding yet?”
“Not quite yet,” Chin answers, his smile returning. “We were thinking fall, maybe. Sometime when all the mainlanders aren’t clamoring for the best Hawai’ian wedding venues.”
“Solid plan,” Steve says, a bit of tension draining from his posture at the change in topic. Danny tears his eyes away as soon as he realizes that his gaze has lingered for just a moment too long.
As Chin expands on the few wedding plans he and Malia have already made, Danny can’t help but feel a small stab of possessive pleasure at the knowledge that Steve doesn’t have an actual soulmate. A wave of guilt washes over him as soon as he registers the thought, though. Part of him wants to march up to Steve’s soulmate and demand to know why they don’t think Steve is good enough for them. Steve may have more baggage than the average person – than most people, really – but he’s loyal to those he loves, strong in both body and mind, great with kids, if how he acts around Grace is any indication –
– and Danny really needs to cut off this train of thought before he gets in an deeper.
Shit, he’s in love with his soulmate.
---
“We have a third body,” Chin announces when Danny arrives at HQ the next morning.
“Fuck,” Danny swears, raking a frustrated hand through his hair as he looks up at the grotesque photos displayed on the screens.
“Private Jim Palakiko, stationed at the Marine Corps base in Kaneohe,” Kono says, bringing up their victim’s file.
“A Marine this time?” Danny asks, frowning. “The other two were Air Force. What’s the connection?”
“None that we can find, except for the fact that he just came back from abroad,” Kono answers, expression equally steely. “Of course, the higher ups – ”
“ – won’t tell us where he was,” Danny finishes.
“Exactly,” Kono says, her smile wry.
“So all we know is that they were all military, they were all stationed abroad recently, and they were all shot after having their soulnames mutilated,” Steve summarizes, his expression grim.
“See, the part I don’t understand is the soulnames,” Chin says, bringing up photos of each of the victims’ wrists, bloody and mangled. “This looks like it should have something to do with what they were up to abroad, but I don’t see how the soulnames fit into that.”
“Maybe they cheated on their soulmates while out of the country. When their soulmates found out, they wanted revenge,” Danny suggests. It fits the bill well enough, considering the stats for crimes of passion with soulmates.
“Neither Palakiko, Silva, or Addison were married, though,” Kono points out. “And even if they were involved with their soulmates, we have no evidence that their friend circles overlapped, making it highly unlikely that their soulmates would coordinate to murder them.”
“So, what, you think they were chosen at random?” Danny asks, glaring at the photos on the screen.
“I think that maybe there’s a connection here we’re missing,” Steve answers. “And I think we should start by tracking down their soulmates.”
“Kono and I will talk to Silva’s family again. You and Danny take Palakiko’s. Whoever finishes first can go to Addison’s,” Chin says, straightening up and heading towards the door.
“Will do,” Danny replies, falling into step next to Steve in a movement so automatic and natural it makes his stomach tie itself in knots at the implications. He doesn’t even manage a token protest when Steve slides into the driver’s seat of his Camaro, which really shows how far gone he is.
“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to start ranting about soulmates?” Steve asks as he pulls out of the parking lot, making Danny blink at him in surprise.
“Do you want me to start ranting about soulmates?” Danny asks, frowning.
“I just figured it was kind of unnatural that you hadn’t started on about how this is yet another example of the dangers of soulmates,” Steve says, shrugging, but there’s something slightly off about his tone.
“We don’t technically know that this is a soulmate on soulmate crime,” Danny replies, studying Steve’s expression carefully.
“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Steve counters, which, well. He kind of has a point.
“Are you disappointed that I’m not ranting about soulmates?” Danny asks, lips turning down in a slight frown.
“No. I’m just saying it’s unnatural,” Steve answers. “Needed to make sure you weren’t dying or something.”
“Well, I’m not,” Danny huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
They fall into silence for a moment, an increasingly rare occurrence between the two. There’s a certain tension between them, though, which Danny doesn’t miss. Steve keeps his gaze firmly on the road the entire time, not sparing Danny the smallest of glances.
“Look, I know you don’t like the whole concept of soulmates, but do you think you can stop rubbing it in?” Steve finally says, breaking the silence.
“Rubbing it in?” Danny repeats, lost.
“Not all of us have soulmates, alright?” Steve explains, his shoulders stiff with tension. “And I know you don’t like it, but at least you have the option.”
“I don’t,” Danny replies. His answer is enough to make Steve actually tear his gaze away from the road for a moment, surprise reflected in his eyes. “Dysfunction.”
