Pohā
Steve blinked dazedly as he slowly recovered from the hard impact.
The first thing Steve noted almost instantly was the headache that lingered beneath his skull and would not go away, no matter how Steve wanted and willed it to go away. Sluggishly his pupils focused again and the grey haze and blurriness gradually dissipated and Steve could see his surroundings more clearly. Although there was not much to see except for a shattered windshield and some deserted road in the middle of O'ahu, trees were lining the road but other than that Steve was unable to see anything else.
The pain was dull but it was there.
Instinctively, Steve touched his forehead, sure enough his hands came back covered in blood. He frowned for a second. This was weird.
How the hell had he gotten that head laceration in the first place. Where the hell was he?
A deserted road, he realized.
Steve was far off from the main highway, he was supposed to drive down the Kamehameha Highway. But this road? This was just a smaller one, which begs the question what he is doing way up here, alone.
Without Danny, his best friend and partner.
Confused, Steve McGarrett glanced at the surrounding area, maybe there was something that would provide him with a clue of where he was. A sharp pain jolted through his chest as he breathed in deeply, more tried to do so.
"Crap." Steve muttered as he remembered that he had taken Danny's car to run down a lead while Danny had to do something. Damn it, he had crashed the Camaro. Steve's eyes rapidly traveled from on side to another, trying to figure out what had happened and where he was. As he moved his head the interior of the wrecked Camaro spun sickeningly aound him, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut to protect them from the overwhelming feeling of dizziness.
Maybe his head injury was more severe than he'd previously thought. Then Steve's thoughts wandered back to Danny, all the while his world slipped in and out of focus.
Danny loves that car.
Steve knew that.
But there was nothing he could do to change that now could he?
One thing was for sure, the Jersey detective would not be amused by him wrecking the Camaro, would not like what happened. Steve let out a chuckle, he'd probably get a grade A Danno- rant, telling him how he wrecked the Camaro, how much he liked that car, that Steve is indeed a trouble magnet and that trouble follows him.
He took a deep breath, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in chest, the pain lacing out across his chest, with every breath he took. Breathing was not supposed to be this painful, Steve's brain sluggishly registered.
Supposably he had broken some ribs, or at least cracked.
He had a headache that was persisting ever since, actually had no idea of when it started but he was positive that it had started after the crash, it was very likely, as his overall crappy situation, intensified suddenly. Steve had not been prepared for it. Flinching he let out a groan, not at all caring about anyone noticing.
Here was no one.
Steve was alone on this road.
To make things worse his stomach had also begun to hurt.
When moved he could feel his ribs throb. Rib fractures? Check. Groaning and shifting uncomfortably, Steve pressed a hand against his abdomen, hoping it would feel soft and not rigid. Anything other than that could point to internal bleeding. Sluggishly the injured man leaned his head against headrest.
Out of a sudden he felt himself growing tired, closed his eyes, blocked out the pain and his awesome situation.
Steve found it harder and harder to stay conscious.
His head was continually pounding against his skull, the ringing in his ears was definitely nerve- wrecking, it was obvious he had sustained some degree of traumatic brain injury.
Stay awake.
Subconsciously, the SEAL knew he should but this was just too hard, but when had staying conscious ever been such a problem?
Steve had no idea.
It was hard to think. It makes his head hurt even worse.
What the hell happened to me?
However, the increasing nausea and tiredness was debilitating and clouding judgment. Steve blinked to clear his vision as the world once again shifted alarmingly to the side.
He had to get help.
For him. Steve was aware that he had to do something.
Just move.
That is what he told himself.
Get moving, find a way out of this and call for help. You can do this, Steve, you're a Navy fricking SEAL.
Steve let out a small grin despite the unrelenting headache among other things he had yet to find out.
Come on, I just told you, you stubborn Neanderthal animal. Get out.
Move.
Whoa, that sounded like Danny. Steve frowned. Why did the voice in his head sound like Danny? Because he was pretty sure that the feisty Jersey detective wasn't in the car with him despite him driving Danny's Camaro.
But he was not here.
Steve, you need to move. You can do this.
"I am fine," Steve insisted, swallowing against the nausea rising in his throat.
You're everything but, babe.
A voice in his head told him, surprisingly, the sound of it reminded him of a person he knew and loves dearly.
Danny.
Utterly confused, Steve begins to look around, search for an exit strategy.
