A/N: Don't expect much of a plot in this, it's just shameless whump and something that wouldn't leave me alone. Plus I needed a Hurt!Danny fix .. badly.

A/N1: So incredibly sorry to those still waiting for an update for Fair Fight, I've re-written the second chapter about eight times already, trying to get it just right, but it's just not working. Hopefully there will be an update soon.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and it's probably good that I don't considering what I like putting Danny through in relation to this story and my previous h50 fics. Ahh. Yeah.

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Danny doesn't remember the bullet hitting him. One minute he'd been kneeling next to an innocent bystander to their latest chase, holding a wadded up t-shirt to a seeping bullet wound on her lower thigh. Steve and the cousins had gone off in pursuit of the shooter, leaving Danny behind to tend to the woman's wounds. A cursory evaluation of her injury had didn't prove serious to the detective, but with the kind of day he was having, he didn't want to take any chances or feel false hope.

But he still doesn't remember the bullet striking him, the force throwing him back onto the pavement in a brick walled alleyway behind a café. The shock stunning him and leaving his mouth agape like a beached fish. Danny Williams prided himself on remember the minute details, the things that other people missed or glanced over. His memory proving to be one of his stronger suits, along with his ability to read people as if he was reading an open book. He still can't remember though and that's what is bugging him as he lay there, trying to breathe.

A fleeting thought coursed through his mind, did he also forget how to fucking breathe? No … that couldn't be it, he may be having an off day, but forgetting a task so innate such as breathing? Danny could remember that.

So why the hell couldn't he draw in a proper breath?

Laying there on the grimy concrete in the alleyway, he thought hard, taxing his brain to fucking remember what had happened. The memories that flooded back stunned him, instilled him with crushing panic.

He'd been kneeling next to the woman, keeping steady pressure on her wound, nothing new there in the memory department, but it was when he saw himself sliding off his belt to make a makeshift tourniquet … that made him pay attention to the memories that played out like a movie in his head, this was something new.

Danny had just finished wrapping the belt around her leg, keeping her calm and quiet when he heard the telltale sound of feet pounding hard at pavement. Someone was in a hurry. Paying little mind to the noise, he started to pull out his phone so he could request an ambulance.

It was when he heard a metallic click of a hammer being pulled back Danny looked up from the woman's leg into the face of their original shooter; Five 0's target, the arms dealer who'd supplied guns to gangs across the island. He'd doubled back. Danny released one hand from his firm grip on the woman's leg and the other went for the gun at his side. He took his shot. Two loud bangs reverberated through the alleyway …

The noise had brought him out of his reverie and made him keenly aware of the dark edges at the peripheries of his vision closing in. He couldn't breathe and he was fucking cold of all things. But Danny knew that he had to do something. He couldn't just lie there and be whatever he was … almost dead, already dead, or fuck, maybe he was just being melodramatic. The thought sparked a little hope in him. The bullet from the arms dealer's gun most likely hit his vest, maybe that's why he couldn't breathe.

Mustering up what little strength he had left, Danny tried to lift his head. The pain at the crook of his neck and clavicle almost made his world go dark.

Definitely not a vest hit. The asshole had hit him in one of the few areas of vulnerability that the otherwise lifesaving vest had to offer.

With a trembling hand, he touched the area radiating the most pain and it came away drenched in crimson.

Fuck.

Steve was going to be pissed. Danny had let his guard down, he'd let a criminal get a shot off, he'd been shot for godsakes.

Steve wasn't going to be pissed.

Steve was going to kill him.

Speaking of Super SEAL, Danny wondered where his partner was exactly until he saw him round the corner into the alleyway. The look of pure shock on Steve's face would have been comical if it had not of been for the three prone bodies in the alleyway. Completely spent, Danny lay back, trying to fucking breathe and be rationally concerned about the copious amounts of blood leaving his body.

Today really wasn't his day…

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Steve had lost their perp in the maze of people that only a beautiful, bright Saturday in Hawaii could supply. They three of 5-0 members had give chase for 8 minutes tops when they lost sight of the man.

If he were to be completely honest with himself, Steve was almost glad the guy got away this time. The streets were filled with people, old, young, and expecting mothers. They'd already had an innocent bystander hurt by the asshole and he wasn't ready to sacrifice lives for one guy. Not today.

He regrouped with Chin and Kono near a surf-shop two blocks away from where they had left Danny with a hurt and frightened woman.

"Damn he was fast," Kono breathed while trying to catch her breath. "You'd figure a kanaka hana kalaima like him would be slow, but no." The dealer had to have been at least 150lbs overweight and the way he lumbered around his warehouse she and Steve staked out belied his speed and agility.

Steve nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "We'll head back to Danny, regroup, make sure the woman's taken care of then back to HQ."

