"Find the keys," Danny says with the most trepidation I've ever heard come out of his mouth. He simply throws his hands in the air and turns his back on me. He is visibly shaken to the core and I can't quite put my finger on what is so different about this situation than any of the other life or death scenarios we have found ourselves in over the past seven years. But something has him spooked and I'm no closer to figuring out what that is than when I dropped him off at his house after he accused me of snooping into his private life. His list was out in the open, I wasn't snooping.

I wonder how many more times Danny will follow me blindly into dangerous situations. How many more times will he have my back? My stomach twists into knots at the thought of him staring me in the eye one day and simply replying, "No. No more. I'm done." And really meaning it this time.

He is in one of the prickliest moods I have ever seen him in and I briefly wonder if something happened between him and Melissa. Or with Rachel or the kids. He has barely mentioned Melissa's name over the course of the last couple of weeks. Now that I think about it, his whole demeanor has been off since our couple's retreat with Melissa and Lynn. Leave it to Danny to spend a whole day antagonizing a teenager over a pair of twenty dollar sunglasses instead of spending the time with his beautiful girlfriend.

But what I've learned about Danny over the years is that behavior such as that always has a deeper rooted cause. His way of dealing with something is through diversion until he can clearly wrap his head around the situation. Focus on a smaller problem, the missing sunglasses in this case, and resolve it before tackling the real thorn in the heel. I'm just going to have to wait him out until he is ready to talk to me. And he will, but it will be on his terms and only when he is ready.

I think back to what I just told him before he resigned himself to follow me yet again. "We're gonna drive real slow." Which I'm keenly aware, does nothing to calm his increasingly frazzled looks lost and terrified at the same time, but it's the only logical thing I could force past my lips. I knew we were in deep shit if we didn't get a move on and there was no way we could outrun the blast given less than an hour on the timer. We were going to have to drive the rickety old truck to the clearing to hopefully get a cell signal and call for reinforcements.

Ultimately it's Danny that finds the missing keys, on the dead guy that ignited the timer for the dirty bomb. I've never seen him like this, so frazzled. His voice is quivering with every spoken word. He seems so hopeless, so unassured. Not since I ordered him to jump from the roof of a building when we were protecting Gabriel Waincroft has he been this out of sorts. And even then, he wasn't this bad. He was more pissed off and angry at the situation we found ourselves in. But this time, this time something is different.

He's scared.

I can't help but feel like this time, it really is my fault. I could have taken Chin or Grover, hell even Kono would have jumped at the chance, but instead, I dragged Danny along. Not because he's my partner, but because I knew regardless, he had my back. Not that the others wouldn't. But with Danny… I just knew. And if things went south like they could at the drop of hat, it's Danny that I want by my side. That sounds like all kinds of wrong and completely and utterly selfish, but I can't help it. If I'm going to die beside someone, I want to take my final breath in his presence.

I'm about to start the old truck and think for a fleeting moment that this could be it. This could be our final moment together and I instantly hate myself. Because if we die, two kids lose the best man I know as their father. I take a deep breath and try and say something only to be cut off by that quivering voice coming from beside me. But if we die, he has to know… he has to know how I really feel about him. Up until about two minutes ago, Danny was my partner, my friend, my brother…

But the moment he replied, "Find the keys…" something in my heart clicked into place and I knew I loved him differently. So I tell him. And as I squeeze my eyes shut and turn the key, I see him shaking his head like he doesn't know what to do with this new information. He doesn't have to do anything with it, but at least now he knows. I've told him I've loved him before, but it always came out smothered in brotherly love. This time it came out raw and real.

We make it to the clearing, get the Uranium canister removed from the bomb, shimmy the bomb off the truck and hi-tail it out of there. But there's not enough time and if Danny hated me before for snooping, he's going to hate me even more for what I'm about to do. I flip the truck so we can hunker in behind the engine block to shelter ourselves from the impending blast. He's rightly pissed off. And all I can think about is him retiring and leaving me behind. The words roll off my tongue probably faster than he can decipher what I'm saying but if retirement is going to keep us separated, maybe a restaurant named "Steve's" will keep us tied together.

The bomb explodes before he can respond and sends us both hurtling forward, ears ringing, ground rumbling. I pull myself into an upright position and let out a huge sigh of relief. We are both alive and breathing.

