I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: I thought I'd be done for awhile with work being so busy and so much to do ... the breakfast bunny evidently had other ideas and tales to spin. The plot is quite loose and medically speaking, probably there are a ton of holes too. I researched nothing and just let the bunny do as it wanted ... I hope you enjoy it regardless! My thanks to JazzieG for the fun banter on this merry journey!

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

Sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, Danny eyed Steve mistrustfully from the floor. Near the door, with his back against the wall, he would stay where he was for the foreseeable future. It was much safer that way.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He asked. It was hard to enunciate his words clearly and Steve frowned at him. Being walloped not once, but twice in the jaw within the last few hours had done a number on his mouth though. Talking was difficult. Danny swallowed and made a face at the tannic taste. This time he'd bitten his tongue to go along with his swollen lip. There wouldn't be a next time; next time, he'd duck or find some other way to manage his amnesiac, I can kill anyone with a No.2 pencil, ex-SEAL of a partner.

"You okay?" Steve asked from where he sat perched on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah." No. NO he wasn't ... but Danny shrugged as he kept a cautious eye on his friend. He wasn't going to let on to Steve just how badly his head was beginning to throb until Steve got more with the program. That could take anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours.

"You sure?" Steve pressed.

"Sure. Fine," Danny replied. "Just peachy. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I hit you ..." Steve said carefully. "Why ... I mean, I thought ... for a minute ..." His voice trailed off. He scrubbed a hand hard through his head and winced when his fingers connected with the three staples just above his ear. He paused in surprise then, gently tracing the metal and testing the sore area. "Owe ... what the hell happened? I have ... stitches? Why am I ... here?"

"Staples," Danny corrected him blandly. Again. "Three. Healing nicely, too. No lasting damage. What's the last thing you can remember?" This part was like Groundhog Day every damned time, too. Danny rolled his eyes plaintively towards the ceiling, unable to stop himself from helplessly shaking his head because this whole damned situation had gotten old really fast. But he was beginning to doubt the lasting damage part as he watched his partner's frown deepen even more.

"I hit you," Steve stated stubbornly and Danny sighed, the sound audible between them. "Why?"

Yes, Steve had hit him. No, he wouldn't remember why - at least for a few minutes and then, not the whole story. Yes, it hurt and yes ... it was stupid of Danny to even have Steve in his house in the first place. But Steve had insisted upon leaving the hospital 72 hours earlier and with no real medical recourse but to allow the man to leave if he so desired, someone had to keep an eye on him. Two doctors had stared meaningfully Danny's way and he'd taken the not-so-subtle hint to keep an eye on their patient. But there had to be a better way than getting slammed in the face with a boulder-sized fist every time Steve half-roused from a sleepy nightmare.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Danny repeated.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" Steve muttered before tossing his free hand in the air. The other was still investigating the outline of the staples and the small patch of missing hair. "I dunno. Swimming? I went for a swim this morning."

"You swim every day you Neanderthal putz," Danny snarked back, his tongue so uncooperative over the last word it sounded as if he had a bad lisp. He dabbed at his sore lip, scowling when his knuckles showed red. "How about this ... what did you eat last?"

Steve started at him blankly for so long, that Danny thought he might not ever get an answer. "Steve? Food?" Danny prompted. "What did you eat last?"

"Ah?" Steve blinked rapidly. Evidently he didn't know and Danny heaved in another aggrieved sigh, one that certainly didn't sound quite so patient anymore. The right answer would have been pizza, something they'd shared in the kitchen with Charlie just a few hours earlier. But he'd been here at least four times in the past and no matter what the doctors had promised, his partner's memory didn't seem to be returning to normal. In fact, based on the colorful array of pretty bruises blossoming so nicely along his jawline, Danny was under the impression that things were actually getting worse.

"Day of the week?" Danny tried. "How about the case ... what did we do last with McNamara?"

"Who? What case?" Steve asked. He blinked again and then scowled, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Tuesday. My last day of leave."

Danny's mouth gaped wide open at this pronouncement and he shook his head to the contrary, not knowing what to say. Leave? Where the hell was Steve's head this time?

"It's not Tuesday?" Steve stated sarcastically, misreading Danny's expression entirely. "You're going to say that next, right?"

"No, it's not Tuesday," Danny said more softly than he wanted, but he was duly stunned and not necessarily about the slip of the day. What ... leave? Steve had at least always remembered their very last case before the attack which had left him so badly rattled inside his own home. A home that would need to be tidied up from top to bottom once the two of them had the time. With Lou Grover taking the lead, the team was still looking for the perps in fact; and for that very reason, Danny had opted to bring Steve home to his house in the interim. But juggling Charlie, Grace and his confused partner was fast becoming far too complex.

Danny rubbed both hands over his face feeling every bit as exhausted as when he'd found his partner covered in blood out on his own lanai. A ransacked house could be fixed, but concussed and amnesiac would take time and quite possibly better skills than Danny had at his own personal disposal. Especially if Steve was now throwing them a new curve ball. Despite doctors' predictions and faith that familiar surroundings would do their patient good in reviving his short term memory, things were definitely getting worse. Not better. He would need to call the hospital if this continued and Danny stopped his mental wanderings right there because this was a major blip and he did need to call Steve's doctor to at least discuss it.

"You know what ...," Danny said as he struggled to his feet. He was worried and would make that phone call, but he was sure things would be all right. Though it hadn't quite been this severe before, they'd been down a similar path and Steve had come back to himself fairly quickly. That black hole about what might have happened at his house would likely still exist, but the current episode would pass and they'd pick up again with the usual retinue of confused questions and answers. Fully believing that would happen even if he did call the doctor for advice, Danny didn't see the dark look which briefly clouded Steve's eyes as he too stood up.

"Never mind. You slept pretty damned long for the most part so why don't you just shower. I'll make you something to eat. Check on Char..."

He intended to walk by Steve at that point. Go down the hall, make sure Charlie was still riding his bike in the breezeway and then call the hospital while Steve showered. He got as far as trying to express that when Steve's fist connected with the side of his jaw. Light exploded and his world went dark almost simultaneously. Danny never knew when his knees buckled and his head hit the floor with a resounding smack.

~ to be continued ~