And here we are with Round 4!

Thank you to everyone who left reviews on the last chapter, and thanks once more to all the Guest reviewers that I can't respond to personally. Y'all are beyond wonderful, and never fail to make my day!

A/N: Speaking of Guest reviewers: If you happen to be the Guest reviewer that left me a note with concerns about possible plagiarized copies of my story"Bleeding Out" floating around, just an fyi that both are my stories and my versions! One is posted in my story "Night Visions" and one is posted as a standalone as I purposefully wrote two different endings. But a huge thanks for bringing it my attention regardless!

All standard disclaimers apply, and all thoughts are welcome! Also, fair warning, I'm playing a little bit fast and loose with some medical procedures, so if anyone in the medical profession is reading this, please don't hate me.

"Life isn't always what you'd think it'd be,

Turn your head for one second and the tables turn.

And I know, I know that I did you wrong,

But will you trust me when I say that I'll

Make it up to you somehow, somehow."

"Excuse me?" McGarrett's authoritative ton rang loudly across the crowded yard.

The young officer in front of Steve and Danny swallowed nervously, clearly not expecting that response. "I'm sorry, Commander, but no one is allowed to go in on the orders of the CDC."

Danny could almost see his partner's inner conflict, watched as the SEAL forced his respect for federal authority to the side for a moment to deal with the issue at hand. "There is a body inside that house, the body of a mother, with a scared child, all alone, sitting beside it. You really think there's any way in hell that I'm not going to do something about that?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but you got the call to come out before anyone realized what was happening. But unfortunately, once we realized that the Ambassador had died of something that appeared to be contagious and made the appropriate calls, the CDC ordered the house to be quarantined until the specialist arrives."

"And when will that be?" McGarrett's tone was calm, but deceptively so, for Danny could hear the ring of steel behind his words. "Do we have any sort of ETA on when the specialist is going to show up?"

"Well, sir," and dammit if Danny couldn't see the younger man swallow every time he anxiously said sir, "she's currently on Maui. She's getting here as soon as she can."

"And the girl? Has anyone checked her out? Is she sick? Do we have contact with her?"

"A medic looked her over when he first arrived on the scene, but when he suspected it to be some sort of pox, he left to make the necessary notifications. Since then, he's remained outside and quarantined as well. We do have video contact with the girl, though."

Steve sighed, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. "And this medic didn't think just to remain with her after his initial exposure?"

"I don't know, sir—"

"Do you at least know her status?"

"She, um, appears to be infected with the same thing, sir, but was at least healthier than her mother."

At that point, Danny couldn't help but interject. "Oh really?" He asked sarcastically. "I'm so glad you could clear up that confusion for me, since I wasn't sure if the living girl was healthier than her dead mother or not." The officer paled even further, if that was possible, at Danny's remark. Before the young man could say anything else to dig himself in a bigger hole, Danny took pity on him. "You can go now, Officer Pua. Why don't you go try to get in contact with the CDC specialist again to get an update on timing, and then let us know, okay?"

The young man practically scurried away, and Steve met Danny's eyes with a slight smirk. "I think you practically petrified the guy, Danny."

"Me?" He poked Steve's chest hard, right in the middle. "You! I didn't do anything, Mr. Shoot the Messenger."

Steve smiled and then turned serious again as he turned towards the house. "I know there's protocol for a reason, Danny, but we can't just leave a sick kid in there, next to her parent's corpse."

"Believe me, I'm right there with you, but we also have to mitigate the risk to the rest of the island. Something, I might add, that I feel like you should be telling me, not the other way around."

"I get that, but… Losing a parent is hard enough as a kid, let alone having this added horrible twist to the story."

"Ah." Suddenly Steve's behavior made a little more sense to Danny. "I get that, I do, and as much as I want to be able to get the girl out of there, we can't risk killing all of Oahu. How about before you go charging in there and doing something that will make the federal government really unhappy, we go check in on her on the video link they have set up, yeah?"

Steve nodded, the general air around him still carrying an air of distress. As Danny and he went over to the impromptu commander center that had been set up, the Jersey detective briefly placed a comforting hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed lightly, trying to subtly send some support.

He wasn't sure if it worked or not, but at least when Steve approached the officers huddled around a computer screen, his voice was calm and collected. "I understand we have contact with the daughter?" One of the officers nodded and moved aside, unblocking the view that the computer offered: a sickly, scared looking preteen with pustules spread across her face, staring sadly at something off-screen. "What's her name?" Steve asked quietly.

"Maddie. Maddie Winston."

Steve nodded, and Danny watched as he carefully schooled his features before stepping up in front of the computer's camera. "Maddie? My name is Steve, and we're working on getting you out of there, okay? How are you doing?"