The group started towards the alleyway at a brisk walk, going over anything they may have missed or where their target may have gone. It was when they heard two dull telltale pops of a gun discharging over the sound of the crowds, the trio ran. They followed from where the noise had sounded from and ran into the fray of people running from the shots.

They rounded the corner to the alleyway and their eyes glanced upon the gruesome sight.

The woman with the leg wound lay on the ground, curled slightly in on her side both of her hands clutching at the injury, blood sluggishly leaking out between her fingers.

The arms dealer was sprawled on his back, limbs askew and sightless, unseeing eyes peering up into the blue Hawaiian sky.

And then there was Danny.

Steve was almost certain the writhing figure on the ground before him would be forever ingrained his mind, his nightmares.

Danny lay on his back, convulsing slightly while clutching at the heavily bleeding wound at the base of his neck and to the left a bit. His partner's face was ashen and he was choking, gasping for a breath. His back arched every few moments and the blonde detective's eyes kept rolling back until he was jerked back into awareness. The need to breathe overpowering and setting him into a panic.

The next thing Steve knew he was kneeling next to Danny, his knees cushioning the sides of the detective's head and his hands went to the gushing wound. Somewhere in the periphery of his focus, he heard Kono calling for an ambulance, hastily relaying information as to where her location was and that there was an officer down and Chin was murmuring reassurances to the down woman near Danny's feet.

None of that mattered, though. The sight of his partner, the guy he spent basically everyday of his life for the past year lay, choking on his own blood and bleeding out before him.

He'd seen this before … in fucking Afghanistan. Shrapnel from an IED had caught one of his best friend's throat, immediately tearing into the sensitive flesh and finding the carotid artery. The man had bled out in a matter of minutes; no amount of QuikClot that the SEALS all had stowed away in their packs saving his friend's life.

How Danny was conscious, more importantly alive astounded Steve. The amount of crimson that seeped out between his laced hands over Danny's wound made his own heart falter.

"Danny," he breathed, keeping a steady hold on the wound, but using the other hand to steady the injured man's face. "Danny, c'mon man. Calm down. I know you can't breathe, I get it, but you gotta stop moving." Fuck, telling Danny Williams to just stop was like telling the sun to stop rising. Though it was all for his own good, Steve knew the more someone moved with an injury like Danny's could dislodge any clots. If that happened … well, he didn't want to think about it. It'd most definitely end with a twenty-one gun salute and Danny six feet under the ground.

But surprisingly, Danny complied to Steve's command, visibly ceasing any movement and directing his eyes up towards the former SEAL full of desperation and pleading, the intense blues conveying what his voice could not.

The wail of an ambulance approached somewhere in the distance and Steve noted how Kono directed all the gawkers away from the scene, not wanting them to damage any evidence or get in the way of the EMS technicians who were sure to arrive in a matter of moments.

Once she'd finished her task of securing the perimeter of the scene, she hastily made her way to Danny and Steve.

"Oh my god, Danny," she breathed under her breath as she perused his body, noticing the way his hands clutched for purchase at his sides. Without hesitation, both of her hands grasped Danny's trembling left hand and held on.

Kono pulled her eyes away from the wound and up toward the injured detective's almost translucent face. She offered a meek, reassuring smile and gripped his hand tighter as his eyes rolled back once more, this time not opening again.

The deafening wail of two ambulances drowned out Steve's pleading with Danny for him to open his eyes again. Moments later, EMT's rushed onto the scene, quickly crowding into the small alleyway.

The new few moments were a total blur to what was left of the Five-0 team. The paramedics were throwing around words like hypotension, external hemorrhaging, and more jargon that Steve's trained ears couldn't pick up or understand. Then they asked questions about how long Danny had been down, what kind of gun that was used to cause his injury, if he had any conditions or allergies that they needed to know about.

Steve answered them to the best of his ability, trying to wrap his head around the confusion and the utter chaos that encased the brick walled alley. One moment Danny was on the ground, paramedics hovering over him and the next his partner was being settled into an ambulance, alarms blaring and a paramedic starting CPR.

He watched intently as another team of paramedics worked diligently with the woman that initially had been injured. She was unconscious but the bleeding on her leg seemed to have stopped. At least something had gone right, Steve thought darkly to himself.

Everything had happened so fast. With sirens wailing, the ambulance housing the down officer squealed off towards the nearest trauma center, leaving the Five-0 trio and the remaining paramedics working on the injured woman behind.

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Danny had been in surgery almost 5 hours. No one had been out in the meantime to inform them on any progress or complications, leaving the group with only hopes and speculations.

Chin noted Steve worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth, revealing just how worried their leader was.

"No news is good news, brah." Chin clapped his hand over Steve's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

Steve turned to look at the elder of the cousins, offering him a weak smile. "Still doesn't make waiting any easier."

"I know," Chin agreed with a nod.

