Thank you all once again for all the wonderful reviews!

This ones a bit longer and a bit angstier, but never fear, no death around here! Hopefully y'all will enjoy this one, so let me know!

"Who knows how long

I've been awake now?

The shadows on my wall don't sleep.

They keep calling me,

Beckoning…

Who knows what's right?

The lines keep getting thinner.

My age has never made me wise,

But I keep pushing on and on and on."

It was the dark circles under McGarrett's eyes that first tipped Danny off to the fact that not all was right with his partner.

It wasn't unusual to see the SEAL looking tired or worn down, especially in the middle of a long, emotionally trying investigation. It wasn't out of the ordinary for the man to live and breathe the case, leaving little time for anything else such as life-sustaining activities like sleep or food. And so had it been one of those times, the dark circles under his partner's eyes would have been part of the norm, just something to be dealt with when the case was over, the bad guys locked away.

But right now, nothing had been happening. It'd been an amazingly, wonderfully slow two weeks for Five-0. There had been minor cases here and there, but it seemed like everyone on the island was magically taking a break from robbing, kidnapping, or murdering each other and the most taxing thing any of them had done was paperwork.

So the general air of fatigue and stress that McGarrett had seemed to carry with him wherever he went for the past seven days sent alarm bells ringing in Danny's head and sent him marching into his partner's office, questions rolling off his tongue. "Alright, what's up with you? What's going on?"

It took two seconds for Steve to even look up and respond, and those were two seconds longer than normal, leaving Danny to file it away as more evidence of something being amiss. "What do you mean?"

"You. You're…" Danny waved his hand up and down, indicating his partner's general appearance. "You look tired."

"Brilliant observation, Captain Obvious. Where's your sidekick, Blatant Boy?"

Danny narrowed his eyes and sent a glare in Steve's direction. "Har har, very funny. You've proven you're a wiseass. Now tell me what's going on."

Steve shook his head, but Danny could read the lethargy in the movement. "Nothing. I was just up late last night, hence being tired."

Danny searched his partner's face for evidence of a lie but found none. "Up late doing what?"

Something flashed through McGarrett's eyes, but it was gone before Danny could even be really sure it had ever been there, let alone identify what it was. "Just couldn't sleep. It happens sometimes, you know."

"That's it? You just couldn't sleep?"

"That's it. Now will you go away please? Some of us actually have work to do around here."

"Please, you're just filling out request forms for a bigger firearm budget for the governor's office. That's hardly difficult work." At Steve's quirked eyebrow, Danny shrugged. "I over heard you talking to Chin earlier." After his partner nodded in understanding, the blonde returned to his earlier line of questioning. "So everything's fine? Nothing that we need to talk about? Because I'm here for you, you know."

That earned him a smile, albeit tired and slow. "I know, Danny. And it's much appreciated, but really everything's fine. I honestly just couldn't sleep last night. Now, I've seriously got to finish this or we're going to be out of ammunition by the end of the week." With that, McGarrett bent back over the paper work on his desk, leaving Danny with nothing else to do but cast an appraising look over his best friend's form, and leave in defeat.

Three days later, Danny was regretting his decision to leave it at that when McGarrett came in looking even worse than before. They had returned from a crime scene not too long before, and in the bright Hawaii light, the dark circles under the SEAL's eyes had become even more apparent, and, at one point, it had taken Chin repeating Steve's name three times before the man had even looked up. He'd thought it had just been his own over-protective imagination seeing things as being worse until Kono lightly knocked on his office door not too long after the team had gotten back. "Hey, you got a second? It's about Steve."

That got his attention immediately, and he motioned for Kono to take the seat across for him. "What's up?"

"Have you noticed something strange going on lately?" Even though Danny instantly thought he knew what she was talking about, he just looked at her and waited for her to continue in order to confirm. "He doesn't look like he's sleeping and he's jumpy. Like, just got back from North Korea jumpy—I think I scared him going into his office earlier. Well, maybe not scared him so much, but startled him and I could have sworn that his hand went to his gun for a moment…but then he acted completely normal, no problems, and when I asked him about it he said he was just—"

"Tired?" Danny cut in, hazarding a guess. "Crazy, he told me exactly the same time. The jumpy bit is new, but everything else is exactly what I got."

"Wait, so you did know something was going on? Why didn't you tell the rest of us?"

