A New Year's update on our boy. Enjoy!

Catherine glanced at the slowly and steadily beeping heart rate monitor next to Steve's bed. Steve was going to be okay, he had to be. But it wasn't easy to see him like that. It wasn't easy to just sit back and do nothing. Her heart ached, but she had to push through it.

"Hey", Catherine said softly, knowing well that Steve couldn't hear her. She grabbed his hand gently as she looked down at him.

The bruises on Steve's face were still in the hues of red and purple with a barely visible dash of blue. He had a swollen, black eye and a split lip, a sight that made Catherine's stomach twist. The pearls of cold sweat ran down Steve's forehead as his body desperately tried to fight the fever.

"I know you", Catherine said, tears forming in her eyes as she stared at unconscious Steve. "I know you're strong enough to get better. I'm sorry I can't do more for you, I really am. You…", her voice broke. "You have to get better. We need you here."

She wiggled in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position as she knew she was going to spend some time there.

"The doc said they lowered the amounts of sedatives so you can wake up," she kept talking to him. "And it's up to you now, so please hurry back. Danny's going crazy and I don't know how much longer I'll be able to handle it for." She threw Steve a half-smile, knowing he couldn't see it.

"Anyway, Dr. Cliff also said the best we can do for you is talk to you, so that's exactly what we're gonna do," Catherine said. Tears formed in her eyes as she glanced over Steve's unmoving body again, hoping he would just open his eyes, but nothing happened.

Danny watched the sun setting from behind the window of Steve's hospital room, wondering. The colors playing on the sky above the green mountains made his home look like from a fairy tale.

Home. This place, which he once considered a pineapple-infested hell hole, was now his home. But it was not because he loved the heat, the bright sun, the endless ocean, lush green jungle or the sandy beaches. No, it was because over nine years ago he'd met a stubborn SEAL, who changed his life. It was thanks to Steve, Danny, and his kids were now a part of a big ohana and they wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. He made them feel at home.

He sighed and headed back to the chair, realizing this place would never feel like the same anymore without the man lying in the bed in front of him.

"I don't know if you can hear me, buddy," Danny mumbled for what had felt like the hundredth time that day. "But I'll keep trying because I know you're in there. And you need to come back to us." It felt so wrong not hearing Steve say anything back to him.

There was one thing Danny kept repeating to himself - he couldn't lose Steve. He just had to wake up, to come back to them, to him. Because not only was a world without Steve the world he wouldn't want to live in, it was also one he knew he couldn't live in. It was simply not an option.

It's been over three days since Steve's second surgery, the day when the ventilator that had been breathing for him was finally removed. It has been the first good news since they brought him in. But Danny knew Steve wasn't out of the woods yet. There were still so many things that could go wrong and the doctor's words about the will of the patients to fight their way back haunted him.

Danny decided to keep talking to his best friend, hoping it would irritate him enough to wake up and tell him to finally shut up. He even called him a soldier several times, waiting for his reaction. He told him how everyone's doing, that his sister and his little niece are in Hawaii, waiting for him to wake up. He told him about the team, about Grace and Charlie, how they're doing at school and how they are worried about their superhero uncle. Danny did his best to give his friend a reason to wake up, to fight, to prove the doctors wrong. But nothing happened so far.

"You know," Danny kept on going. "The doc said I should avoid any topics that might disturb you, but I think you deserve to know."

Danny released a long sigh and kept talking. "You gave that son of a bitch Aaron what he'd deserved. I'm glad you did. I'm pretty sure if you wouldn't do it, I would put a bullet in his head. And we got his men, Steve, till the last one. They're all dead or in Halawa by now. But…," Danny got stuck, wondering how to break it to his sleeping partner. "But you should know, Esther... she…."

His voice was full of guilt when it came to the woman behind Steve's torture. "Esther is in the wind and it's my fault. I had her, Steve, I had a gun aimed at her chest and I let her get away. But… uh, we're looking for her ever since. Actually, we've got Junior and Tani running a lead right now. We'll find her, buddy. I promised you. And I intend on keeping that promise."

Just the thought Esther was out there, free and unpunished made Danny physically sick. But right now, Steve was a priority. As soon as he'll be all right, Danny would go through hell to bring her to justice. But for now, he trusted the team to do their best finding the woman who caused this. His place right now was beside his best friend, to be there for him when he wakes up.

