Disclaimer: Do not own Hawaii Five-0. No copyright infringement intended.

Authors Note: This was originally supposed to be a one-shot Christmas present for Irene Claire. So thanks goes out to her for her patience in my ability to get this done ... by April! And thanks to Wenwalke and praemonitus praemunitus for the second time round beta and everyone who betaed this the first time round. So, this story is complete but … ***stop rolling your eyes at me Wenwalke*** … I played with it again after it was betaed, so all mistakes remain my own. Yeah, I know, such a rookie.

Kaua – You and I.

As ever … Enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Grace, stay back."

It had taken his daughter over an hour to pick out their Christmas tree, a tradition Danny had been unwilling to give up, even in Hawaii. His split second of inattention though, a brief glance away from the running chainsaw and the release of his grip, were all actions that would cost him dearly. Because, as Newton's third law of motion explains: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

The backward arc of the bar—a kickback—wrenched open Danny's fingers, disengaging the throttle and the trigger. Before he could get out of the way, the chisel chain raked through his jeans and down his quad, making him fall backwards.

"DANNO!"

The abandoned Stihl lay idling between them, the cutter teeth dragging along the bar. It wasn't until Danny began to curl into ball that he saw Grace tear her gaze away from the bloodied chain and dive to the ground, crawling on hands and knees to reach the saw. He watched as her fingers fumbled to kill the engine. Finally, with the flick of a switch, the rumble subsided, but then she froze again, seemingly unable to move the last few inches to his side.

"Grace …"

He spoke her name as nothing more than a whisper, forcing his eyes to remain open. The injury was bad. He didn't need to look at it to know that. Had he the energy, he would've smacked himself for taking his attention off the saw. His Dad had drilled user safety into his noggin ad nauseam, but the instinct to keep his daughter back was intrinsic. Protecting her would always come first … always.

"Grace … come here …"

He curled his fingers towards him to encourage her, until his breath hitched when more pain raced into his foot then rebounded up into his hip. His eyes closed unintentionally.

"Danno?

He blinked. Time had slipped. His daughter's nose was a scant fingerbreadth from his own now. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and onto his face.

"Hey … don't. I'm okay, Monkey." Even to his own ears, his voice sounded weak.

"No, Danno, you're bleeding. I don't know how to stop it. I can't …"

She'd pulled back a bit, her face blanching when she glanced at his leg. Danny knew she was at a loss at what to do next, how to help him. His thigh felt as if it were on fire, the tendrils of flame licking at his nerve endings. But Grace's eyes were consumed with fear, her pupils blown wide and her lips trembling. God, he hated that he was scaring her.

"Alright. Help me … help me sit up. I … I need to look at it." He managed to couch his clipped sentences in as much encouragement as he could muster.

The sudden change in position, no matter how careful both of them had been, pulled at his quad. Deep, ragged breaths filled his lungs, chasing away the black smudges within his vision. He still felt as if he was looking through a narrowing tunnel though, his jeans brushed in russet and crimson. And then he realized that the colors were accurate. That there was a river of red pooling under his leg before soaking slowly into the ground.

"Okay, Monkey. Help me … help me get my belt off. It'll slow down the bleeding."

Neither of them had clean clothing they could press against the wound. His shirt was littered with wood chips and debris from his tumble. Grace's t-shirt fared no better. His belt, for the time being, was the only option. Careful not to tug too hard, so as not to move his lower body, they threaded Danny's belt through the loops of his jeans.

"Help me wrap this around my leg, just above the gash. Can you do that?"

Grace quickly nodded.

Danny kept up his reassurances while guiding her through what he needed. It took both of them to secure the tourniquet, their bloodied hands slipping off the leather. By the time they'd finished, his daughter's pallor had bleached out, her hands shaking. He knew she was struggling to keep her panic in check, no matter how brave she wanted to be.

"I'm sorry, Danno," she mumbled. Her eyes were averted, tears once again tumbling down her cheeks.

"Hey, no. None of that. You did great." Danny's hand reached out to cup Grace's chin, lifting gently and running a thumb along her jaw as their eyes met. He smiled, hiding the ache that swelled within his chest. As loath as he was to put her in this position, he still needed her help. Without it, they weren't likely to get a hold of medical assistance soon enough.

"Grace, can you make it back to Uncle Steve's truck?" He fished the keys out of his front pants pocket and handed them over. They'd borrowed his partner's rig so they could toss the tree in the bed instead of strapping it to the top of the Camaro.

"Yeah, Danno, I remember where it is."

"That's my girl." Danny blew out a breath. He needed a compression bandage before he could make the effort to move back to the Silverado. "There's a first aid duffle behind the back seat. Uncle Steve's always prepared, right? Grab it and my cell." He placed his palm on her thigh and squeezed, his pained smile widening. He'd do anything to wipe the terrified expression off of her face. The mention of her favorite `Anakala might make her fear less potent, even if it was just for a minute.

She hesitated though.

"I shouldn't leave you."

"I promise I won't go anywhere, Monkey." Danny pantomimed cross my heart, but still his daughter faltered. "Tell you what. Give me a hug. That'll keep me going until you get back."

