A/N: So, I thought that after that first chapter, I was done with this. I was wrong. As per last time, this story is set at the end of the episode Ki'ilua, wherein Steve runs off to North Korea because he'd do anything for a friend. However, it bears now a warning for slight slash (nothing graphic, promise). I don't own the characters or the established plot, just this one little segment. Friends don't let friends get sued.

Even with his eyes closed, as Steve woke from his restless sleep, he knew something was wrong. He kept his eyes closed lightly for the benefit of anyone who might be near as he tried to pin down what, exactly, was setting off the danger alarm in the back of his head.

H assessed the situation blind, not an unfamiliar practice, trying to determine what had changed. He was no longer on the plane; he could tell from the sounds and smells around him that he was moving through the jungle, but the wooden planking beneath him didn't belong to his or any of his friends' cars. For a moment, he tried to convince himself that he had been moved to the back of Joe's truck, but the echo of the muffled sound and the stillness of the air were all wrong.

None of this, though, had been what had alerted him to the danger of his situation. His blood seemed to chill in his veins as he realized that the strong, reassuring hand was gone from his arm; Danny had left him.

Facing the risk, Steve opened his eyes to see a dark world of drab green canvas all around him. The truck barreled over a bump in the road, and Steve was tossed in the air like so much luggage. Pain screamed through his sides as his broken ribs settled back into place. Steve looked down at his broken body, around at the old military truck, and felt the confusion evaporate, a cold and deadly certainty gripping his heart.

It really had been too good to be true. The rescue he had thought he had received was the product of his fevered, broken mind, and Steve cursed himself for not knowing better, for allowing himself to hope. "No." He had meant it as a scream, but the word escaped only as a broken whisper, his throat too raw and damaged to give voice to anything more.

As he felt the truck shudder to a halt, Steve stared desperately at the canvas flap covering the opening to the compartment, willing Danny's face to pop into view with his comfortable, familiar grin. The cover stirred, and for a moment Steve's heart leapt into his throat.

But it plummeted back into his stomach as he realized what was happening. The face which filled the small opening, while familiar, filled Steve with a combination of rage, despair and fear he would never admit to. This face was dark where Danny was light, cold where Danny was full of warmth, stone where Danny, though he would never admit it aloud, was all too soft. His smile was cruel and held the promise of the horrible things to come.

"Commander, I was just about to go for a walk. Would you care to join me?" Wo Fat held out his arm to pull Steve to his feet and lead him out of the truck.

Steve tried valiantly to spit in the man's face, but he couldn't summon the strength. The bloody spittle dripped down his face, though, and the message was clearly received. Wo Fat's smile disappeared as he grabbed Steve's arm.

"Now, now, Commander. You should know by now that I won't take no for an answer."

As Steve stepped out into the sunlight, stumbling on his injured legs and cut, bare feet, and nearly collapsing under his own weight, he tried to take in the scene around him. It was difficult at first as his eyes, grown used to the dim light let into the truck, adjusted to the near-blinding direct sunlight, but he could see that all three of the trucks had stopped. Some of the soldiers had left their seats in the vehicles and were milling around the clearing into which the caravan had pulled. It seemed not much was happening, and, in fact, the most interesting thing Steve saw as he glanced around was the gun in Wo Fat's belt.

The man led him shambling forward to a path which would lead them away from the clearing. As they traveled slowly through the oppressive jungle, Steve's mind raced through countless scenarios, trying to imagine a means of escape, but none presented itself.

Steve refused to acknowledge the fatalistic sense of dread gripping his stomach. He tried not to think of Danny and his team and all the promises he wouldn't be able to keep.

Without warning, Wo Fat hit him from behind, dropping Steve to his knees. Slowly walking a circle around him, Wo Fat took the gun from his belt and began to speak, the chilling smile returning to its place.

"You know something, Commander? I liked Hawaii. I had a fantastic arrangement with Governor Jameson, my business was flourishing, I didn't think anyone could touch me. After I had your father killed, I thought I was unstoppable. I grew complacent, and it took and inconvenience like you for me to see the…error of my ways. I want to thank you for that. But not nearly so much as I want to destroy you and everything you've ever loved. Since you won't be around to see it, I'm going to do you a favor and tell you exactly what comes next."

Wo Fat paused a moment, standing behind him, and laughed a little, something Steve had never heard before. It was a dark, manic sound. "First, as I'm sure you've concluded on your own, I kill you here in this jungle. Then, after a few more days of preparation, I make my triumphant return to Hawaii. That starts with the deaths of your team and anyone foolish enough to get close to them." Standing in front of Steve now, Wo Fat paused again. Steve could see in his eyes that he was picturing the ways in which he would kill the people in his way.

"Ah, but then? Then I pay a visit to Governor Denning and find out what sort of financial arrangement he feels he is entitled to." Wo Fat's face grew serious as he considered this, still pacing his slow, lazy circles around Steve. "He will be more expensive than Jameson at first, but I'm confident we will find a good balance in time." Wo Fat looked down at Steve. "Why, Commander, you look surprised. Denning was her second-in-command for years; did you really think he didn't know about me?" He laughed his sadistic laugh again, and it made Steve's skin crawl.

"Now, you may ask yourself, why would I tell you all this?" Wo Fat finally stopped his infernal circling and came to stand in front of Steve, the smile wider than his face should have allowed. "It's simple, Commander. I want you to know what is going to happen. I want you to know the suffering that will continue long after you are gone. And I want you to know that you could have stopped it. I am offering you a way out, one last chance to save yourself and your friends." Wo Fat shrugged offhandedly. "I may even leave Hawaii alone for a time. All you have to do," he said, cocking his gun and dropping his smile, "is to tell me what you know about Shelburne."

Steve glared up at the madman, knowing there was nothing he could do to save his friends and his home. Hell, he couldn't even save himself.

Wo Fat matched his glare as he looked down on Steve with disgust, shaking his head. "You're far more stubborn than your father was." He pulled the trigger.

Steve bolted upright in the darkness, his eyes wild and his bare chest covered in a cold sweat. He sat that way for a long time, until the panting stopped and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He found an easy comfort in the familiar walls of his bedroom. The memories came rushing back, and he knew that he was safe.

Steve had expected to be plagued by the nightmares, he had known them before fro countless missions he chose not to think about, but he had never imagined that they would be so vivid, so real.

Realizing that he was home, that he was safe, that he and his team had beaten Wo Fat's plans and escaped the hell of North Korea, he felt a boundless joy filling his bandaged chest. He couldn't stop the laughter swelling up from deep inside.

Steve was still laughing as he fell back against his mattress, eliciting a deep groan from the warm lump beside him on the bed. A hand reached out and grabbed his arm. "You okay?" The voice was groggy and slurred.

Steve grinned up at the ceiling, unable to turn onto his injured side. "I'm fine, Dano." He chuckled.

Danny groaned again, rolling over to lay an arm lightly around Steve's waist. "Then shut up and go back to sleep, you maniac."

Steve laughed again, sliding an arm around Danny. Making a mental note to start looking into Denning in the morning, Steve drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.