And he will wake up. Danny wasn't ready to consider any other option because a world without Steve in it was just too dark to live in. He wiggled in the chair and glanced over Steve's too pale face. Sweat was beading on his forehead and the dark shadows lined his eyes.

Pressing the back of his hand to his friend's cheek, he frowned. Steve was burning up, fighting the infection on top of all of his other injuries. It wasn't like he didn't expect that, he didn't have to be a professional to know that it's what a stab into intestines would do. But it didn't worry him any less.

Danny reached for Steve's hand, squeezing it gently but desperately, silently pleading him to wake up.

"I need you to wake up, Steve," he whispered and tears formed in his eyes, his voice breaking. "I… I know maybe you think you don't have a reason to open your eyes anymore but you do. All they've made you do, it wasn't you, Steve. It's none of your fault." Danny looked up and glanced over Steve's face, expecting his short speech to have an immediate effect. Nothing.

"Come on, Steven, don't do this to me. We need you. I need you! If you're not going to wake up because of yourself, do it for me, for Gracie and Charlie, those kids love you too. Can you not be so stubborn for once? Please? Just for once. I can't even imagine what would I do if you didn't wake up so don't make me think about that."

With no response Danny squeezed Steve's hand a bit tighter, blinking away the tears as a wave of guilt had swallowed him. He could have prevented this. He should have been there, he shouldn't have left him. Steve was fighting for his life because of him.

"I love you, buddy. I'm sorry I didn't have your back when you needed me," he whispered. "I know I don't have the right to ask for anything but, you have to wake up. I need you."

His heart lurched and his head whipped up in a fraction of second. He thought he saw a slight glimpse of movement and he would swear he'd felt Steve squeeze his hand back, albeit weakly. He didn't wait another second and pressed the nurse's call button.

"Steve?" Danny said. "Steve, buddy, are you with me? Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Maybe it was just his imagination, his mind tricking him into seeing what he'd wanted so much. His heart sank with the realization just as the nurse entered the room.

Steve had been waiting for his final breath but it never came. He thought he was ready to let go but then his heart had beaten one more time, and then again, and again. The voices he couldn't place kept speaking to him every time he'd decided to let go, keeping him alive for a little while longer, just so he could hear them one more time.

There was this soothing voice talking to him again. Just like so many times before, except this time, Steve was more aware of it and for the first time, he could match the voice with the face. It was Danny's voice. Steve was certain of that. His voice was sad, pleading. Why was Danny sad? Was he hurt?

Did Danny say he needed him? Danny needed him, he must have been hurt. Danny - hurt. A loud noise echoed Steve's head and blood froze in his veins as he realized what the sound was. A gunshot. Followed by grave quiet. He wondered what had happened. "I'm sorry, Danno," he heard his own voice in his head and then there was another gunshot. Steve saw a vivid image of what had happened. There was so much blood everywhere, blame in the blank gaze of blue eyes of his partner. Danny was dead. He'd killed his best friend. No, he wouldn't do that, would he? Why would he kill the most important person in his life?

In the next second, an evil grin of a pretty woman crossed his mind. "Danny Williams," she said. "He's your target." She kept repeating it, over and over and over again, the gun laid within his reach. Steve loathed that woman, so why couldn't he make himself to grab it and turn it against her? "Danny Williams. He's your target." Those words were engraved in his brain. "Danny Williams. He's your target." It kept replaying in his mind along with an image of dead Danny.

The images of his best friend lying motionless on the dirty floor began to flood his mind and a strange concoction of emotions washed through him: sadness, fear, hatred. But it was the hatred that stuck. Not for Danny, but for the woman who caused this to happen. Esther Bennett. It was all her fault. She'd made him kill Danny. Danny was dead, because of her.

At that moment, Steve determined two things. First: he wasn't giving up. He would survive. He would battle through the pain, he would fight on. And second: maybe not overnight, but one day, he would make Esther Bennett pay.

It was almost morning when Danny got woken up by sounds coming from Steve's bed. Realizing Steve'd been fidgeting under the sheets he jumped up and called the nurse, then looked at his friend.

"Steve?"

Danny was certain this time, he was coming around and his lips curled into half-smile. He'd been waiting for this for what felt like forever.

The sweat trickled down Steve's face and neck as he wiggled in the bed, his eyes still closed.

"Steve," Danny repeated, his voice soft. "Hey, buddy. Are you awake?"

Steve didn't answer, but his breathing became visibly faster just as the nurse came in through the door.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I think he's waking up," Danny replied.

