I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: any and all medical acumen is lovingly coached in by the brilliant KomodoQueen. Thank you! :-)

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O

He licked his lips because they were chapped; overly dry. His entire mouth was dry actually and Danny grimaced in distaste when he found the woeful lack of moisture. There was a movement next to him and a soft rustling sound as someone walked closer. However, Danny opened his eyes only when he felt the gentle hand which had been placed on his forehead, confused to find Steve staring back down at him.

He didn't quite remember more than a fuzzy image of a nurse and overhead lights from his earlier waking in recovery. But waking a second time to a seriously concerned best friend was confusing.

"You know, Danno," Steve whispered right away. "They say that any landing you walk away from is a good landing. But what you did ... how you did it... and not to mention ... why. I don't know if I should punch the shit out of you right now or kiss you."

Completely confused, Danny didn't even know what to say to the short recitation. In fact, he didn't even know where he was since this room wasn't the one he'd remembered last being in.

"H'ppend?" He slurred sloppily. He was surprised that he could barely speak, so parched that he could only willingly open his mouth for the small ice chip which Steve offered him on a plastic spoon.

"What happened?" Steve scoffed quietly. "You! You, my friend, happened! While you saw fit to scare me half to death with what Doctor Benning says is officially called a sub-capsular haematoma ... they had to operate again, buddy."

Steve stopped talking to wait as his partner mentally caught up, his eyes struggling to focus on his face. He smiled when Danny frowned, a slow turn of his head a message that he totally disbelieved the statement.

"Yeah, you did and you're going to be fine," Steve gently insisted. "But Danno ... I read the accident reports and what you did ... how you pulled it off ... it's a damned miracle, Danno. Then ... what you did afterwards ... volunteering for surgery? Just, what the hell were you thinking?"

"Ac'dent?" Danny murmured, brow crinkling more, as his confusion only grew in spades. He had no idea what his partner was going on about and yet, could scarcely find the wherewithal to get his mouth to cooperate. It was difficult while lying on his back, but Danny tried to look around the room. His view was too limited though and he remained as in the dark as he was before, helplessly looking to Steve to fill in the gaps and to better explain what had happened.

"Where m'I?" He asked, fighting his eyes as a slurry of medication kept his pain at bay, and yet also strove to pull him back under to sleep.

Steve snorted out a soft laugh, his thumb idly roving circles on his friend's cool forehead as he watched the glassy blue eyes close. It was much too soon to talk about anything. Danny'd been through a lot and Benning wanted him calm and pain free. With her kindly regimen, Danny could barely focus and certainly didn't quite understand all Steve was trying to say.

"What were you thinking?" Steve whispered again. While his tone might have been gentle, quiet even, his own face was heavily creased with stress. He'd explain more about the emergency surgery later. If anything, Steve was still trying to get his own head around it. It seemed as if there was an ever-growing pile of things to cope with and Steve had reached maximum overload.

Not only unable to truly grasp what had just happened to Danny, he also couldn't get his head around what had happened to him - then, what Danny had done - for him. Steve stood there quietly as his friend began to doze again.

He'd learned more from the female doctor just as Danny had been getting settled in recovery. Danny's spleen had actually ruptured just as they were cutting him open. Benning had explained everything to them now - how the slow bleed had happened and why it had been missed; then likely had time to grow. And that explanation, plus finally having read through each and every accident report, highlighted by dramatic pictures, Steve had more than cobbled together an accurate version of the story.

The trauma Danny had incurred in the plane crash had not only fractured his ribs, it had been enough to create a slow bleed which no one had noticed because, at the time, it had simply been far too small. In fact, the liver bisection had actually slowed the onset of any symptoms because the blood and fluids he'd received during the donor surgery had bolstered his blood loss and the pain-killers had masked his discomfort. Chin had caught most of Doctor Benning's hurried explanation while Danny was still in surgery, but the female physician hadn't the time to fully explain it all until well afterwards.

The exhaustion had been a clue though. The general malaise, Danny's complaints of nausea, and then the pain he'd likely down-played or blown off as part and parcel of the crash - and Steve just knew that Danny had done that. He heaved in a shuddering breath of air as he simply watched Danny breathe. He'd done the same thing, hadn't he? He'd chided Danny and teased him about being lazy. Negative. Cantankerous.

But all of those things - each one - were symptoms of the bleed worsening and the haemotoma, growing. It was a mistake. But then again, they'd all made mistakes. During Doctor Benning's discussion with him, Steve belatedly realized that he'd missed all the clues. Clues which he'd merely kidded his partner over, blaming Danny's refusal to walk with him twice that very same day in the hospital's corridor as temper. Prior to that happening though, the first hint of trouble had reared its head more than a day earlier. And if Steve chose to drive himself even crazier with guilt, he'd realized that Danny's much abbreviated attempts at exercise and constant chill had been the predecessors to it all. Coupled then with his lack of appetite, which the nurses had duly noted as a budding problem, Danny had been in a down-swing for at least forty-eight hours ... if not longer.

