Thank you so much for all the reviews!

Note to guest reviewer LR….so sorry about your brother and thank you for your kind comments. It is a hard subject matter and it was important to me to keep it fairly realistic. I wouldn't have even attempted this if I didn't have personal experience of dealing with people who are affected. Heroin addiction is a terrible thing. It might be bad choices and bad situations that ordinarily lead people to start using, but you can't necessarily judge a person for how they act once they are hooked because it twists the way you think to such an extent. I hope you see that reflected in this story. Sending you positive thoughts.

EUPHORIA

CHAPTER 10

Steve winced as a glass smashed off the wall not a million miles away from his head.

From his vantage point, leaning too-casually against his firmly closed bedroom door, he eyed the porcelain vase over on the bookshelf. It had been a wedding present to his parents. He really wished he'd thought to empty the room of breakables that he actually liked. He would go and move it out of harms' way, but leaving his post right now would be a bad plan.

"Y-you know what you are….?" Danny growled, the venom in his voice in no way tempered by the accompanying shakiness.

Steve didn't reply. He refused to rise to it, refused to argue, because this was not Danny. It wasn't his fault. Steve was making a conscious effort to channel any sparks of anger his partner's behaviour ignited strictly in the direction of Blake.

Danny paced around the limited space in the bedroom as he spoke. He was holding his head in both hands now, his movements jerky and frenetic. He was still weak as a kitten, white and shaky, but he could stand up and he could walk. He moved virtually constantly, restless and uneasy.

The intense physical pain was more sporadic now, but the need was every bit as bad as it had ever been. Heroin still had him firmly in its dark grasp.

This was when they had to watch him. In many ways, this was the hard part. It had been hell when Danny was so horribly sick but, now he was stronger, he had become a genuine flight risk. Four more days, Max thought, four more days until the worst had passed.

He slept a lot, thank goodness, but his mood swings between times were astonishing, bewildering to behold. He was beyond irritable, virtually unbearable one minute, then consumed with self-loathing and heartbreakingly vulnerable the next.

Danny didn't want to see anyone, didn't want comfort or platitudes or reassurances. Didn't want idle chat or any other sort of distraction for that matter. Steve's smashed DVD player was testament to that. Steve's constant presence rendered him an easy target for Danny's wrath, but he wasn't leaving. No way. He was going to see Danny through this if it killed him.

Danny hadn't even asked about Grace or Charlie- that was a measure of how severely the drug was affecting him on a fundamental level, his priorities all fucked to hell. Steve had talked to him about them, of course, trying to remind Danny what he had to fight for. He had told him that his family had been held at bay with a tale of a last minute team mission to…somewhere, he wasn't sure what Kono had come up with in the end. Somewhere with no cell reception anyway. Danny had listened to that at least, hadn't told him to shut up, but neither had he said a word. He blatantly didn't want to talk about them. Steve wasn't sure what to make of it and he didn't push the issue.

At that moment, Danny wobbled right up to Steve. He stopped inches away and glared at him for a moment before he looked away, shying away from the direct eye contact because…Steve could only speculate as to why.

"You, McGarrett, are a controlling, interfering, bastard and I actually hate you. I'm not surprised Catherine left you." His words were raw and vicious, his body radiating tension.

Not Danny, not Danny, not his fault, Steve reminded himself, biting back a knee-jerk response. He still winced because that actually hurt. Danny Williams had a sharp tongue when he was in a good frame of mind, not that it ever bothered Steve. Well, rarely. But like this….he was genuinely obnoxious. There was no teasing tone in his voice, no twinkle in his eye to temper the words. Right here and now, he really meant it. There was a blank fury in his expression that Steve had never seen before. He barely looked like the Danny he knew and loved. He was scruffy and unkempt. He refused to shave, refused to fix his hair, wouldn't let anyone else help him with the tasks. They didn't argue with him, there was no point. It would pass. It wasn't his fault.

Danny put his hands on his head again and turned a tight circle in front of Steve, before shouting out wordlessly in frustration and punching out, striking the wood of the door perilously close to Steve's stomach.

Steve didn't flinch.

Danny stood breathing heavily for a few seconds, then grimaced and sank slowly down to his knees, arm across his stomach. He bowed his head.

Steve's eyes followed him with concern, but he didn't dare step away from the door. He'd fallen for that before and he did not want a repeat of the undignified wrestling match that had followed his error in judgement. Neither of them had been up to that. It hadn't been pretty.