The nurse approached Steve, whose breathing was off the track, gently touching his arm. "You're all right, Commander," she ensured her patient.

Steve's first reflex was to lash out, albeit weekly. His arms were restrained almost immediately upon his first wild swing, which didn't add to his discomfort. He struggled harder against the grip, his hands curled into fists. The breaths came in shallow gasps for air as he struggled to draw air into the lungs.

"Commander, you need to calm down," someone shouted but he ignored the female voice, the words hardly penetrated his skull.

"Steve? Steve!" another voice tried to speak to him, but it just made him jumpier, eager to fight.

"Come on, Steve… You're all right! You're safe, you're safe," the same voice pleaded. "Can you hear me? Look at me, buddy."

Weird, he would swear it was Danny's voice. But Danny wasn't here, was he? Danny was dead, he'd shot him. "D… D'anno?" he called out, his voice shaking. "Danno."

"I'm right here, babe. Open your eyes!"

No, that wasn't his Danno. Danny was dead. His brother, the only constant in his life. His anchor, always there for him, every step of the way. He'd been there when he needed him the most. Every single time. He'd been there when Wo Fat captured and tortured him in North Korea, he'd supported him on Freddie's funeral, he'd been there when Catherine left him heartbroken, he'd been there when Taliban almost executed him, he'd been there when Wo Fat tortured him again, he'd flown to Montana to get him, to help him avenge Joe's death, he'd come to get him to Washington when his mother died, just to make sure he would make it home. Danny had saved him every single time he needed to be saved, literally and figuratively. All these images were flying through his mind, his friend had always been there for him no matter what.

But Danny wasn't here this time. It was just another evil trick of his mind, he knew that. It couldn't be his friend's voice.

A loud noise of the heart monitor alarms went off somewhere close, just making the unbearable headache even worse. Steve saw him. He saw Danny lying on the concrete floor, his shirt soaked in blood, his skin pale and his baby blue eyes unfocused, dead, staring at him, blaming him for his death.

No, he couldn't be dead. He refused to believe that. His Danno was all right, he'd spoken to him before. Or was it just a dream? He had to open his eyes, he had to save him, Danny couldn't be dead. He said he needed him, he heard him saying that - it was real.

He fluttered his eyes open, but the room around was a blur, he couldn't make out any shapes, just the light that was way too bright. Exhausted, he closed his eyes again, a whisper of his friend's name was the only sound he could make. "D'nno?"

"Steve, just look at me. I'm right here! Come on, buddy. Open your eyes, please. I'm here."

Steve tried harder to free himself from the grip, but none of his futile attempts worked.

"We need to sedate him, he'll hurt himself," a woman said and Steve's heart sank. Sedate him - drugs. No, this was not happening. He didn't want to be drugged up, not again. He couldn't let her do that again, there was no time, he had to help Danny.

Gathering the strength to move, Steve pulled his arms stronger, but he still felt a strong grip of hands on his wrists. He remembered being restrained like this, fighting against the metal on his wrists, cutting deeper into his skin with every move. Steve shook his head in panic, he didn't want to be back there. He didn't want to think about that place. But it must have been all a dream, he'd never been saved, he was still in that small cell and Esther was playing with his mind. He yanked his limbs against the grip in frustration again, but they didn't move.

"No. No, let me go. Danny!" he called out again, the words a mere whisper. Maybe there was still time to save him, he just had to free himself.

"I'm here, Steve. I'm here," Danny called out. "Easy, babe, you'll hurt yourself. You're okay, I'm right here. Can you open your eyes for me?"

"D… Danny?" Steve whispered, this time calmer, finally registering Danny's calming voice, the futile attempts to fight going weaker. He lifted his heavy eyelids and recognized people standing above him, but his mind and sight were too foggy to make out the faces. It made him dizzy, so he let his eyes shut close again.

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm right here, buddy," Danny reassured him. "You're all right, you're in a hospital. I'm right here with you, you're safe."

It was hard to fight the exhaustion that grew up every second. The drugs. Esther must have drugged him up again. His limbs felt heavier and numb and darkness threatened to succumb him completely. "Danno," he managed to whisper one more time before he was out cold.

Steve looked a little better than the last time she'd been with him. At least now he was finally out of the ICU, which allowed them longer visits. As Catherine slouched down onto the seat, Steve murmured and wriggled, then opened his eyes a little. Catherine continued to sit, staring at Steve, waiting to see whether he would drift back off or come around. After a few moments, he turned her head toward her, grimacing in pain as he did so.