At that, Danny let out a short bark of laughter. "First of all, I don't know anything, and therein lies the problem. Mr. Fort Knox won't share with me what's going on, and though I tried my best to pry a few days ago, I got nada. Secondly, I don't share every single secret Steve tells me with the rest of you. In fact, I haven't ever shared something he told me without getting his permission first."

At that it was Kono's turn to laugh. "You do realize that made us sound like we're in high school, right?" She smiled once more and then turned serious. "And I didn't mean spill his deep secrets, but if there's something happening or he's in danger or whatever, the rest of us need to know."

"He's not doing anything reckless, as far as I know—well, more reckless than normal—if that's what you're implying."

Kono pierced him with a harsh look. "You know that's not what I mean. I trust McGarrett completely, and I know he's not going to do something that's going to put any of us in danger. I'm worried about him putting himself in danger and if that's the case, we need to be there to watch his back."

He held his hands up. "Okay, I'm sorry." His face softened and he repeated the apology. "I'm worried about him and taking it out on you."

"I know," she said with a smile, letting him know that all was forgiven. "It's what happens when you're concerned about someone you love." Then, after a pause she asked, "Do you want me to try talking to him again?"

Danny quickly shook his head. He glanced into Steve's office, the glass walls providing him perfect view of his fatigued partner agitatedly scribbling something on a notepad in front of him. From this distance, the bags under Steve's eyes were less noticeable but the overall set of the man's shoulders gave away just how fatigued he was. "No. He's clearly not in a sharing mood right now. I'll stop by his house later and figure it out though, come hell or high water."

It seemed like getting Steve to talk was going to be more hellish than anything later that night when Danny was standing on his partner's porch, ringing the doorbell yet again. After Danny's offer to drive McGarrett home was firmly rebuffed by the latter at the end of the workday, Steve had avoided all phone calls and text messages; now, it seemed that he was ignoring the door as well. Finally, Danny dropped his hand from the bell and pulled his key out. "Alright, Steven, you leave me no choice! I'm coming in!"

The first thing Danny noticed was how unclean everything in the McGarrett household had suddenly become, which went against everything Danny had ever learned about the military man. There were papers scattered everywhere, some of them wrinkled like they had been balled up and them rolled out again, and more than a few glasses congregating on the coffee table. A blanket was wadded up on the end of the sofa, not neatly folded and in its place like normal. As Danny moved further into the house, his disbelief grew: a shirt piled on the ground beside a pair of swim trunks, an empty takeout box perched precariously on the kitchen table, and more papers. There were papers everywhere.

He moved again, this time letting his feet take him to Steve's office and felt his eyes widen as he took in the normally immaculate space. A whiteboard had been set up behind the desk, lists and lists of numbers and equations written on it. There were more stacks of papers strewn about in here, and Danny thought all the room needed was some red yarn connecting surveillance photos to complete the new décor.

Deciding to grab one of the balls of paper off the floor to see exactly what was on it, he leaned down, fingers just about to skim it when his partner moved into the room, silent as a ghost. "Don't touch that."

Danny jerked up, hitting his head sharply on the corner of the desk, eyes watering immediately as he let out a curse. "What the hell, man? You have a whole Beautiful Minds thing going on in here and you're more worried about me picking up some trash?"

Steve just moved forward and picked up the piece of paper in front of the blond man, making it clear he was removing it from Danny's immediate grasp. "It's classified."

"Seriously? Seriously? It's classified? What the hell do you even mean? What is all this?" It was only then that Danny noticed the gun tucked in his partner's waistband and the pad of paper he had half hidden behind his back. "Why do you have your gun? What is going on?"

McGarrett sighed, and Danny could tell that it wasn't only his presence that was upsetting the man. Steve looked more exhausted than he had a few hours before, if that was possible, and he didn't seem to be able to form a coherent sentence. "It's—I can't…I just can't."

"You can't what?" Danny a step towards his friend, aiming to push him into the desk chair a few feet away, but stopped when Steve flinched in response. Holding his hands up to indicate he meant no harm, Danny stepped back once more. "Steve, buddy, talk to me. What the hell is going on with you?"

Something in Danny's voice must have broken through whatever haze the SEAL was in, for his shoulders suddenly dropped, and then he backed up and sat in the chair of his own volition. "I'm working on a project for the Navy."

