An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 6/25
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams, Steve McGarrett & Danny "Danno" Williams
Characters: Steve McGarrett, Danny "Danno" Williams, Grace Williams (Hawaii Five-0), Charles "Charlie" Williams Edwards, Tani Rey, Junior Reigns, Lou Grover, Jerry Ortega
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Summer in Hawaii, Family Feels, Feelings Realization, Idiots in Love, BAMF Grace Williams, Team Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Well maybe...
Summary:
A story in seven parts, tracing the long, imperfect, heartbreaking but beautiful journey of Steve and Danny.
**★**
Update: New title “From You and Me to Everything” (but still “You and Me”), now with Part 2: Broken (Chapter 6 added). 💛
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Missing scene, not realizing you're in a relationship, make up sex, Tony needs a hug
6.2k words
Suddenly, everything seemed to shift. This didn't feel like a disagreement with a teammate. It felt like a fight with a lover—deeper, more intimate, with far more meaning behind it—but that was wrong. They weren't like that. All the arguments, all the verbal barbs they traded—that wasn’t a relationship. So their spats ended in sex nine out of ten times, fine, that was just blowing off steam for the good of the team.
None of it mattered. None of it was meaningful. They were casual.
They were liars.
Story Summary: Clark has been back for over a year, but back isn't right or rather it's complicated. Everyone, Clark included, acts as if he didn't replace someone else, someone just like him, someone who everyone forgot. It's easy to do and even Bruce knows that he's not a replacement, that he's the sum of lost parts, but he doesn't want to get close, he doesn't want to lose that piece of him again.
I have an incredibly hard time getting back into writing so my friend made me a little prompt list with a prompt a day and I really hope that it will get me back into the groove <3
Alhaitham watches the hubbub in Tighnari’s hut carefully, poised to step out of the way the moment it becomes clear that he’s a hinderance, but by now he’s so far backed against the wall that it barely matters.
Cyno asked him to come for dinner, at least once, citing that Kaveh is somewhat of a regular fixture already, and even though Alhaitham could tell that Cyno had more compelling arguments ready, he almost immediately agreed, simply because Cyno was the one asking.
Alhaitham sometimes wonders why he’s always so easy whenever Cyno asks something of him when Kaveh would testify to the fact that Alhaitham never does what he asks for, and he thinks maybe it’s because Cyno is so very rarely asking for anything.
It’s easy to grant his wishes then.
So Alhaitham had agreed easily and maybe a bit too fast, because now that he’s here he almost regrets it.
Tighnari and Collei have been very welcoming but it’s clear that he doesn’t belong, not in the way he suspects Kaveh to do by now and certainly not in the way Cyno does.
Cyno seems at home in Tighnari’s hut; he knows where things are, works seamlessly around Collei and Tighnari both and his matra training can only explain so much.
It’s a routine born out of familiarity and it’s good to see him being so relaxed for once.
Cyno is too stressed most of the time, too aware of his title and way too engrossed in his work. He should be like this more often, Alhaitham finds himself thinking when Cyno laughs at something Tighnari must have said.
The chatter in the hut had been a bit much for Alhaitham, so he turned the noise cancelling up a bit but now he regrets it. He’s curious to know what can make Cyno laugh like that but even he is socially aware enough to know that asking is out of the question.
He turns his noise cancelling down though, just in case it happens again.
“If I can help—” Alhaitham starts after one more moment of observing them all, not for the first time, and he watches how Tighnari’s ear flicks as if he had forgotten they had a guest today. He must be incredibly at ease with Cyno in his space as well.
“Oh, no, Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, that’s alright,” Collei says, her voice timid as she fumbles around his title.
He wonders if she would be more at ease if he were just a Scribe but somehow he doubts it. She strikes him as the nervous type.
Alhaitham opens his mouth to correct her because he’s here on his free time and so there’s no need for any titles but Cyno beats him to it.
“What did we say about the use of titles in this hut?” he asks, patiently waiting as Collei ducks her head in embarrassment before she straightens up again.
