A/N: I know that it's been a long, very long time since I've updated this story. And I don't want to make a whole thing out of it, but let me apologize for leaving you guys mid-story. That wasn't a cool thing to do. But I do have a brand new chapter to share with you all, so here we go... enjoy!

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ROUGHLY TWENTY-EIGHT STITCHES

JERRY'S BASEMENT OFFICE - FIVE-0 HEADQUARTERS - O'AHU

Danny hadn't even finished unbuttoning his shirt when he heard footsteps fleeting down the corridor. Undoing the last two buttons Danny realized those weren't the only thing coming in a pair. The footsteps were not singular, there were two sets of footsteps. Danny sighed, he should've known Jerry wouldn't be returning alone.

The footsteps were accompanied by the words. "He's in here."

Jerry came through the doorway. Holding the first aid kit underneath his arm. Danny expected Steve to enter the room after Jerry, but to his surprise, nobody other than Junior Reigns stepped in.

Still disappointed in his coworker's discretion, Danny candidly asked. "What did I tell you?"

"You told me to go grab the first aid kit," Jerry said and handed the medical box over.

Danny took hold of the kit and pointed at the newest team member. "Then what's Junior doing down here?"

"I'm just here to help, Sir," Junior said, steadfast but with the right intentions.

"Fine—," Danny breathed out. "But not a word to Steve about this, understood?"

"I promise," Junior said with a firm nod. Then he eyed Danny, examining. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Danny said willing to put everyone's mind at ease as that seemed necessary by the worried glances that he received. Maybe those glances weren't for nothing because Danny wasn't sure whether he was fine or not. Wanting to find out, Danny shrugged his shirt off his shoulder. He withheld the urge to wince as pain ripped through, it already felt like a habit to do so.

With his shirt off, Danny looked down to the right side of his chest and realized his coworkers' caring act hadn't been all for nothing. The fact that he had become adjusted to the dark but healing bruises marbling his chest, didn't mean his friends weren't alarmed by them as they showed the trauma he'd endured. Good thing the surgical incision, with roughly twenty-eight stitches or so, was still covered by a bandage, or else Jerry would've alerted Steve for sure.

Checking the bandage, it appeared clean, with no bloodstain emerging through. Coming to think of it, the stain on his shirt wasn't crimson either and the pain had just felt wasn't located in his chest but in his shoulder and therefore Danny said, "I'm not bleeding, I think."

"Are you sure? May I have a look?" Junior checked and took place on the couch next to Danny. Junior looked careful and close by. "You're right, it's not blood. More like fluid. Looks like it's coming from the smaller incision." He concluded and pointed at the one-inch cut from the chest tube insertion.

"You sure?" Danny questioned as that would be the most less terrible outcome. The doctor had told Danny it be normal to have some drainage even after it stopped which it had, two days prior. Danny had to admit, there was a lot of drainage this time around, but maybe that had to do with the certain physical activity he shouldn't be having. The doctor had been adamant about it and by punching the life out of Tao Fong, Danny had completely ignored the post-surgery rules. Danny faced Junior. "If that's the case, I just need a bandage."

"Coming right up," Junior said opening the first aid kit.

Danny watched Junior prep the bandage. "O, by the way, I apologize for hogging your room at Steve's place."

"No need to, Sir," Junior smiled. "I'm happy to stay at Tani's."

"I bet you are," Danny said, rolling his eyes. Then there was a sudden sting in his chest. "Ai!" he hissed and flicked his gaze down to his chest. Junior had wiped the small incision clean with saline-soaked gauze. "Next time a warning would be nice," Danny growled.

Before Junior could apologize, Steve stepped through the door, and before Danny could even sigh and reassure him, Steve's face fell. "Whoa— What's going on?"

"It's fine. It's nothing," Danny assured.

"You sure?" Steve gave him a firm glare, one with concern lingering underneath.

"Yeah,"

"Let me see that," Steve said demandingly. He crouched down and inspected the incision himself. Then he looked at the youngest member in the room. "Junior,"

"He's fine. Really." Junior avowed and put the bandage over the incision.

