I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Bored, bored, bored (at work that is and anxiously awaiting a second interview after the holiday at a new opportunity). And I love me some amnesiac Danny and worried Steve.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Chapter One
It was blistering hot on the roof. Stripped to his waist, he had wrapped his shirt around his head to block some of the unrelenting sun and heat. Heavily bearded, he was very tan yet sweating profusely and it stung through the last of the deep stubborn scab that was traced deeply across his ribcage. The scar would arc down from his shoulder-blade, wrap under his arm and then would continue to the front of his lowest left rib. The gouge deepened and widened as it approached that rib causing a deep hot ache that refused to be alleviated by any means.
He palmed his forehead hard where another dull ache seemed to suddenly appear. A dark vision swam threateningly behind his eyes and he pushed it down firmly. "Who the hell are you?" He muttered to the remembered dark silhouette who was coming more and more often not only in his dreams, but even now when he was wide awake. His vision dimmed and he saw the man again and swore softly to himself. "Get out of my head."
Blaming it on the heat, he also pushed away the first tendrils of nausea and focused on the task at hand. Hammer in one hand and nails in the other, he drilled a few more loose roof planks into the flimsy frame before needing to take another short break.
With a disgusted sigh, he shaded his eyes to look out at the sparkling ocean through the brilliance of the sun. He was up high and had an unobstructed birds-eye view. He needed sunglasses or a hat, but he was either too lazy or too busy to bother getting off the roof when he had only what would amount to thirty more minutes of work. Plus he knew that if he managed the trip down the flimsy ladder, it was doubtful he'd make that return climb back up to the roof.
"Better to do it now." He mumbled tiredly now almost worried by his growing inability to catch his breath. The t-shirt on his head would have to do but he winced as his knee seized unexpectedly. Another scar, this one older, traced his knee cap. Expertly done, at one time he'd obviously gone to a surgeon for some other ailment now long healed but sometimes problematic if he knelt too long or if bad weather might be on its way.
This time both scenarios were true.
In the distance, dark ominous clouds were gathering on the far horizon. As Peka said, the storms would come by late tomorrow morning and they needed the last of the worrisome roof patched before the first drops of rain would arrive. But Will was very tired as he continually pushed himself to regain stamina that was slow to return. He knew that Peka's older cousin, Trudy, saw that in him too for she was as insightful as a hawk.
On the ground below him, Will sensed the heavy-set woman staring up at him. As usual, she appeared out of nowhere with her sharp, judgmental eye. Thumbing a sharp pain near the scar on his knee, Will refused to look at her as he refocused his hammer on an obstinate nail.
There was no television, radio or formal newspapers in their small fishing village along a remote portion of the Nihau coastline. With a family-like population that barely numbered twenty-five, they had no need except for the one or two privately held weather radios. If they wanted more, they could easily walk to town where only a slightly more civil environment waited. But that need was rare and they lived happily enough amongst themselves from hand to mouth.
Since Will could recall being in the village, there had been some very minor change in what could be a boring day-to-day ritual. Once or twice a week, a few villagers would be asked to host rich tourists seeking game fish off the rough reef waters. The money was good and tips were appreciated. The money was pooled for food, necessities and sometimes luxury items for the few children. Will wanted to help. But both Peka and Trudy declared him too weak to volunteer always ushering him away when an expensive boat docked and well-dressed tourists disembarked.
Not so deeply buried, Will was relieved to not participate. Weak or otherwise, he was honestly not naturally drawn to the ocean or the boats. Both made him tight with stress and a feeling of discomfort that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Fishing held little appeal from land or at sea, though he would have liked to possibly visit or speak to the occasional guests for any kind of news or diversion. He had mentioned it a week earlier when three mainlanders arrived with expensive poles in hand, but Peka would have nothing to do with it.
"No, Will. Please, don't go down to the docks.' Her perceived fear for him was real because evidently such a fishing accident was where Will had been so grievously injured. In fact, Peka's husband had been killed in the same accident which Will had been in. He had drowned saving Will and he had left Peka and their small son to survive on their own by scraping by on a much too meager living. The boy was now five months old and Will enjoyed the stout dark-complexioned child as if he were his own. Lately though, Will had gotten an odd feeling even when around baby Aaron. There was a lingering familiarity about himself and another baby which was blonde where this one was so dark. But a baby was a baby and yet, he couldn't shake the strange feeling. Regardless, the tale of the accident also left him with a sense of guilt and responsibility towards the two, and Will did his best to contribute and care for the young widow and her fatherless son.
