AN: We're in the home stretch, guys! This chapter was quite a challenge to write, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I think Danny and Steve are overdue for a heart to heart, don't you? ;)

Thanks, as always, for reading. It is such a pleasure to read your reviews and share a love of this story. I hope this delivers on expectations!

After a thorough evaluation, Kono decided that she'd never felt this good in her entire life.

Sure, some might say that she was too young to have a knee that told her when a storm was coming or to wake up feeling achy. But this was her lot in life. Her choice of professions - surfing at a pro level, then law enforcement - earned her more than her fair share of persistent little aches and pains.

So she was understandably surprised when she started waking up without a single complaining body part. It began on the boat when she opened her eyes to find her concerned cousin hovering over her on the bloodstained deck. A quick explanation confirmed her hazy memory: she'd been shot in the gut and passed out from blood loss and shock.

Yet, she walked away totally unscathed. At first, it didn't make any sense, not until she blearily blinked at the crowd of people hunched over the haole who lay unconscious and seizing nearby.

Of course, she had no time to truly process all of it. She and the rest of her team had been kept busy cleaning up the Kingsley mess, covering their own tracks, and keeping an eye on Danny once they recovered him from the side of the road. With everything going on, she lacked the energy to acknowledge the newly pain-free state of her body.

However, some part of her subconsciousness must've registered it and understood the implications. She found herself avoiding Danny when he was awake for no particular reason once he got out of the hospital and the shock of the whole experience wore off. No one really noticed. On the flipside, she was perfectly content sitting with him while he slept, easing his shivers and ensuring that the nightmares stayed away. For some reason, his unconscious vulnerability was easier to deal with than his attempts to be normal while awake.

It wasn't until after Grace's visit and Danny's official statement to the police - consisting of "I didn't see anything, they drugged me, etc." - that Kono finally had the time to process it all in her own way. Waking before dawn, she grabbed her favorite board and drove to a secluded cove known for its impressive waves. By some luck, she was the only one out there for most of the early morning.

And there, drenched in salt water with the waves singing beneath her, she finally found a way to process it all. Forced to confront the reality of what happened on Kingsley's ship, salty tears mingled with the Pacific Ocean.

She'd almost died. Danny saved her life. And Danny nearly died in the process of doing so. He almost hadn't seen Grace again because of what he did for her. How was she supposed to handle that?

Maybe that's why she'd been subconsciously avoiding him, she thought as she attacked the next wave. Wind blowing through her wet hair, she aggressively carved a path through the water as the sea moved powerfully beneath her board in response to her angry call.

With a touch of trepidation, she recognized a shift in the water a fraction too late as the wave got bigger than she anticipated. It would've been cake before tearing her ACL, but her bad knee couldn't handle big stuff like this.

Too late to bail, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to breathe. She didn't want to risk splitting her concentration to reduce the wave - - at least, that's what she told herself. Truthfully, a small part of her wanted to wipe out, needing to feel some sort of pain in an effort to dull the ache in her soul.

Bracing for the inevitable fall, she shifted her weight just as her coach taught her to find the sweet spot of the wave. Yet, to her immense surprise, her bad knee didn't buckle. It didn't even twinge in pain. Cautiously, she attempted a more complex series of moves that she hadn't tried since her injury, only for her knee to handle all of them with no pained complaint.

What the hell?

The rest of the morning was spent testing her limits as a small part of her almost wished for the pain to return to her knee. Because this had to be a fluke, and it was far easier to deal with that than the reality she knew deep down to be true.

Danny hadn't just saved her. No, he went the extra mile and fixed the thing that cost her the first career she'd ever had - dying in the process of doing so. And she'd never thanked him for it. That gross travesty was more than enough to spur her to action.

Time to face reality. Oddly enough, she got the feeling that she wasn't the only one who needed that kick in the pants. Driving to Steve's house with a renewed sense of purpose, she rehearsed what she'd say to the ornery man she considered ohana.

Pushing into the house at Steve's faint "it's open!", she made her way to the kitchen to find her three other teammates. It was no surprise to find them there - none of them really wanted to be apart after their ordeal. Steve was at the stove, poking at something in a skillet, and he looked up long enough to give her a small grin before refocusing on the omlet he was murdering. Strategically positioned to block Danny in at the table, Chin sipped his coffee and innocently read the paper as if he was entirely oblivious to Danny's withering glare.

She'd heard all about Danny's aborted escape attempt that almost certainly would've succeeded if not for Chin's perceptiveness. Hell, she'd sat through several of Steve's lectures and even dished out a tiny one of her own. The only thing that placated the three Hawaiians was Danny's genuine remorse and vow to not try anything like that again.

