I've made Steve and Danny clones for you all as a thankyou for being so amazing. They'll be waiting under your christmas trees come the 25th.

You guys rock! Seriously! You rock in every kind of way!

I have to thank a friend of mine for the idea given to Danny in this chapter. Its hilarious watching her use this technique...you'll see what i mean!

His father stood before him. His eyes open and his arms wide. Beckoning for his son to run to him. Steve moved, he ran, he pulled himself as far forward as he could. No matter the ground covered, his father stayed the same distance away. Slowly he began to sink, as bruises began to appear across his face, blood trailing down from a wound unseen in the side of his hair. The blood collecting on his shoulder, grouping together to make the final push. Spilling over, home free and un-tethered from the body that held it prisoner. His father beckoned him forward and once again Steve tried to run, his legs pumping, his heart pounding. He ran miles closer yet still couldn't reach his father. The blood now pooled around his waist, his body below invisible within the quick sand that slowly engulfed him. Steve cried aloud. Called and begged but still his father continued to sink. The blood had stopped flowing, his skin ashen, eyes no longer dancing with the wonder of life. The arms that had once held him tight, fell beneath the view of the sand. His head lolled to the side, mouth open, tongue lax. Steve cried again. Ran forward, this time making progress toward the disappearing man. He leapt, arms outstretched just as the sand swallowed his fathers body. The ground stilled. Too late. Always too late. The dream ended the same each night. He was alone. Once again he was alone.

"No!" He cried beneath the weight of the oxygen mask.

"Shhhh, its ok, Steve."

He knew that voice, knew it well. It's tone comforting, the hand resting on his forehead reinforcing the promise of the voice.

"You're ok, shhhh, everything's ok."

Danny. If Danny said it was ok then he had nothing to worry about. As he felt fingers moving in soothing circles on his arm, the other hand continued resting against his forehead, he felt his body relax. The agony of the dream melting into the background as Danny continued his calming ministrations.

"It's ok, you can sleep now. It's all ok."

Ok Partner, if you say so. Steve released a gentle sigh as he slipped back toward the sea of sleep. Danny kept up his calming motions, far after he was certain his friend was deeply asleep.

Danny rested his hand on the top of Steve's head. The Lt Commander's restlessness had been what had woken him from an exhausted sleep. His head, rolling from one side to the other, his face caught in expressions of anguish and pain. He kept mumbling and begging. Kept apologising and chanting the words no and I'm sorry over and over. Danny had the feeling that this dream haunted his partner nightly. He sat beside the sleeping man, lulled by the steady breathing and rise and fall of Steve's chest. He jumped slightly as Nurse Acosta woke him as he drifted toward slumber. She gently coaxed him back into the bed next to Steve's. Within minutes he was asleep.

As night fell away to day the two men slept on. The comings and goings of the nurses doing little to disturb them. Even Nurse Acosta changing Steve's oxygen mask for a nasal cannula had failed to wake either man. Hours later, Danny awoke slowly. At first he was aware of a slither of daylight across his face, warming his skin to the new day. He became aware of soft sheets, tucked carefully around him, noises in the distance of people talking . Hustle and bustle of the early afternoon shift.

He relaxed into the bed further, no need to rush awake, they were safe now. As he shifted slightly into a more comfortable position he became painfully aware of his body's protests to the adventures of the previous day. His leg muscles ached, his arm throbbed and thanks to the bright blue cast, itched like nothing he'd ever known. As his body began to stride toward being fully awake, he had to give up the fight and open his eyes. He blinked around wearily, finally laying eyes on his still sleeping companion.

At least one of them was managing to lie in.

Danny checked the side cabinet and located his watch. 12.52pm. Why the hell was he awake this early? Considering he didn't finally get to sleep until well after 3am, this early hour seemed really unfair. He tentatively stretched, testing his body's limits. Ok , so he ached all over. Good to know. He closed his eyes again, willing his aching body to fall back into a painless sleep. Small sounds crept into his mind, footsteps of nurses coming in for their shifts. Muffled voices as gossip was shared, but beneath it all there was another sound. Danny's eyes opened with a start.

"Steve?"

He pulled himself sitting and untangled his legs from the sheets. The cold of the floor shocked his bare feet as he walked the few steps across to the bed beside him.

"Steve?" He called again.

He pushed down the feelings of guilt as he gently rubbed his partner's shoulder in an attempt to wake him. The Lt Commander had had even less sleep than Danny, after he'd woken from the sedatives used to keep him out during the operation, the nurses had insisted on waking him every few hours to check his responses and breathing.

Steve turned his head away from Danny. His lips still moving, his voice still painfully clear. "Dad. I'm Sorry. I'm so sorry, Dad." Like a broken hearted mantra caught in a never ending loop, Steve repeated the words.

Danny shook him gently, calling his name and hoping his friend would wake. Steve was too caught in the nightmare of memories to hear the plea. Danny gripped his shoulders, leant over him and barked an order.

"MCGARRETT!."

