The phrase "one step forward and two steps back" could be used to described what happened next.

Steve woke up the next morning feeling that something was wrong. He was fine lying down, but the minute he sat up, the constant headache changed from tolerable to unbearable.

"Callie," he nudged her. "I don't feel good."

"What?" she snapped awake. "Tell me what's going on."

"Bad headache. Worse when I sit up. I'm tired, Cal." He curled into her, wanting the pain to go away.

"You're a little warm, too," she said, gently touching his forehead.

He sniffed. "My nose is running."

A feeling of icy dread took up the space in her stomach.

"All right," she said decidedly, trying to remain calm. "Let's get up and get dressed. I'll call Dr. Pace. He can meet us at the ER."

"Why?" Steve asked groggily.

"Because I'm afraid you're leaking cerebrospinal fluid," she said softly. "Now, come on, commander. Let's get going."


Dr. Pace greeted the trio at the ER doors. He had already commandeered a wheelchair and helped Callie and Danny lower Steve into it, then headed immediately for a room.

"Has anything changed since you talked to me last?" Dr. Pace asked Callie.

"The headache seems worse, and his balance is definitely off," Callie answered. "He has been sick a couple of times."

Dr. Pace nodded. "It does sound like a CSF leak, but I think you caught it quickly. Once we get him settled, I'm going to give him fluids and medication for pain and nausea through the IV. We're going to do some tests, then we'll figure out what we're going to do."

The testing lasted throughout the morning, and Dr. Pace confirmed his diagnosis. "With CSF leaks that come from trauma, a lumbar drain can be very effective. We'll try that first, and if we don't have success with it, we'll talk about other options."

"Tell me about the lumbar drain," Danny said. "I haven't heard of that before."

"It's a surgical procedure," Dr. Pace began to explain. "We'll put a tiny drain in his lower back that will lead to a bag so we can measure the amount of spinal fluid he's losing. We'll keep him on complete bed rest for three to five days. He has to lie completely flat. He'll be able to have a pillow but that's it; we won't be able to raise the bed or let him sit up at all. I know it sounds scary to say that someone is leaking cerebrospinal fluid, and it is serious, but the best treatment for this is bed rest. We'll give him fluids and caffeinated drinks to help with the headache, and we'll keep him comfortable." Dr. Pace looked grim. "He probably isn't going to be very happy for the next few days."

Callie nodded in agreement. "I'm sure. What will this do to his recovery time? He was doing so well."

Dr. Pace sighed. "It's going to lengthen it, I'm afraid. We're not back to square one, but it's a substantial setback."

Callie winced. "I was afraid of that."

"Again, I need you and the rest of your friends to keep a close eye on him for signs of depression. This isn't going to be easy for him. Get him to talk to you, or I could arrange for someone to stop by if you prefer. My suggestion is to keep a constant presence. You need to let him rest, of course, but you also need to make sure he doesn't feel alone in this. "

Danny smiled. "Oh, we can do presence."

The next three days were long and hard on everyone, but the ohana persevered, and the CSF leak closed on it's own without requiring surgical intervention. Steve was discharged after the third day with the same instructions from his last hospital stay—rest.


Prone to headaches anyway, Steve struggled with the constant pain that often turned into a migraine. He was exhausted from it. Dr. Pace chose to increase his pain medication which, naturally, made the nausea worse. His throat was sore, and his shoulders and back ached from heaving. He was tired all the time and felt foggy from the Phenergan.

In short, he was miserable and it was beginning to wear on him. The fact that his team had a case and Callie was returning to work was just icing on the proverbial cake. And then there was Danny's stupid SEAL Sitting calendar that he had labeled as such and hung on the fridge. There was also a medication schedule, a list of do's and don'ts, and a list of Frequently Asked Questions. What the hell. Then, just to emasculate him a little more, as if he didn't feel enough like a child already, there was a folder with daily checklists for his caregivers to fill out so Danny would know what had gone on during the day. What time he got up, naps, how long he slept, what he ate, if they walked any, his disposition…even a section to tally how many times he threw up.