When Steve opened his eyes, the world in front of him was blurred and swirling. He squinted to try to bring it into focus. He was lying in a bed. The room was not one he immediately recognized and it took a few seconds to recall what had happened and where he was. The pain was still there, but it felt different this time, he was just briefly aware of the dull pain in his abdomen. It wasn't like somebody was ripping his insides out of his body like the last time he remembered. His body was trembling, his face twisted in discomfort. A sheet of cold sweat glimmered on his forehead.

"Hey. Welcome back."

A woman's voice. At first, he couldn't place it. The drugs were making his brain cloudy and confused. But then he remembered where he knew the voice from. He'd been dreaming about her. Not a nightmare. A real dream.

As his senses returned, he saw he was lying on a hospital bed, white sheets draped over him. To his side were various machines and monitors. A drip bag was attached by a tube to a cannula in his hand. Other than that, a sink, a chair beside his bed, couch, and a closed white cabinet, the room was bare. He tried to sit up, pushing on the bed with his elbows. But he had forgotten about his injuries and cried out as pain sliced through him.

"Take it easy, Steve," Catherine said, gently pushing him back down.

"Cath," he said half surprised, after waiting for the shooting pain to subside. What was Catherine doing here? Was she real?

"Hey, sailor," she said, resting her hand on the back of Steve's hand. "I'm glad you're back."

As soon as his vision cleared up, his eyes scanned through her and it was hard to miss her tired, red eyes. But what made his heart lurch was not her face, but the red and purple stains on her neck, sticking out on her otherwise perfect skin. He immediately remembered it was his fault. It was him who had done that to her. He was responsible for how things had turned out. Memories rushed back into his mind, his eyes now open as wide as he was able to open them.

"It's not your fault, Steve. None of this is," Catherine said. Perhaps she had recognized the look of discontent on his face. Even after all this time, she knew him better than he knew himself.

He yanked his hand away from her, thinking about why was she even still there after what had happened. The memories of him strangling her came back in flashes, causing his breath to become more rapid and shallow. Then an image of his bleeding partner came into his mind. Danny wasn't there with her. He was dead. A gunshot echoed in Steve's head, the one he fired at his best friend. Panic surged through his body with the thought, making the beeps on the monitor faster. "D… Danny?" he called out.

"He's all right. Danny is on his way back here," Catherine responded. "I've forced him to get a shower and something to eat at least. It's been a while since you were out and he refused to leave your side most of the time. He scared the hospital staff fighting them so he could stay with you."

"How… How long?"

"You've been asleep for four days, give or take. They've had you pretty drugged up."

"Sure they did."

"How are you feeling?"

Like crap, he wanted to say. His head felt like a balloon. His limbs were sore and heavy and his stomach felt like he'd eaten the razor blades. His eyes fluttered to fight the drowsiness threatening to succumb him back to sleep. "Fine," he lied. "I'm ready to get out of here."

"Not so fast, sailor," Catherine said through a slight grin, not buying it at all. "Your doctor might have something to say about that. And I'm pretty sure you would have to go through Danny if you were about to leave like this."

Catherine's grin turned upside down when she noticed the sudden change of look in Steve's face. "Hey, what is it?"

The words he had let out were merely a whisper. "I… I'm sorry."

"Stop it," she said before he could say anything more. "Don't go down the blame road, okay? How about you get some more sleep? You need to rest now."

He wanted to protest, to stay awake, but his eyelids felt so heavy and tired. He blinked several times in an attempt to fight the drowsiness.

"Don't fight it, Steve. Just get some sleep," Catherine said, smiling. "Don't you worry about anything else except getting better, okay?"

" 'kay." Steve nodded in defeat and let his eyes shut close. He was out in a matter of seconds.

Catherine waited for him to fall asleep, then she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. It was funny how people never say what they want to say until it's almost too late. There was something she was afraid to say out loud and she'd almost lost the chance to do so. The thought crossed her mind, forcing the words out.

"I love you, Steve," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears she tried to hold back until now. "Walking away from the future with you was the biggest mistake in my life. I love you and I should have told you a long time ago."

For the next twenty minutes, she just sat on the chair quietly, holding his hand reassuring him that she was there for him, that they were all there for him.