Maddie looked at the camera, running a visibly shaking hand through her hair. "Okay, I guess. I just would really, really like to not be in here anymore."

Steve nodded, and only because Danny knew his partner so well could he see the subtle tightening of his features that indicated his anger at the helplessness of the situation. "I know, Maddie, and we're working on that right now, okay? We've got someone coming to help, and I'm going to be right here the whole time, so you're not going to be alone. We're going to get you out of there as soon as we can."

"Couldn't I just come outside? Isn't there some place that you could let me stay outside? Or just drive me to the hospital? I just r-really don't want to be in here with my m-mom's b-body." She was crying by that point, and Danny was quickly coming around to Steve's idea that certain rules were meant to be broken. "P-please."

She was crying harder now, and for a second it seemed as though the crackling sound of her cries through the speakers were louder than all the other sounds around them. "Maddie, listen to me, just real quick, okay? I lost my mom when I was not too much older than you are now, and it was awful," Steve said quietly, and it struck Danny again that was Doris was his mother, she sure as hell wasn't his mom. "I know that what I went through and what you're going through are completely different, and I know that what you're experiencing right now is so horrible that not one of us here would want to be in your shoes. But you want to know what I know? I know you're a thousand times stronger than I was when I lost my mom, and I know that you're so brave for hanging in there as long as you have. We're going to get you out of that house really soon, okay? I just need you to be brave for a little while longer."

Maddie nodded tearfully, seeming to pull some strength from Steve's words. "H-how did your mom die?"

"She was in a car accident," McGarrett replied, either not realizing or completely ignoring the looks he was getting from the rest of the officers surrounding them; though whether because they knew the story to be somewhat untrue or they didn't know the story at all, Danny wasn't sure. "I felt really alone when it happened, and really scared because I knew that everything was going to change but I didn't know how yet—and I'm betting you're sort of in the same boat, huh?"

"Y-yeah. My dad isn't really around, so it was just Mom and me, and now I don't know what's going to happen to me."

"Do you have any aunts or uncles?" Steve asked, his tone still gentle.

"My aunt lives in California—we visit her a couple times a year." The girl's voice had become calmer, more focused, and Danny was glad that Steve was directing her mind elsewhere, at least for a little bit.

"That's great, Maddie. How about you give your aunt's information to Officer Pua here, and we're going to make sure that your aunt is here as soon as she can. And in the meantime, I'm going to go call our specialist again, okay?"

Maddie nodded again, and then refocused her attention on Pua as he stepped forward to take McGarrett's place in front of the computer, his words just audible as the two members of Five-0 took a step back. "She's not going to make it in there much longer, Danny," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck in a sure sign of frustration.

"I know," Danny replied quietly, shooting a worried glance towards the house. "I just don't know what other options we have."

"I'm thinking—" Whatever Steve was about to say, whatever bright idea he'd been about to share, was lost as Pua suddenly yelled out for help, and both Steve and Danny's attention was immediately dragged back to the computer and Pua's stricken face. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"We were talking, and then all of a sudden she started having problems breathing," Pua responded, stepping aside so that both Steve and Danny could see the image on the screen of Maddie with her hands to her chest, wheezing and fighting for breath, panic written all over her face.

"Where's the medic?" Danny demanded before McGarrett could even open his mouth. "He's got to get back in there."

"Last time I checked, he'd quarantined himself in his ambulance."

Steve nodded. "Officer Pua, keep her calm and make sure she knows help is coming, okay?" Then, without another word, he was marching in the direction of the bus, Danny rushing to keep up with him.

As soon as they got to the ambulance, Steve ripped the back doors of the truck open, much to the ire of the man inside. "Hey! What are you doing? I need to be contained!"

"You have a mask and gloves on, and right now, you need to go back inside that house because that little girl you left in there is having trouble breathing."

The EMT instantly shook his head, eyes wide. "Listen, I'm not going back in there. When I saw those pustules, I got out there as fast as I could, and I am not about to go back inside and risk further exposure to myself."

If Danny weren't so furious at the medic's cowardliness, he would have felt sorry for the other man. McGarrett's anger was coming off of him in waves, and when he spoke, his voice was like ice. "You've already been exposed, and that child could die if you don't get off your ass and go do your fucking job."

"I did not sign up for unidentified and lethal diseases, man! I like my life, and I intend on sticking around to live it, okay? You can't make me go in there again."

Danny expected Steve to jump in the back of the truck and drag the man out kicking and screaming, but instead he looked at the medic with disgust in his eyes and said, "Where's your kit?"

Apparently, the other man was thrown by the change in conversational direction as well. "My what?"