“To not use them, ever,” she recites and Cyno nods.
He’s not more patient with her than he is with anyone else but the set of his shoulder is gentler and the curve of his mouth is softer than it usually is when he corrects some of his matras and there’s a bitter feeling rising in Alhaitham’s throat.
“So, Collei, can I help?” Alhaitham asks again instead of giving any more thought to that feeling and she shakes her head at him.
“No, Alhaitham, thank you. I’m nearly done anyway,” she says with a glance at the table and she is right, too. It’s almost set and there’s not much left to do.
Alhaitham catches Cyno and Tighnari share a look and a small smile and now there’s not only the bitter feeling at the back of his throat but his chest also feels tight.
It’s a reaction Alhaitham has never experienced before and he briefly wonders if he’s reacting allergic to some kind of herb in the hut. Before he can give this any more thought though Collei declares her work done and Cyno and Tighnari carry various pots over to the table.
“Come, sit,” Cyno says, waving Alhaitham closer who easily follows his directions.
It’s clear that there’s only one seat available, because Collei, Cyno and Tighnari seem to have a fixed seating arrangement. That these dinners are a regular thing also becomes clear when Cyno starts to pass around various dishes, sometimes skipping Tighnari, sometimes Collei, obviously knowing which kinds of food they enjoy and which they don’t.
It should be awkward for Alhaitham—he’s clearly intruding on something—but somehow they make him feel welcome anyway. Tighnari is just as passionate about his work than Kaveh is and his rants are met with gentle teasing from Cyno and outright please to stop for both of them from Collei but it’s all taken in good faith and Alhaitham isn’t sure he can remember having a dinner that was accompanied by so much laughter.
That feeling rises in Alhaitham’s chest again and it’s only when Cyno laughs at something dry that Tighnari said that Alhaitham recognises it for what it is.
Jealousy.
The bitter taste of it is almost immediately chased away by confusion.
Confusion, because why would this dinner evoke this particular feeling in him? He’s not a family man and he prefers to take his meals alone and in silence usually. There is no need to be jealous of anything here.
Especially not because if he chose to do so, he could eat together with Kaveh every day.
Alhaitham can’t figure out the reasoning behind that feeling and he must have puzzled over it for longer than he thought because Cyno lightly kicks him under the table.
“Is the food not to your liking?” Tighnari asks, going by the tone of his voice probably not for the first time and Alhaitham is painfully aware of the silence that suddenly descends on the table.
“No, it’s perfectly alright,” he gives back, because it is but Tighnari still raises an eyebrow at him.
“Perfectly alright,” he parrots, his voice clearly stating what he thinks about that description and before Alhaitham can say something else that would surely only further Tighnari’s ire, Cyno chimes in.
“That’s basically him saying he’s enjoying it immensely.”
“Do you often need to translate for him?” Tighnari wants to know and the thought seems to be amusing for Collei because she giggles even as Cyno shrugs.
“He can be horribly blunt sometimes.”
“Pot, calling the kettle black,” Alhaitham drily says and when Cyno pouts at him, even Tighnari laughs.
“It’s rather hard to imagine one translating for the other,” he agrees with a wink to Collei and things go back to normal after that.
It’s a lively dinner, all in all, and when they start to clear off the table—yet again without allowing Alhaitham to help—he excuses himself for a moment.
It’s nice being in company like that but it’s also a little bit overwhelming and the cold night air and the hustle and bustle of the forest call like a siren song to Alhaitham.
No one bats an eye when he makes his excuses and once outside Alhaitham takes a deep breath.
The air is clear and crisp and the sounds of the night are almost soothing enough to make him forget all about his misplaced jealousy but the longer he thinks about the evening, the stronger it gets.
It’s not a nice feeling and Alhaitham is not used to being jealous of anything or anyone, so it leaves him floundering, especially since he can’t pinpoint the exact reason.
“Are you doing okay?” Cyno suddenly asks from behind him and Alhaitham knows that he saw him jumping at his voice.