Another night had fallen on Oahu. Danny's head was pounding and he just wanted to sleep finally but he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he knew Steve was all right. His awakening yesterday scared the crap out of him, and seeing Steve so scared and confused, calling his name all over again was breaking his heart. He couldn't sleep yet, he needed his friend to wake up, to talk to him. Steve had been awake several times since then but never lucid enough to have a conversation with him. Catherine told him Steve was awake for a minute earlier on that day and that he even communicated, but he needed to see for himself.

He'd been sitting on the chair beside Steve's bed for hours now, pretending to read a magazine that Lou brought him when he finally heard his friend's weak voice.

"D'nno?" Steve murmured so quietly, Danny could barely hear him.

Danny's head lifted up, his fingers instantly reached for Steve's hand. "Steve. Hey, babe, I'm here."

Steve's eyes were half-open, staring right at him. He definitely looked more lucid than the last time Danny saw him awake.

"Wa-ter," Steve murmured. His throat felt like sandpaper.

Danny quickly grabbed a glass of water with the straw, holding it to Steve's mouth. After a few small sips, Steve put his head back to pillow, thankful for the soothing liquid in this throat.

"You really know how to scare me, you know?" Danny said, his lips forming into a slight smile.

Steve blinked his eyes and curled his lips into a frown as he looked over at Danny. A relieved smile on his friend's face wasn't enough to cover up how worried and exhausted he was. And then, the first thing on Steve's mind when their eyes had met, was Danny's blood staining his white shirt. Because he pulled the trigger. Steve tried to push that image into the back of his head. "You okay?" he asked, glancing over Danny to make sure his friend was really alive.

"I should be asking you that," Danny replied. "You're the one in a hospital bed."

Danny hated Bennetts with every cell in his body for what they've done to Steve. He did nothing to deserve that. No one should ever go through such an ordeal, let alone his best friend. Seeing him so confused and in pain was breaking his heart.

"I shot you," Steve murmured and tried to yank his hand away, but Danny didn't let go.

And there it was. Danny expected Steve feeling guilty, he'd feel the same if the roles were reversed. But he didn't expect it so soon.

Their eyes met, tears threatening to fall out of Steve's eyes. Danny could understand the way Steve felt because he would feel the same had their places been switched. The guilt would eat him alive, as he knew was now eating up Steve. And he just woke up. Danny was certain it won't get any better once his mind is clear of all the sedatives. He knew Steve had a long road ahead of him, but he would be there for him, every step of the way.

"I'm fine, buddy. Really, I am," Danny said, not letting his grip go. "How are you feeling?"

Steve stared at Danny completely unconvinced, despite a grin on his friend's face. He remembered how much blood there had been everywhere, how his friend had fought to stay awake back then. Danny's face looked paler than usual, his eyes dark-rimmed and red, his usually perfectly styled hair were messy and it looked like he didn't shave for at least a week. But he was alive. It took another squeeze of his hand to make sure Danny was real.

"Better," Steve replied eventually.

Danny didn't seem convinced either, but he was just glad to see his partner awake and lucid finally. The doctor had told him he was still running a high fever, he was still weak and drowsy from the sedatives, but at least he could breathe on his own, his organs seemed to function normally, and he didn't wake up with a panic attack this time. Despite what the doctor said just a few days ago, the prognosis was now much better and Steve was on his way to recovery.

Steve shifted in his position, trying to sit up. His face wrinkled in pain. It didn't appear to Danny to have been worth the effort - Steve only managed to move himself a few inches before he gave up.

"Easy, buddy," Danny said.

"Put me upright, will you?" Steve asked.

Danny shook his head. "Not gonna happen, not yet," he said. "You stay down and rest."

Steve released a sigh but obeyed reluctantly. He remained silent as the small pieces of memories came rushing to him.

"You had me worried, Steven," Danny said. "What did I tell you, huh? Don't get yourself killed. Will you ever listen to me?" His voice was not angry, just genuinely worried and relieved at the same time.

"I didn't," Steve replied with what seemed a great effort, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Yes, you did," Danny protested, replaying the scenes in his mind. "Your heart stopped, Steve. I watched you die, twice. Please don't ever… ever do that to me again."

Danny's eyes filled with tears when he remembered the moment his friend's heart stopped beating, the attempts of the military doctor to bring him back felt unreal and time stood still. And then it'd happened again, on the way to the hospital, breaking Danny's heart for the second time as he just had to watch, unable to do anything. He shook his head to get rid of that image and focus on Steve here and now.

Steve huffed and turned away from Danny, staring up at the ceiling. "Why are you here?" he asked.