“Shit, Danno – ” Steve says, his expression softening. “You should have said something.”
Danny shrugs, but doesn’t otherwise reply.
“Was it Rachel?” Steve asks suddenly, catching him off guard.
“No,” Danny answers, letting out a short bark of laughter at the absurdity. “God, no.”
“But you’ve met them,” Steve presses, a note of something almost akin to curiosity in his tone.
“Yeah,” Danny replies simply.
“Are they back in Jersey? Is that why you’re so weirdly attached to that lump of concrete?” Steve asks, and part of Danny wants to cut off this line of conversation before he slips up and Steve realizes, but part of him needs to talk about this. He hasn’t told anyone, even though he’s been living with it for months now, and getting his thoughts in order might be… therapeutic, almost.
And it might be a better idea to talk to someone other than Steve – anyone else – but one of Rachel’s greatest criticisms of him was always his hotheadedness.
“I love Jersey because I can get real food there, people dress appropriately for work, and I never had to deal with sharks, barring the loan variety,” Danny huffs, not that he’s truly annoyed. “But no, he’s not there. He’s in Hawai’i, actually.”
There’s something that shifts in Steve’s expression when Danny realizes he’s slipped up with his pronouns when talking about his soulmate. However, there’s no hostility in Steve’s expression. Same gender soulmate pairings may be rarer than male-female, but they’re not unheard of.
“Does he know?” Steve asks after a moment.
“No,” Danny answers simply.
“Why haven’t you told him?” Steve presses, and while part of Danny wants to snap at him about being too nosy, another part of him wants to keep playing this game.
“He’s in a relationship,” Danny sighs, sinking down into his seat a little. “Not with his actual soulmate, but he seems happy, and the last thing I want to do to his girlfriend is what Stan and Rachel did to me.”
“So you’re never going to tell him,” Steve clarifies.
“No, probably not,” Danny answers simply.
They lapse into silence for a moment.
“What about if you were him?” Steve asks suddenly.
“What do you mean?” Danny replies, frowning.
“If someone had your name as their soulname, wouldn’t you want to know?” Steve explains, glancing over at Danny for a moment to study his expression. “Even if it isn’t reciprocal, do you think you should have the right to know who has your name on their wrist? You should have a say in that decision, yeah?”
Danny pauses for a moment, thinking.
“No,” he finally says. “I wouldn’t want to know. Soulnames don’t actually mean anything. Scientifically speaking, they just indicate that two people are biologically compatible. And anyway, if I did know about it, how would I know if they actually like me or if they just feel obligated to be involved with me because my name is on their fucking wrist? I don’t want to be an obligation.”
“So you wouldn’t want to know,” Steve summarizes.
“No, Steven, I wouldn’t want to know,” Danny confirms.
The rest of the drive passes in silence.
---
“Any luck?” Steve asks when they meet up back at headquarters again.
“No,” Chin says, lips pressed into a thin, unhappy line. “No one knows who Silva’s soulmate was. As far as we know, they never even met.”
For a moment, Danny almost regrets that the proposed bill to register every American citizen’s soulname never went through. It would have made for an invaluable resource, as far as police work was concerned. Still, the part of him that never wants Steve to find out about the sloppy cursive on his own wrist understands the public outrage at the proposal.
“Well, we got lucky with Palakiko,” Danny says, breaking himself from his thoughts as he brings up a file on the surface table. “About a week ago, he received a letter from Amelia Wu, claiming to be his soulmate. According to the text messages we found on his phone, they were planning on meeting for coffee this Friday.”
“You think she’s our killer?” Chin asks, studying Amelia Wu’s photo blown up on the screen.
“It’s unlikely,” Steve answers. “It wouldn’t make sense for her to schedule a date with him on Friday if she’d planned to kill him on Wednesday. Her address also checks out, and I don’t think that she would leave behind identifiers like that if she was planning on killing him.”
“Well, let’s go talk to her,” Kono says.
Which is how Danny finds himself rubbing soothing circles on the back of a woman who’s bawling her eyes out into his shoulder. Even though he’s never cared for soulmates, he’s not heartless enough to press for answers as he waits for her to calm down.
“I’m sorry, I – ” Amelia finally manages, pulling herself upright again and wiping angry at the tear tracks on her face. “ – I never even met him, but – ”
“We saw the text messages,” Steve says, voice surprisingly soothing. “You two talked a lot.”