"The Navy?"

"For Naval Intelligence," McGarrett responded after a moment. "They needed a code broken, and then an algorithm, and then…" He trailed off into silence, and Danny's worry spiked at this uncommon behavior from his best friend. He moved forward and knelt down in front of his partner, lightly placing his hands on the other man's knees. Steve flinched again, but this time Danny didn't move away.

"How long have you been working on this?" Steve's eyes slid closed and so Danny squeezed his knee. "Steve, how long?"

"About two and a half weeks."

Danny closed his eyes for a moment, internally berating himself that he hadn't picked up on anything strange going on with McGarrett sooner. Sure, he'd noticed the man leaving the office earlier than usual and hadn't answered all of Danny's calls, but Danny had been dealing with an issue with Grace at school and had been too preoccupied to call him out on it. He shook his head, clearing away the guilt for a moment, and turned back to the matter at hand. "Okay, but you didn't start looking like shit until a few days ago. What happened?"

"Told you, haven't been sleeping."

"You haven't been sleeping well, or you haven't been sleeping period? How long have you been awake?"

Steve opened his eyes, bleary as they were, and tipped his head to the side. "What day is it?"

"Thursday."

"I slept some of Monday night."

Danny's eyebrows jumped way up as he did the math in his head. "You've been awake for 72 hours? Shit, McGarrett, you need to sleep. Right now—let's go, upstairs." He stood up, ignoring the popping in his own joints, and moved to pull his partner out of the chair, to force him up the stairs, but Steve shrank back and shook his head.

"Can't—all the shadows. The shadows don't sleep," the SEAL murmured. "If they don't stand down, neither can I."

"You're not making any sense, babe. Come on, let's just get upstairs, and I'll take care of the shadows, 'kay?" Steve shook his head once, but nonetheless let himself be pulled up, pushed up the stairs, and pressed to sit on the corner of his bed. He just sat there, though, unmoving once more and staring into nothingness until Danny came forward and held out his hands. "Give me your gun, and the pad. I'll keep watch, okay?" McGarrett looked at him suspiciously for the moment, but then finally relinquished the possessions, and Danny couldn't help but compare the man in front of him to Grace when she sleepwalked; he'd never actually met someone who had stayed awake for that long, who could stay awake for that long, but apparently it gave one the same drugged, dopey quality that his daughter had the times he'd found her unconsciously conscious.

Shaking his head, Danny set the items on the bedside table and then grabbed his partner's legs off the floor and swung them onto the bed, forcing him into a horizontal position. "Go to sleep. It'll be okay, all right? Just get some rest."

Steve shook his head once more, but his eyes were already sliding closed, and Danny moved back to sit in the armchair that occupied the far side of the room. But just as Danny sat down, the SEAL's body tensed and he forced his eyes open, gaze darting wildly around the room before they landed on Danny. He seemed to nod to himself and closed his eyes once more, only to repeat the process after a few moments later. After the third time, Danny stood back up and approached the bed once more. "Hey, I'm not going anywhere, got it?" He couldn't find it in his heart to be his usual snarky self or even the toned-down version that sometimes emerged after his partner had been injured; it was simply too distressing to see his best friend so completely out of it, so completely unnerved by whatever he was imagining in the room with him.

So, in an uncharacteristically affectionate manner, he reached forward and smoothed some hair back off of Steve's face like he would for Grace after a bad dream, and then brought his hand down and squeezed McGarrett's shoulder. "Go to sleep, soldier."

"Sailor," Steve automatically corrected, his voice low and slightly slurred. "Soldiers for the Army."

"I know, I know. Get some sleep then, sailor. That's an order."

The SEAL's eyes fell shut once more, and this time when they stayed shut after more than a few minutes, Danny stood up and moved back to the chair, grabbing the notepad on the way. As he sat down, he flipped open the cover to the first page, and was immediately taken aback to see math. Copious amounts of math and equations that he couldn't even come close to understanding. There was a row of letters at the top of the page, but some of them had been crossed out multiple times, a few circled with arrows pointing down the page to something scrawled so quickly Danny couldn't even make out what it said. He flipped further through the notebook and found much of the same, realizing that whatever code needed breaking, whatever algorithm needed writing, it had taken a lot of work—the notepad was almost full. How his partner had managed to even get all of this done whilst working full time was beyond him—it was really no wonder that the man had stopped sleeping.