Steve kept his focus on Junior. "Tell me what happened?"

Junior shook his head. "No sir, I promised not to say anything."

"Your loyalty is usually admirable but right now you're just being stupid," Steve said, paused, and then looked at Danny. "We have to go though, or else you'll be late for PT."

Danny shrugged his shirt back over his shoulder and started buttoning up.

"Before you guys go," Jerry stated. "The DEA got wind of my creative way to get access to the files and records you requested. The governor's office called twice now."

"So much for low-key," Steve sighed. "Junior, would you mind dropping him off at PT."

"No problem,"

FIVE-0 HEADQUARTERS - DOWNTOWN HONOLULU - O'AHU

Once Danny and Junior left, Steve walked out of Jerry's bunker himself. He went back through the concrete corridors, took a right, pressed the button for the freight elevator to come back down, and rode the cart up to the ground floor. There he transferred to another elevator and rode it to their headquarters. The door slid apart and then he stepped out. Steve walked straight ahead, pulled open the glass door leading to their workspace, and marched inside. Passing the office cubicles of his coworkers, Grover opened his door and leaned out.

"Did you get anything out of Tao Fong?" Lou asked.

Steve marched on. "No, he's not talking."

Tani stood at the technical table, with her fingers still on the device's keypad she looked at Steve. "What about dry conspiracy? Would that be enough to arrest and hold Kim?"

"No, it's not, we don't even have enough evidence for a search warrant let alone arrest," Steve stated and joined Tani at the tech table. "We have to connect Kim directly to the drugs and none of it can be circumstantial if we wanna move on narcotics charges."

Lou had tagged along after Steve. "Then we really need to get Tao Fong to talk."

"That would be our quickest option," Steve said agreeing, and turned his head to the glass office doors as a whooshing sound alerted him that someone entered the office. A man Steve had never seen before walked in. He wore a plain dark blue suit with a crisp white button-up shirt underneath and a tie around his neck in the same shade as the suit. Steve guessed the guy looked in his late forties or early fifties because of the grey streak in his otherwise black hair.

The man in question closed in on the three of them standing around the tech table. Approaching he said, "I hear you have arrested Tao Fong to connect Kim Leung to the drugs, and to the conspiracy of trafficking drugs with evidential proof," his voice was low, yet vibrating with power and command. It was a voice with authority and he made sure of it as he added. "You need to let him go." Then he held up a federal ID. A worn gold badge, with a shield and an eagle, and a plastic card like a driver's license, except it said United States Department of Justice, Drug Enforcement Administration. The photograph was the right guy, a lot younger, with his hair brushed better and his tie knotted tighter. The writing said his name was Moore and his rank was Special Agent.

"Why would we let him go?" Steve asked confused. "Because you say so?"

"No, not because I say so," Agent Moore said as he put his ID away and then looked up at Steve. "Because Tao Fong's an informant and if you want Kim Leung behind bars as badly as I do you'll let Fong walk and gather the information we need from the inside."

Lou's eyebrows went up. "An Informant for the DEA, really?"

"Well, hungry dogs are never loyal, especially not towards the guy that had your uncle killed," Moore said proudly as if he had hauled Fong in himself.

Steve wasn't impressed by it and kept his eye on the endgame. "All due respect Special Agent Moore, but me and my team will take down Kim Leung whether you and your agency will collaborate and share your information or not."

"That's why I came down here. To loop your Taskforce in on our investigation," Agent Moore acknowledge. "We need to start working together."

"Why don't you start at the beginning."

"I will, but you really should release Mr. Fong from your custody. If word gets out he's been talking, that would be bad news."

Steve was quiet for a beat, then turned to the two team members standing next to him. "Lou. Tani, go get Fong," he agreed. "Take him out through the loading dock. Drive him where he thinks he's safe and good to get out."

"Will do," Lou said and together with Tani he went and left the office.