He knew Danny was just trying to be helpful. He knew his friends were giving up their time to sit with him, and he was grateful, he really was. But he was just so tired of this. He wanted to scream or cry or both just out of sheer frustration—forget the physical pain. He couldn't work out and exercise was what had always calmed him. He needed that. Running or swimming gave him an outlet, a way to compartmentalize and deal with things. And now he was in what felt like the biggest battle of his life, and he had no way to cope. He was tired of this, and there was no end in sight, and damn it all to hell he was thisclose to just losing it.

Callie had been watching him as she got ready. His eyes were closed, but his face was tense and he was squeezing the sheets in his fists. She mentally prepared herself for the conversation she was about to have, praying for strength and patience.

"I know you don't like this, Steve," she said softly. "But it's going to be okay."

"Sure," he snapped. "Who's going to be babysitting today while everyone else's life goes back to normal? I forgot to check Danny's calendar." There was malice and frustration in his voice.

"Steve…" she trailed off, her heart breaking for the strong, independent man who was having to rely on others even to walk. "Do you want me to stay? Would that be better?"

"No," he choked. "You have patients and you've already been off so long."

"I can take a leave of absence. Maybe that's what I should have done in the first place."

"It's fine, Callie."

"It's not, Steve, and I'm sorry."

"Well, it is what it is, right?" He turned away from her.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Jerry will be here today," she told him gently. "I'll see you this evening, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Just go, Callie."

"I love you, Steve. Don't forget that."

"Love you, too."

The only sound she heard as she left the room was his quiet sniffling, as he once again felt more alone than he possibly ever had before.

"Take care of him today, buddy," she whispered to Beau as he curled up beside Steve.


She stepped out of the master bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her and taking a shuddering breath. Danny happened to be leaving the guest bedroom at the same time. As they walked down the stairs, she shook her head. "I don't know what to do, Danny," she said. "He's in a bad place."

"I know," Danny said. "He seems to be drifting further and further away."

They both greeted Jerry at the door. He had an armful of books, what looked to be rolled maps, and an iPod with very large headphones. "Hey, guys!"

They both smiled at him tiredly.

"So…not a good morning?" Jerry questioned.

"No," Callie shook her head. "And you may be in for a rough time today, Jerry. I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'll be fine. What's going on with Captain America?"

Callie smiled at Jerry's nickname for Steve. "He's just having a hard time with all of this. He still doesn't feel well, still hasn't been cleared for anything, the CSF leak was a setback, and…he's struggling, Jerry." She sighed. "I really think you're the best person for this today, Jer. He'll be better for you than anyone else."

"Thanks, Callie. You both have a good day. I'll look after the commander."


Beau raised his head and sniffed as Jerry walked into the bedroom with a tray. He hadn't moved from Steve's side.

"You have to eat something, Commander," Jerry said. "Look, I've made waffles, scrambled eggs, and bacon. I've cut up a bunch of fruit. You don't have to eat everything…just some of it."

Steve didn't even raise his head off the pillow. "Not hungry, Jerry."

"Okay. I get that. But you have to take your medicine, and you have to eat with it or it will make you sick."

"I'll get sick anyway as soon as I move my head."

"Again, I get that. But Detective Williams said—"

"Screw Detective Williams, Jerry! If I don't want to eat, I'm not eating. Just check it off his damn list and move the hell on."

Jerry stilled himself and took a deep breath. "Okay, Commander. I brought your medication and some juice. I'll leave the plate here just in case you decide you want it."

Jerry handed the pills and juice to Steve, who dutifully swallowed them. "Do you need to check my mouth to make sure I actually took them? Is that on Danny's list too?"

Jerry shook his head, not sure what to say. "Do you want me to stay in here?"

"No."

"Okay. I'll be right downstairs if you need me."

"Great. Thanks, Jer." Steve sighed and closed his eyes.

The rest of Jerry's day went just as unsuccessfully. Steve refused lunch, took his medicine, and then went back to sleep. Jerry suggested playing cards, taking a walk, sitting outside on the lanai…and was quickly turned down each time.

"I'm fine, Jer. You can go downstairs."

Beau looked at Jerry with sad eyes. He knew something was wrong.

By the time Callie got home from the office and the team arrived, Jerry was beside himself with worry. "He's…different today," he told them. "He won't eat, won't talk. He has been polite, but not happy, you know? You can see a difference in his eyes—there's no light there today. He's just not himself."

"I know, Jerry. I got that feeling this morning too. I'll talk to him." Callie started to walk upstairs, but Danny stopped her.