"You okay? You want me to get Max upstairs?"

But Danny wasn't finished, no matter what his body was doing to him right then. "No! That's…he…he doesn't have what I need. Will you just let me out? W-what gives you the right to keep me here! Keep me locked up in your fucking bedroom you freak… for what is it? Seven days?"

"About seven days, Max thinks.," said Steve, careful to keep his tone even and calm. "You've been here for three already. It's an estimate though. You're staying until the worst is by, however long that takes."

Danny looked up then, pain clearly showing on his face, but anger still outweighing it. "Oh and do I get a choice? Huh?" he hissed. "Do I not get a say in this? I'm y-you're prisoner? You're no better than Blake."

That was almost too much. Steve almost bit back. He stopped himself at the last moment, biting his lip, digging his nails into his palms. He took a couple of deep breaths before he replied. "We're on your side. And no, you don't get a choice."

Danny doubled over then, a strangled noise emanating from his mouth. His head hit the floor, both arms wrapped tight around his stomach.

"Danny?" Steve frowned, concern rising.

"S-Steve? I need...I need..shit. Please help me." And just like that, the fury was gone.

In a way, Steve found this harder to deal with than Angry Danny because he wanted to help him, he really did. It physically hurt him to have to watch his friend in pain like this, imploring with him to help. But the sort of 'help' Danny was after was not on the menu.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, then finally moved from his post, sinking to his knees beside his partner. He started to rub his back gently, soothingly. "I know Danny. It's gonna get better, okay? You don't need it."

Danny laughed a strained laugh, slightly muffled by the carpet. "Says you I don't need it. I feel like….Jesus it hurts, Steve."

Steve cringed at the desperate edge to Danny's tone. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'll get Max."

"No. Please don't leave me."

There was a weak, plaintive note in his voice which was so un-Danny like Steve wanted to scream. He did as he was asked, stayed exactly where he was, hand on Danny's shoulder, aching for his partner. "Buddy, I know this is hard, I can see it's hard. Just keep remembering why you're doing this, okay? You don't beat this, you'll lose everything. Think of Grace and Charlie, okay? You can do it."

Danny had to have been listening. He had to have heard. That was why his response made Steve cringe. "Maybe just…just a bit, just once, maybe take the edge off, huh?"

Steve shook his head. "You're a cop. You know how it works. You know if you go down that route there's no coming back. It's a slippery slope. That shit ruins lives. It's not going to ruin yours. I won't let it happen. You hear me?"

Danny didn't reply. Groaning, he straightened up onto his knees then, no warning, twisted round sharply, lurching towards the doorway.

For a second Steve thought he was going for the handle and he reached out to grab at him, but then Danny just turned and slumped against the door, head leaning back against the wood.

Heart still beating fast at the unexpected move, Steve shifted, sinking down beside him. They sat there, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Danny was breathing hard, his eyes now closed, wiped out by the last bout of cramps.

"I'm gonna kill Anthony Blake." Steve said, as much to himself as anything.

"He get away?" Danny mumbled, suddenly sounding more like himself than he had for days.

Steve clapped his knee gently. "Yeah. But we'll get him."

Danny snorted. "Crazy bastard. Dunno why he was so upset about Dobbs anyway." His voice was soft and slurred, exhaustion taking over.

Steve frowned and turned to him sharply. "Dobbs? Samuel Dobbs? Crazy knife guy? Why, what did Blake say?"

Danny shrugged dismissively. "Pissed that I'd killed him."

Steve stared at him. "Jesus, Danny, did he think you killed Dobbs? Is that what started this off? Was he punishing you?"

Danny shrugged again almost imperceptibly, now barely even awake.

"That's why he decided to shoot you up? But I killed Dobbs. You…you were protecting me? Danny, why didn't you tell him?"

"Would you have?" Danny mumbled.

Steve couldn't bring himself to answer. Jesus.

He felt Danny's head settle onto his shoulder and his partner's breaths began to even out. Steve's head was reeling. All this shit that had happened to Danny- it should have been him. At a total loss as to how to feel about what Danny had done, Steve simply reached down between them and took hold of Danny's lax hand. He squeezed it gently.

With considerable effort, he filed away the snippet of new information with everything else he had yet to deal with. This was not the time.

He closed his own eyes, drinking in this quiet moment with his partner where it almost felt like them. He knew it wouldn't last.

There you have it...please review :)