Agent Moore gave a quick nod. "Thank you, Commander."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Now it's your turn. Please do explain from the beginning."

"Right," Moore said. "To keep it short, the DEA had taps on Randy Tao's operations for years. I mean their network used to light up like neon. Then when we wanted to make our big move, the entire Tao family was murdered and nothing lit up at all. We tried to monitor the network, to follow it, but we couldn't see any incoming product. No pills or powders going anywhere. So at one point, we asked ourselves what happened to their addicts? Did they all go cold turkey? Or die? Or is someone else supplying?" Moore said rhetorically. "Now, Kim Leung wasn't our first choice. We knew about his involvement with the family and then his own movements within the Triad, but it took us months to figure it out."

Steve frowned. "To figure out what exactly?"

"That Kim Leung's currently coordinating a network invisible to the DEA, one that extends at least into Hawaii, the mainland, and Hong Kong and that uses some kind of last-surviving loophole source. His product stays under the radar and seems impossible to trace."

Steve shrugged. "Then how do you know this."

"Because of Special Agent Bob Henderson," Moore shared with certain gratitude to the deceased agent. "Agent Henderson was with the DEA for 12 years. He had a wife and two daughters. He was one of those guys that didn't say no." he summed up commemorate.

Steve uncrossed his arms and let out a breath as he felt his heart go out to the family Henderson left behind. "How long was he undercover?"

"Almost 18 months," Moore said. "Thanks to his efforts and Mr. Fong's information, we know about an extremely large shipment coming in and are about to take Kim Leung down."

"How large?" Steve questioned.

Agent Moore stayed silent. Steve took it the man was considering his 'full cooperation'. After a beat he said. "35 million dollars worth of fentanyl."

"That's— I mean—" Steve said baffled. "When is the shipment coming in?"

"In three weeks," Moore stated. "That's why I'm here to stop you from making any sudden moves. We will need to be patient if we want what will be the biggest drug bust in Hawaii."

Now that sentence put a smile on Steve's face. It showed all the cards Agent Moore was playing and why he had made the effort to come down here himself. Steve flicked his eyes at the man standing in front of him. Made sure their lock connected as Steve said. "That might be what you want, but it's not what we want. I don't care about the drugs. I want Kim Leung arrested for it," Steve demanded. "And if you cannot deliver on that then I can't guarantee you that we will stay put until then."

"We have a solid and air-tight case against Kim Leung. He will be the one getting charged." Moore said reaching out his hand, waiting for Steve to seal the deal.

"Good," Steve agreed and they shook hands. "You'll have our full cooperation, Agent Moore,"

"I appreciate it," Moore said with a firm nod. Then as if he suddenly remembered he added. "O, and I was sorry to hear about what happened to your partner, Commander. Agent Henderson reports—"

"Let me stop you right there," Steve interrupted as he could feel his heartbeat quicken. "You knew Kim Leung had taken my partner?"

Agent Moore put his hands in his pants pockets. "I did,"

"Why didn't you alert us?" Steve asked perplexed.

"It was a complicated situation, Commander. There—,"

Steve cut off the man's lousy excuse. "No, it wasn't. All you had to do was make a quick phone call."

Agent Moore sighed. "Well, I hear he's on the mend, is he not?"

"On the mend?" Steve fumed. "If that's what you wanna call spending eight days inside the hospital, barely hanging on to life, then sure he's on the mend."

"I didn't know—"

"The thing is, you did know," Steve argued. "You did know and decided not to do anything with the information you were given. You decided to let Detective Williams die," he concluded, and by the look on Agent Moore's face that came as a blow to the stomach. "That's right, he nearly died because of his injuries. His kids almost didn't have a father anymore and guess what, that would've been on you because you did know."

With that said and with his heart pounding sorrowfully in his chest, Steve turned and walked away towards his office cubicle.

"Commander, what are you going to do." Moore quested with Steve's departure.

