A/N: Been working up to this point for a little while now. I had a very particular way I envisioned this going, and I think I mostly got it the way I wanted it. xD Minus a few minor details.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Katsumoto wasn't sure when Ivan had arrived; the sound of the door must have been lost in the more immediate sounds of the scuffle that had just ended. He couldn't formulate a response just yet, his breath still coming in painful gasps as he struggled to get it back under control.

His eyes darted back and forth, searching for some way to get control of the situation, but there was no obvious way out. The gun the henchman had been holding was somewhere he couldn't see, probably under the workbench or scooped up by Ivan when he'd walked in. If Magnum was in even a little better shape, Katsumoto had no doubt the P.I. would take the first opportunity to rush Ivan. However, Katsumoto thought as he glanced past their captor to where Magnum was half-leaning against the chair, there was no way that was going to happen.

At least Magnum was still conscious, which could theoretically help if they had an opening, but there was one very big problem with that. Katsumoto's quick glance in the other man's direction told him Magnum was not doing well. On top of everything else that had happened since he'd been taken prisoner, he'd now been shot, and there was no way for Katsumoto to tell how bad the wound was from the current distance.

A wave of guilt crashed over him; he'd done his best to keep the gun pointed away from his friend, but it appeared he'd failed. All it took was one mistake for things to end badly, and that put them in a less than ideal position. Magnum might survive the gunshot if he got help in time, but there was no doubt Ivan would exploit the situation and make things worse.

Magnum looked up just then and met Katsumoto's gaze. Their eyes locked, and Magnum's pained expression seemed to soften just a little, just before a flash of something else crossed his face.

Katsumoto tilted his head. He'd known Thomas Magnum for too long not to recognize that look. Magnum had a plan… Now, just what that plan was and if it would actually work were two other questions entirely. But, for as many problems as Katsumoto might have with Magnum's methods, there was no denying the other man's harebrained schemes worked more times than they didn't.

The only problem was they usually involved Magnum doing something extremely stupid. And, while that was problematic enough under normal circumstances, the current situation was far from normal. Even when Magnum had landed himself in the hospital going after his ex on that stolen truck, he'd been in one piece before he'd literally leaped into harm's way. This time, he'd already be starting from "should have been in the hospital hours ago," and that made things exponentially more dangerous.

Katsumoto gave a slight shake of his head, trying to veto whatever idea Magnum had. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't need to. Meanwhile, he could tell Magnum was trying to silently communicate something, but then Ivan spoke up and pulled Katsumoto's attention back to the criminal standing over them.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. I see you didn't get too bored without me." Ivan kept his gun pointed at Katsumoto but glanced back toward Magnum.

The moment Ivan's attention was off him, Katsumoto made his move. He'd already sized up the distance and calculated what it would take to tackle the other man. If he moved fast enough, Katsumoto stood a chance of disarming the criminal and putting an end to the whole situation. And even if he didn't, he at least gave Magnum a fighting chance of escaping.

He gritted his teeth at the pain that surged through his side and into his head as he pushed off the ground. Although he knew he had at least one busted rib, whatever he was dealing with could wait until later. He had one concern at the moment, and that was taking Ivan down before the man could hurt anyone again.

Ivan had barely turned at the flash of movement before Katsumoto tackled him. The detective let his weight carry them forward and downward, and they hit the ground hard.

Even though he landed on top of the other man, Katsumoto still felt the shock of all of his weight coming down against an unforgiving surface. The pain in his side, already throbbing at the quick movement of him jumping up, seemed to explode, and Katsumoto bit down on a groan of pain and forced himself to pay attention to the fight at hand. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

Ivan quickly recovered from the surprise attack. Uninjured, his response time was much quicker than Katsumoto's, and he simultaneously shifted his weight and brought a hand up to bury it in the detective's injured side.

The move worked, and Katsumoto's yell of pain was interrupted as he landed on his back and all the air left his lungs at once. Ivan had rolled and was now straddling Katsumoto as the detective choked on the sudden shortness of breath from the sharp hit to his side.