"Your kit," McGarrett repeated slowly, acid dripping form every word. "Your kit with intubation tubes and that stuff. Where is it?"

The EMT grabbed a red bag that was lying on the floor next to him and threw it in Steve's direction. "There, go nuts."

"Are there masks in here?" Steve asked, bag in hand.

"No," and for a brief second, something almost along the lines of remorse flashed through the EMT's eyes. "I was planning on restocking my rig after I got back from this run, but obviously I never expected this when I got the call. The mask on my face is the last one I had, we had a big influenza scare at a high-risk center, and if I'm even going to try to adhere to protocol, I can't take it off and risk anyone else getting exposed."

"Wait, wait, wait," Danny started, fire to his partner's ice. "So you're going to be too chickenshit to go back in there, but are going to keep the only protection for yourself? I don't think so, hand the mask over." The EMT started to fight back, say something, but his words were lost when Steve just grabbed the bag and then slammed the doors closed in his face. The SEAL turned on his heel quickly and started making his way back towards the house without a word. "Uh, Steve? Do you have a plan here or are we just going to chuck some equipment at her and hope for the best?"

Steve didn't slow down as he answered, didn't even look in Danny's direction. "I was the unofficial medic for my SEAL team, Danny, so yes I have a plan."

"Setting aside for the moment this startling revelation about yourself for a moment, you are not thinking of going in that house without any protection for yourself. I know you're not, because that would be above idiotic, and even you aren't that stupid, Steven."

That finally stopped the taller man for a moment, as he finally stopped to look down at Danny. "What do you expect me to do? Watch her throat close up over a computer screen, knowing that I could do something to stop it? Firstly, we don't even know what we're dealing with here, and it might not even be contagious. Secondly, either way, someone has to go in there and help her and if that piece of shit medic isn't going to, then I am—I'm qualified, and I'm not going to ask anybody else to potentially risk their life instead."

Steve started to move away, but stopped at Danny's hand curling around his arm. "Are you even listening to yourself? We don't even know what we're dealing with here, Steven. You could go in that house and never come out of it alive! You can't expect me to be okay with that."

A sort of lopsided smile showed on McGarrett's face briefly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not expecting you to do anything other than let me go help this kid and deal with the consequences later."

It was only a moment of silence between them, but to Danny's racing heart and escalating emotions, it felt a lifetime longer. He couldn't let go of his partner's arm, couldn't willingly let him go into danger, especially one that couldn't be fought with the methods he was so used to. He couldn't just let his best friend sacrifice himself again, not after watching him do it year after year with nothing in return. He couldn't respect his partner's decision this time.

And then, the moment was over and Danny was sure that his eyes expressed everything he couldn't verbally, and he dropped his hand.

Almost immediately, Steve was off, jogging with the EMT's kit in his hand; running up the front steps of the house, past the objections of every officer he passed, and then he slipped into the house seamlessly, leaving like he had never been outside at all.

Danny wasted no time, rushing over to the computer feed that was still up, needing to be as close as he could to knowing what was going on. He arrived just in time to see that Maddie had passed out, McGarrett moving closer to feel for a pulse. After a moment of tense silence, the SEAL nodded, and then started to move the girl to the floor. "She's got a pulse but she's not breathing, so I'm going to intubate."

Danny wasn't the only one watching with wide eyes as Steve moved methodically, selecting a tube and a metal instrument from the bag, tilting the girl's head back on the floor and opening her mouth as he moved to kneel in front of her head. Watching as he carefully positioned the tool to pull her jaw and tongue down, watching as he apparently found what he was looking for and inserted the tube into the girl's throat, watching as he pulled out a blue bag and hooked it up to the tube, watching as he started squeezing the bag at a regular rate, watching as he lay his head down on her chest for a moment and listened for something only he could hear. Watching as he sat up, still squeezing the back, and spoke into the camera. "There's no stethoscope in here, but as far as I can tell, the tube is in the right spot and the breath sounds seem to be good. My guess is she'll wake up in not too long."

Danny nodded, knowing he was close enough to the camera for Steve to see him. "Okay, good," he replied, his voice a bit shaky. Then, summoning an authority he didn't feel at the moment, Danny spoke again more loudly. "We'll take care of everything out here." He directed his attention to the officers milling around him, wanting nothing more than for the audience to leave. "You three, go connect with Lieutenant Kelly and Officer Kalakaua: update them on everything here, and then start working with them to trace everywhere the Ambassador has been recently. We need to figure out exactly where she's been so that we can try to identify the disease, and they're going to need extra hands." He turned towards the other two that were standing around. "You two, go and find me that damn CDC officer, now. I don't care if you need to fly somewhere to pick her up yourselves; I want her here in the next half an hour, got it? And you two—I want you to go coordinate with Tripler so that they know what they've got coming, okay?"

