A/N I don't own the rights to any of these characters.

A/N I did some internet research but I'm basically winging it with my medical parts. It's a fanfic, not a medical textbook.

A/N I'm trying to weave some facts from the episode into the story. My apologies if I end up getting the two confused somewhere along the way.

A/N I mention a struggle with anxiety in this story. I know a couple people who suffer from anxiety disorder and the way Danny is written and the way Scott plays him it seems to me that Danny suffers from anxiety the way the people I know do. It's a constant battle for them, but they manage to live a normal life without relying on medication. So, I write it this way with all due respect.

H50 H50 H50

Steve was surprised at how much better he felt after telling Danny the truth about what happened to him in the ER. Never in his life had he passed out, never before had he been so overcome by emotion, the utter fear of what might have been. He felt better, lighter and more prepared to help Danny through this than he had felt before. He wondered about how his father and grandfathers had got it all so wrong and how this sarcastic blond, from New Jersey of all places, had it right. Showing your emotions was tough, but so very worthwhile.

They sat together on the bed for a while longer, Steve not caring that he was late for work, the team would understand. They talked, they argued, they laughed. It all felt so right.

With the catheter removed but the IV still dripping copious amounts of liquid into his body, Danny needed to use the bathroom to relieve himself. "Hey babe. Tantalizing conversation here, but I need to go water the garden."

"Water the garden?" Steve asked.

Danny nodded towards the bathroom.

Steve laughed. Must be a New Jersey expression. "Need some help?"

Danny pointed to the IV pole, which would have to come with him. It was on the same side of the bed as Steve. "Just need you to get out of the way." He slowly began to shift towards the side of the bed.

Steve stood up and hovered nearby. "Aren't you supposed to call for help?"

"She just said I shouldn't do it alone." He nodded his head towards Steve. "I'm not alone."

"True. You got anything on under that hospital gown?" Steve laughed upon seeing a bit more than he should as Danny moved.

"Crap. Melissa hasn't come with my things yet. Close the door huh?" Danny said, nodding his head at the door to the hallway that he'd have to pass to get to the bathroom. He was almost to the edge of the bed now.

Steve took a couple steps towards the door and then stopped. "What's it worth to you?" he challenged with a smirk, arms crossed, unmoving.

"What's it worth? I'll show you what it's worth," Danny snarled as he moved his legs over the side of the bed. "Just give me a half hour to get over there," he added with a giggle.

Danny put his feet on the floor and stood up. The entire room spun in a dizzying array of shapes and colors and his knees buckled. He reached out with his left hand for the IV pole, the bed, anything that he could reach, his right hand immobile in a sling. A strong grip from his right side pulled him back up before he hit the floor. Steve!

"Hey, easy there, Booboo," Steve told him as he held him steady, arms wrapped around his waist, being careful to avoid the stitched up wounds.

Danny stood swaying for a moment until the room stopped spinning. He groaned from nausea and fatigue, and he hadn't even stepped away from the bed yet.

"You okay?" Steve loosened his grip somewhat to test Danny's balance.

"Yeah, thanks babe." He grabbed the IV pole, as much for the support as to take it with him. He hadn't been on his feet in nearly 24 hours and was rather shaky from blood loss and pain. He still felt a little dizzy and he looked a little green to Steve.

"You going to keep your breakfast down?" Steve asked, still holding on to him.

"Not planning on breaking that streak today," Danny assured him, sounding more confident than he felt as he took the first tentative step.

Steve stayed with him, offering physical and moral support from his side. When they neared the door, Steve stepped away quickly and swung it closed before coming back. He had no problem teasing his partner, mercilessly at times, but he'd always have his back.

The bathroom itself proved problematic to Danny after Steve helped him in there. His legs were shaky, his right arm was useless, his left arm was attached to the IV line while his left hand held onto the pole for support. To top it all off, the hospital gown was in the way. If he let go of the pole to hold the gown out of the way, he was afraid he would fall. He had no choice though. Cautiously, he released his grip on the pole, felt himself waver and reached for it again. "Crap."

Standing just outside the door, Steve was torn. On one hand he wanted to give him his privacy but on the other hand he didn't want him to do a face plant into the toilet. He knew if he asked Danny if he needed help the answer would be a resounding no. The man had too much pride to ask for help in the bathroom. Seeing Danny waver a second time though, he made a decision. He backed into the bathroom, grabbed a hold of the edge of the gown and tugged it up, eyes looking out the bathroom door. "You've got 30 seconds before the curtain goes down, partner. I hope you don't have stage fright."

Danny performed in less than 20, ad-libbing some mumbling comment about goofy Neanderthal partners who like to get a little too up-close and personal. Steve responded with a simple "you're welcome" as he dropped the curtain. Steve was very aware of how humiliating and demeaning the situation was for Danny, on top of how terrified he surely was at the thought of never using his arm again. Nothing more would ever be said about it.