Grace dove into his open arms, her grasp tightening around his shoulders as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know, baby. I know you are. It's okay." Danny stroked his daughter's hair, smoothing the tangled strands away from her face, allowing her time to digest that it was okay to be frightened, that she wasn't alone. "But you and I. We've got this. And I've got everything I need right here." He tapped her shoulder, pulling her in tighter while he dragged from the depths of his soul a love that only a father could tap into. "No one I trust more than you. No one."

When his body betrayed him with a shudder, Grace untangled herself. She pecked him on the cheek and then framed his face between both of her palms, her gaze holding his. He saw lines of determination crease her forehead.

"I'll be right back. Remember, you promised, Danno."

"Right here, Monkey. I'm all set right here."

Danny waited until she left before he turned his full attention back to his leg. The bleeding had slowed, but the thrum of pain had become a pounding sledgehammer. As he peeled back his torn jeans, his stomach revolting at the sight of the ragged wound. His hands shook, fingers barely following directions, because no matter how cautious he was, any shift or tug along the torn edges of flesh traveled up through his leg and into his pelvis.

"Fuck!"

He leaned back onto his elbows before he fully hit the ground. He'd managed to pull back a quarter of the fabric stuck to his flesh. Aware that his next move only indicated his misery, he threw one arm over his eyes and breathed deeply, not really caring.

"Alright, Williams, get up. You've no time for a pity party. Grace will be back soon."

"Great, bleeding like a stuck pig and hearing voices. Just, perfect. Thank you, Steven. I'm blaming you, even if you're not here."

Forced to gather his reserves, he sat up to work on the middle section of the wound. He'd managed to fillet his quad from just below his hip to barely above the knee, diagonally.

"Fuck, what is that?" Danny released a breath he was unaware he'd been holding. Sweat dripped off the tip of his nose and down the sides of his temples. No idea what he was looking at, and thinking it best if he not know, he closed his eyes.

"Almost done. Come on Danno, you're almost done. Keep going."

"God, shut up, Steven." He shook his head, running a clammy forearm across his brow as he ground his teeth. His vision wavered. "Come on, come on. If I'm forced to listen to you in my head, at least help me out here. Just a couple more seconds."

Afraid he was losing the battle, Danny carefully pulled the remaining strands of cloth free. His final effort though, slammed his back onto the ground as the denim slipped from his bloody fingers. He groaned as his vision grayed, shock creeping up on him until the pain sank denticulate teeth in and tore him apart. He tried to fight back then. Fight back because of Grace.

Time slipped again.

"Danno?"

"Yeah, still here, babe." Even to his own ears his voice sounded weak.

"I got the duffle and cell. But there's not a signal on your phone. I already checked."

Grace intertwined her fingers with his.

"Fuck." He must look terrible.

Danny sighed. He hadn't thought there would be enough reception, but it was worth a try.

"It's okay, Grace. The cell was a long shot." He squeezed her hand. "Help me up. Let's see what hospital Uncle Steve pillaged and plundered."

They were able to rummage through the supplies, setting aside what they needed.

"You ready?" Danny smiled, throwing everything he had into bolstering his daughter. He wanted Grace to trust in herself as much as he did. "When I press the edges of the wound together I'll need you to put the dressing in place. You think you can handle that?"

She barely hesitated before nodding.

"Once the dressing's in place we'll secure it and add pressure with the bandage."

She nodded again.

The placement of the dressing and bandage on his leg almost caused Danny to lose the plot. Just touching the damn thing pushed his pain through the roof, every muscle clenching until he remembered that he needed to breathe.

"Hang in there, Danno. Don't scare Gracie by fainting, buddy."

This time, Danny snorted.

"Williams' men don't faint," he argued.

He latched onto his partner's voice as if it were a lifeline. Didn't matter if he was delusional. If his mental state could ward off unconsciousness for just a bit longer, he'd take it.

"Danno, will this help?" Grace held out a bottle. The label was some mashed together display of colors, but recognizable.

He dry swallowed 800mg ibuprofen, holding back another snort as he did it. Taking a non-opioid analgesic was like putting your finger in a leak when the waters were already breaching the dam. What he needed was morphine, but the SEAL obviously hadn't raided that particular pharmacy, so a finger poke would have to do.

"Thanks, Monkey." He blew out another breath, steadying himself for the next round of torture. "Help me up and back to the truck, okay?"

Normally, Danny viewed silence as something to be filled. Unless of course the silence was Steve accepting a verbal lashing ... from him. Silence from Grace, in these circumstances, was not so great. So he couched his pain the only way he knew how, by telling his daughter stories of her crazy Uncle, if only to get her to laugh with him. Her chuckles were eventually overwhelmed by his grunts though, his daughter's wiry limbs unable to compete with his own monolithic ones. After a while, he began to wonder if his tendency towards the absurd was due to shock, or his new-found appreciation for the laws of physics. Because the laws of physics were a bitch and they'd outdone themselves this time.

~to be continued~