Having assigned everyone in the immediate area something to do, Danny turned back to the digital version of his partner, who was still squeezing the air bag at even intervals. "So all these times that you've been injured and told me you were qualified to tell if you needed to go to the hospital or not, you weren't just trying to be a dick?"

Steve quietly laughed. "Well, I'm sure that being a dick was part of it at times, but it's just because you're so fun to rile up."

"Har har. Want to tell me how you ended up being able to intubate someone? Or is that classified too?"

"You're never going to let Strawberry Fields go, are you?" Steve responded with a small smile. He paused for a moment as if deciding something, and then finally spoke. "One of my first missions out with my SEAL team, we were taking heavy fire and the guy who was our medic ended up getting killed right in the middle of the firefight. Those of us who weren't that badly injured made it back to base, but a few guys died out there because no one else really knew what to do. When I started moving up the ranks, it was something that stayed with me, and I knew that if I was going to be in charge of a team someday, I wanted to be able to act as a backup if the same situation ever happened again. I knew that losing guys was going to be part of the job, but I never wanted to watch one of my men die knowing that there was something else I could have done to save him."

"So what did you do?"

"I started hanging around the medical tent, bugging the shit out of the guys there to teach me things. Whenever I had free time on base or in camps, I would stay and watch, and I tried to pick up what I could. Eventually, this one guy took pity on me and started training me in his off hours—took away what little sleep we could have gotten, but it was worth it. I wouldn't be able to perform any impromptu surgeries or anything, obviously, but in a pinch, I could do things like this. Intubate, I mean. I could throw in a few stitches if necessary, knew how to help with shock, dress a wound properly—things like that. Not too longer after this guy started teaching me, I was out on a mission with just a few other guys, and it was essential personnel only, so no army doctor coming with us. We'd made it in fine, but coming out was FUBAR, and one of my men needed help badly, but we were at least an hour away from any support, so I patched him up best I could. What I had learned saved his life." Steve shrugged, still squeezing the bag. "And even though it's been years, some things you don't forget."

Danny wasn't sure if Steve was referring to the mission, either or both of them, or the simple practice of inserting a tube into someone's throat, but he knew he was never going to get a specific answer about it. Not only because there was something in Steve's eyes begging Danny to let things lie, but also because Maddie started waking up. He watched on the screen as his partner spoke to the girl calmly, explaining everything, continuing to breathe for her through the whole process. He watched on the screen as they both settled in for the long haul, Steve speaking quietly to her to help keep her calm and grounded, Danny was sure.

It was the same thing that he had done for Steve so many times over the years, the quiet comfort, the simple way of letting the other person know that they weren't alone, no matter what. And watching his partner sit in that house, unprotected and exposed, with a disease that had already claimed one life, Danny wondered if he wasn't going to have to take up that quiet vigil once again.

It felt like days had passed since that morning, Danny reflected, as he stayed seated outside his partner's quarantine room, but in reality it had only been hours.

Not too long after Maddie had woken up, the representative from the CDC had finally arrived, establishing protocol and protections, some that Danny would have never thought necessary. But everyone jumped to do as she said, and in the end, Maddie, Steve, and the cowardly EMT had been securely transferred to Tripler Medical Center, Maddie's mother to a CDC-approved morgue. Maddie was in her own room, now on a ventilator to help her ailing lungs; Steve in a room next door, being poked like a pin cushion to get enough blood for all sorts of tests; the craven EMT next to that, a man who's name Danny neither knew, nor cared to find out.

The CDC representative had already informed Danny that until they knew exactly what they were dealing with, McGarrett and the others would be in isolation for at least two weeks, though that time table could be variable based off of symptoms or lack thereof. She had described the process so calmly, like this was an every day thing for her, but the idea of what could be incubating in his best friend's body right now was enough to made Danny's blood pressure spike.

As the Jersey detective had waited for everyone and everything to get settled, Chin and Kono had found that the Ambassador and her daughter had visited some vary uninhabited parts of a country in Central Africa on their way back to the United States; preliminary guesswork was that it was some variation of a monkey pox, but it would take days to verify anything.

Danny found himself vaguely comforted by the fact that it didn't appear to be a targeted attack of any kind, though he knew that either way, it wouldn't have changed the outcome. Maddie and her mom both still would have been sick, and Steve still would have rushed headfirst into danger without a backwards glance.

He found himself pulled out of his thoughts, though, by his partner's voice through the intercom. "Did you find out how long the incubation time was?"

Danny swung around so that he could see his best friend through the large window, his room nearly identical to the one that Joe White had been in years ago. "According to travel records, Maddie and her mom have been back in Hawaii for three days, and were probably exposed two days before that. So probably five or six days, but really, who knows?"