"People like Kim Leung don't get to torture my friend and live to tell the tale," Steve said pulling open the glass office door. "I'll see you in three weeks, Agent Moore. And this time, keep me informed on anything, I want to know everything. Regardless of how useless it may seem to you."

PHYSICAL THERAPY CENTER - DOWNTOWN HONOLULU - O'AHU

Once Agent Moore left and Steve had some time to digest the latest news on Kim Leung's affairs, it was time for Steve to pick up his partner from his PT session. Steve went outside. Took the Camaro and drove downtown to the physical therapy center. Steve drove fast. Not because he was running late. It was because he was still rilled up on the last part of the conversation he had with Agent Moore and that resulted in his foot flooring the gas pedal.

Arriving, Steve parked the Camaro on the side of the curb and killed the engine. The rehab center was located on the ground floor of a several-story building. Steve couldn't count all the way up from his point of view, but it was minimally six floors up and more. He couldn't look inside either because the windows had a one-way coating on the glass. Steve checked his watch, only to realize he had driven there really fast. He sighed and settled back in his seat, trying to get comfortable while he waited the ten minutes he had to sit out.

The pointer on his watch didn't have the chance to fully rotate 360 degrees before Steve unlatched the door, stepped out, and went inside the building.

The front desk employee pointed Steve in the right direction. Not that she needed to. Steve had been here a bunch of times before. For himself but thinking about it, mostly to drop or pick up his partner. Steve sighed as he walked down a narrow hallway leading to an open gym space. The room was furnished with exercise and recovery equipment and a few treatment tables. There were three ongoing sessions. Six people in total. Three physical therapists and three patients or clients as the facility likes to point out. Two of the treatment tables were occupied. On one of them sat Danny. Positioned with had back facing Steve. Danny had changed out his button-up shirt for a T-shirt as it was probably more appropriate for the appointment.

Steve crossed his arms, rested his shoulder against the doorframe, and watched the session continue from a small distance. Danny sat straight-backed with his feet flat on the floor. He clasped his hands together in front of him, kept his hands clasped as he lifted his arms up and over his head, and slowly slide his hands down the back of his neck. It seemed like he had done this before as the female physical therapist gave no directives and just guided the strength exercise.

"Try bringing your elbows as far back as possible," the physical therapist instructed and Danny did what was told. "That's it. We're going to hold it for five," the physiotherapist said and started counting back. "Four. Three. Tw—," Danny's hands unclasped and he let out a pained grunt. His right arm slumped back down while his left hand grasped for his hurting shoulder.

"It's okay," she comforted. "It's normal for your pain to increase a little as you start to be more active," she added calm and sympathetic. "Are you resting between your activity during the day? Getting proper sleep at night?"

"Today, not really," Danny said sitting rigid in pain. Steve immediately was flooded with guilt. He should've been firm and stand one's ground by keeping Danny home.

The therapist made Steve's guilt worse by saying. "I can tell that you're tired," and then held Danny responsible for Steve's mistake. "But if you want this to work, Danny, you need to take the post-op rules seriously."

"I am— I will," Danny reassured.

"How's your breathing? Or chest in general? Better than before the surgery?" She questioned and Steve guessed it was a follow-up on the PT sessions Danny had related to the bullet penetrating his chest wall. Sessions Steve had no knowledge or if Dr. Keller hadn't told him about it that evening in the ER.

"It's getting there," Danny acknowledged. Breathing's okay, still hurts like hell when I cough or sneeze, but nothing like before. They removed some scarring, so that worked I guessed."

"Good," the PT lady said pleased. "What kind of pain medications are you taking?"

"Just over-the-counter stuff, ibuprofen mostly," Danny said.

The therapist seemed surprised. "Already? Did your doctor sign off on switching to over-the-counter pain medications?"

"Does he have to?"

The physical therapist scratched her eyebrow as she seemed stunned by Danny's stubbornness and so did Steve.