"Let me go," he said. "It sounds like he's in a mood and needs to vent. He won't yell at you. Luckily, he doesn't have that problem with me. Let's see if we can get him sorted out."

"Be easy with him, Danny," Kono said. "This is a hard time for him. You're dealing with a person who can't stay still, and he's been told he can't do anything but that for weeks."

"I know," Danny said, heading up the stairs. "I've got this."

"Lord help us," Lou said in his low voice. "McGarrett's going to kill him."

"I'd say that's a good possibility today," Jerry agreed.


"So, SuperSEAL," Danny said as he climbed in bed next to Steve, making Beau scoot over. "Tell me what's up."

"Why don't you tell me why you're always in my bed lately?" Steve replied sourly.

"Because I love you," he said simply. "Now, tell me what's going on. Jerry tattled on you. No eating, barely any drinking, no talking, sleeping too much…" he trailed off.

"What else do I have to do, Danny, other than sleep? I'm tired of making small talk, tired of babysitters, tired of everyone else getting to go on with their normal lives and I fuckin' can't. I can't for a long time. I'm just so tired of all of this." There was anger in Steve's voice, but also a weariness that Danny couldn't bear to hear.

Danny sat quietly, thinking about what to say. His partner seemed close to tears, so a yelling argument wasn't in order. He needed a gentler approach. "What if we think about the positives?"

"What positives?" Steve scowled.

"Okay," Danny was using his soft voice, which was disconcerting to Steve. "First, all things considered, you're doing well," Danny raised his hand before Steve could argue. "Ep, ep, ep. I'm not finished yet. You are doing well. You're doing great, in fact. You survived a traumatic brain injury and a fractured skull. You made it through brain surgery. Brain surgery, Steven. You have no cognitive impairments from this. Your motor skills, even your fine motor skills, are okay. Do you know that's unheard of with your type of injury? So, babe, you're doing okay. Yeah, it's going to take you some time to get back to yourself. I'm so sorry that this happened to you. I'm sorry you're hurt. I know you've been through a lot, and I know it isn't over, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry the recovery is going so slow. I know you're tired and you're hurting and you're sick. But just hang on, okay? It's going to be slow, but you'll get there. You're already doing so much better than what Dr. Pace predicted that night. That night….God, that night I was so scared. I don't know if I've ever been so terrified. We didn't know if you were going to wake up. We didn't know who you'd be or what kind of deficits you would have. And for you to have done this well? Even with the setback, it's a miracle, Steve. You'll get there, I promise, because I'm going to make sure of it."

"I don't know that I have it in me, Danno," Steve confessed, tears in his eyes. "I can't do this much more. I can't hurt like this, feel this sick, this useless. I can't."

Danny pulled him close. "Okay. Then you don't do it. Put it on me, babe. You lean on me. Lean on all of us. We're here for you."

"I'm so tired. So tired," Steve's voice hitched.

"I know you are," Danny said, kissing the top of his head. "Sleep for a while, babe. Then we'll eat dinner and figure out a way to make you feel better, okay?"

"'K, Danno," Steve mumbled. "Don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, babe. I'm not going anywhere."


Callie tapped on the door a little while later. She smiled at the scene before her, and Danny smiled back. "Hi," she whispered, crawling onto the other side of the bed. "Should I be jealous?"

"Heck, yeah," Danny grinned, then sobered. "We've got to figure something out, Cal. He's struggling. We need to make sure he's getting out as much as he can. Heck, I'll even go swimming with him. There are ways to get him active without raising his heart rate too much. He doesn't need to feel like we're babysitting him either. I'm throwing all that shit on the fridge away. That was stupid of me. He needs someone with him, and he knows that, but there's a better way of doing this. Let's order dinner and get to work. We're going to find a way to fix this."


"Thanks, Governor," Danny was saying on the phone. "Yeah. I think it'll be best for everyone too."

Danny grinned at the others. "Let's go, guys. We have work to do."


When Steve woke up, Callie was beside of him. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," she whispered back, smiling and kissing him gently. "You feeling better?"

"Some."

"Let's get you in the shower and then we'll head downstairs. Danny said he was picking up something for dinner."

Steve nodded his agreement.

Once he was dressed, Callie helped him downstairs. Beau cheerfully followed, then snuggled right back up against Steve's side as he lay on the couch.