I've gone a bit ahead of myself with this story, because the episode that it's based on hasn't even aired yet! But with such a tempting spoiler, I really couldn't wait.

This is my idea for a missing scene to episode 1.23, where Danny is exposed to some kind of chemical agent - most likely sarin, or a similiar substance. We know he'll be okay, of course, but that won't stop Steve from setting up camp at his bedside. So with special thanks to Claire for inspiring my plot bunnies, here's my idea on what might happen during the episode, as Danny starts to recover.

As with my previous stories, and certainly for the purpose of this one, I've made Danny slightly younger than Steve. Maybe it's the height difference, or that little splatter of grey in Steve's hair, but Steve just strikes me as being a little bit older :o)

Enjoy!

Kaikaina

Four doctors, seven nurses, and the best neurologist on the island had told him the crisis was past. Danny was out of danger. With rest and time, he'd make a complete recovery, with no complications.

But until Danny told him that himself, until he saw him open his eyes, Steve McGarrett wasn't going anywhere. Seemingly welded into the chair next to his partner's bed, he still watched anxiously over his friend – regrets that had swirled privately around his mind tumbling out of it now, as guilt and tiredness overwhelmed him.

"I'm sorry, Danno, I should have seen this coming. I should have done more to protect you."

Praying for a response, but answered only with silence, stillness, and beeping monitors, Steve sighed and rubbed his face – absently noting that, with four days worth of stubble and his appearance in general, the head of Hawaii's most elite task force currently looked anything but.

Danny looked worse, of course. Much worse. Exposure to that sarin had taken an awful toll on him. Even on oxygen, every breath was painfully laboured. His face was pale, gaunt. Horribly still.

The closest thing he'd ever had to a brother had almost died, because of him, and - damn it! This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. He should have prevented this. Kept that brother safe. Protected him, as Danny had always done for him.

"I should have protected you, Danno. Kept you out of this," he whispered, choking on every word – the weight on his conscience only increasing as he recalled their less than friendly first meeting.

"You said you wouldn't die for my vendetta, and… damn it, Danny, you've – you've just come so close."

Exhausted and demoralised, it took more time than usual for those SuperSEAL senses to fully kick in. But gradually he felt it. The slightest movement through a body that had been too still for too long. The weakest twitch in the hand that rested inside his own. And when a soft groan followed it, Steve shot out of his chair as if he'd just sat down on a launching Tomahawk.

"Danny? Danny, can you hear me? Danny?"

No response. Ten seconds passed. Still no response. Nothing. And Steve felt his spirits crash back through his boots. Damn it!

But a few seconds later, just as he'd convinced himself that he'd imagined it all, Danny's eyes flickered gingerly open. Instinctively they turned sideways, blinking for clarity, then slowly focussing into full recognition.

"St-St've?"

Relief surged through him, as if released by a dam. Tears of pure joy leaked into his eyes.

"Yeah, Danny, it's me. Welcome back, kaikaina."

An eyebrow rose. The other doggedly followed, into an expression that was unmistakeably familiar. And Steve felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders as he waited for its priceless conclusion.

"What did you just call me?"

The smile on Steve's face almost split his face in two as he savoured every second of this moment. Even when he'd just stopped knocking at death's door, you just couldn't keep this Jersey boy down.

"Kaikaina," he grinned, unable to resist the temptation of giving Danny's hair a brotherly ruffle. "It means little brother."

"Little brother," Danny echoed, glaring at him as indignantly as the meds inside him and four days of unconsciousness would allow. "Hey, I'm only three months younger than you!"

'Four days in a coma, and you wake up complaining… yeah, that's my Danno.'

"Yes, but you're shorter than me, by eight clear inches," Steve explained through a gleeful smirk – knowing there'd be hell to pay for that, and for what he said next, but too giddy with relief to care.

"So that qualifies you as little, and the rest… well, that qualifies you as brother."

Another paint-peeling scowl merely hinted at the payback to come, but Steve still didn't care. Just hours ago, he'd been terrified that he'd never see it again, so… hell, yes, he was cherishing it now. From now on, he'd cherish that glare forever.

Danny, too, seemed to have realized that he'd come dangerously close to meeting his maker. Steve could see it in his eyes now, a fear that didn't belong in a soul that had fought so hard for life – instantly serious again as he squeezed Danny's hand, giving him the physical proof of life he needed.

"You gave us one hell of a scare, Danno, but you're going to be fine. You're going to be okay."

It took several seconds to get there, but a lopsided smile gradually made a welcome reappearance. He was tiring fast, though, barely managing the protest that was more priceless now than ever before.

"What've I told you about that?"

Unfazed, unmoved, and grinning again, like a Cheshire cat on speed, Steve just shrugged his shoulders

"Would you prefer the other thing, kaikaina?"

Realizing this was an argument he wasn't going to win, at least not yet, Danny just rolled his eyes – still determined, though, to give that argument his best shot as he drifted back to sleep.

"Steve?"

"What?"

"What's the Hawaiian for pain in the ass?"