Where the cavalry comes from is beyond me. I haven't taken my eyes off Danny still twisting his index finger into his ears to get them to stop ringing. Paramedics divide the two of us and give us the once over to make sure we are still intact. Once they're satisfied I'm okay, they release me. Somebody's going to have to give us a ride back and I can almost guarantee that Danny won't be flying. He's walking towards me on wobbly legs when he suddenly stops, dropping his head forward. He places his hands on his knee caps, his legs shaking so hard they look like they are about to buckle. I know what's coming and I'm helpless to stop it. Danny is throwing up, a result form the flipping of the truck mixed with the explosion stirred together with a healthy dose of anxiety.

When there's nothing left, he swipes his arm across his mouth. He straightens himself, regains as much composure as he can muster and continues walking towards me.

"You okay?" I ask, already knowing the answer. I reach for his elbow just to be connected to him.

"Don't ever do that to me again," he responds through clenched teeth and tugs himself loose.

I'm not sure if he means flipping the truck or telling him that I love him. Before I can find out, he's bent over at the waist, dry-heaving. The paramedics surround him and manage to get him to sit on the ground. They are shinning a flashlight in his eyes, clearly not happy with the way he is responding and before either of us knows it, they have him strapped to a backboard and are loading him into the medivac. I hop in and buckle up before they can tell me no. I got him into this mess, I was going to see him through it to the end.

After an hour and a half of waiting, a doctor finally came out and told me what was going on. It was no surprise with the flipping of the truck and the explosion, Danny had suffered a concussion. I breathed a sigh of relief. He was going to be okay. A nurse ushers me to his room and I slip in, not wanting to disturb him if he's sleeping. I thank her and pull the hard plastic chair up to his bed and take a seat. Exhaustion overtakes me as I reach for Danny's hand.

"I'm sorry," is all I can manage before I break down.

"Hey," Danny mumbles and opens his eyes a tiny bit. He squeezes them shut against the bright light and I get up and dim the lights in the room. "Thanks," he says his voice raspy.

"How're you feeling?" I ask, keenly aware he hasn't pulled his hand out of my grasp.

"My head is killing me," he says as he scrubs his forehead with his free hand. "And everything is spinning." He closes his eyes again and concentrates on his breathing. My ears are still ringing so I'm sure his are as well.

"I meant what I said, Danny." I squeeze his hand gently to let him know. He nods, letting me know he heard me but doesn't say anything else. It's quiet for several moments before Danny opens his mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about the retirement thing. It was just something I needed to think through myself first." I nod my head. This was how Danny worked and I knew that.

"Something else is going on, Danny. What is it? You can talk to me, Buddy."

Danny rolls to his side and twists his fingers around mine until they are laced together. "Two weeks ago I was going to ask Melissa to marry me."

"Say what?" My head snapped up at his revelation. "What changed?"

"When I went after that kid looking for my sunglasses," Danny paused and stared at our clasped hands. "She didn't come looking for me…" His blue eyes moved from our hands and locked onto my eyes. They bored into me and I couldn't look away if I wanted to. "You did. You're the one that came looking for me, not her. To make sure I was okay or sane or losing my marbles. Whatever it was, I don't know… for whatever reason with you around, I couldn't be around her." Danny blinked and swiped away a tear before it could fall. "I realized you'd follow me anywhere, even if you're bitching and moaning the whole way. Just like I'd follow you." Danny squeezed my hand and I understood. "It scared me. Because one day, we're going to end up following each other to the grave. I realized in that moment, that I loved you. And I didn't know what to do with those feelings."

"Danny," I begin but he cuts me off by holding up his hand.

"No, please let me finish. I realized that I loved you and here we were again, practically knocking on death's door looking for our dirty bomb maker and I kept thinking to myself, 'We're going to die and he'll never know'."

"I know now, Buddy." I squeezed his hand and moved up onto the edge of the bed. Danny clenched his eyes shut, the dipping of the mattress upsetting his equilibrium.

"Promise me… promise we'll just take it slow."

I smile at him and lean forward, ghosting my lips against his. "By slow… you mean fast, right?"

"Not until the room stops spinning," he lets loose one of his nervous chuckles and I capture his lips again.

"Slow it is."