"Right."

And there, just for a second before McGarrett looked away, Danny could have sworn that he saw something flash through the SEAL's eyes that could almost be described as fear. But even as he saw it, Danny immediately told himself that he was wrong, that there was no way Steve was scared, that it wasn't a possibility since Steve was never scared when it came to his own health. But even as he rejected the notion, Danny's mouth opened almost of its own volition. "Are you afraid?"

Steve's eyes flashed up to meet Danny's quickly, surprise just barely evident in his expression. "Why would you ask that? I made my choice knowingly."

"It's one thing in the heat of the moment to choose to save a life, but when the consequences of that decision are unknown and on an unpredictable timeline? Anyone would be scared."

"I'm not scared," Steve protested, his voice crackling through the microphone.

"It's okay if you are," Danny responded, trying his best to sound understanding. "It's not a weakness to be scared."

At that, Steve immediately frowned. "This has nothing to do with weakness, Danny. I know that I made a choice that you wouldn't have, and I know that this isn't what you would have chosen for me to do, but I did what I did, and it's done now. I've dealt with deadly consequences before, and I'll deal with this now. There's no point in being scared, that's all. There's nothing that I can do to change this."

Danny sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, wishing so very hard that in moments like this, Steve and he could speak the same language. "I just meant that if you are scared, that's understandable because this is a scary thing. You like to have control. Even when you're facing down the barrel of a gun, I look at you and you're still in control because you know you have your training to fall back on to help you get out of the situation. Here," Danny gestured vaguely to the quarantine room Steve was stuck in, "here, there's nothing you can do, nothing to control. You just have to wait and hope your exposure wasn't too much."

"If you're trying to be comforting here, you're not."

"If you're not scared, why do you need comforting?"

This time, Steve didn't answer, spinning around to instead lay on his bed. After a few moments, his eyes closed, he said tiredly, "Why don't you go help Chin and Kono with the case? There's not going to be anything exciting happening here."

"There better not be," Danny muttered quietly, but acquiescing nonetheless by standing up to leave. He collected his things, but before exiting he turned around and placed his hand gently on the glass. "I'm scared, Steve, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I've already had to deal with almost losing you too many times in the course of our partnership. Too many. You're not so easily replaced, you know? You put me through this hell way too often, you hear me? The only reason I didn't want you going in that house is because I didn't want you ending up in here, or worse, me planning your funeral. So yeah, I'm scared of all of this. So please just don't do anything stupid and make me more scared while I'm gone."

Though the CDC wasn't sure of the exact strain, they were certain enough that the disease was a monkey pox to start dosing Maddie, Steve, the EMT, and anyone else that could have come into contact with Maddie and her mother with antivirals. There wasn't, Danny learned, an actual treatment specifically for monkey pox; instead, the doctors seemed to just treat with anything and everything that could be helpful, including the small pox vaccine. But they weren't sure if any of it would work for Maddie or Steve, and it felt like to Danny that the answer now was just to hope for the best.

Of course, by day five, Steve was antsy, bored, and anxious, though he wouldn't admit that outright. Danny had spent most of his time parked outside Steve's door, Chin and Kono being ordered on a forced vacation by Steve ("I don't need everyone sitting and looking at me through the glass like I'm a fucking zoo animal"), trying to talk with him, keep him updated, but there was a tenseness around the quarantined man that never truly went away.

It was now late afternoon on day six, and Steve was pacing back in forth in his quarantine room, rubbing the back of his neck. "How's Maddie?"

"Same as before," Danny replied, his eyes tracking his best friend's movement. "The rash has spread, but the doctors say she's holding her own. They think once they get the dose of antivirals right, she'll turn the corner."

Steve nodded, and then stopped pacing to lean against his bed, eyes closed. "That's good."

"Yeah," Danny replied, his mind already moving off of Maddie and onto his partner. "Are you okay?" Steve nodded, but without opening his eyes or really focusing on Danny. Immediately, Danny's worry spiked. "Steve, what's wrong?"

Whether it was Danny's tone or the use of the SEAL's name, Danny didn't know, but Steve finally opened his eyes and looked at Danny. "Nothing, just a headache."

"How long?"

"How long what, Danny?"

"How long have you had a headache?"

"I don't know, since last night. Why?"

Danny could feel the rush of anxiety making his body jittery already. "Headaches can be an early symptom."

"A headache can also be a symptom of being cooped up in the same room for a week with no fresh air or exercise. I got headaches all the time when I was in prison."