“You know, when Lea told me it was a bad idea to get involved with a Marine, I thought she had a point, because it’s not easy to have a long distance relationship, especially when you know that every day they could die, but then I heard Jim had transferred to the reserves, and – ” She cuts herself off, voice choked, and Danny starts rubbing her back again. “I thought I didn’t have to worry anymore.”
“Lea?” Kono asks, a crease forming in her forehead. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“We’re in support group together,” Amelia manages, nodding.
“What support group is that?” Chin asks, his expression thoughtful.
“It’s for soulmates of soldiers overseas,” Amelia explains, drying her eyes again. “I didn’t think I should go at first, but then a friend of mine told me that you could go there for counseling even if you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. When I found out that Jim was a Marine, I thought I’d go to get advice on whether to contact him or not, and the people were just really nice, so I ended up going to a few meetings. There’s one this evening, actually.”
Five-0 exchanges a significant look.
“Could you tell us where this meeting is taking place?” Steve asks politely.
“The coffee shop on Waialae, across from the First Hawaiian Bank,” Amelia answers, and Danny pats her on the back again. “But you don’t think someone – I don’t think anyone there would – ”
“I know,” Danny says, his tone soft. “But we have to follow up on all possible leads. Did anyone else know Jim was your soulmate?”
“Only the people in the group,” Amelia replies, shaking her head. “I was going to talk to Lea about it at today’s meeting, but – ” She cuts herself off with a small sob.
“We’re going to find who did this,” Steve says solemnly, not soft but somehow comforting.
Amelia manages to nod slightly.
---
Kono and Chin go to talk to Addison’s family in an attempt to find any connection to their newfound support group while Danny and Steve go to attend the meeting itself. However, halfway there, Steve gets a call.
“McGarrett,” he barks as he answers his phone. Danny, meanwhile, grabs onto the oh shit handle as Steve almost blows a red light. “Yeah, Max?”
After a moment, Steve’s expression actually brightens a bit, and he says, “Will do,” with a suspiciously pleased expression on his face.
“What was that about?” Danny asks, eyeing him warily.
“Max found a foreign hair on Palakiko’s body,” Steve answers, taking a corner a little too quickly, so that Danny gets banged up against the door. “The DNA’s not in the database, but we have something for comparison.”
“Right, but we have to actually have a suspect before we can do any of that,” Danny sighs, trying to tighten his seatbelt a bit.
“I’m going to drop you off at the meeting and then swing back around to Amelia Wu’s to get a sample,” Steve says, and oh, oh Danny sees where this is going. “You can get hair samples from the people at the meeting.”
“You know what, how about you attend the meeting and I’ll talk to Wu,” Danny suggests. He’s never attended any sort of support group before, but not for lack of trying on his psychiatrist’s part.
“I’m Navy. They won’t be as open with me,” Steve protests, which, alright, he might have a bit of a point. “This is the group they go to to deal with the fact that their soulmate is serving.”
“I hate you so much,” Danny grumbles, re-tightening his grip on the oh shit handle as Steve comes to a quick stop in front of the coffee shop.
“Have fun,” Steve replies with a smirk before peeling away from the curb again. Danny glares after him for longer than strictly necessary.
“First time?” someone asks from behind Danny, making him jump.
“Sorry?” he says, blinking at a tall blond man who smiles at him and moves to hold the café door open.
“No, I get it,” the guy says, nodding. “I didn’t want to go to support group the first time either.”
“You’re here for support group?” Danny asks, letting the man usher him inside.
“I’m Chris. My soulmate, Rita, is Air Force,” the man answers, leading Danny over to a table in a more secluded corner where five people are already seated. “You?”
“Oh, I’m not – ” Danny starts, but then he reconsiders. It’s a way in which will surely open more doors. “I’m Danny, and my – he’s a SEAL.”
“Damn,” Chris says, letting out a low whistle. “That must be hard, man. At least I know Rita’s only doing normal missions and not special ops.”
Danny shrugs, unsure exactly how to respond.
“As long as he gets home in one piece, that’s all I really care about,” he finally says, earning him a sympathetic look from Chris and a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I get that,” Chris replies, seating himself at the meeting table, the seat next to him carefully empty in an expectant sort of way. Danny hesitates for a moment, but then lowers himself into it.
“Hey, Chris. Who’s this?” a woman across the table from them asks, peering over at Danny with sharp eyes.
“Danny,” Chris answers. “His ’mate’s a SEAL.”
This earns Danny sympathetic noises from a few of the other people at the table.
“He with you?” the woman across the table asks again, still not looking entirely comfortable with Danny.
“Actually, my friend Amelia told me about you guys,” Danny pipes in, studying everyone’s reactions carefully. “Amelia Wu?”
