This is a tag for Ha'i'ole, the premier of season two. Steve was stabbed - there must have been some repercussions! And why did he go to Max? Here is my take of the episode with some extra Steve whump, as in my world you can't have too much!

Disclaimer:- H50 isn't mine. If only...

Warnings:- Spoiler for the premier of Season 2.

Thanks to my wonderful beta and friend Sherry 57. Thanks hon you did a great job, but of course all mistakes are mine.

TRUST

One minute he was alone, and then he wasn't. Hesse appeared as if out of nowhere.

There was no time to cry for help. No time to figure out who was behind the security breach. Hesse was all over him like a rash. He tried to fend him off, but the bastard had the element of surprise. The biggest was the look in his eyes. They were filled with frustration, intent, but no malice. That stunned him. Put him off his guard long enough for the blade to thrust into his gut.

Steve gasped. Unable to speak as pain and shock vied for attention. He looked at the man who killed his father and waited for Hesse to finish it. Twist the knife around and around, kill him just as he'd threatened. Tear apart his insides until no one could put Humpty Dumpty together again. Instead he paused, looked at him and whispered in his ear. Escape.

Shouts of alarm followed by urgent hands moved him onto a gurney and out of the prison. It wasn't the departure he'd planned, but he'd take it. The short message couldn't be denied. Hesse trusted him. He'd given him perhaps his only chance to clear his name and why? In his pain addled brain Steve could only think of one reason. Wo Fat. Why else would a killer help the man he hated? Hesse knew he was the only one able to topple the king pin's house of cards. The only man who could save his life.

It wasn't hard playing the badly wounded man, because he hurt like hell. Steve wanted to lie there. Savor the air flowing into his lungs, and accept the drugs to dull the pain. The sharp, raw fire in his belly spiked whenever he tried to move, but move he must. Adrenaline fuelled by a need for justice pushed him on, pushed his pain to the side as he made his escape.

Steve hated what he had to do. He only used the force necessary to get away, but it didn't salve his conscience one bit. These men were innocents. The cop had only been trying to do his job. The irony was that after everything - he might not make it.

The wound wasn't fatal, but the blood loss would be if he didn't get help soon. Hospitals weren't an option, at least not unless he wanted to end up back inside. The adrenaline that took him this far was fading fast. Already his limbs were trembling, and the pain was back with a vengeance. Steve tried to focus on the road ahead, but it was wavering in and out. His head was pounding. He was drenched in blood and sweat. Barely conscious Steve knew there wasn't much time until it was game over. He took the only route he could. There was only one man who could help him now, and Steve hoped Max hadn't pulled a late shift.

ooooOoooo

Max peered at the clock and frowned. It was barely five past two in the afternoon. Only ten minutes since he'd last checked, and over an hour since lunch.

It was turning out to be another long day, and the prospect of leaving early grew more appealing with every minute. There was a Star Trek marathon starting on Syfy in less than an hour and with luck, he could be home with ten minutes to spare.

He had all the DVDs. Knew every episode by heart, but there was nothing like watching knowing you were sharing the experience with other fans. Max refused to call himself a Trekkie. To him the term was an abomination. He was a true devotee of everything Gene Roddenberry had produced, and he refused to adopt a name that was subject to ridicule and abuse by others.

His eyes strayed to the door, but no one was coming. It was just him and the second John Doe of the week. He took one more glance at the old man who'd died of natural causes, and covered him with a sheet. Max had put as much detail into his report as he could. He hoped it would help find someone who knew this man. It was clear from the ragged, dirty clothes the guy had been wearing that he'd fallen on hard times. From the state of his liver, drink had also been a contributing factor to his demise. It didn't matter. Every man, woman and child made their mark on the world, and as far as Max was concerned, no one deserved to pass from this life as if they'd never existed.

Max normally enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of the morgue. He'd chosen this profession with care. It suited him. In many ways he was his own boss. His findings were treated with suitable respect due his vast expertise, and he liked working alone – or did.

When McGarrett and Williams first walked into his domain, he'd resented their attitude. He'd met their type before. From kindergarten to University, arrogant, smug boys just like them had tried to undermine him. Belittle his ability because of his size. Their taunts had only served to make him more determined. Max Bergman kowtowed to no one.

Yet they had soon proved him wrong. Steve McGarrett and his team showed him respect. They questioned his findings, not to undermine his ability but to get at the truth. Max wasn't used to being challenged, and at first he hadn't liked it. Then as time went by he realized something. These people didn't treat him like the rest of the PD who came. The other cops listened to his report as if he was a machine, and left barely acknowledging his presence. The Five 0 boss valued his opinion. McGarrett included him in their discussions. Spoke to him like one of his team.

When he'd heard the news about the Governors' death, he'd been saddened. Nevertheless the evidence he'd gained through his association with McGarrett was irrefutable. Steve was innocent, and nothing would convince him otherwise. He missed him. He missed Five 0's noisy, sometimes chaotic presence in his orderly world, and for the first time in a long while the quietness became oppressive. Max turned off his computer, grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

ooooOoooo

He knew something was wrong almost before he parked the car. It was a strange vibe, born out of instinct, and served him well in his line of work. It made him dig deeper for clues that others would never find.