Danny's mind immediately flashed back to that time all those years ago, Steve stressed and dressed in orange, talking through a glass partition and telephones. The memory left him feeling unsettled, and he was sure that those days had been on Steve's mind as well recently, judging by his comment. But still… "Are you overly tired? Achy anywhere? Are you running a fever?"

"Of course I'm tired, Danny." But even as he said it, Steve's voice had a trace of uncertainty in it. "I'm sure it's just this place."

Danny nodded, but his heart wasn't in it. "I'm going to go find a nurse just in case, alright? Just don't do anything while I'm gone."

"Like what? Die?"

He'd said it in jest, but just the idea made Danny's heart clench. "Yeah, like that, dumbass."

When Danny finally came back with a nurse, and a doctor, and the proper protocols were taken to insure quarantine was maintained, Danny couldn't help but take up the mantle of pacing, doing so in front of Steve's window. When the doctor finally exited the room, Danny all but pounced on him. "How is he?"

The doctor sighed, rubbing his chin tiredly as he watched McGarrett through the window. "He's achy and he's got a low fever. It could be simply something he's picked up, a reaction to all the meds we're giving him, or he could be infected. At this point, we just don't know for sure."

"And when will we know? When he's covered in a rash and can't breathe?" Danny knew he was being rude, but at the moment, he just didn't care.

"Unfortunately, Detective Williams, even if it is the case that Commander McGarrett is infected, there isn't much we can do other than treat the symptoms as they arise. We already have him on strong antivirals, and that's really all we can do. There's no specific vaccine or antidote or treatment for this, and we don't know if everyone's symptoms will be the same. At this point, we simply have to hope for the best."

"Hope for the best, right," Danny muttered, barely noticing as the doctor made some notations in Steve's chart and then left. After a moment, he went right up and stood next to the speaker, his downturned head resting against the glass. "Please just have a cold or something, Steve."

Danny didn't know where his partner was in the hospital room, but wherever he was, his voice sounded far away. "That'd be nice."

"You don't think you have a cold, do you?"

"I'd like to say that I wasn't in there long enough to be exposed, that I couldn't have picked something up from a couple of hours, but I don't know. It is what it is, I guess."

Finally, at that, Danny looked up, his gaze finding McGarrett's quickly. "You're so quick to take on this weight because you think that you're carrying it by yourself, but you're not. I may not be in a hospital bed with you, but I'm in it just the same. If something happens to you, I'm not just going to be okay—you know that, right? So can we please just jack down this que sera, sera bullshit?"

Steve's expression, normally so controlled and calm, loosened for a moment exposing the weariness and fear that he had denied earlier. "I know, Danny, okay? I just… I don't know. You were right, okay? I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified that I spent half my life doing shit for the Navy that you'd probably never believe, running headfirst into battle, thinking I knew how I was going to die, only to be faced with this. This unknown, untreatable thing in my blood that I have no control over. I can't fight this, not like I can a known enemy, someone with a gun. The threats all my life have been external and now my own body is probably going to kill me and if I think about that too much, I'm going to go crazy. So yes, I know that I'm not in this alone, and I'm more sorry that you can ever know for dragging you into all my life and death drama all the time, but I just have to try to calmly accept it or I'm not going to be able to accept it at all."

They were both silent for a moment, and then Danny nodded. "I get it, I do, okay? And I'm sorry for pushing you, I'm just…" He trailed off, knowing that a simple 'thank you' wouldn't even begin to cover the depth of his emotions of having Steve share. "You're my family. I really need you to be okay."

For a while, it seemed like maybe the universe had listened to Danny, that they had turned a corner when Steve had finally opened up, had been honest with himself and with Danny about what he was feeling. The fever seemed to go down, nothing worse seemed to be coming, and the two of them existed in that bubble, separated at all times by the physical wall between them, even if Steve's had come down. It enforced a difference, but for once, even despite that, Danny felt like they were on the same page.

And then, suddenly they weren't. Suddenly, Steve wasn't breathing. Suddenly, doctors and nurses were going into the room where Danny couldn't. Suddenly, Steve was sedated and hooked up to a ventilator. Suddenly, Danny's world shifted.

"You said to watch out for fevers and headaches, not him turning blue, " Danny said to the doctor as soon as he came out Steve's isolation unit. "Nobody said anything about him fucking not breathing."

The doctor clearly read Danny's anger as what it really was: gut-wrenching, all-consuming worry. "We knew that this virus could have an affect on the pulmonary system, as with young Ms. Maddie, though obviously the Commander's response was more drawn out—it could be a mutation of this specific strain of the virus, or it could be something to do with Commander McGarrett's personal biology. I know that that's not a comforting answer, but it is my inclination to believe that it's the former, seeing as Ms. Maddie had similar—though not as extreme—respiratory issues. And as you know, she's been steadily improving in her condition. My sincerest hope is that with the proper medication and with ventilation to take the stress off of the Commander's lungs, he should make a full recovery in time."