“Yeah, where is she?” a different woman asks, her thick, dark hair glinting in the sunlight. “Oh, I’m Chiyo, by the way.”
“She said something about a family emergency,” Danny hedges, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“Shit, did she say what happened?” Chiyo asks, and Danny just shakes his head.
“Family?” the hostile woman, whose name Danny still doesn’t know, asks. “She hasn’t heard about what happened to her soulmate yet, has she?”
“Lea, what do you mean about her soulmate?” Chris repeats, sounding alarmed. “It hasn’t happened again, has it?”
Lea – the hostile woman – nods stiffly.
“Sorry, what happened?” Danny asks, faking confusion as he turns to Chris, whose expression is dark and steely. Danny feels a little bit of the tension in his chest loosen as he takes it – it’s probably not Chris, then.
“They’ve been keeping it quiet in the press, but someone’s been knocking off members of the military,” Chiyo explains, her lips pressed into a tight line. “That’s three of our members who’ve lost soulmates already.”
“See, this is why I keep telling all of you to be careful about getting involved with your soulmates,” Lea says, he tone harsh, clipped.
“But it’s not like they died in combat situations,” Chris points out, attempting to soothe Lea who’s bristling like an angered cat. Danny starts watching her a little more closely. “It could have happened to anyone.”
“Well, maybe it’s almost better this way, then,” Lea retorts.
Chiyo hisses a sharp, “Lea!” at her proclamation, but another woman next to Lea, who’s been quiet so far, is nodding along.
“Look, at least this way they never met,” Lea continues, jaw set stubbornly. “It could have been like what happened with Cynthia.” Lea nods toward the quiet woman sitting next to her, who’s been nodding along. “Amelia never had the chance to get attached, which makes the blow lighter.”
Danny supposes, in a morbid sort of way, he agrees. This conversation certainly isn’t making Lea any less of a suspect, though.
“What’s that saying, though?” Chris asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all?”
“But it’s different to love someone knowing they’re going to die before their time,” Lea argues. “If he left the Marines, sure, but it seemed like that wasn’t about to happen.”
Danny watches on carefully as the conversation devolves from there. He pays close attention to everyone, but no one else really sticks out to him like Lea does with her sharp insistence that it was better for Amelia to never have gotten involved with her soulmate.
Still, when he gets up to buy coffee and at the end when he’s mingling while bidding the group members goodbye, he does his best to casually gather hair samples from everyone. He tries to organize them in the bathroom, stuffing them into the tiny evidence bags he’d managed to shove in his pockets.
However, he’s distracted enough that he accidentally runs into someone as he makes his way out of the bathroom. He scrabbles for the door handle as he falls, but he loses his grip on it. Instead, the band covering his soulname catches on it. For a moment, Danny’s worried he’s going to break his wrist, but instead the band snaps with a loud crack.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Danny hears someone exclaim as he tries to push himself up off the floor. Next to him, having also fallen, is the quiet woman from earlier – Cynthia, he thinks it was.
“It’s alright – it’s my fault,” Danny replies, waving off her concern. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“Your band,” Cynthia says, clutching the small strip of severed rubber. “I can get you a new one, if – ”
“It’s fine,” Danny replies, waving her off. Cynthia’s eyes fixate on his left wrist automatically, though, his soulname now naked and exposed to prying eyes. Danny resists the urge to cover it like a blushing version with their shirt off for the first time, but he does tilt it away a little.
“Your soulmate’s a SEAL, yeah?” Cynthia asks suddenly, catching Danny off guard.
“He is,” Danny answers slowly.
“Have you met him?” Cynthia presses. “I mean, I’m not trying to be nosy – you don’t have to answer – ”
“Yeah, I have,” Danny interrupts, feeling a twinge of pity at her anxious tone. “We’re not actually together, though.”
“You’re not?” she asks, curiosity clear in her voice. “Why?”
“It’s complicated,” Danny answers, shrugging. It’s true enough.
“Right, sorry,” Cynthia says, ducking her head slightly. “I shouldn’t – I should let you go. You probably have things to get to and here I am bothering you about your personal life. I – it was nice meeting you.”
“It was nice meeting you, too,” Danny replies automatically, nodding politely.
“Yeah,” she answers. There’s a certain note to her tone which Danny can’t quite place, though. Wistfulness, maybe?
He pushes his concerns to the back of his mind, though, and makes his way out of the coffee shop. He has samples to get to the crime lab, after all.
---
When Danny swings by Steve’s house the next morning, he realizes something’s off almost immediately.