But that was proving to be very difficult as he was pinned down in his car that was not in its normal position. Probably he'd be stuck here until rescue arrived and cut him out. Steve feared that fire services would have to cut him from the car but the whole extrication from the, damaged beyond repair, car would only happen if he was able to call for help.
Taking a deep breath and quickly regretting it after the pain shot through his chest. Steve had momentarily forgotten about his injured ribs.
Danny.
His phone. He knew it must have been here somewhere, all he had to do was find it, and speed-dial Danny.
Danny would locate him, send rescue his way.
Steve closed his eyes as a new wave of pain overcame him.
Breathing had also gotten a lot more painful than it had been before, damn car crash, why had it had to happen to him?!
Call Danny. That was now the mission objective.
So that he can have that weekend with Gracie and Danno. All he had to do was await rescue and stay alive until he was found. It is definitely easier said than done. Another thing that did not help him in any way was the fact that he was not on one of the main roads on this island. Because if he was chances are that someone already called it in. But now, his car crashed while driving on a side road, a road rarely used.
He had been looking forward to spending time with Danny and Gracie. Steve loves having them over.
He had made plans: Go take Danny and Grace out for some shave ice at Waiola Shave Ice, maybe make a trip to take Grace and Danny to see the Hālona Blowhole, spend the evening at the Hilton or just at his place for a barbeque with Chin and Kono. After what happened which him, and the resulting the car wreck, the actual possibility of his planned activities actually taking place as Steve had planned was low and chances were getting lower by the minute.
Steve just hoped that he'd still be alive by then.
That Danny wouldn't have to lose him too. But hell, Steve decided right there that he was going to fight and continue to do so.
Steve sighed tiredly, leaning his head against the headrest.
The sigh promptly resulted in a wet cough.
Steve tried to suppress it but wasn't very successful. The cough aggravated his chest injury and the pain resulting from the coughing almost caused him to pass out. Black spots danced in his vision and slowly but steadily he slipped into nothingness.
I'm sorry, Danny. That was his last conscious thought before all of his surroundings greyed out.
Then there was nothing.
Only a car, turned sideways on a slippery side road. One man inside, unmoving.
No one knows what had happened.
H50 H50 H50 H50
Birds were chirping, it was the first thing that Steve noticed as he fought his way back to consciousness.
As soon as he rose to consciousness he instantly felt the pressure on his chest, the pain around his abdominal area but the most prominent was still the constant pressure and aching in his head. He didn't want to open his eyes because the SEAL was sure that it would hurt his eyes. At the very least, he had suffered a concussion and internal injuries. The commander was trapped between the seat and the dashboard. He blinked before attempting to open his eyes.
At first everything was a blurry mess.
He was obviously hurt and if Danny knew what Steve had done to Danny's precious Camaro, he would flip. Steve was almost sure of it. If only his head stopped hurting he would be able to think. But the situation sucks anyways, and that big time.
Steve fumbled with his seatbelt as he tried unbuckling himself.
He failed.
Due to the increased movement, his head had started hurting even worse. Pinched, Steve reached for his phone. It had to be here somewhere. Somewhere.
His heart started racing in his chest.
Simultaneously, he could feel something, hard, a cell maybe, beneath his fingers.
Steve's breaths came out fast as he slipped his fingers around the cool surface of his cell.
But then again, Danny would know that something was up if he was only met with silence.
So all he actually had to do was dial.
Danny would help him.
Tiredly, Steve blinked to clear to fuzziness that was clouding his line of sight. As he glanced around he could see that the Camaro was pretty much destroyed. Only now he realized that he was on his side. His side was crushed against the road. The car had flipped. He doesn't remember the actual crash. Just ... a loud bang and pain, pain was instant and blackness had followed shortly thereafter.
How come he hadn't noticed.
Noisily, Steve drew in much- needed oxygen as he felt his lungs constrict painfully. It has gotten harder to inhale and exhale. Steve pulled all his strength together to unbuckle his seatbelt, the one keeping him restrained.
It was hindering his ability to breathe.
Steven, you need to call for help. You know it. No one knows where you are.
Swallowing thickly while ignoring the incessant pounding of his head, Steve attempting to reach his phone, fighting off a sudden bout of dizziness and disorientation. You have to find that phone, Steve, inner- Danny reminded him. Steve knew that he was hurt and needed help. A phone meant help provided there was a signal. Otherwise the phone would be of no use. It became increasingly harder for the Navy SEAL to stay alert, however, Steve knew that if he passed out now, Steve would not be able to make the call to Danny.
Blindly, he speed- dialed Danny, hoping, no, knowing that he would answer.