I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Well, it wouldn't be ME without just a little bit of more emotional whumage / sick/hurt/comfort moments, etc? Right?

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

As far as dreams went, it was a murky one. Borderline nightmare. And a bad one at that if any nightmare had an ounce of benefit. Deep in a drug-induced sleep, Danny saw himself grasping at thin air. Falling into an abyss. Steve was there and then blinked out, replaced by Cath Rollins. Then Doris. Then his own mother. Mouths moved. A soundless terror of a plane crashing - one taking off - a flash of Steve's face indescribably interspersed with a kaleidoscope of colors - woke him more slowly than he would have liked.

He stayed in that half-awake state. His fingers twitched. Not really there yet, he moved his fingers again, blindly seeking something - or someone - out. He felt both warm and empty. A terror still clutched at his heart and he was simultaneously hot and cold, chilled by sweat.

"S-steve?" His voice wasn't working, barely projecting past his lips. And like his voice, no one was there at all. He was completely alone.

Hadn't Steve been there? Holding his hand? Danny roused a bit more, blinking up at a bland ceiling. Moonlight created shadows, which moved and ducked as a breeze outside the window swayed some palms. Everything was the same and yet so, so different. The only time in recent history when Steve had held his hand, had been back in the hospital. What he thought he felt now? Well, that could be explained away. His still rabbiting heart sank at the ghost of the memory, worsened when Eddie shifted next to him. His brain wouldn't fully kick in and the dream kept him on edge. Yet, the dog's nose nuzzled his fingers again, leaving a damp trail.

Eddie then, and not Steve. He blinked hard and then carefully rolled on to his better side, resigned to the bitter aches that would make every single attempt at getting to his feet a near impossibility. But nature called and he would not use a bed-pan or anything that might act as one.

Tired before he'd even begun what should have been a short and easy walk, Danny hung his head as he sat on the edge of the bed. He hated the way the strong meds made him feel, so he only took them when desperation struck. He must have had a bad evening because the thickness in his head, combined with the medicinal taste in his mouth, indicated he'd taken everything prescribed.

It was the reason behind the fitful dreams and his inability to truly focus and wake up. It was a chore just to lift his head. With a concerted effort, Danny tried to focus on the here and now. Not a sound pierced the night. At least not a sound which put strain on Danny's ears until he heard a soft murmur of voices. It gave him a spike of hope but he finally pegged it as only the television. A fractured part of his nightmare made him scrub at his face: Steve falling, blinking out. There and yet not there at all. His muddled brain kept insisting that Steve was gone. Nightmares were based in some kind of reality, weren't they? So Danny was alone and yet not alone.

He jolted when Eddie banged against his knees. He squinted down at the dog.

"Why are you so damned happy?" Danny asked the big Lab. Tongue lolling happily, Eddie was the epitome of cheerful. That plucked painfully at Danny's chest. "You're a bad dog, you know that?," Danny said, not meaning it at all.

With Eddie here though, Danny was sure that Junior had been dispatched to take care of him. Because he sure as hell couldn't walk a dog. Danny could barely take care of himself. And if Eddie was here, then Junior was. If Eddie was gone, then Junior would be with Tani; the two were virtually living together. So if that happened, it would be Lou or Adam or …. Cole.

Something inside Danny made him bristle in annoyance. The young man seemed nice enough but Cole had no business there. And now, he'd forced his own business upon them by trying to make things right.

Danny blinked at that. He fuzzily recalled a conversation with Lou about Cole and Catherine … the cipher … Steve leaving. Danny's eyes narrowed as he tried to put some dots together.

For one there was this issue over Catherine. And two, Steve had insisted the man take over the task force as Danny recovered. What the hell was that about? Why not Junior … or hell, Lou was more qualified! Finally, Danny didn't know the guy. Not at all. Steve though? He hadn't even consulted with him on the idea. Danny should have fought that bad decision before Steve left. Nevertheless, Danny couldn't find the energy just then. Drugs made thinking too difficult; it made anger too hard to channel. Splintered colors from the nightmare still teased at him in the dark. Sickly memories of crashing planes. Deiyu Mei's sardonic grin. And blood. Just so much blood.

Danny shuddered and closed his eyes against the onslaught of broken images. He'd been deeply asleep and the nightmare had come to life. Waking was hard and forgetting it all was nearly impossible. He was jittery and on edge, unable to really dissect fact from fiction. He only jolted again when Eddie tried to get his attention.

"G'way. Not now," he muttered under his breath. One thing was true though. He needed the bathroom and right then, that basic human need trumped all of it.

Danny waited to gather the little stamina he had. Moving was hard; walking was worse. He'd be damned if he'd ask for help though. Grousing when he couldn't find the lightswitch, Danny at least found his cane. He leaned heavily on it as he got to his feet. His left arm hung like limp noodle. The nerve damage was severe and the doctors weren't even giving him odds yet on even partial use of the appendage. But he needed the bathroom. He desperately needed to get the bad medicinal taste out of his mouth. And so he kept going when he got to his feet and found a modicum of momentum.

Every step was an issue, sending dull waves through every residual ache in his body. Eddie kept pace like the true soldier-dog he was. He was standing though. Even walking, albeit like a 90-year old man. Covered in a sheen of sweat, still refusing to ask for help as Eddie slowly padded by his side, Danny only got partway down the short hall. A jingle chimed from the television for some ridiculous late night advertisement.

Everything was the same and yet? He sensed that something was different. He blinked as he looked behind from where he'd come. Nothing was there of course. Eddie still padded next him, tail wagging. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong. He frowned and then shook his head. He was acting crazy. He didn't even know when he'd even gone to bed that night. But what did it matter? Weird dreams made everything just plain … weird.

He started his limp again but stopped almost immediately. Beyond the TV which flickered through a nonsensical black and white movie, Danny focused on the one tall figure in the room. The backlit shadow standing by the lanai's large sliders wasn't Junior. It wasn't Lou. Not even Cole.

Danny was sure he was sleep-walking. He blinked. Then glanced down at Eddie. The dog's tail whipped his legs in a steady, happy rhythm. If Eddie wagged his tail any harder, Danny would either have bruises or fall over - maybe both.

He looked back towards the shadow expecting it to be gone. But … nope. Still there. Yup. Hands perched on slender hips, stance wide, Danny knew that shape by heart. Next to him, the slow wag of Eddie's tail continued to give credence to who it was.

Danny didn't believe it; not one iota. Not after the damnable nightmare he'd just had.

If his mouth was dry before, it was a desert now. His lips moved soundlessly as he tried to find something to say. Something to call out. A spike of adrenaline cleared his head just a bit from drugs and dregs of that nightmare, while his heart thundered on. He found a bit of saliva and wet his lips.

It couldn't be … could it?

~ to be continued ~