"Go back to sleep," Steve urged Danny quietly when he struggled to reopen his eyes, his confusion still apparent. "Everything's okay, Danno. We're still at Tripler and ... and, you're going to be fine."

"Steve? But ...," Danny tried and was hushed for his efforts. Steve shushed him repeatedly as he tried to ask more questions. Stubborn to a fault even when his body merely craved rest and finally declaring his battle lost, Danny did eventually cave in to its demands. After a long moment, Steve awkwardly stood by Danny's bedside in the intensive care unit, relieved that Danny had seen fit to wake while he was still there. It was Benning who'd granted the permission for him to have the short visit, her words of advice included fair warning that Danny might be too weak to rouse after the touchy emergency operation. She wanted her patient to rest and sleep; to avoid as much as stress as possible as he healed and Steve couldn't agree more.

Steve eased himself back down into the wheelchair, wincing as his own incision pulled tight. He silently lambasted himself for the barest bit of self-indulgence. He didn't deserve a thing because he was a direct beneficiary of his partner's self sacrificing ways. He'd seen with his own two eyes, the previously hidden extent of colorful bruises and abrasions that mottled Danny's skin underneath the plain hospital gown. He'd witnessed the fall-out in their own hospital room and heard the terrifying shout of pain as their doctor sought to help Danny; his partner twisting on the bed in agony.

In typical fashion, Danny's stubborn character shone through at the end of the day though and he'd no idea what he'd really succeeded in doing. If anything, it pained Steve when he learned that no one seemed to. Not a single person inside or outside of his team had honestly given this man his true praises. And by God, Danny deserved all of their respect. It didn't feel as if he'd had any.

These last few days in the hospital hadn't been the time nor the place for jokes. At least not yet; while certainly meant to lighten a dark mood or even relieve fears, all of that had been much too soon. Especially by himself when Danny had merely been looking to reassure himself after a terrible fright and then had sought the simplest of acknowledgements. But everything was still fresh for Steve, too. Their differences shone through with coping mechanisms which conflicted to an alarming point.

"I'd do it for you," Steve said, suddenly more saddened than he'd ever felt before. "I would and I know that you know that, too. Just like I didn't mean it about Charlie ... and you. That beautiful kid loves you, Danno ... and ... I'm sorry."

He looked down at his hands which were clasped limply in his lap while mulling over that same earlier conversation. Danny had wounded his pride with particular words and he'd come back just as harshly using Charlie as his sword.

Had they truly been kidding with each other or was there more to what had happened? No, there wasn't more ... there'd been temper and bad timing. Surely, neither of them had meant their words.

"And me ... I sure as hell didn't mean that about me, either." Steve whispered so very softly. "Dammit it, Danny. I could never hate you ... never." It needed saying and he knew he'd say it again later, because now it didn't count with his partner dead to the world whilst in an intensive care unit.

Looking up slowly, Steve unclasped his hands to place them on either wheel of the wheelchair. He edged forward a few inches so that the could look directly into Danny's far too pale face. His eyes were peacefully closed though, and each breath calm and steady.

"You know ...," he whispered hoarsely and in all honesty, his voice falling to barely audible. "You took too many stupid, stupid risks ... but I sure as hell love you, partner"

He made a nonsensical noise under his breath then. Self-conscious. Just about embarrassed, he rolled the chair backwards towards the door and then stopped again. He wasn't supposed to stay long and yet, he couldn't bring himself to leave Danny's side. And surely sitting there so very still amongst the quiet of the night-time staff, he wouldn't be bothering a soul. So Steve leaned back and stared down at the floor while loosely folding his hands together once more. Steve was deep in thought and his eyes were closed when Danny's lips tilted upwards ever so slightly before relaxing in a true sleep.

A moment later, Steve fidgeted and glanced up for a second, still worried. Still on edge. One would do anything for the other and Danny had handily proven that; but his words had wounded Steve at the time and he'd come back hard. He felt bad; guilty, even. Sitting there in the near stillness of the ICU, hands in his lap, Steve knew that he hadn't been thinking clearly and certainly hadn't meant to sound so ... damned insensitive.

He wondered if Danny really believed him though - believed in him?

"Ingrate." Steve remembered the word quite clearly. Now, he heard it in an entirely different way. And the privacy curtain which Danny'd so roughly closed in his face? That not only said no, it damned well shouted it.

~ to be continued ~