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

Notes: thanks for the continued well wishes - yesterday was darn rough. Today is a bit better though and I will try to thank each of you personally, too. :-) So, since I feel a tad better after sleeping for about fourteen hours (No, not kidding) - I am celebrating with Danny's POV. Special thanks to JazzieG who continues to make sure my medicated head is on straight and sticking to the plot!

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CHAPTER FOUR

Thinking that the Yakuza had taken over the vessel, Danny was shocked when Marty physically hauled him back above deck. He blinked into the harsh sunshine at Troy Sawyer - of all people. He wondered exactly what he had missed .. and when. Trying to keep the confusion from his voice, Danny swallowed hard against his rising nausea. The pain in his leg was severe and he'd lost a lot of blood despite the tourniquet he'd fashioned from a torn towel.

"This wasn't the shin-dig I expected, Troy. You're the mole for the Yakuza and this arms deal? Never would have guessed .. never would have guessed you had it in you."

He was angry and that had made him sarcastic. Two Williams' traits that he could rarely rein in at the best of times; then Troy had reacted in a startling fashion. The solid hit that Troy leveled across his face rocked him backwards. He felt the sting and then the hot blood immediately as he gasped at the pained suddenness of the blow. Bleary-eyed, he was thankful for the hands that were holding him up as his vision blackened severely.

"Troy." He meant it as a question, but the name came out on a puff of air lost when he felt himself rising into the air. He didn't have time to try and escape Marty's severe grip. The deck of the yacht, too many faces and the blue of the sky spun dizzyingly together in a kaleidoscope of colors. He felt himself lifted and then tossed as if nothing into the air where he seemed to hang for one long frightening second of time.

In one startling movement, Danny felt himself lifted off the solid deck of the Mariah. He hung in mid-air briefly only recognizing the rush of blue sky overhead.

Then he was falling.

"No - stop!" Steve's shout faded in a flurry of white noise created by the boats engines, the rough wake from the Mariah, and Danny's own loud senseless gasp.

He inhaled his last breath of air much too late as his suddenly freed arms windmilled wildly in the air and he hit the water on his side going under heavily from the twelve foot drop. It felt as if he'd hit a concrete sidewalk as the tiny bit of air he had in his lungs was forcibly lost. Whatever Steve shouted after his name was gone in a rise of hissing bubbles and the sound of the yacht's dual propellers that he belatedly realized he needed to swim away from except he didn't know which way that might be.

Tossed about endlessly and for what seemed like an eternity, his vision was dimming by the time the worst of the Mariah's vortex released him. Danny came up to the surface choking and sputtering out swallowed water as wave after choppy wave washed over his head from the now departing vessel. He was still stuck in its wake and he bobbed over and over as he failed at regaining his equilibrium and sense of direction. Heart hammering from fear, his leg also stung viciously in the saltwater as he vainly tried to get himself under some semblance of control. But that was soon the least of his worries as he palmed water and rivulets of blood from his face and awkwardly tried to stay afloat. Shock made him slow to recover and by the time he managed to turn his body towards the Mariah, he could barely read her name on the shining hull.

In the distance he could see what looked like a fight on deck between his partner and the five men that had turned the tables on them much too early in the operation. Steve was woefully out numbered but the irate SEAL was proving a formidable foe to the criminals on board. As the yacht was turned hard to starboard, Danny lost sight of them and felt his heart lurch when a plume of pitch black smoke suddenly came up from the stern.

In a ridiculous attempt to do something, Danny began a crawling swim to follow the boat ignoring the pain in his leg as the moderate seas buffeted him back and forth. He was beside himself just a few minutes later when he saw distant red flames licking through the black smoke of the rear port-hole windows.

"Nononono!" The small smoldering fire he had set when locked down below had escalated much too quickly into a true hot blaze. He had meant it to only smoke and smolder in order to buy them time. His assumption had been that Abe and Marty - acting on behalf of the Yakuza - had decided the deal had gone sour. He had meant to create a minor smoke bomb of sorts so that he, Steve and Troy could retaliate. However, Danny watched now as real flames licked up through the rear of the cabin.

He'd been shot in the short tussle with Marty when the man attacked him in the rear galley. He'd been shot with his own weapon that he'd automatically yanked from his ankle holster. Marty had gotten lucky and turned the tables quickly on Danny. Before he could even register the pain of the wound, the large man had him stuffed unceremoniously in the smallest bathroom. Thrown heavily to the floor, Danny had first torn a bath towel to shreds to use as a tourniquet.

Moments later, he had used his fingers to pry the baseboard off the side wall under the sink surprised to see what looked like access to the back portion of the engine room. Remnants of the same torn bath towel, a bottle of liquid bathroom cleaner and a rusted can of what smelled like turpentine provided the rudimentary idea as he worked at creating a small smoke bomb of sorts. The tiny cabinets held scented candles and matches, providing everything Danny needed to set his plan into motion. Half of the cleaner joined the acrid product in the old can. A long piece of the shredded towel was dampened in the mixture as he made a long tail of the cloth to prop up the book of matches. When he heard the engines start up, he quickly struck one match and positioned the rest of the matchbook against the old rag within the recesses of where the engine was housed. For kicks, he pushed the opened bottle of bathroom cleaner in next to the tin can.