Max recognized the metallic smell in the air at once. Blood. He followed his nose until he saw the first drops. They were scattered on the grass, getting bigger the further he got to his apartment. Then he saw the broken glass.

Max wasn't easily shocked, but he was surprised to see Steve McGarrett slumped unconscious against the wall. His blood was everywhere. The streaks over the floor telling him the man had literally dragged himself the last few yards.

He was worried when McGarrett didn't stir as he felt for a pulse. Max let out the breath he'd been holding when he realized Steve was still alive. The Five 0 boss was in bad shape, and needed a hospital. Max didn't have the facilities, but McGarrett had come here because he trusted him. He wasn't going to let him down.

As he tended to his wounds Max gave a wry smile. He'd always wanted to be Kirk, but Bones would do just as well. After all, even a hero needed to be saved now and then…

ooooOoooo

His side still hurt but it was more of an ache, not the raw searing pain of before. Steve could feel a pillow beneath his head and for a moment his heart sank, until he felt the leather beneath his fingertips.

A couch then, Max's couch, not the hospital bed he feared. He dragged his eyes open and saw the coroner watching him with concern. It had been a risk, but Steve knew he'd made the right call coming to Max for help. His wound had been dressed with care. He was clean and dry. The pain was manageable, and combined with the relief, Steve felt better.

Trust could be a double-edged sword. It was the embodiment of faith and hope. An expectation, a confidence that the person you entrusted would do the right thing. To the recipient if could be both a responsibility and a liability. Trust could strengthen relationships, but if it failed, if it was broken, the result could be catastrophic and come back to bite you on the ass. Steve looked at Max saw the relief on his face, and knew this time he'd got it right. Today he'd turned an acquaintance into a friend.

Things moved swiftly after that. When Danny and Chin appeared, Max came to the rescue again with the offer of his car. People never ceased to surprise him. The quiet, serious coroner was more animated than he'd ever seen him. The guy visibly pleased to be able to help. Steve owed him. And he'd never forget it.

ooooOoooo

Danny leaned back on his chair, pinched the bridge of his nose, and stared aimlessly out the window. It was dark out, but the reflection of the moon was bathing the city with an eerie, almost weird light. It looked surreal, just like the day he'd had.

One minute Steve was banged up, his partner on the fast track to a life behind bars. He hadn't thought things could get any worse, when the call came he'd been attacked. Fear at the prospect of losing his friend, turned to surprise when they'd spoken to Hesse. Who would have suspected that bastard would be fighting Steve's corner? Not him. Now it was all over, including Hesse's life.

Steve had been vindicated. Five 0 was back in business. The only fly in the ointment was that Kono was still under investigation. It had been a freaking rollercoaster of a day, but Danny couldn't get off the ride. His mind was in turmoil. Had been ever since Rachel gave him the news. He felt lost, and didn't know what the hell he was going to do.

The others had gone home hours ago, but Danny didn't have a home anymore. There was just a tacky rented apartment with a solitary bed, but no one to share it with. It had never been much but just when he'd grown used to it, he thought his dreams were finally coming true. Rachel still loved him. They were expecting a child. He was going to be a father again, have the family he loved back in his life. Instead his life was in ruins. The dream shattered into a million pieces when she'd told him the child wasn't his. Worse still, she wanted to give her marriage one more try.

The unfinished bottle of beer lay on the desk. Danny contemplated taking a swig, but even that small decision seemed too much. His head was pounding, and just as Danny reached into the drawer for some Tylenol, the phone rang.

"Detective Williams?"

The clipped concise voice with a trace of an accent told him immediately who it was.

"Hi, Max…and call me Danny. By the way, I never had a chance to thank you for helping Steve today."

"I was…happy to be of help. How is Commander McGarrett…Steve?"

Danny was taken aback. His friend had looked tired when he'd left. Pale. He'd meant to check up on him, but had been so obsessed with his problems he'd forgotten.

"Hello…Danny…are you still there?"

"Huh…sorry, Max, it's been kind of a long day. No…I haven't called him yet, but I will."

"Good…Please tell him I have asked after his welfare." Max hesitated before he continued. "What ward is he in? I would like to visit if I may."

"Wha… Why would he be in hospital?" Danny sat up straighter in his chair, suddenly alert. "Steve said you patched him up just fine…he went straight home."

Danny heard a sharp intake on breath on the other side of the phone. When Max spoke again he sounded worried. "I did my best to repair the damage, but I did not have the proper facilities at my disposal. McGarrett…Steve lost a lot of blood. There was also a risk of infection. I told him he must take it easy. Visit the hospital as soon as possible. This…this is not good, Danny."