A suspicion that is confirmed when he turns and Cyno is smirking at him. Alhaitham blames the shock of him appearing out of nowhere for his accelerated heartbeat.
“You have a nice family,” Alhaitham says, and wonders why those words leave such a bitter taste on his tongue. “Collei seems to be doing well.”
“She is,” Cyno agrees as he comes to stand next to Alhaitham. “She’s a lot better now that her Eleazar is gone and Tighnari says she’s like a little flower bud that’s blooming now. He does love his allegories.”
“Much like you love your puns,” Alhaitham retorts and Cyno sighs.
“Fair, I guess. We both have our quirks.”
And they seem to add up so very well, given how at home Cyno seems to be in Tighnari’s hut, Alhaitham thinks and he shies away from how bitter he sounds, even in his own head.
“Collei used to be very wary of me but even that’s getting better now,” Cyno says, simply sitting down at the edge of the walkway around Tighnari’s hut, one leg up so he can rest his chin on it while the other dangles down.
Alhaitham sits down next to him, not wanting to make him crane his neck up to him even more than his height usually already does.
“She seems perfectly at ease,” Alhaitham gives back, and just as if she wants to prove him right her laugher drifts out to them.
Cyno’s smile at hearing it makes Alhaitham’s heart constrict.
“Why did you bring me here?” Alhaitham finds himself asking and Cyno turns his head to him, resting his cheek on his knee.
“I wanted Tighnari to meet you. You’ve barely met, even when you delivered the Sages here, and I wanted to give him the chance to get to know you. For you to get to know him.”
It does make sense; Cyno and Alhaitham are working closely together and Alhaitham would say they have become something akin to friends in that time. It would only make sense that Cyno would want his friends to meet his—family. The thought sends a pang through his chest.
“I see,” Alhaitham mutters, his voice strangely distant, even to himself.
He’s aware that Cyno is still staring at him but everything drowns out under the epiphany he has: he’s jealous because he’s in love with Cyno. He’s jealous because Cyno has found his family—Tighnari, and a daughter, a home and a place where he belongs. And none of it is with Alhaitham.
What a moment to realize, sitting on the edge of Cyno’s boyfriend’s home, as he and their daughter clear away their dinner.
“Are you okay?” Cyno finally asks him and Alhaitham blinks, once, twice, before he nods.
“You have a nice family,” he reiterates because Cyno does and the fact that Alhaitham would love to swap places with Tighnari does not mean that Tighnari is not a perfectly likeable person.
“So you keep saying,” Cyno says, a small frown marring his face now and Alhaitham doesn’t know how to smooth it back out.
He guesses that is something Tighnari usually does.
“Alhaitham, I brought you here to introduce you to my friend and my ward,” Cyno says, sitting up properly now and Alhaitham can’t hold back the little scoff.
“You mean your boyfriend and your daughter,” he corrects him and watches with confusion how Cyno’s eyes go wide before they narrow almost in anger.
“Alhaitham,” Cyno sternly says and it’s his General Mahamatra voice, the one that makes even Alhaitham straighten up, even when he hasn’t done anything.
“Cyno,” Alhaitham gives back, though his voice holds none of the authority that Cyno’s does.
“I brought you here because I kept talking about you to Tighnari and he decided it’s time to meet you.”
“He kept gushing about you, is what he wanted to say,” Tighnari yells over from inside the hut and Alhaitham is fascinated to see Cyno blush.
“He really keeps talking about you a whole lot, it’s getting near unbearable,” Collei helpfully adds and Cyno goes even redder in the face.
“Collei!”
Alhaitham is not going to turn his eyes away from Cyno but he’s sure she ducked back into the hut, probably laughing at the both of them, but seeing Cyno flustered is a sight too good to pass up on.
“You wanted to introduce me to your best friend,” Alhaitham slowly says, his mind whirring. “Because—”
“Well, I don’t need his approval to date anyone, but it’s nice to have it anyway,” Cyno petulantly says, avoiding eye contact with Alhaitham at all costs.