The Jersey detective closed the notebook after a few more moments, recognizing that he couldn't actually decipher anything in there, that all he could do was sit at marvel at his partner's skill for code-breaking and intelligence that he had hitherto unappreciated, that it wasn't actually going to give him clues to help fix his best friend in any meaningful way. Instead, he stood up and placed it back on the nightstand quietly, before moving just outside the room into the hallway so he could call Kono and update her, while simultaneously keep an eye on the occupant of the room.

She answered on the third ring, the concern in her voice apparent. "Did you talk to him?"

"Yeah, I'm here right now," he responded quietly.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Well he's finally asleep, so—"

"Finally? What's going on, Danny?"

"It's a long story, the details of which I'm not actually sure I'm allowed to share, considering I'm not sure he was even supposed to tell me. But it's the Navy, and when the Navy gets involved, Steve gets…" He trailed off, not sure of what adjective he was necessarily looking for.

"Difficult?" Kono supplied.

"Something like that. Anyway, I don't think either of us is going to be at work tomorrow. With any luck, he's not going to wake up until the weekend and I'm going to keep an eye on him. Think you can manage without us?"

"Somehow I think we'll manage," she replied drily, before adding, "You sure he's okay?"

Quickly Danny glanced at the man on the bed, whose chest was still rising and falling steadily in sleep. "When is he ever actually okay? But yes, in this case, I think all he really needs is sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. "

"Okay. Just keep me posted, yeah?"

He rolled his eyes a little, smirking to himself at the motherly tone in her voice, but promised her he would. After hanging up the phone, he checked the clock on his phone—it was still early enough that he didn't feel like going to sleep, but late enough that he didn't feel like putting in the effort to find a way to entertain himself. Shrugging to himself, he walked back into McGarrett's bedroom, grabbed the notebook back off the nightstand out of sheer curiosity, reclined the armchair, and settled in for a long night.

In the end, Danny was right. For once, Steve had seemingly listened to him and didn't end up waking up until Saturday afternoon. He still looked like week-old road kill, but the lucidity was back in his eyes, and for Danny that was enough.

The blonde had been sitting in the armchair next to the bed, flipping through McGarrett's notebook again when the SEAL's blue eyes cracked open. Danny had been so absorbed in looking at the math on the page—once more realizing that his partner was a hell of a lot smarter and a hell of a lot more talented at intelligence matters than he ever gave him credit for—that he didn't realize Steve had even woken up until he heard a slight groan from the bed. Immediately his eyes flew up and he cocked his head to the side as he observed his friend blink lazily and look around, confused. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Sleeping Beauty."

"Danny?"

"The one and only. How're you feeling?"

Steve closed his eyes again, and then shrugged his shoulders as best he could while lying down. "I don't know. How should I be feeling?"

"Well, still pretty shitty I'd imagine, but better than before."

"Before?" McGarrett brought a hand up to his face and rubbed at his eyes. "What happened before? Why is everything fuzzy?" His brow furrowed further. "What day it is?"

"It's Saturday, my dear friend, and you feel so fuzzy because you spent more time awake than any human should ever do." At his partner's continually questioning look, Danny elaborated. "Navy project? Your algorithm? Staying awake for most of the week? Starting to ring any bells in that thick skull of yours?" Then as he saw comprehension dawn on Steve's face, he smiled wryly. "There it is. All coming back, I take it?"

"Shit," was all the SEAL said, rubbing a hand once more over his face. "Shit."

"You've been asleep since Thursday night." Danny's slightly jaunty tone fell slightly at this, and he was sure Steve could detect the concern in his voice. "I thought about waking you up, but you were so out of it before that…" He trailed off and waved his hand around, forgetting about the notebook in his hand as he did so. Steve didn't, however, and his gaze was immediately drawn there.

"How'd you get that?"

"You had it—and your gun, I might add—in your possession when I found you Thursday night, and wouldn't let it go until I promised to keep watch. I was just flipping through it for the sake of it—don't worry, I don't understand anything in it."

At that last comment, Steve relaxed slightly. "How much did I say?"

"Not enough for me to really know what you're working on, but enough to know that you've been working on something for the Navy. Don't fret, you didn't spill any classified secretes to me and all this math in here…well, let's just say math was never my specialty in school. Your secrets are safe. Yours and the Navy's, anyway. Although you and I should probably talk about some of your behavior these past few days."