Try as he might, Will didn't remember it at all though. Nothing was familiar except for niggling premonitions he was becoming unable to shake. Based on the deep crease just under the hair on his temple, plus the problematic wound on his ribs, in a way he was happy not to remember at least what had to have been a terrible accident. He began to attribute the ocean's lackluster appeal as an after-effect of the accident; something his psyche and then Peka's fright compounded. So Will easily agreed to stay in the small, rundown two-bedroom shack of a home without venturing to the docks.
What he did remember came at night when he was sleeping. Or now, during the day if feeling over-tired or taking an exhausted nap where he might toss and turn, often waking drenched in sweat. The tall, dark-haired man would be nearby and soundlessly staring at him with concern. A scent of the ocean always came with the visitor and sometimes distant reports of gunfire. Will would waken as the man held his hand out to him as if pleading Will to take a firm hold. Half wanting to and partially frightened by the flicker of gold the stranger held in the other hand, Will would wake to a thudding heart searching the small space for the intruder.
"Will!' Lost in his thoughts about his persistent ghost, he looked down with a start as the older matronly woman tossed a water bottle in her hands. "Catch, crazy haole!"
"Thank you, Trudy." He laughed and waited for her to count to three before cleanly lobbing the bottle into the air. The toss was graceful, as was his easy catch. He didn't exactly fit either in this small hodge-podge of a fishing village. Every so often it bothered him though Peka had gently explained time and again how he had come to them after a tour in the Army. It didn't sound right and often felt wrong, but her dark eyes held his gaze with an intensity that made him believe her explanation. With nothing else to go on, he grudgingly trusted Peka's words.
According to Peka, he had been to Iraq and he had come to them over a year ago wanting a more simple life. She swore she was only repeating what he had told her so long ago. In their gracious nature, the small fishing community had adopted him and he had become good friends with Peka's own husband. He didn't remember that either and it was strange to him that he would seek refuge on an island when he felt no kinship to the sparkling deep ocean. Odd that an accident on the unfamiliar waters had taken his memory and not something from his stint in the Army.
What felt more right was the silhouette of the dark-haired man, occasional flitting sounds of gunfire, plus a different seeming ocean his presence conjured with it. He attributed these things to the supposed tour of duty in Iraq. He could not place the importance of water though in the mix and Peka knew much about him, but offered no solace there.
"Will, watch that scar. It's not healing well and getting much too red; hurry up and come down." Bending his white-blonde head, Will frowned at the puckering wound. He was told that it had happened on the boats while fishing. Mostly healed, it was sensitive to the bright sun, hot to the touch even in the dark of night, and constantly sore where the rest of his body was well tanned.
It itched and sometimes bothered him so much, that Trudy was always poking and investigating it. She feared it was infected and said as much nearly very hour of every day.
Will had spurts of energy and then periods where he felt simply miserable. Tired feverish and sometimes nauseous, he couldn't seem to regain all of his health. Like now, as a wave of dizziness washed over him and a cold sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead. Trudy saw him waver or saw the expression alter on his face almost immediately.
"Will, are you okay? Maybe you should stop and come down now."
"I'm fine .. I'm almost done." He waved her off after downing nearly half the bottle in one long swallow. Below him, Peka had snuck out to talk to her cousin. Very softly, Trudy whispered the truth and Peka felt only a momentary stab of anger and jealousy. But those feelings were quickly fading though along with the guilt.
"You can't keep him forever, cuz. You got your money." The baby on her hip gurgled and then howled. The boy wasn't Will's child but he needed a father and Will was loving and doting. She ignored the distant look on his face which he was adopting more and more often when he played with the baby. She didn't understand why her child might be the final trigger, but she feared that little Aaron might one day bring Will back his full memory.
But now .. well, Peka loved him and he was hers for the moment. At least that is what she told herself over and over despite the lies she had at first been coached to say. Now, she made the remainder up herself which caused her cousin to be both angry and frightened. "Peka, this is dangerous and very wrong."
"For now, Will is here … and no one knows. I need him and he's mine. Keep your mouth shut, Trudy."