He was not, however, above teasing Danny about his lack of clothing. "Come on, buddy," Steve said as he turned and slipped under Danny's arm that held onto the IV pole. "Let's get you back under cover before that cute nurse comes in and sees you in all your glory."

When Danny was safely tucked back in bed, he heard his cell phone buzz and he checked the message. He looked up at Steve. "Can I ask you another favor? Get me some shorts? There's a pair in my gym bag in my locker. Melissa's not sure when she can get here. "

Steve wondered about Melissa being too busy to come. It didn't sit right with him. He tried not to judge, though. He didn't know what her own situation was, and he wasn't going to ask Danny. "Sure. I'll send them with whoever is coming next." He noticed that Danny's eyes were drooping. He still looked pale and drawn, with pain lines around his eyes instead of the laugh lines he preferred to see. "I'll let you sleep now," he added softly as he patted Danny on the leg.

His eyes now shut, Danny mumbled something unintelligible as Steve left quietly. While Danny was exhausted from the doctor's exam, the emotional conversation and the trek to the bathroom, Steve was buoyed by the heartfelt conversation. He left the hospital feeling capable of facing catching bad guys without his partner by his side, for today anyway.

When Danny awoke he was alone in the room. He didn't remember Steve leaving but he wasn't surprised that he was gone. The man had a job to do, a job that Danny might never get to do again he lamented with a sigh before pushing those thoughts away. He didn't expect Steve to sit there and watch him sleep. The thought of it was actually kind of creepy.

Knowing it was afternoon in New Jersey now, Danny called his parents' home, half hoping nobody would answer. He knew Steve had called them last night and told them about the attack and he was pretty sure that poor Eric's phone had then been inundated with calls asking for updates. There had been a few missed calls on his own phone that he missed while he slept. The concept of the time change was still a challenge for some in the family. As much as he knew that his parents simply needed to hear his voice he also knew that they wouldn't want to hear the news the doctor had given him. His thoughts were interrupted when his mother answered the line.

"Daniel, is that you?" came the panicked voice of his mother.

"Yeah. Hi Mom."

"How are you son?" His father must have picked up the other phone.

"I'm doing okay, Pop."

"Can you feel anything with your hand? Can you move it? Eric said you couldn't move it." Clara was never one for subtlety. At least Danny didn't have to break the news.

"Clara!" Ed admonished.

"It's okay, Pop. No Mom. No change. Please don't cry," he added as she burst into tears. "Mom, it's going to be okay. Really. It's all going to be just fine." He kept trying to convince himself of that, too.

While his mother tried to pull herself together the two men continued to talk. "Steve said Eric found you."

"He did good Pop. You should be proud of him. He may have saved my life." They spoke of Eric and all that had transpired for a while until Clara got back on the line, composed again now.

"How's Grace?" Clara asked.

"She's great, as always," Danny said with pride. "She'll be coming by after school."

"Give her a big hug and kiss for us," Clara told him.

"Danny, how's that other grandson of mine," Ed now asked, meaning Charlie, not Eric.

"He's amazing Pop. He loves the firefighter costume you sent him." He didn't mention that it came too late for Halloween. He had simply dressed him up in it and pulled out the camera.

"We saw the pictures. He looks so much like you when you were that age," Clara said. Danny braced himself for the question his mother always asked about how Rachel could have lied about his paternity – as if Danny knew the answer. Apparently, his injury now trumped that story. "You're not letting him come to the hospital are you? He's much too young for hospitals."

Danny didn't remind her that the boy had just spent a couple months in the children's hospital after the transplant. "No ma. I can't wait to get out of here and give him a big hug though."

The conversation continued for another half hour. They discussed the weather and Danny was jealous of the chilly conditions his mother whined about. They spoke about each of his sisters and how they were doing. Being on his mind since his talk with Steve earlier, Danny asked about how the Selways were doing. He stopped in to see them every time he went back to New Jersey and exchanged occasional phone calls and emails as well. He was warmed by the fact that they allowed him a special place in their hearts as they held in his.

When Danny shifted in the bed and couldn't hide the groan the conversation came back around to him and to why he was injured more times in 6 years in "paradise" Hawaii than he had been in his 13 years as a cop in crime infested Newark NJ. Danny explained again that his work here was on a statewide, special task force for big crime, which carried big risk.

His mother wasn't satisfied with the answer and they moved on yet again to the subject of his arm, to the prospect of permanent disability and what he would do with himself if he couldn't be a cop. His father was encouraging, saying they should think positive and table this conversation until they knew more but his mother seemed to have given up already and brought herself to tears more than once. It hit Danny hard and so it was with a heavy heart and tears in his own eyes that Danny finally said his goodbyes and ended the call.