“You could have mentioned that wish to date to me first,” Alhaitham teasingly says, enjoying the pout on Cyno’s face immensely.
“You weren’t receptive to my flirting. I was about to take the direct road after this evening,” he finally admits and now that makes Alhaitham frown.
“Flirting?”
He might not be the best at picking up romantic interest but he is certain he would have noticed if someone flirted with him. Especially if it’s Cyno. Then again he has only realized his feelings mere minutes ago so maybe Cyno is on to something.
“I reserved my best jokes for you,” Cyno tells him and the groan coming from inside the hut makes Alhaitham bite his lip so he doesn’t laugh.
“I told you that was the wrong approach,” Tighnari yells out, and he sounds so annoyed that Alhaitham can’t help but to chuckle.
“It might have been the wrong approach,” Alhaitham agrees even as he reaches for Cyno’s hand to thread their fingers together. “As you can see, the direct road is the way to go.”
“I should have known,” Cyno sighs as he squeezes Alhaitham’s hand. “You are good at coming up with them but you usually don’t appreciate convoluted plans.”
“Now, if the awkward confessions are out of the way would you please come inside for dessert?” Tighnari asks from the door and Alhaitham smiles at Cyno.
“I have a sweetheart right here but sure, let’s do dessert,” he says, drops a kiss to Cyno’s forehead and then gets up before Cyno gets his bearings back.
“Hey!” Cyno yells as he scrambles after him, just as Alhaitham passes Tighnari.
“Do you want me to explain the joke to you?” Alhaitham asks over his shoulder, feeling incredibly playful for a moment and especially so when he hears Tighnari facepalm.
“You truly deserve each other,” he mutters, but when Alhaitham looks over at him, he’s smiling too.
It seems as if Alhaitham does have his approval after all.
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The moment when Eddie finally realizes the difference between an asthma attack and a panic attack. He's never actually had an asthma attack, but he has panic attacks all the damn time.
Stan is the one who gets him to realize it first. After the Neibolt, Stan is so mentally fucked over that his parents get him into therapy. Stan learns about panic attacks and how they come on. One of the first things he connects that to is Eddie. Eddie with all his shortness of breath, hyperventilating, shutting down, yelling and freaking out. So one day Eddie has a self-proclaimed 'asthma attack' and Stan is like “no you're wrong" and proceeds to help Eddie out of it.
After some time, the losers all learn what to do in these situations. Not just for Eddie, but for each of them. Ben and Mike are group favorites for comfort. Ben because he gives the best hugs and, despite his own shyness, he knows just the right things to say. Mike because he's realistic and grounding, always a firm shoulder to cry on.
And back to Eddie, because I love him. While having these- these panic attacks, he really prefers going to Stan. Stan knows what to say, Stan knows how to help, Stan was the one who was taught how to do this stuff. There is, however, an instance where Stan isn't there. Stan isn't there and he starts to have one of his panic attacks, short shallow breaths with wide, dead eyes. And Richie notices, of course. Richie always notices. Richie also knows that Stan is the one who takes care of this and he would be overstepping if he tried to help but Stan is gone and Eddie is panicking and what does he do- So he reaches out and holds Eddie's wrist and pulls him a bit closer and does his best to grab Eddie's attention. It doesn't work all too well, Eddie's still shaking horribly and looking everywhere and nowhere all at once and he still can't breathe. So Richie lets his hand wander up, cupping Eddie's face in his hands. He's gentle but firm, directing Eddie on where to look, keeping eye contact. Eddie hates every bit of it, he hates the way his breath starts to come easier, even if just the tiniest bit, he hates the way his shoulders start to go slack and, most of all, he hates how it's Richie that calms him this easily. Because Stan knows how to get Eddie to slow his breathing, and Stan shows Eddie how long to hold and release, and Stan shows Eddie how to create a false metronome for himself. But all Richie has to do is touch him, all Richie has to do is be gentle.
So Richie starts talking, this stupid calm voice that is hardly ever used. Small things like "Eds, Eds breath.", and "Just like that, you got it.", and whatever else he manages to get out.