The door, for one, is not locked. Even though Steve occasionally forgets to set his house alarm, he always remembers to lock his door. Danny carefully pockets his key and crouches down to examine the lock, his pulse rate quickening as he sees the telltale scratches of an amateur lock picker around the key hole.
He straightens back up again and un-holsters his Glock as he carefully pushes open the door. As soon as he enters the living room, he freezes. A lamp has been knocked over and a few cushions are strewn on the ground. Thankfully, Danny doesn’t see any blood, but that’s only a small comfort.
“Steve?” he yells out, hating how his voice echoes through the quiet house. “Steve!”
No one replies.
He takes a quick moment to check the rest of the house, half grateful and have anxious that he doesn’t find any bodies. Then, he calls Chin and Kono.
“Hey, Danny,” Chin answers, his voice a little soothing to Danny’s agitated state. “Are you and Steve heading to HQ yet?”
“Steve’s not there with you?” Danny confirms, his heart sinking.
“No,” Chin says slowly, confused. “Why?”
“I’m at his place. His door is unlocked and it looks like someone picked the lock,” Danny explains, steadying himself against the wall, feeling a little weak. “There’s signs of a struggle in the living room, but there’s no one here, dead or alive.”
“I’ll send a crime scene unit over, stat,” Chine replies, his tone going steely. “Do you think this is related to our case?”
Danny pauses for a moment.
“Possibly,” he finally says, a feeling of dread settling in his gut. “Get the DNA comparison results from Fong. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
“Will do,” Chin replies. He pauses for a moment. “Drive safely.”
“Yeah,” Danny replies, and hangs up.
He drives well over the speed limit, in a way which would have made Steve proud – which is probably what Chin was warning him against. Danny’s too worried and strung out to care, though.
“Please tell me we have a DNA match,” Danny demands as he strides into the Five-0 office.
“Fong’s still working on it,” Kono answers, he mouth set in a grim line. “He said it’ll take at least a few more hours, even though he put a rush order on it.”
“Fuck,” Danny swears under his breath, resisting the urge to smash his fist against the surface table.
“Hey, we’ll find him,” Kono reassures him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Either that or he’ll break out and come find us.”
Danny opens his mouth to reply, but his words catch in his throat as something occurs to him and his whole body goes cold.
“Fuck,” Danny says again. “Fuck, this is all my fault.”
“Danny, it’s not – ” Chin starts, but Danny shakes his head and cuts him off.
“No, it is,” Danny insists, his hands tightening into fists. “The support group yesterday, I told them Steve was my soulmate to get them to be more open with me.”
Chin and Kono’s expressions go a little blank, a little cold, and Danny averts his eyes, clenching his jaw.
“Cynthia was the only one who found out Steve’s full name, though,” Danny continues, already moving to pull up what little information they have on her. “Cynthia Lewis, I think.”
“She’s an ER nurse,” Kono points out as Danny displays her file on the screen. “That could be how she finds the victims’ residences – medical records.”
“I’ll call the hospital and see if there’s any record of her accessing Steve’s file,” Chin says.
“What do you think she’s going to do when she finds out my name isn’t on Steve’s wrist?” Danny asks, staring blankly at Cynthia’s driver’s license photograph.
“Danny…” Kono says, a conflicted expression on her face. Chin also looks up at him, his fingers halting over his phone screen where he was dialing the hospital’s number.
“Somehow I don’t think that’ll be an issue,” Chin replies, giving Danny a significant look he can’t even begin to interpret.
“What do you mean?” Danny asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“You’re not seriously that oblivious, are you?” Kono asks, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Yes, apparently I am,” Danny snaps, his temper growing thin. “What are you two talking about?”
“Your name’s on his wrist,” Chin answers. Danny feels a little dazed, like someone’s just clocked him on the head.
“No,” he says, a little numb. “No – that can’t – there’s no way – ”
“I saw once,” Kono interrupts, “when he lost his wristband while surfing.”
“Why wouldn’t he say anything?” Danny demands. “If my name was on his wrist, why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“You mean besides the fact that you’ve made it abundantly clear how much you hate the whole concept of soulmates?” Chin asks, quirking an eyebrow at him. “It doesn’t help that the bond is dysfunctional.”
“But it’s not!” Danny blurts out.
Kono and Chin stare at him for a moment, clearly caught off guard.
“Jesus Christ,” Danny mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You caught on to Steve, but not me?”
“You’re harder to read than you think,” Kono says, cocking her head to the side slightly, giving him a considering look.