"Danny, prescription pain medication will help you get back to your normal activities. It's important to control your pain so you can do your exercises comfortably. It will help you recover better and it might help you regain some of the mobility in your shoulder," she explained. "And you know, if we don't get your shoulder mobility back up to ninety percent, nobody's gonna let you return to work. Especially not Dr. Keller, who without doubt wants to do a few official tests to declare you fit for active duty," she took a deep breath before continuing her speech and what seemed like some bad news. "And to be straight with you, right now, I'm seeing less than fifty percent mobility. That's not good at all."

MCGARRETT'S HOUSE - 5329 KALANIANAOLE HWY - O'AHU

On the drive home, Steve tried to process the concerning news. He was aware Danny's shoulder movements were limited but didn't expect it to be less than fifty percent. And now knowing the mobility had to increase a decent forty percent Steve had a hard time staying positive. The physical therapist had been right when she said that nobody was going to let Danny return to active duty with a shoulder functioning this bad. Even Steve didn't have enough authority to do anything about that. At the end of the day, if any team member didn't have a clean bill of health signed off by a medical professional,— that was it.

With a few more weeks to heal up, Danny would probably pass the physical test. Steve didn't worry much about that. But he knew that if any doctor were to sign off, there would also be a shooting test included to make sure Danny would be able to make a quick response if needed in the field. And that part of the official clearing did worry Steve as he was not sure Danny could shoot within clear margins. Heck, Steve even wondered if he could raise a gun with the terrible condition his shoulder appeared in. And if that were true Danny's career as a detective would be over.

Steve swallowed the bitter thought and took his eyes briefly off the road, to look aside at Danny. Who was staring into the abyss and hadn't said much yet either. Maybe he was tired, he certainly looked the part, or maybe he was thinking about the low statistics too. Steve suspected Danny was already aware of the terrible condition his shoulder turned out to be as it was his shoulder. Obviously, Steve had seen him struggle and be in pain the past few days. However, that stayed a guess for Steve, because Danny wasn't talking about any of it.

Arriving at his house, Steve swung straight onto the driveway and parked the Camaro. He stepped out, went around the hood, and pulled the car door on Danny's side open. Without saying anything Steve reached out and offered a hand. If he had said something, Danny for sure would've declined the helping hand, so Steve figured this would be more efficient.

His theory proved to be right. Danny took hold of Steve's hand and with a tight grip, Steve pulled Danny up and out of the passenger seat.

Danny mumbled, "Thanks," as he slammed the car door shut behind him.

Steve went ahead and walked up to the house. He took his own set of keys to unlock the front door and as he opened it he shot a glance over his shoulder to see where Danny was at. Only to see his partner not even halfway down the front yard. Based on Danny's slow and gingerly movements Steve realized he had missed the early signs of fatigue.

"Done too much today?" Steve asked as Danny made it to the front porch.

Looking exhausted, Danny leaned against the porch beam. "Maybe," he said with his chest heaving. He took a few more slow breaths and walked with a hobble inside.

When Danny passed Steve, Steve said. "Yeah,— well let me just say this," he closed the front door. "No more field trips to the office for you,"

Not even halfway through the living room, Danny turned around with short clumsy movements to face Steve. "That's— it was my own decision."

"You won't be making those anymore," Steve stated and tossed his keys on the side table next to the front door. "Besides, most people use major surgery as an excuse not to work. Just take a few weeks. Heal up, okay?"

"O— give me a break. We are not most people," Danny argued back.

That put a grin on Steve's face. "I knew you were going to say that,"

"Of course you did," Danny rolled his eyes. "Then you should also know you don't have a say in whether I go to the office or not because I'm not gonna sit in your house and do nothing all day."

"You won't be doing nothing. You'd be taking time to heal and rest because if you don't, you can't—,"

"I can't— What? Can't return to work?"

"No of course you can," Steve said quickly and explained. "I'm just asking you to take the recovery seriously."

"I am!" Danny snapped.