Though Danny made no further attempts to run off, her boss continued to hover incessantly as though his partner would disappear if he so much as blinked. Chin's watchfulness was far more subtle, but still easily perceived by the intelligent mainlander.

Clearly, he was more than a little fed up with it.

Sliding into the seat next to him, she gently poked his ribs. "You look miserable, brah."

Twisting in his seat, Danny's hands lifted and cut sharply through the air. "Kono, thank God. You gotta get me outta here!" he whispered, blue eyes practically begging her to relent. "They're driving me nuts!"

"I heard that!" came Steve's dry rebuke from over by the stove.

"Good, you were supposed to!" Danny shot back. "My own Ma didn't hover this much, you bunch of pineapple-eating schmucks!"

Chin serenely turned the page of the paper, wisely staying out of it.

Giggling quietly, she tapped Danny's knee to get his attention. "I'm not taking you home no matter how much you beg. Steve and Dr. Sterling would have my head!"

"No, that's not what I'm asking, I swear!" Folding his hands together, Danny donned a pair of puppy dog eyes that would rival his daughter's. "I just need a change of scenery - that's it! Commander Control Freak won't even let me go for a walk since I'm still on crutches, but I gotta get out of here before I go insane. If I have to keep lookin' at the inside of this bachelor-pad for one more second, I'll - -"

His hands mimed an explosion and she had to laugh. Yet, one look at his blue eyes showed the hidden truth behind the extravagant explanation. Behind the twinkle of humored ire was a haunted look - furtive glances at the corners of the house as the walls closed in on him. Heart twinging in sympathy, she maintained her smile and quickly adopted a new plan.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Don't worry, brah, I got your back." Raising her voice a bit, she innocently addressed Steve. "Hey boss, Danny and I are gonna go pick up some malasadas. Want anything while we're out?"

Steve finished extracting his omlet from the skillet, then gave her an appraising glance. Apparently, he easily read her true intention because he gave a short nod. "Be back in an hour."

"An hour? What is this, yard time at Halawa?" Danny folded his arms across his chest. "I'm a grown man who, last I checked, doesn't need permission to go out and do stuff!"

"That's very nice, Danno. One hour."

"Two!"

"One. And stay off that foot!" Rolling his eyes, Steve plunked his plate down on the table and plopped in the chair across from his stubborn friend. "Bones is stopping by this morning to check on those wounds and I don't want to explain to him why you're not here, alright?"

"Fine," Danny growled, grabbing his crutches from the corner and hoisting himself up from the table with a grunt. "Don't wait up, dear."

Chuckling at the appalled look on Steve's face, Kono pulled her keys out of her pocket and waved. "Later, guys."

"Get me a cocoa puff," Chin called, not looking up from his paper.

By the time she walked out the front door, Danny had already hobbled over to the passenger's seat of her car and was waiting impatiently. She practically sprinted to the driver's seat and peeled out of the driveway as fast as she could.

Rolling down his window, Danny closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. "I owe you one, Kalakaua."

The seemingly innocent words curdled inside her gut, but she plastered on a smile anyway. "Anytime. I get it, actually. Chin always freaked out when I got hurt and hovered like you wouldn't believe. After my knee surgery, I don't think he left my house for longer than two hours. I was bouncing off the walls."

"Surprised he even let you back on the board. If that were Grace, I'm pretty sure I'd ban her from even lookin' at the ocean."

Steering toward the coastal highway, Kono rolled down her window too. "He didn't at first - not until I got permission from my doctor. Then he was out there with me on every wave helping me regain something I loved doing."

Danny hummed into acknowledgement, eyes fixed on the scenery. "And how was the water this morning?"

Eyes wide, she risked a surprised glance over at her impassive passenger. "How'd you know I went surfing?"

"I'm a pretty good detective, y'know. The clues are all right there." Grinning, he winked at her. "You smell like salt water and the driver's side mat has fresh wet sand caked on it. Not to mention that you look more settled - centered, maybe - than you have since I woke up in the hospital. Surfing is your therapy, and you look like you just had a really helpful session."

"Damn, brah!"

"It's impressive, right? Listen to my wisdom and one day you'll be even better than me. Of course," he added with a hint of mischievousness in his voice, "the biggest giveaway was the surfboard strapped to the roof of your car."

Her indignant squawk was overshadowed by Danny's genuine laughter - a joyful sound that Kono rarely heard. It bolstered her spirit and injected courage into her veins, enough to spur her to segway into the real reason for the car ride.

