AN: Hello everyone! So glad you all loved the last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! The tension definitely kicked up a notch and I thoroughly enjoyed raising the stakes. It continues to escalate, no doubt about it. ;)

I did want to quickly mention that as of next week, I'll be posting chapters on Fridays instead of Wednesdays. You'll have to wait an extra day or two for the next chapter, but they'll continue to be posted weekly! Enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: not a doctor (shh!)

At first, they didn't think anything of Steve's abnormally long coffee run. The guy was stressed - they could all see it despite his best efforts to hide it. If he needed to take a drive to process the past 48 hours, well, no one blamed him one bit. If all went well, their leader would return with renewed focus and an ample supply of coffee in hand.

But when the two-hour mark came and went with Steve still notably absent from the office, they started getting concerned. After all, Steve was almost renowned at this point for going rogue, especially when he wasn't thinking clearly. Despite their previous resolution to work by the book in order to protect the knowledge of their abilities, it wasn't a difficult leap to assume that the SEAL had gone off the grid and was mowing through scumbags until he found Kennedy.

With the sigh of a man weary from a long day, Chin pulled out his cell phone and dialed Steve's number with Kono watching anxiously from across the table.

"You've reached Steve McGarrett. Leave a message."

Chin hung up without leaving a message, his own worry ratcheting up a notch. Whatever the reason, Steve not picking up his phone was bad, very bad.

"Kono, track Steve's phone on a private window. It rang through, so you should still get a signal."

She had the tracking system pulled up on the Smart Table within seconds and they both waited impatiently as the system slowly triangulated the signal. A few moments later, the computer pinged with the coordinates of Steve's cell and a live map view with a blinking red dot showing his location.

"That's not far from here," Kono commented, a pensive frown creasing her face. "Maybe fifteen minutes by car. He's probably just on his way back, right?"

Chin was already shaking his head. "It's not moving, cuz. Plus, if he was simply on his way back, wouldn't he pick up my call? Something's wrong."

"Maybe his car just broke down."

Raising an eyebrow, Chin waved his cell phone in the air. "That doesn't explain why he missed my call, Kono. I mean, our current case is the disappearance of his best friend. No way he ignores my phone call when I could be relaying crucial info. Face it: Steve goes looking for trouble like its buried treasure and his common sense is currently tied up somewhere."

Chewing on her bottom lip, Kono glanced helplessly at the blinking red dot. "Are you saying he got kidnapped too?"

"It's more likely he ditched his phone and is now going all Navy SEAL on anyone who dares show their face." Reaching for his keys, Chin moved towards the door with more alarm showing than he'd like to admit. "C'mon, kid, we gotta go. No matter what Steve thinks, he's not actually invincible and Danny will kill us if he finds out we let him run off on his own."

But Kono hesitated, glancing at her office before facing Chin once more. "What about Sarah? We can't just leave her here. And there's no way in hell I'm letting you go on your own, not with Danny kidnapped."

That froze Chin in his tracks. As a soft sigh raised and lowered his shoulders, he glanced over at Kono's office where the young elite still slept. "We can't bring her with us either. I'll call Duke and have him come back me up personally. You stay here and be my eyes, alright?"

She reluctantly nodded, her displeasure at being sidelined showing on her face. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to address it, not with Steve potentially going rogue… or worse. He didn't really want to think about that.

Jumping in his car, he quickly dialed Duke's number and requested him as backup. He emphasized discretion, not that he doubted Duke. The sergeant had proved to be a valuable ally of the team, and with two members AWOL, they needed all the allies they could find.

As soon as the coordinates popped up on his phone from Kono, he put them into his GPS and sped off. The streets were fairly empty, which allowed him to slow down and observe his surroundings. Nothing seemed abnormal, but his instincts refused to quiet.

Relax, Chin Ho, he scolded himself. It could be nothing.

That would be a first for Five-0.

As he drew nearer to the blinking red dot marking the location of Steve's phone, he quickly hit the speed dial command for Kono, who picked up immediately. "Cuz?"

"I'm almost to the source of the signal. Did you find any security cameras or anything we could use?"