McGarrett laughed quietly, nodded and breathed out deeply, finally looking calmer. Then he suddenly sat up, eyes wide. "Shit, is it really Saturday?"

Danny nodded, brow creasing in confusion. "Yes, it's really Saturday. Why?"

McGarrett immediately started scrambling out of bed, reaching for the notebook in Danny's hand before the latter had even truly processed what was happening. "I was supposed to have this to the Navy by tonight."

"What? It's the weekend, for crying out loud! Even the Navy takes the weekend off!"

"It's not the day, it's the date that they need it by." McGarrett said quickly, flipping through the notebook once before immediately moving towards the doorway. "You can stay and we can talk later if you want, but right now I have to get this done, okay?"

Danny couldn't do anything but nod, suddenly feeling very grim as he watched his partner walk down the stairs. There wasn't any specific reason why, no one thing that made his mood suddenly turn, but a weight had settled into his chest as he stood up there in the empty bedroom. Maybe it was because he had just pulled his partner back from the brink of whatever abyss this project had sent him into, or maybe it was because he could never keep his best friend from going back to the Navy—and the Navy always seemed to mean trouble, heartache and loss for the man. For all of them, in one way or another. Whatever the cause, the blonde suddenly felt as unsure of the future as he had when he had knocked on his partner's door days ago.

But unlike a few days ago, now he understood more of what was going on, so with a sigh he heaved himself out of the chair and made his way downstairs, prepared to prepare something for McGarrett to eat. He was going to make sure the other man at least kept up what little strength he had gained whilst working out those crazy good math skills of his.

By early evening, Danny had watched Steve scratch out line after line in his notebook, had watched him puzzle over something on his laptop, had watched the frustration mount as whatever he was doing wasn't working the way it was supposed to.

Finally, right before Danny was about to suggest that the SEAL take a break, a grin broke out on Steve's face. At this, Danny's eyebrows raised and he quickly interjected. "Something worked out, I take it?"

McGarrett's head jerked up sharply, and it was clear that he had forgotten Danny's presence for the moment. "What? Oh, yeah." Then the grin grew bigger as he plugged something into his computer and it appeared to do whatever it was Steve wanted. "Yeah, it's finally working. I had this one equation that was really throwing me for a loop, but I finally got it worked out…" He trailed off, placing his pen in his mouth as his focus shifted away from the conversation and back to whatever was on his screen.

After a few seconds, Danny lost patience. "So does this mean you're done?"

"Hmmm?"

"This—the smile and the general air of ease you've suddenly adopted. Does this mean you're done and can send it off to the Navy and be a healthy, normal, sleeping person again?"

It took a few seconds for Steve's eyes to come away from the lines of code before him, but finally he met his partner's eyes. "Um, yes, actually. I just have to polish it up, email it to my boss securely, and then I'm good to go."

"Thank God," Danny said under his breath, before standing up and stretching slightly. "Well, why you do that, I'm going to go find us two beers in celebration of your return to normalcy. Then again, you weren't very normal to begin with…" His joke fell on deaf ears, though, seeing as Steve had already turned back to the computer screen, sucked into the Naval world once more.

Shaking his head in slight amusement, Danny moved into the kitchen, unsure if he really wanted to have the talk with his partner he had indicated earlier. He still wanted to know what had been going on in his partner's mind, what he had been seeing on that night, but was suddenly afraid that broaching that would open up another can of worms for the other man, and Danny didn't want to be the reason his friend didn't sleep tonight.

In the end, though, it was Steve that solved his dilemma for him.

Danny had decided to scrounge something up for dinner while he was in the kitchen and had ended up spending longer in there than he had thought—after a while, the SEAL walked in with a curious look on his face, one that cleared up only when he noticed the spatula in Danny's hand. "You're making dinner."

"Astute observation, Steven. No wonder the Navy keeps hiring you to do things for them."

"You're hilarious, Williams." McGarrett paused for the moment, reached to pick up the beer Danny had left sitting on the counter for him, and then pushed forward. "You wanted to talk." It was phrased as a question, but Danny could hear the underlying question—and uncertainty—in it.

"Only if you want to."