"You know, I noticed something odd while I surfed." Without taking her eyes off the road, she reached down and tapped her scarred knee. "I don't think my knee has felt that good on a board since before I tore my ACL. It was stable and handled some of my harder moves without a hitch. In fact, I'm not even sore now and I usually am after some of the stuff I pulled today."

She sensed more than saw tension return to her friend. "Must be the weather. Knees can be weirdly sensitive to rain and humidity and weird stuff like that."

Shaking her head, she quickly dismissed his comment. "Nah, that's not what this was. Even the big stuff wasn't giving me trouble. It's almost as though it miraculously healed."

Danny actually flinched at that, but he remained stubbornly silent in the face of her near-accusation.

"You didn't just fix my bullet wound, did you? You went in and fixed my knee too - and anything else you sensed to be wrong. I don't think I've ever been this pain-free in my life."

Nothing.

Okay, this might be a lot harder than I thought.

"I never got to thank you for saving me," she tried again. "I know… I know what it almost cost you, and that's something I can never repay."

But Danny only snorted. "Repay? It's my fault you were on that ship in the first place. You never should've gotten shot in the first place."

"But I was. And you saved me. Those are the facts, Danny. We can go on and on about 'what ifs', but that doesn't change what happened. You gave me an incredible gift and I'm grateful for it."

Face twisting into an expression of sorrow, Danny shook his head. "Don't be, alright? It's not something I'm particularly proud of, and it's certainly not a gift."

Says the guy who literally died saving a bunch of people, she wanted to growl back.

"Y'know, I know a little something about power," she said instead. "To be able to alter the laws of nature with a thought or a touch or a movement… well, it's a terrible burden to bear. My mom always taught me that it was a responsibility more than a gift, one that I was charged with using for the greater good."

Danny sighed, suddenly looking a whole lot older than his mere thirty-odd years. "Your mom's not wrong, but the real world doesn't really work like that, kid. People see elites and want to exploit them to chase their delusions of grandeur."

"Did I exploit you? Did Steve or Chin?"

"That's different."

"It's not!" she argued. "Danny, Steve and I would both be dead without your intervention. Like it or not, you were given these abilities and you've used them for tremendous good despite the odds. How can you possibly say that what you can do is a bad thing?"

"In the wrong hands - -"

"These powers aren't in the wrong hands, Danny. They're in your hands."

"Maybe that's the problem!"

Kono jumped at the sudden shout, nearly jerking the wheel into oncoming traffic. Gone was the tired note or humor in Danny's voice. No, all that was left was a raw, exposed nerve that pulsed with a lifetime of pain. Cheeks red and knuckles white, Danny stubbornly refused to look at her.

With as much caution and care she could muster, she softened her voice. "If that's true, then Steve, Chin, and I are in the same boat as you. No one is perfect, Danny. All we can do is use what we've been given with humility and grace to try and do some good in this world. No one is a better example of that than you."

She waited for Danny to refute her statement, but he only hung his head. "You don't know the pain I've caused, Kono."

Pulling over to the side of the road, she fully twisted in her seat to face the pain oozing from her friend's face. "No, but I know the pain you've taken away. That's what I choose to see, not your self-inflicted sins or your mistakes. You save people no matter the cost, and I can't thank you enough for being one of those lucky few you saved."

She pulled back onto the road and headed back toward Steve's house, content to let the silence do its work on her pensive passenger. True to her word, she picked up malasadas and cocoa puffs at a bakery once they reached town and simply enjoyed the feeling of the breeze brushing past her face as she drove.

It wasn't until they reached the turn for Steve's house that Danny finally broke the silence. "You gonna go back to pro surfing now?"

Sensing the acceptance in his voice - he'd actually listened to her little speech - she went for a lighter note. "Nah. Don't get me wrong, I'd enjoy it! But I like blowing stuff up and punching bad guys every day with you guys more. That's an adrenaline rush no wave can top."

With flying hands, Danny's furious rant brought a huge smile to her face, one she couldn't wipe off her face for the rest of the day.

~H50~

Around the same time that Steve's nightmares began to slow down in frequency, Danny's nightmares began. He had a whole plethora to choose from - the haunted expressions of children forced to do Kingsley's bidding, Steve nearly dying, and more. Along with the bad dreams came insomniatic behaviors that Danny declared to be fairly normal for his daily life, something Steve was beginning to doubt stemmed from 'nothing at all' as Danny claimed.

Despite his partner's dismissive requests not to worry, Steve worried anyway.