"The people that paid you are gone. They got what they wanted, we did what they asked, and we should all count our blessings. He will find out or remember, and then what? Do you want to risk him hating you for the rest of your life?" In reality, Will had been there for only four months and not the nearly eighteen month block of time he'd been led to believe. Iraq was a lie and his tour of duty had been totally contrived by the desperate woman who continually convinced herself that she loved the blonde mainlander.
As agreed, Will had been brought to her in the dead of night by boat. Unconscious and bleeding from his wounds, Peka had enlisted Trudy to help nurse him back to a negligible health. Feverish and in pain, he didn't know his name or what had happened once he'd roused more and Peka had taken advantage of that loss immediately. Having just lost her husband to a bad fishing accident, she was distraught, desperate and her young son was only one month old. As with the two strangers who brought not only him but a great deal of money to buy her silence, having Will became another type of opportunity and she grabbed him with both hands.
Dedicated to the distraction of caring for the stranger and needing the money, Peka coached the name ''William'' out of him and he'd seemed content that was his nearly right. She still remembered the oddly whispered conversation for he had been much more ill than even now.
"William. Maybe." Will had muttered as his eyes sought hers out as if for approval.
"I should call you Will, then?" She had encouraged, happy when he nodded to agree.
"Yeah. Will. My name is Will."
Very debilitated from his injuries, Peka had begun to protect him for herself after that. When the two men had returned with guns either to kill or to reclaim him, she lied daringly to them. Fearful to protect what she was building with Will, she begged Trudy to help and they had hidden him in a cave swearing that the haole had died from his injuries.
She showed the two dangerous men her own husband's sad grave marker and lied more. She begged forgiveness for not being able to save the haole's life, but without medical supplies, she couldn't do the impossible. Oddly, they were pleased, paid her the remainder of the promised deposit regardless of the blonde haole's death, and left the tiny fishing village. That had been months ago. Then she lied to Will as he grew more strong; and each time those lies became easier.
The community was small and everyone liked him. He was no trouble and had brought Peka money and some stability. Her money had been shared amongst them and they were happy with new boats and sturdy nets. Soon, they had forgotten their original mistrust and anger, and they forgot about the dangerous men. With Trudy and Peka's help, Will had slowly accustomed himself to life there and to each and every lie he'd been spoonfed. But it could last just so long.
"He believes he was in the war. He believes the fishing accident and your roof is getting patched. What more do you want." Peka shielded her own eyes from the glare as she looked up at the handsome mainlander. He was thin, almost too gaunt and had lost muscle over the last four months but she would change that as he healed and gained strength from fever and weakness treated with only the barest of medical supplies. He seemed resolute in that himself as she watched him finish the water bottle.
He was slow to regain health though and that worried both herself and Trudy. He had bouts of fever and weakness; often laying down and sleeping hours only to waken as tired as he was before. She could tell he was dragging now as he paused too often and shakily wiped sweat from his face.
"He's still not well." Peka complained. "No matter what we do, he does not get better. But he needs to stay here where it's safe. What better place is there since he is so very happy?" She was torn and vacillated between wanting him to desperately stay with her, and yet a fear that he would become so ill that she would lose him a different way.
"He's happy here." Peka repeated while kissing her son's tousled hair when Trudy snorted in derision.
"Those are your lies, cousin. He believes almost everything you say and one day, you will not be able to live with yourself because of his blind trust. But I am not so sure of that contentment." Peka knew that she was deluding herself and that her cousin was right. Will often seemed more distant of late. He was less engaged and spent hours off by himself in deep thought.
It would only take one trigger, one smell or memory. One rich visitor that would question the obviously out-of-place haole and it would all surface and be over. But until that happened, Peka could be content.
"It's time for the truth, Peka." Trudy had begun to push the fact hard since Will's health was not improving and Peka felt her anger rising. "And he's much too sick now."
She rocked her son and tried to imagine life without Will. She grinned as he wiped sweat from his face and waggled his fingers at the baby. Her son had been one month old when Will was delivered to them. Now he was a sturdy five months and he fisted his chubby hand and gurgled happily back at the blonde man who was so different from everyone else.
"We don't even know the truth ourselves." Peka retorted quietly. "Suppose someone still wants to hurt or even kill him? He's a good man and safer with us here. Bad things could happen if the wrong people find out that he is really alive."