"Don't let him get that gun up!" The only thought Katsumoto seemed able to latch onto was screaming at him, instinct taking over and reminding him of how badly things could end if he didn't control the situation. He had to at least hold out long enough for Magnum to get out of their prison; whatever happened after that happened, but Katsumoto could at least distract Ivan for a little longer.

In his peripheral vision, Katsumoto could see Magnum drawing his legs up under him, but then his view was interrupted by a savage blow to his chin that sent him reeling. He would've been flat on the ground if he hadn't already been. As it was, his vision went gray and spotty from the punch he'd taken, and Katsumoto could feel the darkness starting to close in on him.

The thought of what might happen if he lost the fight flashed through his mind, and Katsumoto gritted his teeth and willed himself to stay awake. He couldn't give in, not yet. He knew Magnum was still just on the other side of the struggle happening on the floor; the other man was in pretty bad shape, and it would take time for him to make it to his feet and out the door.

Shaking his head to clear it, Katsumoto forced himself to focus on his opponent. Ivan still had complete control of the gun, and he was just pulling it up to aim it at Katsumoto's chest.

The detective threw his hands up and latched onto Ivan's right hand, scrambling for control of the weapon. He seemed to have caught Ivan by surprise and was successfully able to force the barrel away from himself. He was hyper-aware of where it was pointed this time, and he pushed it toward the ceiling, trying at the same time to wrench it from Ivan's grasp. If he could apply enough pressure to the other man's wrist, Ivan would have no choice but to release his grip — and then, with any luck, Katsumoto would be able to gain control of the gun and put an end to the criminal's plans.

There was more movement from Magnum's direction, but Katsumoto had no time to even glance that way. Ivan was slowly but surely winning the struggle. Katsumoto could feel his arms trembling and his muscles failing him, and he clenched his jaw and drew on everything he could to keep going. The pain in his side and head were now roaring in the background, making him feel nearly numb at the energy he was having to exert, and it still wasn't enough.

Katsumoto could feel his resistance starting to fail. He pushed everything else to the back of his mind and brought a leg up in an attempt to knock Ivan off-balance, but the other man didn't budge.

He was practically looking down the barrel of the gun now, and he tried to gather what strength he had left, but he just couldn't manage to fight it any longer…

A shot rang out, echoing off the concrete floor.

Katsumoto realized four things in quick succession: he was holding his breath, nothing hurt, the gun in his face wasn't smoking… and it hadn't actually gone off.

He met Ivan's gaze. The other man looked as shocked as Katsumoto felt.

And then, almost in slow motion, Ivan slumped backward.

Katsumoto caught sight of the red stain on the criminal's shirt and turned to look behind him, his shocked thoughts struggling to keep up with the sudden turn of events.

Magnum was still on the floor by the chair, but he'd pushed to his knees in a half-seated, half-slouched position. His right arm was outstretched, braced against the overturned piece of furniture, a gun clenched in his hand.

Their eyes met, and Magnum gave Katsumoto a small nod before collapsing.

As much as he wanted to rush over to Magnum, Katsumoto knew he needed to clear the potential threat Ivan posed before he did anything else. It took a few long, painful moments to extricate himself from the dead weight pinning his legs to the floor before he could move, then he clenched his jaw and forced himself to his feet. Everything hurt, but he couldn't stop to think about any of his injuries just yet.

He put his fingers to Ivan's neck, trying to find a pulse, but there was none — a fact Katsumoto couldn't say he was sorry about. He grabbed the other man's weapon and tucked it in the back of his waistband, eyes darting toward the door as he did so. At least one other criminal was still on the loose, and the last thing Katsumoto needed was to be caught unawares by Ivan's second hired gun.

With that done, he quickly checked Ivan for a phone. Any hopes he had of calling for help were dashed when there was no device to be found. With a small huff, Katsumoto glanced over at where the first criminal he'd fought was still lying, then he pushed to his feet with a groan and limped over to check the unconscious man's pockets.