Danny was extraordinarily good at hiding - and that was half of the problem. Whether it was the true details of his powers or the extent of his physical and mental pain, the stubborn haole rivaled Steve in his inability to share. He expertly covered the remnants of his nightmares and sleepless nights with tired grins and sarcastic quips, fooling everyone but a certain SEAL who slept on the other side of the wall and heard the quiet whimpers of tortured dreams.

Steve got it - he really did! After everything that happened with Brad Kingsley, it wasn't difficult to understand why Danny kept a lid on what he could do as an elite. Kingsley all but drained him dry and stripped him of his humanity. Given the circumstances, Steve was fairly certain he'd keep his powers secret too if he were in Danny's shoes.

But with each new thing Steve uncovered about his partner, he found himself utterly gobsmacked and mildly hurt. Sometimes, he wondered if he even knew Danny at all. Then, the guilt set in, the words he said in the hospital room echoing in his mind.

You wanna go at it alone so badly? Congratulations. You just got your wish.

He didn't mean it, not even as he said it. Though Five-0 had only been together for a little over six months, each member of the team meant so much more to him then a mere coworker. Somehow, what he'd said to Kono during her private graduation ceremony became a reality. Four lost souls had become 'ohana - there for each other when no one else bothered to be. And his words to Danny threw all of that back in his face.

As a result, he was uncharacteristically hesitant with his friend, unsure of how to broach the very emotional conversations weighing on him. And telling his friend that he'd somehow healed himself with powers that he absolutely loathed seemed too tall a task. The Navy hadn't exactly taught him how to be sensitive, and it certainly hadn't shown him how to deal with the mess of feelings bubbling in his gut.

Then, he woke up one night at 3 a.m. to the sound of suffocating silence.

At first, he was merely unsettled and couldn't quite figure out why. After all, it was three in the freakin' morning! Despite Danny's claims that he got up at an ungodly hour, 3 a.m. was a time when the very world seemed to sleep. Of course it was silent.

Danny.

Panic strangled his lungs as he all but lunged out of bed and skidded into the hallway. He forced himself to slow when he reached Danny's door just in case the man was sleeping - but that was precisely the problem. The room was as still as a tomb, and his gregarious partner was anything but quiet.

Sure enough, the bed lay empty with rumpled sheets as the only sign that anyone slept in it that night. Moreover, the still-necessary crutches were gone from their place beside the bedpost.

His first thought jumped to the conclusion that Danny had run away again despite his promise not to. However, the sight of Danny's cell phone, wallet, and keys still scattered across the nightstand quickly dispelled that assumption. His shoes lying untouched in the corner of the room served as further proof that the detective hadn't left.

So where the hell is he?

A search of the top floor - including the bathroom - yielded no results, so Steve padded quietly down the stairs and began checking rooms on the ground floor. As it turned out, he didn't need to look far.

Even in the lightless interior of his kitchen, he still spotted the cracked door that led out to the beach. The breeze brushed against his loose-fitting pants as he slowly pushed it open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the launi. Eyes falling to the sand, the round indentations of Danny's crutches marked a clear trail of his hobbled steps. In fact, one of said crutches lay abandoned in the grass halfway down the beach.

And there, hunched over his knees by the waterline, was Danny Williams.

He looked as though he'd collapsed there, awkwardly kneeling in the sand in an effort to keep the pad of his bad foot off the ground. Head bowed against his chest, Danny remained utterly still despite the uncomfortable position.

That alone was enough to spur Steve into action, for 'still' was practically equivalent to 'unwell' for his partner.

Quietly, he made his way down to the beach and sat beside Danny. From this position, he could easily hear the distressed whine of Danny's breaths, but he kept his eyes firmly focused on the dark waves breaking nearby. The night breeze tickled his bare arms and the world around him slowly settled back into an undisrupted rhythm, leaving himself and Danny utterly alone in the great expanse.

Silence reigned for an undetermined amount of time - a silence that Danny would normally break, but didn't. That left Steve struggling once more with the inadequacy of his training, at a loss as to how he should help his hurting friend. Waffling between options, he finally settled on a fairly safe query, overused to the point of meaninglessness.

"You okay?"

A near inaudible sniff was answer enough.

"You spooked me, man." Steve tried a different tact. "I thought you'd run off again."

"Said I wouldn't leave," came Danny's low response, voice monotone and slightly nasally. "'Course, I haven't given you much reason to trust me, have I?"

It wasn't a question, the words dripping with self-contempt. Steve shrugged, staying silent. Unsure of how to answer.

Another sniff, then, "I could've told you about my abilities from the start. I wanted to, but historically, that move hasn't really ended well for me. It's been so long… guess self-preservation instincts just kicked in."