"I feel like there's a but in there, Doc."

"Unfortunately there is. While it is my sincerest hope that meds and rest is all it takes, we just don't know. Since we don't know that much about this specific virus, and the CDC testing has so far not revealed more details, I cannot say for certainty that that will be the case. Obviously, it is typical that being a healthy adult in good physical condition usually helps fight off such diseases, although we have seen exceptions to this, such as with the Spanish Flu of 1918. At this point, only time will tell."

Danny didn't even know how to respond to that, couldn't even begin to vocalize what he was feeling, so he simply stayed silent for a moment and willed himself to ignore the tears of frustration in his eyes. Finally, after feeling like he had wrestled himself into some sort of semblance of control, he spoke quietly. "Can I at least go in and sit with him? He does better when he's not alone." He could do this, he thought, if they could just be in the same space.

But the doctor just shook his head. "I'm sorry, Detective Williams, but the quarantine is still in effect. Unless the CDC says otherwise, he has to stay in isolation for the whole two weeks."

"But he wouldn't be leaving isolation! And you guys go in all the time."

"Quarantine rules being what they are, I can't allow you in."

Danny's voice came out a broken whisper, but he couldn't even be bothered to be embarrassed. "Please. It's—he'll do better if I'm there. Even if he's sedated, he still fights better, and I need him fighting with everything he has."

But the doctor just shook his head. "I'm sorry, truly. But I can't break protocol, especially not with a disease this serious or potentially contagious. I'm sure you can understand."

Danny nodded, not able to argue with the doctor, not when he'd been trying to argue for a similar policy in regards to Maddie back at the crime scene all those days ago. But he wanted to. He wanted to argue, to scream, to break all the rules because it wasn't right. When his partner's life was hanging in the balance, it wasn't right that he couldn't be where Steve needed him.

It had become a ritual of sorts between them. Steve ended up in the hospital way more than he should, way more than Danny could comfortably count, and while his trips didn't always involve rounds of unconsciousness, they did more than Danny could comfortably count. And once their partnership had progressed past the point of being simple work friends, every time Steve was sedated in a hospital bed, Danny was there, holding his hand. In a moment of emotional transparency that Danny was sure was brought on by copious amounts of pain meds, Steve had confessed that sometimes he felt like the feeling of Danny's hand in his was the only thing grounding him, the only thing keeping him from giving up and giving into the darkness. And selfishly, it helped Danny too, letting him have a physical reminder that that day hadn't been the day he'd lost his partner for good.

And now…now Danny was stuck outside, locked out, blocked from helping the man who helped him at every turn. He could neither reassure nor be reassured, and he sat on the other side of that quarantine room, more scared than ever.

Finally, with one day to go under quarantine, the doctors were able to extubate Steve, once they had found the right way to do it while keeping the SEAL calm enough. And it broke Danny's heart, because Steve's first mumbled word was "Danno", and for once he couldn't be next to his partner to help ease the transition into waking, because all he could do was try to reassure Steve through the speaker that he was there, that everything was okay.

But Danny knew it wasn't enough, knew when Steve—still not quite awake, not quite himself—looked confusedly around the empty room before he fell back asleep with a frown on his face.

So Danny pounced on the doctor the next time he saw the other man after they had removed the intubation tube. "Have you had any update from the CDC?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I spoke to someone this morning, and they've confirmed that Commander McGarrett would have stopped being contagious most likely a week after initial symptoms, meaning—"

"Meaning I could have been in there two days ago," Danny cut in, having to force his frustration down. "Does that mean you'll be moving him to a regular room? And I can go in?"

"I'm afraid not until tomorrow. The CDC is remaining adamant that the Commander finish out the 14-day quarantine just in case. Tomorrow morning, after we've followed all the procedures, we'll go ahead and move him. But with the amount of sedatives in his system still, his periods of wakefulness will be brief. Even if he weren't under quarantine, I doubt he'd even know that you were there."

"But I know," Danny replied, his voice tight. He didn't—couldn't—say anymore, so he just turned and walked back to the seat that he had grown so familiar with lately, and tried to make himself more comfortable.

Danny squeezed Steve's hand, relishing the fact that he had the opportunity to do so. It felt good to hold his brother's hand, comfort himself that Steve was going to walk away from this one without any new scars or too painful of memories.

The morning had seemed to stretch into the afternoon, waiting for Steve to finally be released from his isolation and moved into a room that Danny could actually come into. The doctor had been right-Steve had't seemed to wake up too much throughout the night or into the next morning, which both helped and hurt. As much as Danny was grateful Steve was still out enough to not miss Danny's presence, he also wanted Steve to be awake and alert, present and healed. But finally, Steve had been cleared by all involved, and had been moved into a bright run with a view of the ocean.