Danny remembered his feeling of pride in accomplishing the diversion. He had thought that 'Steve, the Science Guy' would be duly impressed with his quick improvisation. By the time the door opened, the baseboard was back in place well before Marty leered over his head and Danny was hoping the big man didn't quite literally, smell anything wrong. Learning that Troy Sawyer was the mastermind behind the betrayal was short of astonishing and meant neither he nor Steve had any true allies on board the departing yacht. The odds had suddenly depleted significantly.

But now - based on what Danny saw happening before his very eyes, his simple plan had worked much too well.

"No." Danny coughed water from his lungs as he tried to swim faster, but the boat was still moving away from him and as he ridiculously shouted for Steve, there was a loud pop and then an explosion. The explosion was centered once more in the rear and Danny watched in horror as the boat shuddered. As if in slow motion, it began to take on water as it toppled onto its starboard side.

"Steve!" Too far away to be affected, Danny was also too far to be of any help and could only watch as the black smoke obscured the entire boat and anyone on board from his sight. His eyes widened in shock as the boat's broad beamed bottom glowed whitely in the bright sunlight before another explosion spewed it's innards into the air in a flaming mass of debris.

"Steve!" The second explosion drowned him out completely and Danny swore he could feel the shock waves rippling through the water under him as he churned forward. He tried for minutes on end to gain ground on the debris but the fickle tides and his own injuries prevented him from getting closer. Exhausted and already breathing too hard, Danny was swamped again by a wave and came up choking.

He was in serious trouble.

His heart hammered in his chest as the distant smoke cleared and all he could see was pieces of what had been the large cabin cruiser. There wasn't a sign of a single soul as he struggled to see signs of life in the choppy waters.

Not only was he in trouble. He was alone. And his brain couldn't quite focus on the fact that he'd likely killed his own partner, too.

"I killed him." Danny took a shuddering gasp as he blinked water from his eyes. He couldn't believe that Steve would be dead. There was no way that he'd die like this on a stupid god-awful sting operation that had been planned down to every minute detail.

The fact that it was Troy Sawyer who had flipped didn't quite make a dent in Danny's befuddled mind. The why wasn't even a question he could form in his head yet. He could barely wrap his brain around the last few minutes of what had just happened on board the Mariah where he'd been so arbitrarily disposed of; and then on top of it all, he'd accidentally murdered Steve McGarrett.

His mouth dropped open as he watched the vessel sink in mere seconds. What had taken up a hulking and impressive mass on the surface was now simply gone.

Blindly, Danny kicked off his one remaining shoe sputtering weakly and going under once again as the motion conflicted with his ability to stay afloat. Biting his lip, Danny tugged the torn piece of towel over his thigh and cinched it tighter as a tourniquet. The bullet had gone completely through but the pain was incredible combined with the caustic nature of the salt water.

Danny watched the horizon, slowly treading water in an awkward circle. And then, he simply didn't know what to do.

Alone and near to drowning, he nearly sobbed out loud at the uselessness of his predicament combined with what he'd done to destroy the large yacht. The current was taking him farther from the debris field and he had no idea which way shore was - and then it didn't matter since he'd never make it.

It didn't matter because he'd killed Steve.

He vaguely realized help was on the way, too. But he'd never last as the thirty minute ETA resonated in the back of his mind. If the signal from the Mariah was lost in any way, the game plan altered and help would be scrambled with a thirty-minute estimated time of arrival to their last recorded location.

But he had no boat. No dinghy and no life jacket. No tools at all. The worst was Steve and Danny felt the fearful lump rising in his throat again as he panted in exhaustion against the power of the relentless tidal waters. Eyes still wide, Danny couldn't help himself as he heaved in a choking breath and then yelled as loudly as he could.

"Steve!"

His voice broke on the next struggled inhale and this time he did feel the bubble of panic come through. Almost forgetting about Troy Sawyer's deceit, he could only dwell on what he'd done in the yacht's small bathroom.

"Oh god. What did I do?"

Only twenty minutes later, Danny had stopped calling and belatedly focused on keeping his head above the water. He'd pushed anything else from his mind except for the unbidden thoughts of his childhood friend who had died at the Jersey shore, sharks that would undoubtedly be coming soon based on his bleeding wound, and of course ... his Grace.

"I'm sorry." He whispered as he thought about Grace. Then Steve. He could barely even think of Grace when his loss of Steve at his own hands took his breath away completely.

"What did I do?" Flipping onto his back, Danny closed his eyes and tried to rest briefly but a wave washed completely over his face and he panicked as he went under in an exhausted state of confusion. Slapping stupidly at the water, he surfaced and resolutely went back to the not so simple task of keeping his head above each wave. His injured leg was a leaden weight though as he tired more quickly than he would have thought possible.

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He heard the voice from far away just as he weakly surfaced from another full drenching. Riding too low in the water, Danny then wasn't certain he had heard anything as he bobbed and spat water from his mouth. Blood loss, fear and exhaustion were weakening him by the second and when he heard the sound of the distant voice again, Danny shook his head in denial. He was sure that he was hearing things and he mumbled in confusion.