Again, he came up empty, and Katsumoto frowned. Magnum needed an ambulance immediately, but it looked like Katsumoto would have to go in search of a phone to make that happen.

Katsumoto glanced around the room, then sighed again and squared his shoulders. The next order of business would be finding a way to call for help, but he needed to make sure Magnum wasn't about to die on him in the meantime. He could give a much more accurate description of their predicament when he called it in if he knew the other man's condition.

"Magnum? Hey, come on. Stay with me," he urged, wincing as his side and head protested as he kneeled down.

From where he was lying on the ground, hand pressed to his side, the injured man's eyes flicked up and met the detective's gaze. "Is he…?"

"Yeah," Katsumoto replied, nodding quickly as he looked the other man over. The most obvious injuries were visible, but Katsumoto knew there was a lot more to it. Magnum's breathing sounded rough and laborious, and the detective frowned. They needed to get to a hospital — and fast. "You got him. How are you feeling?" he asked as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. He winced at the movement but continued to quickly pull off the piece of clothing.

Magnum started to chuckle, but the laugh was cut off by a cough that seemed to echo through his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pain crossed his face, and he was clearly trying to fight against the coughing, but to no avail.

Quickly, Katsumoto reached over to press his wadded-up shirt against the still-bleeding wound in Magnum's side. The other man had released the pressure he had been holding on it when the coughs had started racking his body, and now his cough choked off in a hiss of protest at the increase in pain from the fresh pressure.

Katsumoto winced in sympathy but didn't let up. "Hey, I know, but I can't have you bleeding out on me."

Magnum made a face but didn't reply. The coughing fit had subsided, and he was now panting shallowly, his eyes still closed and his hands clenched in fists against the floor.

He was in no shape to move, Katsumoto knew, and the detective bit his lip in thought as he glanced around the room. They needed to get out of their prison; Magnum needed a doctor immediately. The problem was that Katsumoto either had to try to carry the man out or would have to leave him alone and go find a way to call for help — and he wasn't sure Magnum would be able to keep adequate pressure on his side if left alone.

The blood was already soaking through the shirt in Katsumoto's fist, and he frowned in frustration — frustration that he couldn't just solve the problem, that there was no easy way out, that Ivan's guys had gotten the jump on him in the first place. He took a breath, careful not to aggravate his own injuries by breathing too deeply, and glanced down to check on the now-ruined shirt he had pressed against the bullet wound.

"Go," Magnum said hoarsely, weakly lifting a hand to where Katsumoto was staunching the blood flow. "There's gotta be… a phone… nearby."

"I'm not leaving you," Katsumoto retorted, refusing to release the responsibility of keeping pressure on the injury. There was no way Magnum would be able to hold the shirt tightly enough in his current condition.

Magnum licked his lips, and it looked like he wanted to say more but just couldn't summon the strength to form the words. His face and shirt were soaked with sweat, and he looked even paler than he had a few moments before.

But then, just as he looked like he was about to say more, the door clanged as it started to open again.

Katsumoto immediately reached for the gun on the ground by Magnum's hand. With his left hand still firmly pressing down on the shirt, he gripped the pistol in his right and brought it up to bear on the door. He didn't know what the remaining criminal had heard from the ruckus that had gone on during the fight and subsequent shooting, but there was no way the other man was coming in unarmed. Katsumoto was going to have a very narrow window to take control of the situation when the man first walked in, or things were not going to end well — and he was not about to let that happen.

The figure who stepped through the door was partially obscured by the sunlight coming in around him, and Katsumoto squinted to make out the details of the man. He could see the gun held in the newcomer's hands, but that was about the only thing he could tell for sure. The headache pounding behind his temples certainly didn't help matters.

"Whoa, Gordon! Hey, don't shoot!"

Katsumoto frowned at the familiar voice, trying to place it.