"That could be true. But you know that he was abducted and those men that paid you were bad news. Just suppose he has a family who still searches night and day for him. How is that right or fair to him ... or to them?"
The two bickered quietly back and forth until Will painfully straightened and shakily made his way down the hand hewn ladder. "Lie down." Trudy demanded when she saw his exhausted face and severe tremble to his hands. He was weak and he constantly pushed himself as if he was looking for more. As if he had lost something dear.
"Will, you do too much." Placing her hands on his shoulders, she tsked about the heat they held as she turned and propelled him inside to the shady interior. "Lie down, Will. I'm going to put aloe and medicine on that scar and you are going to rest."
Tugging on his beard, he suddenly wanted it off and he smiled as Trudy grinned back in understanding. His blue eyes crinkled and sparkled which brightened his whole expression despite the fatigue. Peka was very right about the handsome haole and Trudy feared for his safety in case bad men still wanted him dead. Uncertain about what to do when it came to the difficult questions, she pushed her earlier thoughts to the back of her mind. She could at least do more for him now as he stood swaying unsteadily in front of her.
He was over-heated, tired and had once gain done too much in his condition. She nodded before he could finish his request. "Can we get this off too?"
Shaving supplies were scarce and they'd been originally instructed to keep their guest hidden. Now, feeling it safe at least on their tiny section of the island, Trudy agreed. No one came or looked for him and he was mostly at ease though he stared often at the ocean as if confused by its very existence. She knew it wasn't familiar to him and while he could swim well, he was not at home in a boat and showed no desire to fish. He was better on land fixing things with his bare hands such as a damaged roof or broken fence.
It was much too hot for such a beard as his and oddly, Will never asked for much and Trudy was pleased to offer him such a basic favor. "Yes, Will. I'll do it for you ... A real treat for fixing our roof so well and then, I want you to lay down and sleep."
Trudy's voice faded for a moment as Will's vision waffled and tunneled. He felt her pudgy fingers gripping his shoulders even more tightly and his throat was thick as he tried to speak. Will coughed and winced as he blinked rapidly to clear his vision while the older woman lay the back of her hand to his cheeks and forehead. "No. It's okay. I'm just hot from the sun, Trudy."
She didn't believe him and he missed the worried look shared between the two women.
Hours later, the somewhat clean-shaven Will was sleeping soundly on the small cot in Trudy and Peka's humble home. Trudy had acted without his permission to battle the rising discomfort of both his head and fevered body and so, had sneaked an herbal sedative and pain medication into his tea. She had done that after insisting he eat a meal of white rice and chicken.
He was definitely becoming more ill and what he needed was outside her realm of expertise. Changing her mind again, Trudy knew they had no choice but to help him. "His wound is not healing and it's become infected. He needs a hospital and real antibiotics."
Trudy had tried to clean the wound, but the reddened area was swollen, painful and oozing now. "Peka, we have to take him to a hospital or he will die.
Peka watched Will sleep before gently laying a light blanket over his chest. She liked the way he looked without the overwhelming scruff of beard. Still tanned, he looked even younger and she could more easily see where he - no they - had hit his head so badly. She cared and was sure now that he'd been abducted much against his will. The play on words made her smile gently. It frustrated her, but Trudy was right that his family would want to know he was safe and they were at a loss to truly help him.
The winds were increasing and the real storm would arrive by the later hours of the next morning which provided them with a limited window of time. She knew two skilled fishermen that would willingly take them to the hospital on one of their newest and most reliable boats. It felt wrong that Will should be taken on a boat purchased with his own blood money, but they had no choice.
She frowned as her hand skittered across his chest again. He was much warmer than he should be and on her knees now, Peka felt his cheeks and forehead with both hands.
"Trudy. He's very sick and you need to do something for him. Anything." She pleaded with her cousin one last time even though she knew what the answer would be. Whether it be from exertion or the scabby problematic wound, Will was once more feverish and his agitation grew in his sleep. This time, Peka was frightened. Trudy knelt across from her and nodded in agreement to offer her cousin strength.
"I can't do anything for him. We must take him to where he can get real medical help."
Hoping that he might, Peka offered one last vain attempt at keeping him and Trudy frowned. "What if he refuses to go?"
Disappointing her cousin, Trudy was definitive as she lay a cold cloth across Will's forehead. "We won't let him."
~ to be continued ~