“I – alright,” Danny replies, taking in a deep breath. “Alright, we don’t have time for this. We need to find Steve.”
“Let’s get going, then,” Chin says, bringing up Cynthia Lewis’ address with a flick of his wrist.
On the way to his car, however, Kono manages to cut in front of him and slide neatly into the driver’s seat. She holds out her hand for the keys expectantly.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Danny demands, hand tightening around his car keys.
“Keeping you from driving too recklessly and wrapping your car around a tree?” Kono snorts, hand still held out.
Danny opens his mouth to protest, but then closes it again, reluctantly handing over his keys.
“I would absolutely argue with you if we could spare the time,” he huffs as he slides into the passenger seat. “Seriously, what is it with you and Steve jacking my car?”
Kono shoots him a small grin, but doesn’t otherwise respond, pulling out of the parking lot in a motion that’s only slightly saner than Steve’s typical driving style.
By the time they arrive at Cynthia Lewis’ house, Danny’s managed to wrangle himself into some state of calmness. He’s still terrified, of course – terrified that Steve is already dead or dying – but he’s been doing this job long enough to pack away the most severe of his emotions.
The door’s locked, but no one comes running when Kono kicks it in, and Chin has the back door secured. The house is eerily silent as they make their way through it, and Danny’s heart sinks with every room they clear. He’s starting to lose what tenuous hope he has left when Chin finds a door which appears to lead to the basement.
It’s the worst of all clichés, but it’s quiet, secluded, easily overlooked, and the moment Danny steps through the doorway, he smells the sharp, metallic tang of blood.
He makes his way down the stairs ahead of Kono and Chin, carefully bringing up his gun as two figures come into view. Steve’s limp body is strewn out over a worn couch. For a moment, though, Danny swears he sees Steve blink, eyelids moving sluggishly, and a tiny bit of the panicked pressure in his chest decreases.
“Cynthia,” Danny says, voice strong and steady. She whips around to face him, strands of long brown hair flying around her face. Danny doesn’t miss the razor blade clutched tightly in her hand. There’s blood on it, and his eyes dart down to the floor, grateful to see clean cement instead of a pool of blood.
“Danny,” she replies, clearly surprised but oddly unafraid.
“Cynthia, I need you to put down the razor,” Danny continues, his hands completely still as he levels his gun at her.
“It’s for your own good,” Cynthia says, catching Danny off guard. “I’m trying to help you, Danny.”
“You’re trying to help me?” Danny asks, his tone incredulous. “You’ve only met me once, and this – this is not helping. Please, Cynthia. He’s my – ” Danny falters. “ – he’s my soulmate.”
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this,” Cynthia retorts, and Danny struggles not to flinch as she gestures wildly with her hand, which is still clutching the razor blade. “I know people like him – he doesn’t care about you!”
Danny takes a careful step forward, trying to get closer to Cynthia, but she notices, going abruptly still, like a spooked rabbit – or maybe a snake preparing to strike.
“I know soldiers like him,” Cynthia repeats, looking at Danny with big, earnest eyes. “They serve abroad, take a month of leave to fool around with you, and then the minute they have the chance to get back out in the field they leave you and never look back.”
“Is that what your soulmate did to you?” Danny asks carefully, trying to calculate how to get closer.
Cynthia doesn’t reply.
“Because Steve – I know Steve, alright?” Danny continues, pitching his voice lower, softer. “He’s got a new job here in Hawai’i, friends, a house. He’s not going anywhere.”
“That’s what you think,” Cynthia replies, but her tone is less of a snarl and more of a whimper.
“Cynthia, please. I know you’re trying to help me, but it’s already too late,” Danny says, managing to inch a little closer to her. “I already care about Steve, and if you do this, you’ll be the one hurting me, not him.”
“I – ” Cynthia stutters, her voice trembling.
“Don’t do this to me, Cynthia,” Danny says, letting a little bit of the panic and anxiety he’s feeling bleed into his voice. “If you really want to help me, you’ll do this for me.”
Cynthia stares at him for a moment, her eyes wide and glassy. As the silence stretches on, Danny prepares to lunge. It’s not ideal, but she’s turned away from Steve, and she’s only armed with a razor blade. He’ll just have to be careful that she doesn’t cut him anywhere vital –
But then Cynthia’s trembling hand lets the bloodied razor clatter to the ground.