Danny opened his mouth but shut it straight away. A sudden change of demeanor took him by surprise. "Why am I… Why would you even ask that?" Danny managed to say after a moment of silence, offended by such a question.

Steve remained silent, his eyes still avoiding Danny. The question hung in the air, the room falling deathly silent except for the hum of the monitor and the bleeps coming from it with every beat of his heart - they were noticeably faster now.

"Steve," Danny said when his friend turned his head in the opposite direction. "Where else would I be? Huh? What kind of question is that? You're my best friend. You know I'm exactly where I want to be. By your side."

Steve squeezed his eyes as the sound of a gunshot echoed in his head, he was trying hard to get it out of his mind. "You shouldn't be here. I could hurt you. I shot you but you're still here."

Steve's words were breaking Danny's heart. Just the fact Steve had thought Danny didn't want to be there hurt him more than the gunshot itself. "No. No, you wouldn't hurt me, buddy. What had happened, it wasn't your fault, all right?" he said. "I know I usually say everything bad that happens to me is your fault but not this time, Steve."

Steve didn't answer, didn't look at him.

Danny desperately needed Steve to know he was serious. He'd never blame Steve for what had happened. He was drugged and brainwashed, forced to go against everything he believed in. How could Steve even think he would be angry, that he wouldn't want to be with him?

"Look at me, Steven," Danny said, raising his voice. "I said, look at me."

Steve reluctantly turned his head back to Danny slowly, his glassy eyes meeting Danny's.

"I need you to know it wasn't you. It wasn't your fault, babe. I'm not angry, how could I be?" Danny had to admit that if circumstances were different, he would probably nag Steve about getting him shot again, but not this time. That was the last thing his partner should hear right now and he wouldn't blame him for that, not now, not ever, not even as a joke.

"What I saw when you pointed that gun at me was something else. That wasn't you."

Danny certainly sounded a lot more confident about that than Steve'd felt. He knew where this conversation was going but he didn't want to listen anymore, he didn't want to do this right now.

"I'm pretty tired, Danny," he said, ignoring his friend's attempts to make him feel better. "You should…"

"I know," Danny said, his heart shattering. "I know you're tired. I'll let you sleep." He knew it was just Steve's way of avoiding this conversation. He didn't blame him though, it was too soon for that.

Steve had remained silent as the new flashes of memories started to invade his mind.

"Steve, what are you doing? Come on, drop the gun."

"Steve, drop the gun, please. He's your best friend, you don't want to hurt him."

"I don't want to hurt him. I have to."

"Give me the gun, please."

"I'm sorry, Danno."

When Steve snapped out of the thoughts, he looked over at Danny who was watching him intently. He could see the anguish in Danny's eyes. Danny's need for Steve to acknowledge that everything was okay between them, was written all over his face. But Steve couldn't talk to Danny right now, everything in his head was a big mess, he just wanted to be alone.

"I'm really tired, Danny. I think you should go home," Steve said and looked up to the ceiling, not being able to handle the pain he knew he was causing Danny with those words.

You should go home. Those words felt like a punch in the gut. Danny almost forgot how the home looked like as he'd been basically living in the office for days and then in the hospital ever since they've found Steve. It broke his heart that he was asked to leave by the one person he never thought he would hear it from. When Steve woke up the last time, the only thing he could say was Danny's name and now here he was, asking him to leave, not even being able to look at him.

"Okay."

Steve couldn't miss the pain in Danny's voice and he considered to tell him to stay, but he couldn't. It was just not right for Danny to be there, not after what Steve had done to him. He needed some alone time to think about it all. No, he couldn't ask Danny to stay, no matter how painful was to see the look in Danny's eyes at that moment. The decision had been made and Steve hoped it was the right one.

"Okay. I'll be back later," Danny said as he stood up and walked toward the doorway. He was about to close the door behind him when he heard Steve's voice behind his back, making him turn around.

"Danny?"

"Yeah?"

Meeting Danny's eyes Steve had opened his mouth but the words died out on his lips.

"Steve?" There was a brief moment when Danny thought Steve had changed his mind and wanted him to stay, but he was soon proven wrong.

"Uh… Nothing," Steve said eventually. I'm just glad you're alive. I'm sorry for almost killing you. I'm sorry my mind wasn't strong enough to fight that. I'm sorry you get to be my partner and suffer because of me.

He didn't say any of those thoughts out loud. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and allowed his best friend to walk away.

So? What do you think about this chapter?

Thanks a lot for the support and your reviews, guys. It means a lot!