"Nothing." He could hear the frustration in the young cop's voice. "That stretch of road is pretty barren. I don't pick up camera coverage for another 2 miles, and there are several turn-offs before then."

In other words, it was the perfect place to go off the grid. Fantastic.

Or the perfect spot for an ambush, a little voice inside of his head whispered.

"I'll stay on the line since I'll probably beat Duke here," he said. "Track my phone too, alright?"

"You got it." A moment's pause, then, "You're getting close."

He fully expected the exact spot to be unremarkable, nothing more than a discarded cell phone on the side of the darkened road. However, the sight of red tail lights marked the spot rather handily. As his car got nearer, he spotted another vehicle parked behind the live one.

Steve's truck.

If he didn't have a bad feeling before, he certainly had one now.

"Steve's truck is parked here with the hood popped," he reported, pulling over behind his boss's truck. "There's another truck here too. It's running, but I don't see anyone in the cab."

"License plate?"

He squinted and rattled it off, then fumbled around for his bluetooth headset as Kono ran the plate. Finally finding it in the glovebox, he quickly set it up and grabbed his flashlight. "Anything?"

"Give me one second - - got it! Okay, the truck is registered to an Alan Makino. No criminal record, up to date driver's license. He does have a certification as an auto mechanic though."

That wasn't entirely helpful. Why would a mechanic be here? Even if Steve somehow broke down, why didn't he call the team or their usual mechanic?

Closing his eyes, he sank into what Kono jokingly called his 'Elite Detector Mode.' A few moments of searching turned up no signatures and no sign of any elites having ever been there - or at least none who used their abilities. Whatever had happened, he couldn't figure it out from the driver's seat of his car.

"Alright, I'm going to look around a bit," he informed his cousin. "The area seems deserted and the more time I waste sitting here, the further away Steve gets."

"Be careful, cuz. I don't know if I can handle you disappearing too."

Leaving the headlights on, he slipped out of the car and immediately knelt with one hand pressed into the dirt. The earth beneath his fingers lit up in a map, all sorts of information immediately presenting itself. The two cars were two, obvious blobs on his radar, but there was something weighing against the earth near the hood of Steve's car. Furthermore, a few imprints nearby gave him pause. However, there was no sign of people nearby - a good sign for him.

Still, he was extremely careful as he approached Steve's truck. Switching his flashlight on, he kept one hand on his gun and slowly swept the light from side to side with eyes glued to the ground for clues as to what happened here.

There - tire tracks matching the tread on Steve's truck. He pulled the truck over and climbed out to check under the hood. The footprints showed no signs of distress, the imprints clear and level. And yet, there was something on the ground just around the engine block of the truck.

Rounding the side, Chin immediately stopped and hurriedly stepped back so he wouldn't step in the dark liquid on the ground. "Kono, I got a body here. Got his brain blown out of his head at point blank range. There's a bullet in the grass."

"Steve?"

"No, definitely not. If I had to guess, it's the guy who owns the other truck. He probably stopped when he saw Steve by the side of the road. Steve's truck must've broken down."

"Any guesses as to what's wrong with it?"

Peering into the engine block of the car, Chin tilted his head. "I'm not sure. Could be any - - whoa, I got it." He wrinkled his nose as he examined the faulty parts. "The fuel filter is clogged, and so are the fuel injectors."

He could practically hear Kono rolling her eyes over the phone. "What does that mean in English for the people who know nothing about cars?"

"When the fuel filter gets clogged, fuel can't get to the engine and the engine dies. Since this is a relatively new truck, my guess is that this wasn't an accident. Someone wanted Steve to break down, and they probably poured diesel fuel in Steve's tank to make sure it happened."

"I'll check the security footage from the Palace parking lot." Kono's determination was a welcome change and he grinned at the sound of it. "What else, cuz?"

Carefully stepping around the pool of blood, Chin crouched down and observed the scene with experienced eyes. "No signs of a struggle. I don't think this is Steve's handiwork, Kono. His body's angled so that it's facing the road."

