Steve sat lazily in the chair, his long legs stretched out before him. He'd been at the hospital all night, and though he'd tried to sleep, he hadn't been able to. He looked over at the bed as he yawned, then closed his eyes against the reason for his lack of sleep.
Danny lay unconscious in that bed, and he'd been there for roughly ten hours. There was no movement, no sign of him waking up, and no chance of Steve being able to shake the memory of what caused it...
Steve and his team had finally closed in on a jewel thief they'd been after for weeks. The man had gotten sloppy, and on his most recent heist, he'd taken a hostage. After several hours of negotiating, Steve had finally gotten the thief to agree to come out of the building, but only after Steve promised that the cops wouldn't fire their weapons. To ensure that the cops stuck to their end of the bargain, the thief had come out with the hostage in front of him, a gun pressed against her temple.
Danny, following Steve's instructions, had taken a rifle to a nearby sniper's perch, where he had the best chance of shooting the thief without harming the hostage, should the thief try anything stupid.
As the thief exited the building, Steve called to him through the bullhorn to drop his weapon. Instead of complying, however, the thief removed his gun from the girl's temple and aimed it at Steve.
In the split second before the thief pulled his trigger, Danny pulled his own. And even though he'd checked his weapon not five minutes before, something went wrong. The rifle backfired, sending Danny tumbling backwards and hitting his head on the concrete wall behind him.
Chin Ho quickly pulled out his revolver, aimed, and fired, shooting the thief in the arm. Steve left the thief and the hostage in the care of the other cops, and raced to Danny's perch.
Steve found his second-in-command lying unconscious, but from all other outward appearances, he seemed unharmed. Steve checked for a pulse and found one, but no amount of talking to Danny or gently slapping his face roused the sandy-haired cop.
And so here Steve sat, in an uncomfortable hospital chair, trying not to focus on his friend lying in a hospital bed, but unable to think about anything else.
Steve leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Though he really didn't want to, he forced himself to look at Danny's expressionless face.
After a few moments, he whispered, "Danno, you know full well that I generally don't let my emotions get the better of me, but I'm begging you to wake up. I need you, bruddah; please wake up."
Steve reached out and gently squeezed Danny's hand. Just before he pulled away, he thought he felt some return pressure. But Steve shook his head and told himself that he was imagining things.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Moments later, Steve thought he heard someone call his name, so he opened his eyes and looked toward the door. No one was there.
You're losing it, McGarrett, Steve though. You've spent too much time in this room, and now you're going crazy.
He started to close his eyes again, then heard it a second time; it was barely audible, but Steve distinctly heard his name coming from somewhere.
His eyes swept the room, looking for the source, then they fell on the body laying in the bed. Ever so slightly, Danny was turning his head from side to side, struggling to open his eyes, and calling out for Steve.
A smile briefly crossed Steve's face as he reached out for Danny's hand again. "Danno…I'm right here. Everything's going to be all right. I'm right beside you."
Danny's eyes opened, and as Steve watched them slowly focus on him, he realized that just as he was "right beside" Danny, in simply waking up again, Danny was returning to where he belonged - right beside Steve. And as long as they both stayed there, Steve knew everything really be all right.