Danny kicked the gun away from Joey's quivering body. He was met with wild eyes. Desperate eyes. The crowd of onlookers had formed a circle, leaving the two men in an imperfect sort of limbo. And everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

"Had to see for myself. Had to make sure." Joey gasped, shivering. Blood oozing from the hole in his chest. He wheezed and sputtered. "Always finish the job."

Danny loomed over him, smiling. "You failed."

"What? No. I killed him." Joey reached for Danny, snagging his pant leg with a blood slick hand. "The poison. Jimmy."

"Steve's alive."

"No, can't be. He has to be dead. I killed him." Now Joey was trying to get up off the floor, but he kept slipping. "I set everything up so perfectly. The game was going so well."

Danny moved back a few feet, knowing Joey wasn't going anywhere. There was just too much blood. "I'm afraid you bet on the wrong guys."

All balls and bravado, he stood there glaring at Joey Franklin. If he tried anything, he'd kick his ass, shot or not. There was no way he was losing this fight.

Yet it was mostly an act. Danny was growing weaker, and he still didn't quite trust the moment. No matter how much of the crimson stuff pooled underneath the bastard. A small part of him really expected the sociopath lying there bleeding out in front of him to jump up and tackle him again.

Because this bizarre episode had been all about twists and turns. Anything to keep them on edge. And Danny knew they were lucky. So lucky. All of this had been about vengeance and chance. He and Steve had no way of even playing the game. They were the game.

And they'd come so very close to losing everything.

But there was one prize. Macabre as it was.

He could stand there and watch Joey die. And Danny would do it with a crystal clear conscience.

Then, the hospital staff and HPD officers rushed forward, startling him. He stumbled, almost losing his balance. Commands were given and Danny was pushed out of the way. He watched as a valiant effort was made to save Joey, following along as they moved to a triage room.

Danny knew Joey Franklin was dead even before the paddles were charged for the third time. He stood back against the wall, content but so full of nothing at the same time. The smile faded from his face. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Relief was what he felt now. A force so powerful that he'd sunk to the floor before he realized what he was doing, medical supplies crashing down with him. A concerned nurse grabbed his hand. "Sir, are you alright? Detective Williams? Can you hear me?"

And now he was a patient. Again. He felt many arms lift him. Words were said, his pulse checked. A sharp prick and Danny was out of it completely.

Finally able to rest.

/././

Danny opened his eyes slowly. The room was bright and his head hurt. He panicked for a second until a soft hand squeezed his. "Danny, it's okay."

He recognized that voice. "Kono?"

"Hey brah. Welcome back." She pushed a small cup with a straw in front of his face.

He took a sip of cool liquid. "Steve?"

"He's okay, Danny. You're just across the hall." She stroked his arm and smiled. "Go back to sleep. Everything is fine."

"Good." Danny drifted away again. He was so tired, and still in a lot of pain. And the bed was soft; he felt safe. A welcome change from the madness of the last week. Maybe he would sleep that long. Knowing Steve was okay was itself the best sedative.

The next time he opened his eyes, what he saw made him smile. "Steve."

"Hey Danno." Danny was so happy to hear that voice.

Rubbing his eyes, he realized Steve was sitting in a wheelchair. No longer looking like Casper the Ninja Seal Ghost.

"Why you out of bed?"

"Had to see you, partner." Steve squeezed his friend's hand.

Danny tried to sit up a little, but a glare from Steve shut his attempt down. "Joey?"

"Dead. Thanks to you, partner. It's over."

"Over." Danny mumbled before falling back to sleep.

One more chapter...