"So, what then? Was someone else there?"

"Hold on, I'm looking." Moving around the body, he shined his flashlight on the loose dirt near the shoulder of the road. He crouched, fingers once more finding the dirt while his eyes slipped shut.

In a monotone, he began relaying the information he found to Kono. "Another car pulled up by Steve's truck - seems like a van based on the tread and depth of tire tracks. Four people got out, and there's drag marks leading back to where the van was parked."

Rising, he skirted the footprints and took a picture of the van's tread pattern. But something gleaming in the dirt caught his attention.

"Well, kid, I got good news and bad news."

Kono's anxiety bled through her tone. "What is it?"

Donning rubber gloves, Chin picked up the discharge taser cartridge. "The good news is that Steve's still alive. The bad news is that he's been kidnapped, probably by Kingsley's goons. I just found a used taser cartridge, and I can see Steve's cell, gun, and badge laying near his car."

"How do you know he's alive?"

"They wouldn't drag a dead body into their van, not when they left the other one still lying here. No, they must need Steve alive for some reason." Sighing, he resisted the urge to punch the dirt. "At least they left us some evidence this time."

Blue and red lights rounded the bend, signaling Duke's arrival. Replacing the key piece of evidence, Chin rose and scanned the scene one last time to make sure he didn't miss anything. A small headache beat behind his eyes, signaling too little sleep and too much stress.

It's gonna be a long night.

~H50~

When awareness slowly crept its way into Steve's foggy mind, he dimly wondered how he was still alive.

Last he'd checked, he was bleeding out from four separate and extremely painful bullet wounds with Danny yelling obscenities in the background. Now, however, the world around him was quiet. The lack of restraints also caught his notice as he hesitantly raised a hand to rest on his stomach where a ghost of pain remained.

But that was perhaps the most startling difference. Nothing hurt, and Steve knew all too well that something should after getting shot like that. His shoulder was completely fine - better than ever, actually. His legs cheerfully obeyed his commands to move and bend without an ounce of pain, and his stomach was entirely unblemished.

In fact, all of the various aches from years of serious injuries somehow vanished. He'd never felt this pain-free in his entire life.

Maybe he really was dead after all.

Despite his lack of pain, his entire body skirted a level of exhaustion that was nearly debilitating. It clouded his mind, making the simplest of puzzles a challenge. Questions such as where am I? and what the hell happened? were firmly beyond his grasp. Somehow, he'd missed something, something huge.

Something he was pretty sure he'd never forget… once he remembered anyway.

An echo of a memory teased at him, the sound of his partner's frantic voice and the hint of the most glorious sensation he'd ever felt.

Belatedly, he realized his eyes were still firmly shut and he allocated the necessary energy to peel them open. He blinked a few times, ridding himself of that obnoxious haze that accompanied a long period of unconsciousness or sleep. Still working up the wherewithal to sit up, he took his time taking stock of his surroundings.

He was lying flat on his back on a wooden floor in a rather cramped room, a lone lightbulb swinging lazily from the ceiling above him. The room was swaying, he realized, moving in an all-to-familiar motion.

A boat. He was alone in a stripped cabin of a boat and he had no idea how he'd gotten there.

Though a familiar whimper from behind him had him reconsidering the whole 'alone' part.

Ignoring the ensuing headrush that accompanied his upward surge, he whirled around and immediately spotted the figure huddled in the corner of the small space. Curled tightly into a ball, the identifying features were hidden from his view. Yet the shock of matted blond hair coupled with Steve's final memories instantly told him exactly who it was.

"Danny!"

He bounded across the space between them, concern boiling into full-on panic when Danny only twitched at the sound of his name. In the dim light of the lone lightbulb, he looked half-dead - worse than even right after he'd saved Sarah.

Only the violent tremors and the stifled moans showed he was still alive and kicking.

Stupid, self-sacraficing, idiot, he growled to himself as he rolled Danny onto his back. The copious amount of dried blood covering all of his clothes and the lack of previously inflicted bullet wounds told him exactly what Danny did. And right here in front of him was the fallout of those actions.