“Thank you,” Danny breathes as he moves forward to kick the blade away from her. “Thank you so much – ”
Cynthia doesn’t respond, though, just stares down at her hands folded neatly in her lap, speckled with blood. For a split-second, Danny’s torn between cuffing her and going to Steve’s side, but then Chin’s there, hefting Cynthia up and pulling her hands behind her back. Danny shoots him a grateful look at Chin nods.
“Steve,” Danny says as he drops down next to the couch, hand coming up to cup Steve’s cheek. “Steve, babe, can you hear me?”
Steve’s eyes slowly track in the vague direction of Danny’s voice, but he still looks dazed and not entirely with it. Danny presses his lips into a tight line and reaches over to check Steve’s pulse. It feels thready under his fingers, weak and scarcely perceptible.
“Kono, I need you to call an ambulance,” Danny says, his voice much calmer than his mind.
“Already on it,” Kono replies, radio in hand. Danny nods and turns back to Steve, eyes darting over his body for any obvious injuries.
He freezes when his eyes land on Steve’s other wrist. It’s littered with small cuts. Thankfully most look shallow and the bleeding looks sluggish, without much spurting. Danny reaches over for Steve’s wrist then, slapping his hand down over the wounds in an attempt to hold pressure.
“What did you give him?” Danny asks when Steve barely responds to the pain of having Danny touch his wound.
Cynthia doesn’t respond.
“Cynthia,” Danny pleads, elevating Steve’s wrist in the vain hope that it’ll stop the bleeding. “Cynthia, you need to tell me.”
Still, Cynthia remains silent, and Danny opens his mouth to demand again, but before he can start yelling, Kono picks up a bottle from a nearby shelf and says, “Ketamine, from the looks of it. A sedative, maybe?”
She pulls out her phone to research it, but before she can get that far, Danny hears the telltale sound of police and ambulance sirens.
“I’ll get Ms. Lewis here to the station,” Chin says, starting to maneuver Cynthia in the direction of the door. “Kono, you get the EMTs down here while Danny stays with Steve.”
Kono nods, and Danny manages a weak, “Right.”
It’s almost physically painful when the time comes for the EMTs and paramedics to take Steve from him. He tries to push his way into the ambulance with them, but there’s not enough room, and he ends up following behind in his Camaro, covering the steering wheel with bloody handprints. Somehow, though, he can’t even find it in himself to care.
At the hospital, he manages to convince one of the nurses to let him into the ER with Steve, does his best to supply them with pertinent information about Steve’s allergies, his medications, recent medical history. He knows them as well as he knows his own and he wonders how he’d never realized what it really meant before.
But after doing what he can to help, all that’s left to do is wait.
---
Danny’s there when Steve wakes up, even though it means sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair for nearly six hours. For once he’s grateful Grace is with Rachel, only because it lets him be here.
It takes Danny a moment to realize Steve is awake. The ketamine Cynthia stole from the hospital put him under pretty well, as did the blood loss. Therefore, Steve’s coming to is a lethargic process.
“D’nno?” Steve slurs, which is finally what catches Danny’s attention.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Danny replies, pulling his chair a little closer to the hospital bed. “You’re in the hospital, and your assailant is in holding at the moment. Although I have to say, looks like your SEAL reflexes aren’t what they used to be. She looks like she’s barely one-hundred pounds soaking wet.”
“Didn’t see the syringe,” Steve mutters, trying to shift himself into a sitting position, but Danny places a firm hand on his chest to hold him down.
“Hey, there’s no rush,” he says. “You just lost a lot of blood and were drugged. You’re allowed to lie down for a bit.”
“Blood?” Steve asks, frowning. “I – ”
A sort of realization dawns on his face, eyes going wide as he brings up his injured wrist.
“Stop that,” Danny demands, placing a steadying hand on Steve’s arm. “You’re going to tear your stitches. The doctors say your soulname should remain intact with only minor scarring if you actually give it time to heal.”
“Did you – ” Steve starts, anxiety clear in his tone. “Did you see?”
Danny pauses for a moment, wondering how to explain.
“Yeah,” he finally says. “I did.”
“Fuck,” Steve mutters to himself, uninjured hand clenching into a fist.
“So, you know, you showed me yours, I might as well show you mine,” Danny continues, reaching to pull off his wristband.
“Danny – ” Steve starts.
“Just take a look,” Danny interrupts extending his arm towards Steve. Steve stares at him for a moment, conflicted, but then his eyes dart down to examine Danny’s offered wrist.
Steve’s silent for a moment, just staring, but then shaky fingers grasp Danny’s wrist, Steve’s calloused thumb brushing gently over the soulname scrawled there in messy cursive.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steve finally asks, breaking the silence.
