So far, this deadline-thing is working. :) Thank you guys for the reviews, story-alters, story-favorites, etc. Let me know what you think.
Danny felt an ounce of relief wash over his frame as he put the car into park and turned the key. His engine was reduced to silence in seconds. Holding the key limp in his hand, Danny closed his eyes. It was quiet, save for the eerie sounds the wind made. More importantly, as far as Danny's exhaustion was concerned, it was dark. The porch lights on the apartment building, weak with age and incompetence, were the only weapons against the soothing darkness that encased Hawaii. It was tempting to just remain in his car—to use his seat as a bed and fall asleep.
Groaning, Danny opened his car door and exited the vehicle. Out of habit he observed his surroundings, his aching limbs furious that he wasn't hurrying off to bed. It was embarrassing how out of shape he seemed to have gotten. He knew that when he stopped working out it would have its consequences, but he never expected a medial job like "Snow Cone Mascot" would make him so sore. He used to be a cop—a cop. He used to do somersaults, dives, some hand-to-hand combat once in a while, and much more. Now….
Not seeing any potential threats, Danny turned and walked up the stairs to his floor.
This was all Kamekona's fault, really. He overworked him his first day on the job. While Danny was grateful that Chin's former criminal consultant was willing to help him out, the man was, quite frankly, insane. He had Danny work until ten o'clock at night, claiming there would still be plenty of customers to advertise to. In a way, Kamekona had been right—if anyone could consider drugged-up freaks gawking at his costume "customers."
He stopped at his door. As quietly as he could, Danny inserted his key into the lock and turned. The soft click that emanated from the doorknob seemed to shriek at his very presence, as if wanting to announce his location to the entire block. It made Danny cringe. The last thing he wanted was Chin and Kono to witness his late-entrance. It would bring about many questions that Danny was too tired to answer cautiously. He would talk with them in the morning about his day, but, at the moment, he just wanted to get into his bed and fall unconscious.
Opening the door, Danny discovered his apartment to be almost completely dark. A white light, blocked by a mysterious figure, was pouring out of the refrigerator in his kitchen. The mysterious figure, either ignoring his presence or ignorant of it, searched through the fridge's contents as quietly as he/she could. Danny, deducting that it was either Chin or Kono, very quietly snuck across the room. Luckily, his bedroom door was slightly ajar, so he snaked his way into his room without making the smallest of noises.
He sighed out a silent breath, cherishing the sense of security he felt being in his own domain. The refrigerator light having compromised his vision, he now walked in his bedroom totally blind. Danny headed towards where he knew his bed was located. Feeling too exhausted to even think about changing into something more comfortable, he reached down towards his comforter with the intention of pulling it up and snugging himself beneath it. He did not expect his hand to meet a human chest.
Panic and instinct barely registered in his brain when he felt a harsh blow to his gut and his arm being twisted around behind his back. Then, with a jarring swiftness, the front half of his body was flattened against his rough carpet. His shouts and curses, though fairly muffled by the carpet, were still loud enough to bring three sets of footsteps hurrying towards his room. Danny, struggling beneath a heavy pressure above him, was relieved when the light was turned on, despite the pain it brought to his adjusting eyes.
"Steve!"
Relief quickly evaporated from his being, leaving roaring anger in its wake.
"Steve! Get off him! It's Danny!"
The pressure on his back disappeared, allowing Danny's sore muscles to lift him up. His eyes still stinging from the unfamiliar brightness of the light, Danny couldn't see properly as he snarled, "What are you doing?"
"Danny," Kono said from somewhere by his door. The blonde kept scrubbing his eyes with his hands, his ears listening intently as Kono continued with the ever famous phrase, "I can explain."
He almost laughed then.
"Oh, of course you can because, when insanity strikes, Kono is there to explain everything!"
Danny stood, his vision no longer as compromised as it had been before. He glared at Kono, black splotches dancing around inside his eyes, and waved his hands about with frenzied anger.
"Let me guess, Saint Kono and Pastor Chin. You two found it in your financially broke souls to donate my room in my apartment to this maniac!"
Danny didn't notice Mary wince, let alone her presence as all, as he abruptly turned to Steve.
"And what decent human being attacks someone out of the blue like that? What's the matter with you? You could have killed me!"
Steve had the courtesy to look guilty, but Danny refused to be swayed into being some doting caretaker to this mental patient like Kono and Chin clearly had.