Mind instantly jumping to the kidnapping that happened almost immediately after Danny's skillset was revealed, that hurt and near-suffocating guilt instantly swamped Steve. Though they'd cleared the air briefly in Kingsley's hold, more still needed to be addressed now that they were finally safe. Still, it wasn't the conversation he expected from a man seemingly weighed down by grief, especially given all that had happened since then.

"It's in the past, Danno," he said, sucking in a deep breath and preparing for the tall task of emotional vulnerability. "I'm not gonna lie - it hurts, but I still trust you with my life. Besides, you weren't the only one who said things they regret."

"Still. I'm sorry. None of this should've happened."

That radar ping of unease was rapidly turning into a klaxon, but Steve forced himself to relax. "It's not your fault, you know. No one blames you."

Because it's mine, pal. I never should've yelled and left you alone.

Danny's bark of laughter held anything but humor. "They should. Everyone should." His voice cracked - whether from rage or sorrow, Steve would never know. "I hurt people. 'S the only thing I'm any good at."

"No, no." Steve shook his head, whipping around to face his partner as guilt temporarily took the backseat in favor of defensive ire for his partner. "That's not true, Danny. What about Sarah, huh? What about Kono and Chin and me?" Now it was his voice's turn to crack with emotion. "You saved my life, buddy - more than once, actually."

"Yeah, and I'm the reason it was in jeopardy in the first place." Staring stubbornly at the ground, Danny heaved a heavy sigh. "You're not the first, y'know, an' I doubt you'll be the last. I've got a body count you wouldn't believe, Steve. 'S like a curse - I can heal people and they find out about my abilities, only for that power to turn around and… and…"

He trailed off, white teeth suddenly digging into his lower lip as his blue eyes shimmered in the moonlight. It wasn't until a pearl-shaped diamond dropped down his cheek that Steve realized that the curtain of tears brimming in his eyes finally overflowed onto his face. The sight of it ached nearly as much as the four bullet wounds.

Instinctively, he reached out to steady his friend with a hand on the shoulder, but stopped before he made contact. Somewhere in his mind, his dad's voice stubbornly claimed that real men don't cry together, that emotion was best internalized. Strong men don't cry, Steve.

Yet, faced with Danny's sorrow, he couldn't help but question that particular lesson. Because Danny was the strongest person he'd ever met, and in the eye of this emotional storm, it was he who felt weak.

Like I need more proof of that.

Silence reigned for a while, broken only by Danny's choked whisper. "The only people outside my family who knew what I could do were my best friend and his parents. His name was Billy, and we were inseparable. We did everything together - baseball, school, vacations."

A lump lodged itself in Steve's throat, accompanying the sinking feeling in his gut as he guessed this tale's end. Still, he stayed quiet, allowing his friend the space to tell it in his own time.

"We were both ten when we went to the Jersey shore. It was an accident while we were swimming - a fluke, really. He was actually trying to save me." Previously full of emotion, Danny's tone shifted to a stark monotone even as tears still flowed down his cheeks. "He drowned, and I couldn't save him. I tried, y'know. But you can't pump enough energy into a corpse to bring it back to life."

The hint of bitterness in his friend's voice cracked against Steve's sternum - a sickening punch of self-blame and anger. Fingers twitching in an unabashed need to reach toward his friend, Steve squeezed his hands into fists instead. "I'm sorry, Danno. I can't imagine what that must've been like."

And he honestly couldn't. He'd experienced more than his fair share of loss in life, including his mother at only 16. However, that was nothing like losing a best friend at such a young age - especially when you were capable of the things Danny was. It must've torn him apart.

"See?" Danny snorted, which sounded suspiciously close to a sob. "Causing heartache… it's like ingrained in my friggin' DNA. How am I supposed to deal with that, huh? I let my best friend die, Steve. I let him die and it almost happened again when Kingsley… when he shot you and wouldn't let me - -"

Previously mere droplets, the flow of sorrow manifesting in tears streamed like a wild, rushing river down Danny's face. Yet there was none of the blubbering that Steve associated with this kind of gut-wrenching grief. No, in the utter antithesis of everything Steve knew about Danny, he wept in complete silence. The sobs wracked his body to the point of violent tremors, but not a single sound emerged.

For once, he stopped thinking and allowed instinct to take over. Calloused hands found shaking shoulders and gently turned the smaller man to face him. Still stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze, Danny's silent tears wet the sand between their knees.

Words seemed inadequate in this moment - a waste of breath and energy when faced with the depth of this emotional wound. So he didn't bother to use them, choosing the power of action in their stead.

