Disclaimer: See initial chapter.
A/N: There will be jumps in time, and angst.
"I understand," Danny said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
In reality, he didn't understand how HPD could spend two weeks looking for a single officer and come up empty. Though, to be fair, he, Steve (now that he was back) and Kono had been combing the area as well, and had not found a trace of their beloved co-worker either.
Hanging up the phone, he reached for the bottle of aspirin that had taken up permanent residence on his desk and palmed four of the little white pills. Unscrewing the cap of a water bottle, he tossed the pills back and drank greedily from the bottle until it was empty. He threw it across the room, narrowly missing the recycle bin, but it banked off the wall, and, wobbling precariously, landed in the bin.
"I still got it," he said, grinning and stretching.
He looked up, toward where Chin would normally be standing, and his heart sank as he realized just how much he missed the man's calming presence; the smiles that he'd send in Danny's direction throughout the course of the day. He felt a familiar pang in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Chin, and he closed his eyes, willing away the headache that had been building up behind his eyes for the past two days.
It had been a rough couple of weeks, and still, there was no word on Chin's whereabouts. Keahu Mahaku had remained firm and steadfast in his claim that a 'bitch ghost' had disappeared with Chin after he'd stabbed the man, repeatedly, intending to kill Chin and then resume what he'd been doing before he'd been imprisoned – killing women.
The man was sick, probably should've been placed in a mental institution, but Danny didn't care. He wanted him dead, wanted to shake the truth out of the man. He wanted Chin back, no matter the cost.
Steve rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, and Danny squinted at him. Though there was a smile on Steve's face, it was strained, and Danny could tell that the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Hey, Kono and I are headed out to lunch," Steve said. "I figure a change of scenery would do all of us a bit of good."
The pressure in Danny's head increased and he closed his eyes, pressed his fingertips against his temples and started massaging them. "Go ahead without me. I've got a bitch of a headache."
"I'll bring you something," Steve said, keeping his voice low.
On his way out, Steve shut off the lights, and Danny eyed the couch in his office longingly, but opted, instead, to lean back in his chair and rest his eyes. With any luck, the aspirin would kick in before Steve and Kono returned from Kamekona's shrimp truck, or wherever it was that they'd gone for lunch.
Steve had taken it upon himself to keep Kono's mind off of her missing cousin, and Danny was grateful for that. He just didn't have the energy for some reason. He didn't fully understand why he felt Chin's loss so keenly, why it felt like there was a piece of him missing.
He yawned, and his jaw cracked. He scrubbed at his cheeks, and gave into the impulse to lie down on his couch. He hadn't slept well over the past week, and the cat that Grace had dragged home had something to do with that, though Danny couldn't blame the creature entirely for his lack of good sleep, because there were also nightmares to blame.
He'd been having them nightly, since Chin had disappeared. In each and every dream, Mahaku was brandishing the knife that Danny had knocked out of his hand during their scuffle. And nightly, Danny was forced to watch from the sidelines as Mahaku plunged the knife over and over into Chin's body until they were both covered in blood.
Unable to move, or cry out, Danny's heart would hammer in his chest, and he'd struggle with whatever force it was that kept him frozen in place, but it was all for nothing. Before Chin died, before Mahaku finished his work, a bright, white light engulfed the two of them, and a beautiful woman who looked familiar, but whom Danny couldn't quite place, would whisk Chin away, leaving Danny behind.
It was then that his voice would work, and he'd scream at the woman; shout at her to bring Chin back. He'd wake sitting up in bed, skin cold and prickly with sweat, the cat staring at him from where it slept at the foot of his bed.
Try as he might, Danny couldn't get the cat to sleep anywhere else, and he blamed Grace for that, because those first couple of nights she'd been worried (and rightfully so) about the cat. Had insisted that it sleep in Danny's room, and then on his bed, so that Danny could keep an eye on it.
After one of Danny's nightmares, the cat would creep over to him, keeping its belly low to the bed. And though Danny wasn't fond of cats, he'd let the cat come to him, and he'd settle back on his pillow, trying to get the ugly images of Chin being stabbed and then swallowed up by light out of his mind.
He'd run his fingers through the cat's soft fur, and fall asleep, listening to the cat's rumbling purr. It was oddly soothing, reminiscent of Chin, and Danny would dream of the man again. His second dream was always different, much more satisfying.
Danny would dream of lying next to Chin, of kissing him, or of making love to him, and he'd wake hard and embarrassed, and have to look away from the cat, take care of himself in the shower. Afterwards, he'd feel hollow and alone, and his heart would ache for what had never been, and what might never be.
He didn't know when he'd fallen in love with Chin. Didn't even know if what he felt for Chin was love, but it certainly seemed like it. When Kono had invited him and Grace to join her and Chin that Saturday – it felt like years ago now – he'd been ecstatic, and nervous, like a school boy going on his first date. It had been ridiculous, and he must've tried on seven different outfits before deciding on the one that he'd ended up wearing. In the end, it hadn't mattered, because Chin had disappeared.
Though Danny needed to, he was hesitant to close his eyes and rest. He was afraid that, if he did, he'd have the nightmare that had been plaguing him, or, that Steve or Kono would walk in on him during one of those other types of dreams.
Neither one was preferable right now, so Danny settled for laying his arm over his eyes and letting it block out what little light seeped in through the closed blinds and the main room. He took several deep, cleansing breaths – something that Chin had taught him a couple of weeks ago when Danny had been stressing out about something he'd had no control over – and focused on something pleasant.
For Chin, it had been a lone, sandy beach, palm trees swaying in a gentle breeze, the scent of plumeria clinging to the air. For Danny, though, it was a cityscape, because that's where he felt most at home. Littered sidewalks, graffiti-covered walls, the scent of hotdogs and pizza from street vendors – all of it was calming to Danny, including the jarring sounds of horns honking and people shouting profanity.
When Danny envisioned his 'pleasant' place today; however, Chin was there with him, and they were holding hands. Chin's hand felt warm and heavy, and right, in Danny's. When he turned to look at Chin, to ask him the question that had been gnawing at his gut for the past week, Chin smiled at him, and Danny's heart skipped a beat.
"Where are you, Chin?" Danny asked, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper.
Closer than you think, said the Chin that Danny had envisioned.
"Come home," Danny said.
Chin pressed a soft kiss to Danny's cheek, squeezed his hand, and then disappeared, leaving Danny in the middle of a crowded sidewalk, the sound of honking horns making him feel ill-at-ease. Danny removed his arm from his eyes, sat up, and swung his legs down, off the couch.
It was going to be another long day, and night, and Danny feared that it would be that way for the rest of his life. At least he would be able to see Grace tonight, she'd be happy to see the progress that the cat had made. The wound on one of its front legs was almost completely healed now. They'd have a good afternoon, and evening together, and Danny could focus on something else other than the mystery of Chin's disappearance, for a few hours. It would be good for him.