Disclaimer: I don't own Hawaii, 5-0, or anyone named Grace.
His blonde hair was still tousled, blood continued to drip steadily down the cut on his cheek no matter how much pressure I applied, and his fists were still balled up and shaking. Ready for a fight to continue that was well over with.
"What am I going to do with you?" I demanded, replacing yet another tissue in an attempt to stem the flow, "this is the third time this month!"
"What can I say, he had it coming to him."
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"What can I say, Grace!" He demanded, one hand leaving the wheel for a split second to gesture out at the expansive parking lot about us. "I've had these tickets for months, you all but got on your knees and begged me to get them and when I, by chance, won them in a contest you tell me no!"
"Trevor hadn't asked me out when I wanted those tickets." I reminded him in as calm a voice as I could manage at the time. "Just take someone else, or give the tickets away."
I could just see the frustration growing in him, and could feel mine rising as well. "I can't just give them away, who else do you know that wants to go see a boy band!"
"Well there's Tracy, Angela-" I began ticking some of my friends off on my fingers, ignoring his splutter of indignation at my answer to his rhetorical question.
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"So how about next time, we actually try my approach, and you tell your teacher next time Mark gives someone grief?" I pursued as we finally were escorted back into a room. The nurse had just finished asking the standard questions, and yet another tissue was in place until the doctor could come in and apply the actual stitches.
"I tried that approach," he reminded me. "Mr. Akela said that unless I can prove he's doing it he can't do anything. It's my word against, like, half the class!"
"Oh, I'm sure you don't mean that! More kids then just you must have caught him." I exclaimed, thinking that he was exaggerating, again.
"Now who's being dramatic," he demanded of me.
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"You're being over dramatic Dad, again," I tried to patently set my case up, before the final bell rang. "We can just do something else on my next weekend."
"That's what you said last time," he snapped, his eyes scanning the surrounding area, his usual deterrent for when he's about to cave into me, "and the time before that. When's the last time you've actually hung out with your Danno, hu?"
My eyes flashed as the sting of that set in. Snatching up my purse in one hand and my backpack in another I snapped, "Well maybe if my Danno wasn't constantly trying to keep me away from my friends, I'd be more willing to come see him!"
I could see at once the shame cross his face as his hands began to wind up and he started, "Now Grace-"
I cut him off quickly before he could try and talk me out of it. "I am going out with my friend. I'm sorry if you don't like it. So stop treating me like such a child or I won't want come see you at all."
Before another word could be spoken, the door was slammed shut, and the bell managed to ring at the exact moment I made it to the steps.
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By the time school had let out my mood had simmered down, and I was willing to have a more reasonable talk with my father. I had been skipping a lot of my visitation with him recently, and I was most definitely out of line this morning. I would take what ever talking to I deserved, and enjoy making my father listen to a new CD a friend had just given me of the band we were going to see that night. It didn't hurt that Trevor had to move our date to next week.
Digging around in my bag for my phone, something caught my eye. I liked to think it was my fathers blood that gave me the perception to notice such things as pickup trucks parked rather out of the way. Or maybe it was the penetrating gaze of my favorite Uncle that had drawn my attention. Either way, I quickly stuffed my phone away and ran up with a huge smile. "Uncle Steve!"
However, as I approached, I couldn't help but notice the pale complexion, and the almost red look to his eyes. No, that wasn't right, Uncle Steve never cried. It just didn't happen, Dad had even made the joke that he'd had his tear ducts surgically removed as part of his training. So why were they that color now?
"Hey, where's Danno?" I called as I got closer, but stopped dead at the look that passed over his face. No. "Hey Grace, we need to talk."
"No." I whispered allowed this time.
He either didn't hear me, or ignored me as he opened the passenger door for me. For the briefest moment I considered running, because I knew that once I stepped into that vehicle, that I would never come out the same. Because what ever my Uncle's news was, it couldn't be true. It couldn't be over, not like this.
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As the doctor came in and three stitches were put into my sons face, my mind began to wander back to another time, a happier time when I could just imagine how my father would have handled this situation. A bully picking on the smaller kid would not have stood with him either. My little DJ was most definitely the reincarnation of my father, and I couldn't have been more proud.
Your interpretation of the news Steve delivered is for you to decide. Danno could have just been in a bad accident, or lived on for years to come. I hope you enjoyed all the same.