Leaning forward, he gently rested his forehead against his friend's - much like he had back on Kingsley's boat. He inhaled slowly and his hands rose as Danny mimicked it with a shuddering breath of his own. With only the crashing waves for company in the dead of night, a thousand words flew by unsaid as two broken men picked up the shattered pieces of their souls.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, drawing strength from each other on the cold sand. Eventually, the tremor in Danny's shoulders became one of physical pain rather than heartache. Kicking himself for not noticing it before, Steve shifted his hold from Danny's shoulders to beneath his friend's elbows. "C'mon, I got you, buddy."

Danny didn't fight him - in fact, the poor guy was practically boneless. Steve bore his friend's weight effortlessly as he pulled the blond to his feet, heart clenching at the low groan as Danny's back protested the movement. Ignoring the single abandoned crutch lying on the beach beside Danny's feet, Steve opted to gently sling Danny's arm over his shoulder and help his friend hobble to the nearby Aderondak chairs.

The chairs were pushed close together, the gap between them small enough for Steve to easily cross and keep hold of his friend's wrist. Beneath his fingers, the gradually slowing th-thump of Danny's pulse grounded him in a way nothing else could. Though his eyes were locked on his partner, Danny's gaze remained fixed on the ocean waves as he slowly regained control.

Slowly, the pieces of the complex puzzle of Danny Williams clicked into place and created a picture of a beaten spirit pushed far beyond its limits, yet refused to break. Never before had he admired his partner as much as he did in this moment. However, there were still holes in the picture - large gaps that failed to explain the raw heartache emanating from Danny now.

Plus, something Danny said on Kingsley's boat still ate away at Steve's mind. Something about Kingsley not being the first trafficker he'd stumbled across in his life.

Now was not the time to dwell on that, however. His friend's distress presented a far more crucial point of focus.

"It wasn't your fault, Danny," he said fiercely, praying the man would believe it and knowing he wouldn't. "No one blamed you, especially since you did everything you could."

But Danny only smiled, a sick expression that bore no joy at all. "His parents did. Kicked me and my family out of the church at the funeral and everything."

"They were grieving and - -"

"So when they contacted a guy asking for information about powerful elites and gave him my name, were they grieving then? Huh?"

Eyes wide, Steve's jaw dropped. Because surely he'd misheard his partner, right? Surely no self-respecting human being would do that to a little kid, especially one so near and dear to someone they loved. But one look at Danny's face confirmed it, and his stomach twisted sourly in preparation of what was to come.

Gone was the emotionless monotone from before. Cheeks flaming red, Danny's voice cut through the night air just as sharply as his slicing free hand. "Yeah, because grief makes you do crazy stuff, right? Telling a bunch of thugs to kidnap and pimp out a ten-year-old kid for his powers because he couldn't save your son is just par for the course! And if my dad dies in the process - well, who can blame them? They're grieving."

That last word was practically a howl, pure rage and raw hurt shattering the stillness of the night. Just as quickly as Danny revved up, he deflated. Slumping back into the chair with a quiet groan, he stubbornly avoided Steve's questioning eyes.

Meanwhile, Steve sat utterly gobsmacked, certain he hadn't heard Danny's last declaration clearly. Because surely Danny Williams, who bragged about his giant family holidays back in Jersey and called his family every other day, didn't just say what he thought he heard.

"Danny," he murmured slowly, his friend's pulse a wailing alarm beneath his fingertips, "what happened?"

"What do you think?" Tone utterly broken, Danny pulled his arm free from Steve's grasp and covered his face with both hands. "They t-boned our car one night after my baseball game. They yanked me and my dad out of the car, then made me watch while they shot him in the head. Then, they dragged me somewhere seedy and started pimping my abilities out to anyone willing to pay their fee."

And just like that, rage replaced all other emotions - a spike of red-hot fury threatening to carve its way out of Steve's gut. Memories of hopeless eyes too old for their age flashed in a highlight reel of horrors in Steve's mind, and the fearful faces of the kids he was forced to fight were replaced by Danny's.

The very thought of his friend - so young and innocent - in a similar situation made him want to throw up. And suddenly, Danny's outburst in Kamekona's shop made sense, his defensiveness of Sarah so much more than his fatherly instincts kicking in. No, Danny's sorrow for these kids ran so much deeper because he was once one of them.

"How long?" he croaked out, fighting both simmering anger and gut-twisting nausea. "How long did they - -"

"Three weeks." Dragging his hands down his face, Danny crossed his arms around his torso in a self-embrace. "It was bad - worse than bad. Recovery was almost worse - the hospital, my mom cryin', and I couldn't flip my powers off. Vicious cycle."

