A/N: I guess you could say this is set in the early seasons... I wrote it for a friend who's just starting the series. (And, confession, I never saw more than the first few seasons or so. I do need to fix that.)

Standard disclaimers apply.


There are a few things Danny Williams knows for absolute certain.

One: Grace is his world.

Two: Nothing beats a cold beer on a hot day.

And three: He is going to kill Steve McGarrett.

That last one Danny knows he knows for sure. And that's saying something, since right now, he doesn't really know anything outside of the fact that it's cold. And it's dark. And, oh yeah, he's gonna kill Steve as soon as he sees him.

Danny sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. It's not that the gesture does anything for his senses since he can't see a darn thing anyway, but it's the thought that counts. Or something like that. Then he refocuses his attention on the situation at hand.

He's currently trapped in a cave on the side of a mountain. A stupid mountain on a stupid island where he doesn't even really want to be in the first place. Where his phone probably gets no service, even if it hadn't gotten smashed along the way and was currently as useless as a brick. He much prefers New Jersey. Less mountainous caves to get stuck in. Wonderful place; Steve should try visiting sometime. Then again, maybe he shouldn't. Danny would actually like to have a New Jersey to move back to when this is all over.

But enough of that. If he doesn't get out of this cave, it won't matter what Steve does to the rest of the world. So again, Danny frowns and tries to take stock of his situation.

So what does he know? Well, it's cold and it's dark. That's a start. And he knows he's in a cave. The question is, does anyone else know he's in a cave? The team had been investigating a body found about halfway up one of the hiking trails on this mountain that morning. They'd hiked up the steep trail, thankfully not having to lug any equipment with them, a fact for which Danny was ever so grateful. It was their job to survey the scene, not take photos or collect evidence, and Danny had never been happier in his ranking as a detective than he had that morning.

He frowns a little then. What had happened after they hiked up the trail to the body? For some reason, his memory is a little fuzzy after that. As he tries to remember, he suddenly groans at the pain that shoots through his head. That's quite unexpected. His frown deepens, which serves only to make the pain worse, and he puts a hand up to his temple to try to massage away the ache.

His fingers are greeted by a sticky, slightly crusty… something on the side of his head.

A split second of curiosity is followed by a flicker of panic as he realizes it's blood. His blood. And then he tentatively follows the blood upward until he reaches its source, at which point he feels something churning in the pit of his stomach. He has only a moment to wonder if he's suddenly panicking at the idea of his own blood before he involuntarily leans over and spews his lunch all over… well, all over what he hopes is the ground in front of him. He can't see well enough to know what he's puking on. Hopefully nothing alive.

He's never been a fan of vomiting, and this time it's worse because there's some kind of pain in his side, and every time his muscles contract, they squeeze his stomach and send fiery bolts of something fierce through him. He wants to control his system, wants to stop the misery before it happens, but no such luck. He can feel it as it tracks upward, and then it's all coming out.

He's only had one meal so far that day that he can remember, and it's soon out of his mouth and splattered in front of him. He has no time to dread the next part of the process before he's dry-heaving and gasping for air between his stomach wringing itself dry. Literally the only thing that keeps him from passing out from the pain in his side is the knowledge that he could very well land in the mess he just created, and he is not going to let that be the image in the last photographs taken of him.

He's panting by the time he's done as the last of the dry heaves subside, and he backs up a few stumbling steps, feeling around for a dry, clean place to sit. His hand comes into contact with a hard, cold surface, and he realizes it's a boulder of some kind. Gratefully, he sinks down onto it and can't hold back the growl of pain that escapes through his lips as he does. He puts his hand to his side, trying to do something, anything, to find some sort of relief. It only helps a little, but he just ignores it and brings his thoughts back to the events of the day leading up to where he currently found himself.

So the team had trekked up the mountainside to the small campsite where the pair of hikers had discovered the murder victim. Things had gone like they normally did once the team had arrived at the crime scene. It was nothing special; there were no crazy clues or unexpected discoveries in the small clearing. And then, of course, because nothing was ever simple with Steve, Danny's partner had spotted something that caught his attention enough to give chase. And of course, because Danny's an idiot, he'd listened to Steve's yell and gone racing off after him into the rough terrain. He isn't cut out for this kind of life, he keeps telling himself, yet somehow he keeps making dumb decisions and perpetuating it. And then they'd gotten separated, and there was a loose rock on the path, and before Danny had known what was happening, he was tumbling down through a hole that had seemed to open up out of nowhere and swallow him up.

Danny puts a hand to his head at the memory of the fall. Or rather, the fall's ending. Which had been just an explosion of light and pain and then utter darkness, come to think of it. That certainly explains the blood and the pain he's currently experiencing, he realizes, although a little voice in the back of his brain vaguely voices the thought that there is quite possibly much more wrong than he's noticed so far. He pushes it away. There will be plenty of time to worry about that later when he can actually see again and properly assess his situation. In the meantime, there's no point in worrying about what he can't do anything about anyway.

For just a brief moment, he starts to panic. He can't do anything about anything, come to think of it. He's stuck in some stupid hole on the side of a stupid mountain in stupid Hawaii, all because his stupid partner had to go after some random person he thought he saw, and now Danny's the one having to pay the piper for the reckless endangerment.

Is it possible to file charges against your partner for something like that? He'll have to look it up once he gets back to the office.

"I hope you're happy with yourself, Steve!" he suddenly yells aloud in frustration. Not that it's going to do him any good being as completely isolated as he is, but he has to admit it's a bit cathartic.

And then he nearly falls off of the rock when he hears his partner's voice echoing back to him. "Danny? Danny, is that you?"

"Steve?" Danny's incredulous. Maybe he should have yelled much sooner.

But yes, it's definitely his Steve's voice coming from somewhere beyond the darkness. "Just hold on, buddy. We're gonna get you out!"

"Are you okay, Danny?" That's Kono's voice now.

Danny raises an eyebrow, even though he knows they can't see him. It's the thought that counts. "Define 'okay.'"

Rocks start hitting the ground somewhere nearby, and then a tiny crack of sunlight appears in the darkness as someone shifts another rock. Danny jumps to his feet in anticipation of freedom and eagerness to taste fresh air again, but the action is too quick of a change for his already-muddled mind to process. He feels more than sees himself swaying and the next thing he knows, he's on his hands and knees on the ground.

Someone's yelling at him, and he suddenly realizes the sliver of blue sky has widened even more.

"Danny!" Steve again.

In the next blink of an eye, Danny's partner is now crouching next to him with a hand on his back. "Hey, stay put, okay? We're gonna get you out."

Danny wants to say something to make the other man realize just how hare-brained it was to go running off and making the others follow suit in terrain they are extremely unfamiliar with, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, he just frowns sternly. "What took… so long?"

"We didn't even know where you were at first," Steve objects. "You'd better thank your lucky stars that we noticed the broken branches by where you fell, or else we'd still be combing the mountainside for you." There's something unreadable in his eyes, even as he smiles.

"…time?" Danny hopes Steve knows what he wants.

"Almost four," Steve replies. He shrugs. "Well, once we found you, we had to dig you out." Then he smirks, even as he turns to grab the harness that's being lowered down to him. "I hope you weren't too bored by yourself for so long."

"Oh…" Danny lets his own smirk spread slowly across his face. "I managed."

Maybe he was undecided on the killing-Steve-McGarrett thing. If nothing else, he was at least going to wait until Steve wasn't his only way out of this stupid hole.


Fin.