"What? Crazy .. no one."

Already raspy, his own was nearly gone and before he could try to scan the horizon, he was under yet again and sinking more than the last time as his muscles seized from exertion and stress. Clawing slowly back up, Danny was almost out of air and hope when he felt the fingers on his forearm and then around his waist aiding him towards daylight until his head broke free to allow him a choking gulp of fresh air.

"Danno. Easy, I got you." He trembled at the downright shock of it as he found himself scooped awkwardly into Steve's chest.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?" Leave it to Steve to pester him with ridiculous questions as his heart pounded violently through his own chest and his fingers scrabbled against the SEAL's iron grip.

"You .. died." Danny's voice was a squeaky coughed whimper as his mind tried to catch up with what was going on. The tattooed arm around his chest was unmistakable though, as was the sturdy chest that elevated him to ride higher in the waves. Yet he tried to break free in an illogical move to escape his dead partner's grasp.

"Let .. me go." He struggled and fought with the dregs of his last ounce of energy. Steve was dead and this could only be a dark dream where he was on the verge of dying. "You died. You're ... dead."

Surprised by the unexpected struggle, Steve pulled him in even tighter and used his free hand to restrain Danny's left wrist that tugged so hard on his arm to break away. His partner was gasping in fear and shock - he wasn't making any sense.

"Easy!" Holding him closer, Steve tried to get Danny's attention as he kept them both afloat. "Hey, hey. Danno, it's me. You're okay."

"No, no. It blew. I saw it .. you died. I killed you."

"Killed me?" There was a soft chuckle and a warm breath on Danny's cheek as strong arms pulled him persistently back into a basic rescue position. "No. You did good, partner. You saved us."

Steve's voice finally began to make headway as Danny heaved in a deep breath and tiredly ceased his struggle. "Whatever you did was perfectly timed down to the last second. It just took me some time to find you."

Matter of fact and patient words warmed him and Danny couldn't hide the relieved sob in his voice as he rubbed at Steve's arm now for reassurance.

"But .. I killed you." He was trembling in earnest now and shaking his head in total disbelief where he lay now against Steve's shoulder.

"Steve."

"You didn't, Danny. You did good." Another warm breath blew across his face as Steve repositioned his hold. "Rest and let me do some of the work. Other than your leg, are you hurt? That was quite a fall."

"I thought. Steve." Lame and apologetic, Danny lost his voice entirely as he allowed his head to rest tiredly on Steve's shoulder and rocked along with him in the rough waves. His overwhelmed brain backfired and he completely failed at answering Steve's questions entirely. He hadn't killed his stubborn partner after all and his relief was sickeningly palpable.

"They're coming for us, Danny. They should be here soon since the ETA is just about up. We're within a mile or two of the last coordinates and the Mariah was wired up to her gills. Just hang on, buddy."

He felt Steve shift him higher and then astutely check the bruising wound on his face and then skirt across his chest and each cold limb. He hissed when Steve connected with the wound in his thigh which had until then been utterly deadened and then blindly examined the tourniquet.

"How are you doing?" Steve could feel the ice-cold skin under his hands as he gauged Danny's injuries and overall state of mind. He was barely coping, thought he had killed him, and was near to drowning when Steve had finally seen the soaked blonde head struggling to stay above wave after relentless wave.

"Good. Fine." No snark or heat to the monotone words which ended in an odd short giggle which had Steve frowning worriedly. He cocked his head to view the side of Danny's face and inwardly winced at the purpling bruise which outlined the jagged cut across his cheek. He was sure that his own chin didn't look much better off after meeting the stock of Abe's rifle. However along with the wounded leg, the jagged cut on Danny's cheek was scoured by seawater and undoubtedly very painful. He knew that to be true based on the persistent deep burning sensations tracing the length of his own neck.

Danny's eyes were closed behind wetly clumped lashes and he was panting fearfully through his mouth as they drifted together through the waves. He was undeniably in pain but also doing his best to not panic for Steve's sake.

"Yeah, I bet you're fine, Danno." Wiping his hair back from the pale forehead, Steve knew better than anyone Danny's very real and valid fear of the ocean and now the worst was happening in real life. His stomach twisted in sympathy as Danny drew in another weak shuddering breath.

"Take it easy, partner. You did good." Steve hugged him tighter to his chest to drill the point home as Danny struggled to breathe more normally.

Coupled with the unexpected belief that he'd killed Steve, Danny was trembling in near shock at the utter relief of it all. Taking a moment to check where they were in the supposed relation to the private islet, Steve gently changed course with a purposeful one-armed stroke. He wasn't about to wait to see if and when help arrived; he knew that the islet would also be a search destination and they both needed the relief of dry land. It was a risk as well because those that had setup the earlier elaborate spread could and would return for clean up. Another miraculous and invisible task that he prayed had already been completed.

He shushed Danny when he felt the spasmodic fearful fingers tighten on his arm. "We're going back to the shoal. But they're on the way, Danno. We'll be home before you know it."

~ to be continued ~