Almost not wanting to know the answer, Steve dared to ask, "Did the cops find you or…?

Danny froze, the nervous fidgeting of his hands stuttering to a stop at the question. Holding his breath, Steve couldn't look away from his friend if he tried. Like the pull of a magnet, every fiber of his being remained fixed on Danny as he waited for the reply. Even the waves seemed to still, the whole night waiting with bated breath for his answer.

And for a while, it didn't look like Danny would. Fingers clenched into fists, Danny's hands were so close and yet out of reach. He desperately wanted to comfort his friend - ease his pain somehow - but he forced himself to wait. This was important, he sensed, and he dared not break the spell.

But Danny cleared his throat, blinking unsteadily in the light of the stars. "No," he breathed, "no one found me. All I remember is one of the guys grabbing me to take me to one of their clients and I… something in me snapped. I drained him dry in a second, Steve, then I took from another, and another. I couldn't stop and before I knew it, I was alone in a dingy building full of dead guys. I ran all the way to the police station, told them my name, then collapsed from the side effects. Woke up in the hospital."

And suddenly, the nausea returned with a vengeance. Hell, most of what he'd seen in the SEALs failed to compete with the utter horror of Danny's tale. "Did you tell anyone?"

It took a moment, but Danny slowly shook his head. "No, you're the first." Still, Danny wouldn't look in his direction - a fact that was beginning to worry Steve the longer this conversation continued. "I was terrified and all the strangers asking me questions and poking me with needles were not helping. My ma was a mess tryin' to hold the family together and deal with me and cope with Dad's death. That was a little more important than everything else."

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Danny was already talking too fast for him to interject.

"You know what's worse? I had to watch my mom grieve know that I should've died in that stupid car, not him." Hands clenched into fists beside his ears, Danny was rapidly losing control once more. "I was hurt really bad and my dad… my dad…"

A low, mournful keen cut off the rambled admittance, but Steve didn't need his friend to finish that sentence to know what happened.

He gave up his energy for his son.

"That's what fathers are supposed to do, buddy." Steve made every effort to appear calm in an effort to soothe his friend's outpouring of woes. "Would you do anything less for Grace? Given the choice, I'm sure your dad would do the same thing every time, no hesitation."

Bending even further at the waist, a muffled sob shook Danny's hunched shoulders. "I killed him," he choked out. "He was already half-dead by the time those guys shot him because of what I took from him! And they shot him because of me! Everyone who I take energy from dies! I kill them all!"

Breathing deeply, Steve kept his voice low - a perfect contrast to Danny's shouted anguish. "Not everyone."

Danny froze.

The man could've been carved from granite, human flesh stiffening to stone so quickly that Steve almost missed the transformation. If he had a quarter, he was pretty sure he could bounce it off of Danny's clenched muscles and achieve a pretty substantial ricochet.

Only his lips moved, a bitten-off growl of pure denial. "I didn't. Tell me I didn't."

Swallowing hard, Steve decided to dive in headfirst. "You didn't have a pulse, Danny. You weren't breathing and CPR wasn't working. After… after everything, I couldn't lose you too, alright? I can't really explain it - - it doesn't really make any sense."

Pull it together, McGarrett.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to say the words he'd avoided for so long. "I offered you my energy. I didn't know what else to do, okay? Then a wave of exhaustion hit me and you started breathing again. You somehow took what I gave and kickstarted yourself."

At that, Danny's eyes slipped closed, hands still fists on his knees. "Damn it, Steve, you shouldn't have done that! Do you have any idea the risk you were taking? Do you know what I could've done to you?"

"I didn't care!" This time, it was Steve's turn for righteous anger. "You were dead, Daniel! What the hell is the matter with you? And another thing: don't talk to me about risk! You knew damn well that you were pushing your limits when you kept healing me!"

"That's not the same thing!"

"Like hell it isn't! Why would you expect me to do anything different when it was your sorry ass in danger? Huh?"

He expected a heated retort, his own temper flaring for this 3 a.m. argument. Yet, one glance at Danny revealed none of the anger he'd anticipated. No, his partner almost appeared… confused.

"Chin said the same thing the other day," Danny murmured, forehead wrinkling. "Kono too."

Deescalating along with Danny, Steve forced his shoulders to uncurl and looked out at the breaking waves. "Well, three people telling you that oughta get it through your thick skull, huh?"