Steve still pressed two fingers against Danny's neck - ignoring for the moment how unnaturally cold the skin was - to find a pulse just to be sure his partner wasn't in any pressing danger. Danny flinched when Steve touched him, settling a moment later when at the sound of Steve's soft murmur.

There. A weak, but steady heartbeat.

All of his other symptoms corresponded with what he'd seen on the docks and what Dr. Sterling observed and noted in the ER, the most concerning of which was the violent trembling that wracked his entire frame. His skin was freezing and his breathing was far from a healthy rhythm. Yet, despite all of this, Danny somehow hadn't passed out.

Even more impressive, an examination of his pale face showed a sliver of blue beneath fluttering eyelashes. Danny's stubbornness never ceased to amaze him.

"Hey, buddy," he said gently, grinning as his friend's gaze finally locked onto his face. A myriad of emotions flooded his chest, relief and guilt vying for first place. "Y'know, I totally understand wanting to escape a hospital stay, but I don't think getting kidnapped is the best way to go about achieving that goal."

A slight smile tugged at Danny's lips, but a particularly violent tremor quickly wiped it away. Eyes squeezed shut once more, he let out a choked cry of pain before quickly biting it back.

Immediately, Steve leapt forward to soothe his friend while simultaneously scanning him for injuries. "Easy, D, easy. Just breathe through it, alright?"

Danny's shuddering exhale sounded more like a sob, which only succeeded in scaring Steve further. Instinct had him searching for something to treat, some wound he could triage to perhaps minimize his partner's discomfort. However, his quick visual check showed nothing obvious in the dim lighting.

As helplessness quickly joined the hurricane of turbulent emotions, he hesitantly clasped Danny's nearest wrist. "Where does it hurt, D? Are you injured at all?"

Fingers twitching, Danny only grunted and shook his head.

"Are you lying?"

The question bubbled out before he could stop it and he instantly regretted his poor choice of wording. Tension instantly flowed back into Danny's body and blue eyes peeled open once more, hurt visible for a moment before quickly shuttering behind a neutral gaze. It was the same expression he'd worn in the hospital when Steve erupted and the sight of it sent a pang of guilt down his spine.

Still, he waited as Danny swallowed and worked up the energy to speak. "S-s'me cuts 'n bruises. N'thin' serious-s, 'kay? Promise."

"Uh huh, okay. So if it's just some 'cuts and bruises,' why do you look like someone dragged you face-first through hell?"

His tone was harsher than he intended and he winced right along with Danny. With emotions spiraling out of the firm grasp of his control, he was unintentionally hurting his friend. Maybe it was his overwhelming concern at the situation they were now in, maybe it was his rage at Kingsley sorely misdirected at the only available target.

Or maybe he just couldn't wrap his head around what Danny had done for him, what his friend so willingly sacrificed so that he could live.

"Why would you do that, huh?" he whispered, fingers still wrapped around Danny's wrist. "You shouldn't have - - I mean, you gave them exactly what they wanted. It wasn't worth it."

Defensive ire ignited on Danny's expression, temporarily erasing the lines of pain and weariness. "S-screw you, Steven-n," he growled, anger evidently providing him much-needed energy. "I know y'u h-hate me now, but I wasn't g-gonna let y'u die when I co - - could save y-you. Alright? Y'u woulda d-done the 'xact same th-thing."

Fair point. Steve could hardly argue with that.

"Okay, okay, buddy." He sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "Probably, you're right. And for the record, I don't hate you. Don't think I ever could."

"S-sure felt-t-t like 't earlier. 'S my fault-t."

He did not want to have this conversation right now, but Danny was like a dog with a bone. "I was pissed, yeah, but I reacted poorly. I should've heard you out before yelling at you."

"S-still mad?"

"No more than usual. Now just relax, alright? I don't think your body can take much more stress and I doubt this boat is taking us to a spa." That earned a snort from Danny, a familiar sound that brought a smile to Steve's face. "Try to rest. I'll do a quick check to make sure you're not bleeding out somewhere, then I'll keep watch."