Steve awoke with a start, unshed tears swimming in his eyes as he looked around in confusion. Danny held firm, waiting for his partner's eyes to find him, he smiled as deep blue's focused and recognition surfaced.

"Hey, you with me?"

"Danno?" Steve's voice broke. He swallowed, still caught up in the nightmare replaying itself over and over in his head. He closed his eyes, willing the onslaught to stop. His body was still too tired, too hurt and the pain still too close for the memories to melt away before the tears fell. He felt hands moving from his shoulders, one rested against his arm, the other on his head. Just as before, offering comfort and safety.

"I'm here partner, you're ok. It was just a dream." Probably the same one as before Danny silently added.

"Wasn't a dream, it was real. He died and it was all my fault." Steve couldn't stop the words as they fell from his lips. The tears fell silently as he squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to move his head away from Danny.

The Detective was at a loss as to what to do, his thumb ran small circles on Steve's arm as he struggled for the words that would take away all the pain and guilt and make everything all right. Just as he struggled when the time came to explain to his daughter why Daddy couldn't live with her anymore, he stared into space, looking for inspiration that seemed to always elude him.

"Steve, it wasn't your fault. It was Victor Hesse's fault. He's the one that caused this. Not you. It's gonna be alright, man."

Steve turned his head to look at his partner, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with pain.

"I miss him." He whispered.

"I know."

Danny kept contact with Steve as the former SEAL lost his battle against the pain meds and exhaustion. He won't even remember this, thought Danny as he sighed in frustration at the helplessness he felt at that moment. He knew Steve had buried his pain, knew he hid behind the cool exterior. But to see the emotions laid bare was almost too much for Danny. Part of him wished for Super Hero Steve to always remain in control, while the other side of him wished for his friend to confide in him and allow him to help carry the burdens that weighed him down. He wasn't so sure he wanted to see that kind of pain in his friend's eye's ever again. For all their differences the two had become close. Not only brothers in arms but outsiders struggling with the effort of fitting in.

Danny sat beside the Lt Commander and watched the rise and fall of his chest. He noted the paleness of his skin, the hidden bandages around his thigh and along his right side hiding the broken ribs. The tube that kept fluid out of his chest cavity, allowing the punctured lung to be re-inflated and valuable air back into his body. The bruises, too numerous to count. The concussion, the only part visible below his hairline held together with stitches surrounded by vicious bruising. The physical pain no where near in severity to the emotional caused by a whole different set of events. He replayed in his mind the admission's he'd heard. Replayed the pain and tears. There was nothing he could do to force the man to open up and admit those feelings while sober and not high as a kite on pain meds and struggling with exhaustion. But there were small things he could do. Signs he could look out for when perhaps just his company over a few beers would help. He would be at his friend's side when they finally found Hesse's body or if Hesse ever reappeared (although Danny's logical mind doubted it the rest of him feared they'd not seen the last of the murderer) he would be the one, along with Steve, to take him down.

He was so caught up in thought he didn't notice as the day nurse entered the room, followed closely by Doctor Yablonksi.

"Detective?" The Doctor brought Danny back to the current moment.

"Hey, Doc. Don't you ever go home?"

The tall Doctor smiled as he approached the two injured men. "Home? Now i know that word. Don't tell me, I'll remember."

Danny laughed despite the lingering emotions. The levity helping to centre him.

"So," Continued the Doctor, "How you doing?"

"Me? I'm fine Doc, nicely rested and ready to scratch the hell out of my arm."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Those casts are a nightmare for the itching. Nurse Turner here though has a remedy."

Danny became aware of the nurse and blushed as he realised he'd ignored her completely. She was petite and curvy , her blonde hair cut into a short style that fell across her face on one side.

"I have one hell of a remedy" She said as she produced the longest looking syringe he'd ever seen. "Don't put anything in it, and no there's no needle. Just slide it down the side of the cast and depress the plunger."

Danny did as she asked and almost cried in relief as the plunger pushed air through, relieving the almost obsessional need he had to scratch.

"Oh my god!"

"It's good isn't it? It doesn't last for too long but is a lot better than attacking your arm with a wire coat hanger!"

"I think I love you." Said Danny as he depressed the plunger again on the other side of the cast.

Doctor Yablonksi laughed at the two as he pulled the sheet off of the sleeping leader of Five-0. He gently pried the bandage from the skin and checked the incision site and the chest tube. Danny paled as he got his first good look at the damage along Steve's right side.

"Jesus."

"Yeah, that crash did quite a number on him. He's doing well though." The Doctor placed his stethoscope around Steve's chest, the sleeping man completely unaware of the attention. "We're going to take him for another chest X-ray, providing all's good, we'll remove the chest tube and bring him right back here."

Danny nodded, his eye's still fixed on the bruising and damage along Steve's ribs. How the hell had he managed to walk so far like that? Danny had a feeling that he could know the Lt Commander a hundred years, and still he'd be doing things to amaze, and annoy, him.

He watched as his friend was wheeled out of the room, still sleeping soundly, still completely unaware of the attention.

I'd like to tease you and say thats it...but you guys know there's more on the way