“Why didn’t you?” Danny counters, because although he’s already heard a version from Chin and Kono, he needs to hear it from Steve.
“You don’t want a soulmate,” Steve says, like it’s a fact of life: the sky is blue, his Glock holds twenty-two rounds, and Danny Williams does not want a soulmate.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Danny replies, hating how Steve seems to shrink a little at his words. “I don’t want some stranger who I’m told I’m supposed to fall in love with just because their name is written on my wrist. But I do want you.”
“You’re not making any sense, Danno,” Steve says, his nose scrunching up slightly in a way Danny can’t help but find ridiculously adorable.
“Fine, let me rephrase.” Danny takes in a deep breath to steady himself. “I’m in love with you. Not because you’re my soulmate, but because you drive me up a wall, and argue with me, and get me shot at on a regular basis, while also making me laugh, and taking care of Gracie, and saving my ass from actually getting shot.”
“I may or may not have a vested interest in keeping your ass intact,” Steve replies with a smirk, which has Danny glaring at him.
“I’m trying to be sincere, asshole,” Danny mutters, his cheeks going a little hot.
“I love you, too, Danny,” Steve says with a goofy grin, and Danny wonders for a moment if there’s still a bit of ketamine left in his system. “I still don’t get why you didn’t tell me, though. You had to have known as soon as you started investigating my dad’s case.”
“I – ” Danny starts, swallowing thickly. “Look, I wasn’t in a very good place at the time. Rachel and Stan had dragged me all the way across the country, I’d just closed a soulmate-on-soulmate homicide case, and Meka, the only person I got along with in HPD, was out of state. The last thing I wanted was a soulmate, and the fact that you got me shot and forced me onto your team didn’t help much.”
“In hindsight, I may be able to see why you didn’t say anything,” Steve replies with a wry smile. “I tried to make it up to you, though.”
“Yeah, having my soulmate, who I’d just met, give me three nights in a luxury hotel room didn’t exactly send the best message,” Danny says, giving Steve a significant look, pleased when Steve’s cheeks go a little pink.
“I didn’t mean it that way and you know it,” Steve grumbles.
“I know that now,” Danny laughs. “The me who’d known you for less than two days didn’t.”
“Well, if I offered you three nights at a luxury hotel now, would you accept it?” Steve asks, a certain glint in his eyes which makes Danny feel heat pooling low in his body.
“On my weekend without Grace?” Danny asks.
“On your weekend without Grace,” Steve confirms.
“Depends on who’s with me,” Danny says, a smile forming on Steve’s face. “I’m a very social person, you know. I get lonely spending an entire weekend by myself.”
“I’m pretty sure my schedule is clear,” Steve replies, his smile turning into a full out grin again.
Danny can’t help but smile back.
---
Somehow, Danny finds himself awake before Steve. It’s a feat he hadn’t previously thought was possible, but maybe Steve’s injuries are still bothering him more than he’s letting on. Danny resolves to keep a closer eye on how much he’s exerting himself.
At the moment, though, Danny’s content to admire how the sunlight dapples Steve’s face, his ridiculously long giraffe eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks. One of Steve’s arms is draped over Danny’s side (his hand dangerously close to Danny’s ass, the menace), but his other arm is squished between them, and Danny finds his eyes drawn to Steve’s wrist.
The stitches were taken out two days ago, but the skin is still pink and tender – and well on its way to scarring. Still, legible around them is his own name, penned in the sort of neat, precise letters he’s mostly forgone amidst the chaos and stress of Five-0. He can’t help but think they look good on Steve’s wrist, though, but maybe that’s just his possessive side talking.
Part of him wants to run his fingers over the scars, brush his lips over them and press light kisses against them, but the last thing Steve needs right now is for him to aggravate the injuries or, worse, infect them somehow. Instead, he settles for tracing the lines with his eyes.
“You’re like that vampire,” a croaky, sleep rough voice says, breaking Danny from his thoughts. “From that book series with the apple on the cover.”
“I am not!” Danny protests, glaring up at Steve, who looks amused.
“I dunno, Danno,” he drawls. “You were watching me sleep and looking at my wrist like you wanted to take a big bite out of it.”
“I’m making sure it’s healing correctly,” Danny protests, but he can tell by Steve’s smirk that they both know that’s not true.
“No you weren’t,” Steve replies, but his tone is fond. “You know what I think it is?”
“Enlighten me,” Danny says dryly.
“I think you like seeing your name on me,” Steve answers, his smirk full-fledged now.
Danny can’t deny it, so he kisses Steve instead.