Title: All For One

Summary: Kidnapping cases are always difficult, but when the victim is Danny? Stress levels just hit a whole new high.

Because there aren't enough Danny-goes-missing stories. DannyWHUMP and TeamANGST

A/N: Hi, everyone! Here's my first attempt at a story with multiple chapters. Please bear with me as I try not to screw up the plot or write myself into a dark and scary corner!

Alright, I know this chapter seems a little short, but I promise that there are longer ones in store.

I hope you all get some satisfaction from this; let me know what you think!

Here we go! Let's get this show on the road...

Disclaimer: Let it be 'duly noted' that I neither own nor claim to own any part, person, or plot line of the Hawaii Five-0 franchise.

My story is pending.

Chapter One

It was a known fact that Danny Williams liked to talk.

He liked to gesture with his arms.

He liked to be free to do what and go where he pleased.

Unfortunately, having zip-ties secured tightly around his wrists and ankles and having his mouth duct-taped shut sort of limited his abilities to do...well, anything.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny tried to rouse up his recent memories, and felt a disturbing pit settle in his stomach when he realized the last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the couch in his living room. He didn't recall any sort of break-in, or a struggle, or being taken. He didn't know what time it was, how long he had been here, or even why he was here.

This was, to say in the least, immensely disturbing.

Getting kidnapped really, really sucked.

It sucked big time.

The only good thing about his current situation was that he seemed to be unharmed. Only his right forearm throbbed a bit, probably from the drug introduced into his bloodstream by whoever had grabbed him. Where or why they had taken him remained a total mystery, one that this detective had no clue how to solve.

Sighing, Danny tried uselessly to move his arms, but the thick, plastic zip-ties were cutting off his circulation and proving to be entirely uncomfortable. Danny wondered if it would be any more comfortable if his arms were tied in front of him rather than behind. He wondered how much the duct-tape would hurt when it was ripped off.

Glancing around, Danny noted the lone naked bulb hanging from the ceiling and the concrete walls and floor. A brown, rusty drain was inlaid in the center of the space, and the temperature was frigid compared to the heat of the Hawaiian air. The room was about six by eight, and Danny hated all of it with a passion.

Cursing his predicament, Danny struggled with the zip-ties and then tried fruitlessly to spit off the duct-tape. (He knew that wouldn't work, but hey, it was worth a try.) Shuffling and rocking, he attempted to move the chair, and realized that it was fastened solidly to the ground.

Of course.

Sighing again loudly, Danny sat still in the cold air and wondered what on earth Steve could have done to get him into this mess, because undoubtedly, this was Steve's fault. The damn Neanderthal Animal gained more enemies every time a case closed than he did thanks for getting the job done. Why did they all go after Steve? He was the most threatening, that's why. Damn crazy super SEAL. Danny was definitely blaming Steve if he didn't get out of this situation alive.

But even so, he would also rely on Steve to bring up Grace with the proper fatherly guidance if he died...

God, these thoughts already? This was not okay. Nowhere near it.

I could use one of your insane escape plans right about now, Steven, thought Danny. Any second now...

But Steve and the rest of the team didn't break down the door, guns flashing. They didn't call out, "Five-0! Let Detective Williams go!" or anything of the sort.

For now, Danny was completely on his own.

He wondered how long he'd been out.

He wondered if anyone knew he was gone.

He wondered if he would remain uninjured for long.

Echoing in the distance, the unmistakable sound of several footfalls reached Danny's ears.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and chalky.

I guess I'm about to find out.

Danny wasn't answering his phone, and that didn't sit well with Steve. Normally, Danny would pick up on the first ring and begin to rant about one thing or another. But this time, the phone went to voicemail.

Steve tried the line thrice more before finally giving up with a frustrated huff.

Who knew? Maybe Danny had overslept. Maybe his phone battery had died. Maybe, for once in his life, he just didn't feel like talking...or he was unable to do so...

Steve felt a heavy ball of worry settle in his stomach and, with a wrench of the wheel, whirled the Silverado around. As he sped down the highway, making use of his ultimate immunity, he dialed Danny's number yet again. And yet again, Danny failed to answer.

"Shit," he hissed, slamming the phone down.

Steve drove faster.

Five minutes later, he pulled up in front of Danny's house with screeching tires. Quickly, Steve took in the sight: the Camero was still in the driveway. The house was dark and perfectly quiet. But something was off. Glancing around stealthily, Steve slid out of the Silverado and approached the front door, a cautious hand on his holster. No one seemed to be around, but honestly, you just never knew...

Eyes widening, Steve noticed that the door was partly open. The wood around the lock was splintered; someone had obviously broken in.

Not good. Not good at all.

Painfully aware of the situation, Steve pulled his gun and slowly pushed open the door. It swung silently on well-oiled hinges. With laser-like intensity, Steve scanned the first room and, seeing no one, advanced into the house. He checked every room with extreme caution and purpose, and found nothing.

All clear.

Placing his gun back in his holster, Steve focused on searching for signs of Danny. He walked through to the living room and noticed that the coffee table was empty, but paperwork was spread everywhere throughout the room. Upon closer examination, he found that a small lamp had been knocked behind the couch and that a picture had fallen onto the hardwood floor.

Making sure he had gloves on, Steve reached down and carefully, ever so gently, turned it over.

There was blood smeared on the right corner. Small fragments of broken glass sprinkled onto the floor, spiderweb cracks distorting the image.

Grace.

Grace's school picture; Danny had had it framed last week and treasured it greatly.

There was no way in hell that, if he'd seen it fall or accidentally knocked it down, he would simply leave it there.

No. Something sinister had happened, if the blood on the frame was anything to go by. Danny was definitely in trouble, and Steve's whole being buzzed in fear and a desire for action.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Hey, Steve," Chin Ho Kelly immediately answered. "What's going on?"

"Chin, listen," said Steve, getting right down to business. This required instant attention. "Look, I need HPD down at Danny's house ASAP. I need you, Kono and Catherine, bring Max as well and make sure Fong comes with the crime lab truck. I need all hands on deck. Danny's house, now!" Firing off demands any faster would have been impossible.

"Steve, what the hell is going on?" Chin demanded, alarmed. "What happened?"

Steve worked his jaw, then answered with dead serious concern.

"Danny's missing."

To Be Continued...

P.S. Uh oh...what are they gonna do?

I'd love to hear your thoughts!

I'll be posting more in a day or two...