"There was so much blood," a small voice from behind the two men whispered. Kono's face had paled significantly, her eyes staring directly ahead not focusing on anything in particular and Steve could tell she was biting the inside of her cheek to keep tears at bay.

Steve and Chin made their way over to the bank of dark blue plastic chairs and seated themselves on opposite sides of their rookie.

"Danno's a stubborn bastard, he'll be fine," Steve assured with little conviction in his words.

A noncommittal 'mmhm' was all he got in return from Kono, but he didn't press the issue any further. Worry gnawed at all their stomachs and sugarcoated assurances only made things worse.

"Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett?"

Steve's head snapped up when he heard his name called. An exhausted looking doctor stood before the group with a tired smile gracing his features. Steve quickly stood up and faced the doctor, trying to read his face for the one piece of news that they were all dreading.

"How's Danny?" he asked unsure and hesitant.

"He made it through the surgery," the doctor replied.

The collective sigh of relief was almost palpable.

"There were, however, a few complications. The sheer volume of blood loss made his blood pressure bottom out, we lost him twice on the table, but we were able to revive him. The wound itself wasn't a through and through, which was interesting but the bullet did nick his internal jugular vein. The damage wasn't quite as severe as we first thought which was fortunate for Detective Williams. We're still transfusing blood since that's our main concern now and keeping up with fluids. With a few days here in the hospital and bed-rest, he should make a complete recovery."

"Can we see him?" Kono questioned, standing up and joining Steve.

"Soon," the doctor started with sympathetic eyes, "We're monitoring him closely in recovery, but as soon as he's settled in the ICU I'll have a nurse come get you and take you to his room. I expect he'll be out for the rest of the day, so we're limiting visitors."

"Thanks, doc." Steve shook the man's hand and then returned to his seated position, figuring that he should probably sit down before he fell down, all adrenaline leaving his system in waves.

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, silently thanking whoever was listening for sparing Danny's life.

"I need to call Rachel, tell her what's happened and make sure that Grace knows. It's supposed to be Danny's weekend tomorrow," Steve murmured tiredly.

Both Chin and Kono patted him on the shoulder, knowing all too well what a call like that entailed with Danny's ex-wife.

Steve mustered up his energy reserves, pushed himself off the incredibly uncomfortable plastic chair, and prepared himself to make the dreaded call.

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Hours later, Steve sat in Danny's dimly lit room watching the sunset through the large windows. Both Kono and Chin had left to go home after sitting with Danny for over an hour to shower, digest the day's events, and get some well-earned sleep.

Movement from the bed, however, pulled him away from the picture perfect oranges and yellows of a Hawaiian setting sun.

"Danny?" he asked tentatively, leaning forward in the chair.

He watched as tired eyes opened and surveyed their surroundings, soon after clouding with confusion.

"You're in the hospital, Danno. It's alright, you're gonna be okay," Steve assured, his voice hoarse from non-use over the past few hours.

His partner started to pull at the oxygen mask that obscured his face with one hand and the other went to his throat, which was swathed in stark white bandages.

"Don't touch, brah. Leave 'em be and don't try to talk," Steve commanded gently, grasping Danny's hands and lowering them back down to his side. "I called Rachel and Grace, they know. Gracie's probably coming by tomorrow afternoon with Rachel. You're gonna be here for a few days, but you're going to be okay."

There was something else in Danny's eyes that hinted at confusion and a longing for answers. Steve looked at him with a confused expression on his face.

Danny weakly made a gun with his thumb and pointer finger.

"The dealer's dead," Steve supplied.

His partner mimicked the motion again. Steve paused for a moment, thinking until it hit him.

"The injured lady?" he inquired.

The detective nodded weakly.

"She's okay. I went to see her while you were in surgery. It was a clean hit, through and through."

A small smile graced Danny's lips before proceeding to lift a hand to point at Steve.

"How am I?"

Another weak nod.

"You get shot in the neck and ask how I am? And you say I'm overprotective, Danno," Steve joked, a genuine laugh escaping past his lips.

Danny just frowned and gestured towards Steve once again.

The SEAL huffed. "I'm fine, Danny. Worried, but fine. You weren't doing so hot a few hours ago, so give a man time to adjust. I'm pretty sure your NDE's shave at least three years off my life expectancy."

The blonde in the bed simply offered a small smile and a dismissive wave of his hand like his almost dying wasn't a big deal. He then dropped back into the world of a recuperative sleep.

Steve gave Danny's now still left hand a quick squeeze before settling back into his chair.

A day that had started so wrong and only got progressively worse didn't end as bad as he thought it would eight hours before.

And for that he was grateful.

THE END.

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So, no banter, not a lot of character interaction, and little plot.

Just whump and blood.

Hopefully that gets me some brownie points since character interaction is HUGE in this show and yeah .. just wasn't a lot of it. oh well ..

Anyway, thanks for reading!