Cold fingers curled around his wrist, drawing his attention back to his sick partner whose stubborn streak refused to leave the elephant in the room unaddressed. "'M sorry for l-lyin' to you. Should've t-told you. Just didn't w-w-want any more p'ple getting h-hurt." Apparently sensing Steve's confusion, he squeezed his wrist. "'S a long story. Tell you l-later."

"You don't have to tell me anything, Danno. I trust you and I trust that you have good reasons for what you do. Now shut up and rest, alright?"

Danny mumbled a barely intelligible reply, most of it consisting of words of the four-letter variety.

With the tension resolved, Steve released Danny's hand and gently tugged up his shirt to check his torso. Ignoring Danny's murmured complaints, he winced at the purpling splotches and small cuts littering Danny's chest and stomach. Though undoubtedly painful, none of them explained his friend's near-unbearable discomfort or the increasingly violent shaking.

"D, can you tell me what hurts? I'm not seeing any major injuries here, pal."

Briefly hesitating, Danny blinked twice before breathing out a quiet answer. "S-same places y'u got shot. It'll g-go 'way eventually."

Damn it.

"Did you pass out like last time? Is that a regular thing?"

Clearly exhausted, the blond grit his teeth as another tremor wracked his body. "Usually do, b-but I didn't this t-ti-time. Got sh-shocked too m-much. 'M all s-screwed up."

Right, he had Energy in his mix. Based on what he'd learned as a SEAL, Energy elites were the only elites who could absorb their 'element,' but Danny wasn't pureblood. He couldn't just absorb any random energy - the Soul in his makeup ensured that. Getting electrocuted was like force-feeding him the wrong kind of energy, like giving him food he was allergic to.

He needed to alleviate the side effects fast or Danny wouldn't be able to handle another round with Kingsley.

"Okay, alright. So just heal yourself, alright? You can have some of my energy and - -"

"No!"

Steve stopped short, surprised at his friend's outburst. Danny's eyes were wide open and clearer than they'd been all day, emotions briefly displayed those expressive orbs before disappearing behind careful control. Hands clenched into fists, the blond tried for a neutral tone and utterly failed.

"I can't, alright? P-please don't ask again," he whispered pleadingly, voice laden with both fear and… sorrow.

Heart aching, Steve didn't push. He gently pulled Danny's shirt down and leaned back against the wall beside him. "Okay, so that's not an option." Pausing, he mentally scanned the things Dr. Sterling had done in the ER to ease Danny's symptoms. He didn't have anything to set up an IV, but Sterling had also asked for a blanket from the warmer. There weren't any blankets in the bare cabin, but maybe he could do something else to keep Danny warm.

With his mind made up, Steve scooched closer to his friend and began tugging him upright. Though Danny weakly fought the manhandling, he managed to position his partner so that his entire upper body was pressed against Steve's chest. Wrapping his arms tightly around Danny to keep him in place, he silently willed the tremors to slow.

"Wh't're you doin'?" Danny mumbled even as he sank into Steve's hold. "'M not y'ur teddy bear, Steven."

"Don't get too excited, Danno," he snarked right back. "I'm just trying to warm you up. You're freezing and shaking like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you."

"S-someone did."

Steve smoothly squashed the surge of anger that rose at Danny's casual comment, patting Danny's chest in commiseration. "You'd think a tough guy from Jersey would be able to handle the cold better."

"H-hey, shut it, you," his friend grumped, head rolling to rest against his shoulder. "I'd outlast y'u in the s-snow any d-day."

"That's bull. I'm a fully trained Navy SEAL with an increased metabolism. You think a little cold is gonna stop me?"

Grinning, he ignored the grumbled comment about 'thin-blooded Hawaiian idiots' and lightly bopped Danny on the back of the head. As the blond curled closer, he was pleased to notice the tremors gradually lessening.

Taking advantage of the lull, he closed his eyes for a moment and simply breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. Sure, the situation wasn't great, but at least he knew Danny was somewhat alright. At least he could protect him against Kingsley.

Yeah, that scumbag needed to go down, and Steve was more than happy to oblige.