The SEAL shrugged noncommittally, and wandered over to the window. "I'm assuming you already saw some fucked up stuff, so there's not much else for me to be embarrassed about, I guess."

"Why would you be embarrassed?" He paused for a minute. "How much do you even remember?"

"Enough to know that you saw things you shouldn't have, not enough to remember exactly what."

"The only thing I saw was you being generally paranoid and clearly seeing some things that have haunted you for a while. Probably things you should have never had to experience in the first place."

That brought Steve's attention back to Danny immediately, the taller man whirling around with a slightly open mouth as though he didn't know how to respond. And Danny was sure that he wasn't, that he wasn't sure how to react to someone frankly and openly expressing guilt for the things he had been put through. After a moment, though, he seemed to find a way to vocalize the look on his face. "I'm a SEAL, Danny. I saw the worst of humanity every day for years, and am still working to fight against it—that's what this algorithm was all about."

"I'm not saying that that's not a noble cause and you know I think you're a badass Super SEAL who seems to have singlehandedly saved the world a few times over—but thinking that you've devoted your life to an incredibly worthy cause, and feeling sadness at what you've been exposed to are two different things. Just because you're a soldier—"

"Sailor," McGarrett interjected.

"Just because you're a sailor, and a damned good one at that, doesn't mean that it doesn't bother me to know that you have so many demons haunting you from your past. You were seeing someone last night, something that wouldn't let you sleep because you had to watch out for them. I'm not belittling what you've done for our country, it just is heartbreaking to know that you never came back from over there whole."

"I'm fine," McGarrett retorted quickly, turning back towards the window and placing his hands on the counter, allowing Danny to see the tense set of his shoulders. "It was just a lack of sleep. I'm fine."

"And I don't hate my ex-wife's lawyer. See, I can spit out lies too. You may be embarrassed by your antics the other night, but I'm mostly just concerned about you and what you have to deal with. Curious, as to whom you were seeing, but mostly just sad that it all weighs down on you and I can't do a damned thing to help. It's not some physical injury that I can drag you to the ER for—this shit comes from memories of terrible times that I know nothing about and can do nothing for."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment, and Danny was suddenly worried that he had gone too far, been too open about his feelings, and was about to open his mouth to apologize for whatever he could think of apologizing for when the SEAL spoke instead. "They're the men I couldn't save. The ones I had to leave behind."

"What?"

"That's who I was seeing last night. It was, they were…I lost them. They were my men and they died on my watch. My promise to them when it, ah, happened was that I would watch out for them, for their families—I've tried my best, but sometimes things fall through the cracks, you know?" All of this was said with Steve pointedly looking at the floor.

Suddenly, Steve's words the other night about keeping watch made so much more sense, and even though all Danny wanted to do at that moment was comfort his best friend, give him something good to hold onto, he knew that McGarrett wasn't looking for pity or anything that would come close in his mind. He was only sharing because Danny demanded of it of him, time and time again, and there seemed to be something on the SEAL's face that bespoke of an obligation to the Jersey detective to share, to explain. So instead of moving closer and pulling the taller man into a hug he seemed to so desperately need, Danny did what his best friend wanted instead and simply said, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Nothing he was going to say was going to make his best friend's burden lighten, not when he had placed it so firmly on his own shoulders. So instead Danny was just going to do anything and everything within his power to make it better in the ways that he could. "I, for one, don't think that you've not fulfilled your promise or any of that, but I'm guessing that whatever I say isn't really going to change your mind on the matter. I'm not going to bug you about it and you're going to deal with in it your own way, and come to me if you ever want to discuss any of this more, because now I know and it's not this thing to have to hide. But I know you, and if I push you any more, you're going to get all pissy and then we'll fight, and I'd really just like a nice evening with my best friend. Hence: Okay. How about a beer to celebrate you finally being done with all the shit for the Navy?"

There was a beat of silence, one in which Danny could feel the gratitude coming his way. Finally, after another moment, Steve replied with a somewhat shy smile. "That sounds amazing."

"Good. Just do one thing for me, all right?"

"What's that?"

He knew that both of them had reached their limit of emotional sharing for the day, and so Danny smiled widely and said, "Next time the Navy comes calling, get some damn sleep, alright? You're terrible to deal with otherwise."

The next story will be up next week, and will hopefully satisfy all with both whump and angst!

Charlotte