Thoughts rattling around frantically in his head from the call with his parents his gaze drifted down to his arm resting in the sling. He tried to move his arm, his hand, even just a finger, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing would budge. He kept at it, focusing his mind on it. He had never before thought about how you send a signal from your brain to your body to make it move. The doctor had tried to explain it all to him after he awoke from the surgery, but it had been extremely overwhelming. Danny's brain had tried to shut off at the first mention of possibly never using his hand again. He didn't catch much after that.

How could his arm be paralyzed if his central nervous system hadn't been compromised? He struggled to focus but couldn't come up with details of what the doctor had said. He picked up his cell phone and tried an Internet search. It took him a few tries before he came up with the right words to search and his limited typing ability with his left hand slowed the process down even further. Having nowhere to go and nothing to do, however, the slow pace didn't bother the normally high-speed man very much.

Finally, Danny was able to piece some things together. The somatic nervous system, a part of the peripheral nervous system controlled voluntary body movement such as movement of the arm. Motor neurons within that system carry nerve impulses from the brain to the muscles to be moved. Controlling body movement involves a complex interaction between sensory neurons, the brain, and motor neurons. In Danny's case, apparently, the knife attack had somehow damaged the interactive process.

Just wonderful. Trying to communicate with his teenage daughter, his preschool son, his lying ex-wife and his emotionally stunted partner was bad enough. Now he couldn't even communicate with his own freaking arm. How was this his life?

He tried again to move some part of his right arm - just a flicker, something, anything. But nothing. Not a damn thing. He pounded his left hand into the mattress as he let out a sob.

He sat like that the rest of the morning, repeating the same cycle – typing, researching, reading, thinking, trying, trying, trying to move his arm and then pounding his left hand on the bed in frustration as tears filled his eyes.

"What did that bed do to you, Jersey?"

Lou's voice halted Danny's latest round of pounding. "I need a punching bag, Lou. I need to lift some weights or something. I need to be able to get out of this bed before I go totally, certifiably insane. Don't say it!" Danny held up his left hand as a warning to Lou to not even try a joke about his sanity.

Lou heard the crack in Danny's voice, saw the tears in his eyes, but didn't comment on it. He knew from Danny's own admission how he struggled with anxiety, fear, self doubts. Danny had told him how keeping moving, keeping busy, keeping talking helped to quiet the worries and fears that rattled around in his head all the time. It was how he functioned, how he made it through each day. Sitting here in bed, alone, with nothing to do and nobody to talk to had to be torture for him. Throw the prospect of a permanently disabled arm and the pain he was experiencing into the mix and it had to have been pure hell.

Lou smiled to try and change the mood. "Maybe this will help." He tossed Danny's small duffle bag onto Danny's legs. "Besides going stir crazy, how you feeling?" he asked while Danny pulled the bag closer to him and began to fumble with the zipper. "You look much better than the last time I saw you."

"Well, if we're comparing to yesterday then I feel amazing. Got the good stuff flowing, ya know?" He held up his left hand to show him the IV line, and then went back to work on the zipper. "If we're comparing to the day before that, I feel like crap." He tugged at the zipper several times with a frustrated grunt. This zipper was difficult on a good day with two hands. Roughly shoving the bag away, he reached up to his head and squeezed his temples to try and alleviate some of the tension.

"Just ask for help, buddy. We're here for you," Lou said softly as he reached over and tugged the zipper open. Even he found it a bit difficult and he was using two hands.

Danny sighed, getting a better handle on his emotions. "Thanks Lou. Sorry about that."

"Hey, you're going through a rough time, man. I get it. Just don't try to do this alone." He placed the bag back in Danny's lap.

Danny nodded and peered into the bag, his face lighting up as he pulled out a phone charger and a pair of gym shorts from amongst the things inside. "Come here so I can kiss you babe," he told Lou in his own creative way of saying thank you.

"Save that kiss for Renee," Lou said as he reached over to a chair and picked up a plastic bag that Danny hadn't seen him put there.

The scent of warm food assaulted Danny's senses and he smiled even broader. Danny remembered the Eggplant Parmesan that Renee had sent to him when he was in the hospital for the bone marrow donation to Charlie. Lou and Renee seemed to have a good, happy, solid marriage, the kind of marriage Danny had hoped for all his life, the kind he thought he would have when he married Rachel. He was happy for Lou. He was a good man and he deserved to be happy. "I'll say it again Lou, I hope you realize what a lucky man you are. What did she send this time?" He would have rubbed his hands together in delightful anticipation if he could have. Instead he licked his lips.

"Chicken Parm," he said as he began to open the bag and move the container onto the bed table. He went on before Danny could voice the objection he was sure was on his mind. "Carefully cut into bite size pieces by Samantha - and if you try and kiss my daughter I will have to come back here and hurt you."