"S'rry for gettin' y'u kidnapped 'n shot," Danny breathed, burrowing further into Steve's warmth.

Rule number one: when you get someone shot, you apologize!

"Apology noted and accepted." Swallowing around the guilt suddenly clogging his throat, he couldn't stop the words from bubbling out. "It's my fault anyway. I left you exposed in the hospital because I was pissed. If I had been there - -"

"- - doesn' matter. He would've gott'n me later." Shaking his head, Danny's words were more felt than heard. "You shouldn't be in this mess."

The memory brought a small smile to his face. Rubbing Danny's bicep gently, he hesitated for a moment before answering truthfully, "No place I'd rather be, buddy."

That earned a snort from his friend. "Locked in a t-tiny room in the bottom of a bo-boat?"

"Nah, watching your back. Partners, right?"

The instant nod finally lifted a piece of the burden from Steve's heart.

They stayed like that for a little while, silence reigned as Danny gradually settled. It felt very much like the calm before the storm, a brief moment of respite before their hell began once more. Under no illusions, Steve knew exactly what would play out once the boat docked.

They would survive, they had to. And Steve was willing to do whatever was needed to ensure that; his pride be damned. Danny had already sacrificed enough.

Speaking of his partner, Danny almost appeared to be sleeping as his body finally gave in to its own needs. Unfortunately, it wasn't to last.

Steve nearly jumped when tension flooded into Danny's body, every muscle clenching as he let out a low moan. "Shit!"

"Danny, whoa, hey!"

But Danny was already pulling away from him, his movements uncoordinated but purposeful. "Gonna h've a s-seizure."

Before Steve could react, Danny's eyes rolled back into his head. He collapsed to the deck, entire body as stiff as a board. Then, without any warning, he began to convulse.

And there was absolutely nothing Steve could do but sit helplessly and watch.

Things were only going to continue going downhill, he knew. Kingsley would drain Danny with little regard for recovery periods. Danny's body would give out in no time at all. He was already too far down that slippery slope after two near-death saves, and Steve doubted he'd be able to get them out before the man collapsed for good.

Chin, Kono, he thought desperately, please hurry. You're all we've got.

~H50~

Consciousness returned slowly and painfully, various sensations gradually eating away at the only respite Danny managed to get since this entire affair began. Judging from the nasty taste in his mouth and the deep, unnaturally strong ache in his muscles, he doubted he'd gained any actual rest from the brief unconscious stint.

If anything, he felt significantly worse.

That full-body tremor had once more taken residence in Danny's body despite Steve nearly helping him banish it earlier, evidence of the significant energy drain he'd forced on his already stressed body. The residual pain from healing Steve's bullet wounds was now accompanied by a pounding headache, a twinge of nausea, and a generalized soreness he knew all too well but hadn't felt in quite some time.

Damn it, I had a seizure. It'd been awhile since he'd pushed himself far enough to warrant that particular side effect.

Still playing possum, he tried to assess the situation as best he could. Someone - almost definitely Steve - had thoughtfully placed him into a recovery position. Between the overall lack of people tormenting him and the continuous rocking beneath his body, they were still locked in the cabin on the yacht.

Somewhat safe, at least for now. Based on that assessment, he promptly tried to move.

And immediately stopped, gagging against skyrocketing nausea. Arms wrapping around his stomach, he failed to bite back a quiet whimper as his body revolted on every conceivable level. Whoever dared use the word 'misery' lightly would beg for forgiveness after one minute of this torment.

It sucked being super.

Then a warm hand found its way to his back, the touch as familiar as his own name. It chipped away at his distress and a low commanding voice gradually penetrated his foggy mind.

"Breathe through it, Danny. C'mon man, you really wanna break your streak now?"

The joke failed to disguise the worry in Steve's voice, concern and no small amount of guilt tainting the SEAL's very airspace. It was enough to prompt him to open his eyes, at least a little bit. Coughing, he curled further into himself and fought back the nausea. Puking at this stage would only worry Steve further, and the last thing he needed was a frantic mother-henning Navy SEAL trapped in a tiny boat with him.