"It's Rick!" came the voice again. "It's just me; everything's good."

Katsumoto felt his adrenaline-charged muscles relax ever so slightly. Disbelief coursed through him, followed by a rush of relief close on its heels. He could see Rick more clearly now as the other man moved in front of the light, and that was all the detective needed.

He quickly dropped the gun and turned back to put as much pressure as possible on Magnum's side. It felt like the bleeding hadn't stopped yet, and he was well beyond concerned.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Rick's questions were all tumbling together as the man rushed over and dropped down next to Katsumoto.

The detective shook his head and looked over at Rick. He could hear more footsteps and didn't even have to look to know T.C. and Higgins were there as well.

"Here, let me." Rick nudged Katsumoto out of the way and took over holding the pressure against Magnum's side. "Sit down, Gordon; you don't look so good yourself."

Katsumoto wanted to protest Rick's words, but he was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion and couldn't find the energy to argue.

There were hands on his shoulders then, and he looked over to see T.C. helping him sit back.

"Just take it easy," the bigger man urged. "You good? Anything we need to take care of right now?" His hands were on Katsumoto's side, eliciting a hiss of pain from the detective at the pressure on his busted ribs. "Are you hit?"

Katsumoto blinked and looked down, noticing for the first time the blood smeared on his white t-shirt and realizing what the other man was doing. "No, I'm fine," he said, batting away T.C.'s hand. "It's not mine."

"Ambulance is on its way." Higgins hurried over to join them, and Katsumoto could hear the worry in her voice that she was clearly trying to hide. "How are they?"

Rick glanced over at Katsumoto before looking up at Higgins. "They both need that ambulance," was all he said.

Katsumoto wanted to point out that Magnum needed it and that they didn't need to tie up resources for him, but he was suddenly finding it harder and harder to concentrate past the pounding in his head. The figures around him were fading in and out of focus. He blinked hard and shook his head, but the room continued to swim around him.

Hands he knew were T.C.'s gently pushed him back, helping him lie down, and he didn't fight them.

"Hey, we got it from here, man. You're okay," T.C. assured him.

As much as he still wanted to object to the attention being paid to him when there was someone who needed help more, Katsumoto just couldn't find the strength to argue. He shut his eyes and took a shallow breath as he let T.C. help him all the way back. Around him, he could hear the others talking worriedly and the distant sound of helicopter rotors, but he didn't open his eyes.

He could trust his friends to take care of things and finally let himself relax.

T.C. was pretty sure he had broken every traffic law in existence on the way to the address Kumu had been given, but he'd somehow managed to make it without getting pulled over. Whether that was because he'd gotten lucky or because Palima had called in a favor on their behalf, T.C. wasn't sure and didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that they made it in as little time as possible.

But as fast as they had gone then, time seemed to have slowed down to the barest of crawls ever since they'd found their friends in dire straits.

T.C. sighed and shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair as he looked around the waiting room. Rick and Higgins were on his left, Kumu on his right, and a few other strangers waiting on news of their own on the other side of the room. He checked his watch and bit back a groan of frustration. They'd been waiting for far too long, and he needed to know how Thomas and Gordon were doing. The image of what they'd found when they'd stormed into that building was seared into his memory and only served to make him more anxious to know everything was going to be okay. After all of the time it had taken to finally find their friends, the last thing T.C. wanted was to wait even longer for news on how they were doing.

The others looked as worried as T.C. felt, although they were hiding that worry to varying degrees. But he knew his friends, and he knew they were all concerned about how things were going behind the doors where they'd been forbidden access.

Palima had stopped by the hospital shortly after they'd all arrived. The young detective had arrived at the scene just before the medevac chopper, and he'd just nodded to the three friends then and told them to go on ahead. He would catch up to them later, he'd said. And, true to his word, he had. He'd taken their statements in the hospital waiting area — and been especially interested in Kumu's tale of the mysterious stranger in the white SUV.