Danny laughed and held up his left hand in a show of peace. "Please express my deepest verbal thanks to Samantha."

"Will do. Now, do you want to eat first or get some clothes on?

"I prefer to eat while dressed like a civilized human being," Danny answered.

Lou didn't even give him a chance to ask him to close the door. "How much is it worth it to you for me to close that door?" he asked with a smirk.

"You've been hanging around Steve too much," Danny told him.

"Old joke?" Lou lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"Very old." As Lou closed the door, Danny kicked the covers off and with a pair of boxers in his left hand began to lean forward to try and get them on.

Lou watched Danny's careful movements in empathy. The man was clearly hurting but trying not to show it. It would take him a very long time to accomplish this task on his own right now, one-handed and in pain. Silently, he reached over and helped Danny get the boxers over his feet and then pull them up over his hips under the gown, his dignity remaining intact. They repeated the silent process with the gray gym shorts.

"Thanks Lou," Danny said with true gratitude, but unable to look the man in the eye. Needing help to get dressed was simply humiliating.

"Nothing you wouldn't have done for me," was Lou's reply. "Although with your skinny hips my job was much easier than yours would be."

Danny laughed. "Keep bringing me Renee's cooking and that could change pretty quick." He gingerly reached for the table to pull it over his lap.

"There are easier ways to fatten yourself up without a hospital stay, you know."

"Now you tell me," Danny joked as he took a forkful of the food and closed his eyes in enjoyment as he chewed. "Delicious. I wish my mother had known how to cook like this."

"Clara's not a good cook?" Lou asked.

"Tuna fish sandwiches and spaghetti with ketchup were two of her top culinary specialties," Danny told him with a laugh before taking another bite.

"Eww. Where'd you learn how to cook then?" Danny wasn't a gourmet but he was more than a decent cook. He had heard him discuss recipes with Renee several times.

"Combination of insomnia and the Cooking Channel after the divorce. Didn't want to feed Grace takeout all the time."

"You're a good father." Lou and Danny weren't big on mushy talk or compliments but they both took fatherhood seriously. They had shared 'trade secrets' more than once. Danny's help and support after Samantha had been kidnapped had been invaluable to Lou, a debt he felt he never could repay.

Danny put the fork down, the depressive funk covering him like a shroud again. "How am I going to be a father to them if I can't move my arm? Forget about picking Charlie up or showing him how to make that sweet throw to first. How do I cook for them? How do I put Charlie in his car seat? How do I help Grace with her hair or fasten the bracelet she can't do by herself …"

Lou cut him off, his voice firm but sincere. "You do what you can one-handed man, IF it even comes to that, but you know as well as I do that being a good father doesn't come from what you can do with your hands. It comes from what's in your heart. Those kids know you love them, Danny. That's what's important. Everything else can be worked out."

Lou was right but it was so difficult to accept that he might not ever use that arm again. Tears filled Danny's eyes again. How many times could a grown man cry in one day? Intent on calming his nerves he took a deep breath that instead sent shockwaves through his back. He groaned in pain and pushed his head back into the pillows.

"Easy man. Easy," Lou told him. The combination of physical and emotional pain took a taxing toll on the body. "Why don't you use that pain pump?" Danny glared at him with hazy blue eyes. "Never mind, I know, you're Superman just like your partner."

The pain easing to a barely manageable level, Danny picked the fork up and began to eat again. "None for you?" he asked.

"Oh I ate already," Lou assured him. "You just got the leftovers." Lou loved being able to go home for lunch.

"Nothing interesting came in today?" If it had, Danny knew nobody would have had the time to go home for lunch, much less come and visit his sorry butt.

"Quiet as a mouse. Just putting some finishing touches on the paperwork for the whack-job who put you in here." He smiled as Danny finished the plate of food.

Danny nodded his head but said nothing. Those finishing touches were his specialty. Steve had even told him, while he was bleeding all over that classroom floor, that he was the one who would dot the i's and cross the t's on the whack-job's paperwork. But that was before they found out he might never be able to return to Five-O or even to a normal life. He guessed this was the new world order. Life would go on without him.

A/N I hope you're enjoying the roller-coaster ride of Danny's emotions. I actually feel everything Danny is going through before I put it on paper. I've discovered that writing this story is raising my blood pressure. My systolic rises about 15 points from before I sit down to write until after and my pulse is way too fast according to my med school son. That's a problem. It's slowing me down. So, I apologize for the slow posting but I'm doing what I can.

A/N Sorry for all the author's notes. I enjoyed writing Lou in this one. Not sure if I got him right though. I'm most comfortable with Danny and Steve (although I have yet to write a Danny rant anywhere near the level that Scott improv's them). Let me know if you want me to take a shot at writing some Chin and Kono.