And Eddie can't help it when he starts to go weak and limp, sliding down til his head hits Richie's shoulder. He can't stop himself when he's focused so hard on his breathing, feeling like he's just ran a marathon. There are so many things wrong with this that he's going to regret later (and probably tell Stan about), but he can't bring himself to care right now. And Richie, or Richie's no good, either. His heart is beating all too fast, skipping over beats, while his breath hitches and gets stuck in his throat. He isn't in control of his body, nor his mind. He's an outside force watching this scene unfold, watching as his hands slide down to Eddie's shoulders, down his arms, and, eventually, resting around his waist in some sort of nervous, loose hug. When Eddie makes no complaint, Richie pulls him closer, and Eddie returns the hug. A few moments of silence pass, silence keeping breath stuck in throats and hearts stuck against ribs, before Richie speaks. "Feeling better now, Eds?" And he's not really expecting answer, so it shakes him to his very core when Eddie says "Don't call me Eds." And Eddie's breath is hot as it brushes against Richie's collar bone and the feeling of it all sends a shiver up his spine. The last thing Richie expected would be for Eddie to bring himself closer, arms tight around Richie's waist, nose brushing against his neck, hot breath splaying there too, and he thinks that this, this is why the others joke about Eddie being an absolute cuddle-bug (cuddle-bear, if you want to take his mom's side of things.) Because Eddie isn't clingy, and he won't outwardly ask for a hug, but he won't turn one down and, when the instance is offered, he gives the best damn hugs. Richie hadn't even realized he'd been tense, but he can feel every worry, every knot, every thought slip away as he loses himself in the moment, loses himself in the warmth, loses himself in Eddie.
And, from that moment on, Richie becomes Eddie's go-to person when he's panicking. Stan is still great, still his best friend, but Richie seems to have this magical presence that's undeniably calm when need be. And Richie realizes certain... things that he would have never thought to have been a possibility. He fully accepts Eddie's title as a great hugger and takes himself up on touch more often, whether it be a hand hold, an arm slung around a shoulder, leaning against one another or, whenever they were alone, those special hugs that last just a bit too long. It's not long after that, when the hammock incident** happens, that Bev sees them and catches on. What had been Richie's secret that he had planned to bring to the grave became alot more real. Something real, something shared, something undeniably true.
Inspired by the song Bedroom Ceiling by Citizen Soldier
Warning: mental health issues, angst
Ichigo is struggling on his own with cptsd, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, suicidal ideation after TTYBW arc. While, Grimmjow is struggling with understanding his role now, no longer sure where he fits, no longer sure how strong he is, no longer certain of anything. They are both feeling like this song, but then, find each other and help each other find themselves and heal.
The dark streets cast shadows upon a blue haired Arrancar, who walked down the road. He could choose to erase his reiatsu to sneakily reach his destination. Yet, he chose to have his spiritual pressure to be known; he wanted the substitute shinigami to notice. For months they hadn't seen each other, which made him anxious enough to check his clothes for any speck of dirt clinging to him. When he reached his target’s house, the orange haired Shinigami was outside looking dauntless.
“What’re you doing here, Grimmjow?” Ichigo spoke nonchalantly, watching Grimmjow approach. But, Grimmjow didn’t stop at a safe distance; he just kept coming closer. Ichigo took a step backward, back bumping onto the wall, and Grimmjow closed the distance between them. The Arrancar caged Ichigo and locked their lips together, a quick but not less passionate kiss.
Slowly they separated, and for a moment Grimmjow got lost in thoughts, remembering a time when he didn’t understand why he always sought Ichigo, why he obsessed with fighting and winning against him. It started to become obvious their atraction, their need for attention. Then, the another war happened, thoughts of losing Ichigo pained him to his core; imagining they could never be together made him realize he was hopelessly in love.
That was enough reason to steal another kiss, to feel dexterous fingers tangling on his hair and pulling him closer. From now on, they just had to take a leap into faith and let everything run its course.