They hadn't been able to offer him much more information, though, and he'd headed out to question the kidnapper Katsumoto had bested in the fight. The man had come to just in time for HPD to slap cuffs on him at the scene, and Palima had assured the others he'd update them when he could.

So now, they waited, hoping they would see Ethan walk into the waiting room at any moment and hoping he'd only have good news for them.

"I'll take good care of him, I promise," the doctor's words rang in T.C.'s ears, and he clenched his jaw and forced himself to believe them.

Thomas had more lives than a cat, and this case would be no exception. He'd live to tell the tale of yet another scenario that should've taken him down but that he'd conquered instead. There was no other option.

The look Rick gave him when the other man looked over and caught T.C.'s gaze said he was thinking the same thing. They'd known Thomas Magnum for a long time, and they'd both been through some of the worst things imaginable with the man. Their friend was a fighter, and they both knew it.

Still, it felt like yet another eternity had passed before Ethan's tall, familiar form stepped into the room.

Kumu noticed him first and elbowed Rick in the seat beside her, who gently nudged Higgins where she'd fallen asleep on T.C.'s shoulder. The younger woman rubbed the sleep from her eyes and jumped up to meet Ethan with a hug as soon as he got closer to the small group.

"Hey," Ethan told her, shifting the clipboard in his hand to return the embrace. He looked up to see the others watching him anxiously and gave them a small, reassuring smile as his left hand patted his girlfriend's back comfortingly.

"How is he?" Higgins asked as she released him and stepped back slightly. She kept a hand on his arm as her eyes searched his face in concern. It was as if she was trying to tell from his expression what the news about Magnum was. "Is he…" she trailed off.

Ethan gave her a small smile. "He's in recovery right now," he told her, glancing from Higgins to the others. "The surgery was a success; we were able to remove the bullet without any complications, and I'm confident he'll make a full recovery. Of course, that's going to take some time, but Thomas is strong; I have no doubt he'll make it."

Clearing his throat, Rick spoke up then. "What about everything else?" He didn't have to specify; they'd all seen the numerous other injuries their friend carried, and the car battery sitting on one of the worktables in the room where they'd found Thomas and Gordon hadn't escaped anyone's notice.

Ethan sighed and gave a slight nod. "We've done what we can for now. Thomas did sustain a number of injuries during his ordeal, but we're treating what we can. The rest is just going to be a bit of a waiting game until he wakes up."

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed the doctor's words. T.C. exchanged a glance with Rick. Try as he might to put on a confident expression, T.C. knew he wasn't fooling Rick, just as the other man wasn't fooling him. They both knew how worried the other was, but they also knew how much of a fighter their injured friend was. T.C. just hated that they had to be reliving this experience yet again; the number of times Thomas had landed himself in the hospital was way too many. The guy might be the inspiration for a fictional action hero, but Thomas Magnum himself was only human.

"Can we see him?" Higgins' question pulled the two men's attention back to the conversation at hand, and T.C. looked over at Ethan in time to see him shake his head reluctantly.

"Not yet," Ethan replied gently. "We're going to give him a little more time where he is, and then we'll move him to ICU. If all continues to go well, you should be able to go back a little while after that. I'll keep you updated, okay?"

Higgins swallowed and nodded slowly, and Ethan gave her another reassuring half-hug.

"Hey, look, I told you I'd take good care of him, and I will," he told her.

T.C. reached over to put a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks, Doc," he told Ethan, extending a hand to the other man. "We appreciate it."

Ethan nodded and returned the handshake. "It's the least I can do," he replied. He glanced around the small circle and gave the others a nod. "I need to get back there, but I promise I'll keep in touch the minute anything changes."

With one more small smile to the four friends, he turned and hurried back through the doors on the far side of the room.

To be continued...

A/N II: I have a couple of WIPs with Ethan, but this is the first one I actually published with him in it. It's not the one I want to finish with him as more of a main character, but I do appreciate not having to invent an OC for a doctor again. 0:)