"You're the one with the thick skull," Danny shot back immediately, voice unexpectedly fond. "Don't think I haven't noticed all those 'I'm not strong enough' comments. You're not a one-man army, and you don't gotta take the weight of the world on your shoulders. That's why you've got a partner and a freaking team to back you up. So enough with the guilt trip, babe."

Steve's jaw dropped, head whipping around to meet Danny's steady gaze. He shouldn't have been surprised, but sometimes he forgot just how observant his best friend was. Even exhausted and hurting, Danny was a damn good detective.

Still, regret gnawed at the frayed edges of his soul, and he blurted out, "I'm not strong, Danny. I'm barely an elite on a team of powerhouses. I left you. I couldn't protect you and let Kingsley use me as leverage. How can you follow me knowing that?"

Shifting in his seat to face Steve, Danny let loose a low hiss. "We all made mistakes on this case, Steve. I lied to the whole team, and yet you all came after me anyway without hesitation - somethin' I'm still trying to wrap my mind around. And secondly, we follow you because of who you are. You're a great man - a hero with a heart of gold despite your tendency to blow stuff up unnecessarily. That's more important than any stupid elite abilities."

Heart lodged firmly in his throat, Steve dared to ask, "You think so?"

"Yeah, I do. Strength isn't the key to success for Five-0." Words full of a hidden wonder, Danny's blue eyes glinted in the pale moonlight. "We just need to be together. When one person falls, the others pick them up - even if it means illegally invading a freakin' cargo ship or taking down a criminal empire."

"Or taking energy when you need it." Steve held up a hand, stalling all of Danny's arguments. "I'm not asking for you to heal yourself from every little cut, buddy," he said softly. "I know this is hard and that you got stuff to work through. But please, don't make me have to tell Gracie that I lost her dad, alright?"

It was a dirty move, but an effective one. Eyes troubled, Danny slowly nodded. "I'll do everything in my power to keep you from needing to do that, but I can't make any promises, Steve."

"That's all I ask, D."

"And just 'cause I can heal you doesn't mean you have an excuse to jump off buildings or pull any crazy stunts. I will sit there and laugh at you when you get hurt from doing something stupid."

"Sure, Danno."

"Don't call me Danno!"

Steve smirked and said nothing, allowing the stillness of the night to resume its natural rhythm. Despite the hellishness of this case, something inside him had finally settled into place - becoming an irrevocable part of his identity. It wasn't peace necessarily - no, that hadn't been a part of his life since his mom died. But something else, not entirely foreign but nearly forgotten, grounded him to this time and space. A feeling of belonging.

A sense, perhaps, of home.

"We have a good team," he murmured before he could stop himself. "I mean, I don't know anyone else who'd conduct a semi-illegal raid and stage a kidnapping just to ensure the safety of their coworkers."

He didn't really expect Danny to respond, but a jaw-cracking yawn heralded his partner's slurred weigh-in. "Mmm, 'm pretty sure they'd go t' the moon if we needed them. If I had t' choose between goin' to Jersey or helpin' you guys, dunno what I'd pick."

Despite it all, Steve grinned. "Bold words, Danny. The task force has only been a thing for like six months, y'know."

But his friend didn't rise to the bait, flapping his hand even as his eyes slipped shut. "We care for each other like a family, right? Your words, babe."

And there, under the sleeping sky and with his childhood home lying behind him, a single tear trickled down Steve McGarrett's cheek with no attempt to wipe it away. Family, Danny'd said, quoting him. He hadn't had one of those in a very long time.

Yet, looking at the sleeping form of a man he decidedly considered a brother, he wondered if he might've finally found one once more. One that made him better than great, powers or no.

"Right."

Danny was well and truly out and clearly didn't hear him, head tilted at an odd angle sure to make the man grumpy in the morning. He'd usher the injured detective back to bed in a moment, but he couldn't quite abandon the moment just yet. No, this 3 a.m. stillness had garnered profound revelations and deserved a moment of recognition.

Truth be told, he didn't know where he'd be today if he hadn't drawn guns with Danny in his father's garage. Somehow, that moment manifested into a gift far greater than the most powerful of superhuman abilities.

Eyes floating over the dark waves and up to the twinkling stars, Steve simply nodded once. "Thanks," he whispered to no one in particular, but the sentiment was heartfelt nonetheless. "Mahalo me ko'u naau a pau."

Then he rose and hoisted Danny up off the chair as gently as he could to head inside, completely missing the sight of one star winking back at him.

And there we go! Just to be clear, neither of them are totally "over" what happened - both with Kingsley and in the past. But they're both healing. One chapter left! Can't wait to finally share the conclusion of this tale with you all!