"Screw you," he murmured, using all of his willpower to keep his eyes open. "We're… we're 'n this mess-s an' all you c-care 'bout 's my s-streak?"

The banter worked like it always did. The stress lines on Steve's forehead relaxed minutely as he grinned. "Well, it's an impressive record. I gotta keep my priorities straight, right?"

He snorted, which turned out to be an enormous mistake. His stomach felt as though someone was driving a hot poker through it as every muscle seemed to cramp at once. Freezing and shaking like a leaf, he was spent in more ways than one.

"It hurts, St've." His voice came out slurred, the admittance escaping before he could stop it. Unable to cope, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the world.

Unfortunately, Steve seemed hellbent on not allowing him this one luxury. "Hey, stay awake for me, buddy. Now's not the best time to pass out, huh?"

"'M n't gonna pass out." A token protest before he did precisely that

"You're not even a little convincing. At least try to look conscious, Danno."

Steve's attempt at a lighthearted tone was an abysmal failure, the raw worry only increasing with every passing minute of the conversation. It was enough to keep Danny from slipping off into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness. No, he refused to leave his friend alone to protect them both, not when the only thing keeping Steve alive was Danny's promise to cooperate.

Biting back another groan, Danny attempted to push himself upright and only succeeded in flopping back on the ground. Another shiver coursed through his useless muscles and he resigned himself to staying on the floor for now.

"Damn it all." He felt Steve move back slightly, the man's guilt stifling the air around them. "You overdid it, D."

It took more effort than Danny was willing to admit to answer, but he refused to allow his friend to beat himself up for Danny's mistakes. After all, it was his own abilities that had gotten Steve taken and shot in the first place.

"Yeah, l-l-like I h'd a choice, S-Steven."

And just like that, Steve's contrition morphed from merely stifling to downright suffocating. The SEAL quietly cursed, plopping down beside Danny and refusing to look in his direction.

Ignoring a particularly violent tremor, Danny risked unwrapping one arm from his stomach and patted Steve's knee to get his attention. "'S not y'ur fault, y'know," he breathed, trying desperately to convince Steve to believe it. "Worth it-t. I'd d-do it again."

And again, and again, and again until I drop dead.

"It's not gonna happen." Steve's voice was unyielding, as though by his word alone he could command the sun to rise in the west. "You're done for the day. Done for the month, actually."

Yeah, Commander Control-Freak was back. Mumbling a few choice insults under his breath, he hid a smile as Steve chuckled.

Down, but not out. Not yet.

Unfortunately, the brief respite ended with the sound of footsteps stomping down the hall towards their door. Steve tensed beside him, clearly ready to take down the first twenty people who dared walk through the door. It wouldn't work, it never would.

Unlike Steve, he knew firsthand what would happen next under Kingsley's control. He'd seen it all before many years ago. If Steve caused enough trouble, they'd have no problem putting a bullet in his forehead and making Danny watch.

He needed Steve - more than words could say - in order to endure the coming hell. Summoning all of his remaining energy, he allowed one last moment of weakness before hiding it all once more. "Watch your back, Steve. You gotta take care of yourself first, alright? I'll be fine."

"Not gonna happen."

"Please," Danny was nearly pleading now, the hand on Steve's knee clenching with frantic desperation, "we need to buy time. Just… don't do anything stupid, alright?"

Sensing his partner's reluctant agreement, he gave into his body's demands to stop and let his eyes close. Steve shifted beside him, no doubt moving to place himself between Danny and the incoming guards. At this point, he could only hope that Steve would heed his advice and do what was necessary to stay alive, even at Danny's expense.

Elites who tried to be heroes wound up dead. They needed to survive. He had a daughter waiting for him and he wasn't going to leave her without one hell of a fight. He had a Daddy/Daughter date with her next weekend that he refused to miss.

I'm coming home, Monkey. I promise.

And we're officially back to where we started! Took the long way there, but hopefully it was an enjoyable journey. So excited to share the epic conclusion of this tale over the next handful of chapters. Thanks for reading!