Danny was absentmindedly trying to keep tally of the pertinent details of his life right now (number of days in the hospital: 15; location of Grace and Charlie: out of town visiting Rachel's parents; location of the cousins: on the Big Island for a family event as ordered), when all of a sudden he felt a returning pressure on his hand.

Danny looked down to see his partner awake, seemingly more conscious and coherent than he had been the last few times he had come close to wakefulness. "Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. How're you feeling?"

"Mmm, dry," Steve rasped out, rubbing his hand along his throat.

"That would be," Danny replied, already up and moving to get some ice chips that the nurses had been leaving for moments such as these, "you had a tube in your throat for a couple of days and were on 100% oxygen. They both tend to have a de-humidifying effect."

Steve nodded, eyes traveling around the room as he accepted the ice from Danny. "I take it they deemed me safe to be in public?" Then, almost immediately, another question tumbled off of Steve's tongue, this one with much more urgency. "How's Maddie? Is she okay? And the medic?"

Danny nodded. "She's fine, Steven, calm down. Your heroics were indeed worth it, as Maddie walked out of quarantine yesterday completely of her own power, fully healed, with her aunt. She's going to hopefully live a long and healthy life, thanks to you. And yes, the jerk who wouldn't help was totally healthy-he never even got sick."

Steve nodded, calm instantly returning to his face. "That's good," he murmured, completely ignoring the praise. He was silent for a moment, and then added, almost shyly, "Thanks for coming back, Danny. It's nice to have you here."

Instantly, Danny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Back? What do you mean? I've been here the whole time."

Steve swept quickly between Aneurysm Face and just plain confusion. "I woke up and you weren't there, the first time." There was a beat, as Danny tried to figure out what to say and Steve didn't say anything, and then the latter suddenly breathed out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "I was wondering where'd you gone the whole time, and I'm now realizing that I was probably still under quarantine when that happened, wasn't I?"

Danny nodded, trying not the let the instant guilt that he had felt at Steve's statement show on his face. He hated that Steve had even remembered that he wasn't there, had noticed enough to even comment on it now. It killed him that his partner had ever thought that he'd been alone through any of this, that Danny would have left. So, coughing a little to cover the lump in his throat, Danny tried to push those feelings aside so as to not burden Steve with anything else. "Yeah, they wouldn't let me in at all, and believe me I tried."

"That makes a lot more sense," Steve replied, then with another embarrassed shake of the head, he added quickly, "Not that you had to have been there, of course."

"Where else would I have been?" Danny asked, guilt slipping aside to make room for genuine bewilderment.

"I'm just saying, you didn't have to stay. But that being said, I've definitely gotten used to not waking up in one of these rooms by myself anymore. Having family is nice."

Danny sat on the edge of Steve's hospital bed and laid a hand on his leg. "You're in the hospital, I'm here too, and vice versa. It's just how we are." He squeezed lightly, and then let his tone turn teasing. "Which, let me tell you, I could really use to cut back on the number of days we spend here. And since I'm the one that is usually smart enough to avoid on the job injuries, it's usually your fault we're here, so cut it out, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve murmured sarcastically, with a dismissive wave of the hand. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." His tone was light, but his eyes were serious as he looked at Danny, and it was clear he meant what he was saying.

Danny was almost flippant back, but then held back at the last moment. "What's there to make up for, huh? I may bitch about it, but I knew what I was signing on for all those years ago. This is what family does—what brothers do."

They were both silent for a second, Steve composing himself and Danny pretending not to see the emotion on his partner's face. Finally, Danny spoke again; this time is tone the slightest bit snarky. "So I know I call you Super SEAL, but seriously, secret medical training? Any other secret skills I should know about?"

Steve grinned, a truly bright smile that Danny felt like were all too rare, one that banished the paleness of being hospitalized from his face. "Bet you thought after all this time that I couldn't surprise you still, didn't you?"

"Steven, I'd tell you all the ways you in your Neanderthal glory surprise me, but I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings."

"Careful, another one of my secret skills is mind reading, so I already know you were about to be a dick."

"You're hilarious."

"Another one of my secret skills."

And there we have it! Sometimes, I feel bad because I tend to use Chin and Kono's characters as more filler and really love the stories with just the two boys together, but oh well! ;) Steve and Danny just make for great stories.

Speaking of which, the next one should be up faster! Family obligations caught up to me the last few weeks, but I should have a clearer schedule to get the next one out soon!

All reviews are greatly appreciated and go to a good home.

Charlotte