Steve wanted that to be true. There was nothing more he cared for at the moment than Danny's well-being. Danny was the only person Steve couldn't bear losing. Not in life. Not as his friend or partner. He actually had never fought for anyone to stay in his life. He simply accepted that everyone would leave him, eventually. His father. His mother. Catherine even left and Steve had let her. Just Danny he had fought against losing. From the very beginning, Steve had done everything he could to prove to Danny how great Hawaii was, so he'd not have a reason to leave at the first opportunity. He went with Danny to Colombia; later, did everything to get Danny out of the Colombian jail. In multiple life-or-death situations, Steve chose to rather stay and die with Danny, than live in a world without him.

And it might be selfish of Steve not to want to lose Danny as his partner. But Steve knew that if Danny didn't recover and could go back to the job as the seasoned detective that he was, that life would fall apart for Danny.

Knowing that it left Steve with no other options.

"You know what," Steve said and took the gun out of his holster. He checked if the chamber was empty and made sure the safety was on. He could've ejected the magazine too but that would make the gun lighter in weight. "Here," he said and handed over his gun to Danny. "Pretend to shoot me."

Danny's eyebrows snapped together. "What?"

"Pretend to shoot me," Steve repeated and explained. "I need to know if you can raise your arm quick enough and shoot."

"I know I'm no use in the field, I'm not that stupid, okay?"

"No? Show me," Steve said daringly, and after some hesitation, Danny took hold of the gun. He leaned the cane against the brown leather chair and positioned himself steadily enough without the aid. Then he put his left hand around his right and raised the gun in a swift and smooth motion. However, Steve could tell Danny's left hand was doing all the lifting so he strictly said. "Without the support of your left hand."

Danny sighed, lowered the gun, and let go with his left hand. Then he tried again. His right arm raised gradually but trembling and by the time the gun was pointed at Steve's mid-center Danny's hand was shaking and so did the gun.

Even though Steve had made his point, he said. "Do it faster."

Danny once again lowered the weapon and raised his arm in a quick and smooth motion, like ripping a bandaid off. But just like ripping a bandaid off, it always hurt.

Danny let the gun slip out of his trembling hand and he went rigid with pain. "Arg," the gun clattered on the floor. "You, putz," he grunted.

"Sorry," Steve apologized as he knew had might have gone too far. He picked the gun off the floor and as he came back up, Danny suddenly took on a pale look. It was as if his heart had suddenly stopped beating and all the blood had run down from his face— even his lips were barely there. "Whoa, ey, you good?" Steve asked with wide eyes. Danny swayed for just a moment and Steve instantly grabbed Danny's arm. "Don't faint on me, buddy. Let's sit down, okay?" Steve said and guided Danny to the brown leather chair.

Danny plummeted into the chair like a puppet suddenly released of their strings. Steve checked for a pulse in his neck. Steve touched his fingers to Danny's skin. His pulse was tapping away just fine. "You good?" Steve questioned but Danny gave no response, just stared ahead. Steve tried a different method. "Do I need to call for the medics?"

Danny's eyes darted alert. "No,—"

"Relax, I won't. I just needed you to say something," Steve reassured and let out a scared breath himself. "Your shoulder's hurting that bad, huh?"

"Mhmm— and everything else," Danny admitted, wincing in pain.

Steve frowned. "What, like your knee? Chest?"

"Head too." He said and leaned his probably pounding head back against the chair.

"Where did you put the painkillers?" Steve asked as he straightened and looked back down at Danny. "The prescribed ones."

A bit reluctant Danny answered. "Bathroom mirror,"

Steve rushed off to the bathroom, search the mirror cabinet, and found the medication where Danny said it would be. Steve filled a glass with water before he returned to the living room.

"Here," he said handing Danny the glass of water. Then he popped out two pills as prescribed on the label. "Take these," he instructed as Steve gave them to Danny. Who in turn stared at the pills in his hand. "Take them," Steve pleaded. "I need you in the field in about three weeks to take down Kim Leung for good. I need you there."

— TBC / HAWAIIFIVE0 —

A/N: Please know that if you're reviewing anonymously I am not able to contact you in any way.

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Definitely not abandoning this story, I put too much time in it to just leave it :)

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