Danny remembered Steve jumping onto the moving boat, and raked a hand through his hair. He was surprised to find it shaking. "Damn it to hell! Why just for once won't that pig-headed moron do what he's told?"

"I am sorry…I should have called sooner. I feel perhaps in some way this is my fault…"

Max sounded so forlorn, Danny felt his own guilt increase. He knew what Steven was like. Max didn't. This was typical of the ex-SEAL, but he should have expected it. He should have been watching out for him. That was his job, but he'd had his head so far up his ass, Danny hadn't taken in what was in front of him. Steve had been more than pale, he'd barely had a trace of color in his face. He'd also been favoring his side when he'd walked out.

"Max…listen to me, buddy, none of this is your fault. Hell, if it wasn't for you Steve would be dead. Now, as soon as I get off the phone I'm going to take a trip over to his place. And don't worry. I'll drag him to the hospital - kicking and screaming if I have to."

Max let out a long sigh. "Thank you…I would be grateful if you would call me. Let me know if he is alright."

"Sure…and thanks. I'm glad you called."

No sooner than Max hung up, he called Steve. It went straight to voice mail. Danny didn't waste any more time. He rushed out the building calling 911 as he went.

ooooOoooo

Someone was shouting, banging on the door but Steve couldn't move.

The dull ache was now a sharp fierce pain. It was tortuous, leaving him struggling to breathe as the raging fire rippled through his body. He was shivering, so cold, but was drenched in sweat. His mouth was parched. When Danny burst into the room he wanted to ask for a drink, but the words wouldn't come.

"Hang on, partner…help's coming."

There was fear in Danny's eyes, as they darted from him to the hallway beyond. "He's in here!"

The last thing Steve heard was booted feet running towards them. He zoned out after that. His world becoming a mass of light, sound, pain and then nothing…

"I trusted you, McGarrett…but you never could get anything right."

Hesse's mocking, belligerent voice came to him through the fog, and Steve woke up with a start. He groaned.

"Easy…Try not to move, Commander, you've been a very sick man."

The attractive dark haired woman introduced herself while she straightened his sheets. "My name's Doctor Anderson." She sat down and looked him in the eye. "I'll be straight with you, Mr McGarrett, when you were first brought in I was worried you weren't going to make it. There was internal bleeding where you'd pulled apart Dr Bergman's sutures, and a serious infection had set in the wound. It took quite a while to get it under control. However your fever's finally spiked, so hopefully you're now on the mend on."

"Thanks…" Steve croaked. He was surprised at how weak he sounded.

"Here. You must be thirsty."

He sipped the water as if it were manna from Heaven. It tasted wonderful.

"There are people anxious to see you, but I'm only going to one visitor this time. You need your rest."

Steve didn't argue. He already felt sleep pulling him under, and he'd only barely woken up. When Danny appeared he was shocked. He knew about Rachel. Knew it had hit him hard, but his partner really looked like crap.

"Don't…and I repeat… don't ever do that again."

Steve looked at him confused.

"And there's the look." Danny sat back on the chair folded his arms, and glared at him. "You really don't get it do you?" He persisted. "Just once maybe you could follow instructions…"

He scrubbed a shaking hand over his face."Excuse the sick man here, but my brain's a bit fuzzy. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Max…remember him? The nice guy who patched you up, saved your life. And… oh, yeah - told you to get checked out in the hospital!"

Steve grimaced. In all the chaos of the day he'd forgotten.

"Steve…Steven! Man I'm sorry…I shouldn't have gone off at you like that, but when I found you lying in your apartment. I thought…I thought you were going to die. Will I get the doctor?"

"No…I'm good."

Steve locked eyes with his friend. He felt like a shit for causing him to worry. Danny was right. If he'd done what Max had told him to do, none of this would have happened. "You're right…I'm a moron. I'm sorry."

Danny smiled. "Yes you are…but I'm glad to have you back, partner. Rest up, you have a department to run…remember?"

"Yeah…I do, don't I." Steve returned the smile.

There was a noise at the door, and both men saw the doctor standing there making a point of looking at her watch.

Danny got to his feet. "Okay…I'm going now, but I'll see you later. And I'm bringing a visitor." At Steve's puzzled look Danny explained. "Max. Our coroner friend has a vested interest in you now. Somehow I think we've just gained a new member to our team."

Too tired to speak any longer Steve just nodded. He closed his eyes but when he opened them again Danny was gone. The room was in near darkness and in the gloom he went over everything that had happened.

Chin had found the evidence but it was his father who had saved him. Now it was his turn to save his father's reputation in the light of the damning film. Still, things were rarely what they appeared. Max was the perfect example. When they'd first met he'd seemed odd, terse, but out of nowhere Steve found himself going to him for help. Max had saved his life, and if he wanted to be part of the team that was just fine by him.

Steve felt like crap, but he accepted that was partly his fault. Fact was he'd got lucky. Now it was time to heal, get his act together, and get back to work. The first order of business - make Wo Fat pay…

THE END

Well I hope you enjoyed my version, and please review. I love to know what you think!