"Danny—"
"No, I don't think so, Kelly," Danny barked at his ex-partner, "You don't get to be the rational one in this insanity when, I'm sure, it's all your fault!"
Chin made a notable frown, confirming what Danny already knowing to be true, but remained calm and impassive nonetheless. Ironically, it added to Danny's anger.
"Unbelievable. This—THIS," Danny shouted, motioning about his entire bedroom (aka: the scene of the crime), "is what I get for being a good person. You people—and this entire island—are sucking my very soul out of my body. You're all clinically insane! Did it ever occur to any of you that, this being my apartment and all, that you would need to, say, ask my permission before you invited superman over here for a sleepover? No? I guess not! Clearly, I'm not respected enough to get a say in any of your wise and intelligent decision-making, even though it is my sleeping arrangements on the line! And my money! And my livelihood! And, what else? Oh yeah, MY LIFE!"
By the end of his rant, Danny's eyes met Mary's for one second. Then he quickly shifted his angry gaze to Chin. Though he could already feel the emotion churning under his heart, he refused to feel guilty about this. He was in the right. Mary's glassy eyes, sad enough to break a rock's heart, would not deter him off his course. Besides, he was too drained to emotionally deal with her presence.
"You know what, get out," Danny said, pushing the air with his hands as if he were pushing them, "Just get out."
Chin and Kono hesitated, but complied with cautious steps as they gently herded Mary away from the door. Steve was making his own cautious way to the door when Danny's firm hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"You stay."
Steve turned to look at him, but Danny was already walking in front of him, slamming his bedroom door shut. He then spun around and stared Steve down.
"Get in the bed," Danny ordered, making the effort to point at the bed in question.
Steve blinked.
"Wha—?"
"Get in the bed, or I'll show you how it feels to be punched in the stomach."
It was annoying how unaffected Steve was to his threat. Danny tried to glare to make his statement more sincere, but the maniac simply blinked at him as if he were the mental one. Unfortunately, despite everything, Danny couldn't help but believe that to be true. Regardless, he refused to be ignored in his own apartment, let alone disrespected. He pointed at the bed again.
"Hey, I'm—"
"Bed, McGarrett," Danny interrupted, his voice cold and unwavering.
"Why?"
Danny sighed, his shoulders slumping lower towards the ground, making it seem like his entire body was beginning to deflate. He was so tired—tired of fighting; tired of trying. Why was he even bothering with this guy? With all of the people in his apartment? Danny wasn't sure anymore, and, in that instance, he was a little surprised to find he didn't really care.
"Because you wouldn't be in here if you didn't need my bed. Grace's bed is tiny, the couch is stiff, and you're all…" Danny waved his hand at him, as if that would say more than actual words could, "I'll sleep on the floor. You take my bed."
Steve remained rooted to where he stood. Rather than argue with a man standing so rigid that he could be mistaken for some kind of flesh-statue, Danny trudged over to his bed. He yanked off the comforter, grabbed one of his extra pillows, and then trudged over to the opposite side of the room.
"I don't care what you do," Danny grumbled, dropping the pillow and comforter to the ground before allowing himself to fall on top of them. The hard surface jabbed pain into various points of his body, but he snuggled deep into his pillow as if it were soft, unbreakable cloud, "Just don't touch me, don't talk to me—don't talk at all, really. Just…be still and…quiet."
Even with the light on, darkness was immediate to invade Danny's conscious mind once he closed his eyes. His ears were barely present in the waking world, but they managed to make out the muffled sounds of someone walking to the door, turning off the lights, and then walking to the bed.
*.*.*.*
"You think he's okay?" Mary asked, her voice matching the timid stiffness of her face.
"I don't hear any yelling," Kono said after a quiet moment.
Chin let out a silent breath. He felt emotionally mute, as if his growing shame was somehow clogging up his throat. His guilt for what he put Danny through the past year had never gone away, but it became easier to overlook with each generous gesture his ex-partner gave him. Chin felt a false sense of redemption from those gestures—those gifts—instead of the pity and concern that they were always founded on. He got so comfortable living off of Danny's strength that he hadn't even fully realized just how much he was taking advantage of his best friend. Guilt didn't even begin to describe what he was feeling. Still, there was something else bothering Chin and keeping him in silent thought. It was hard to identify it, seeing as it so cleverly hid behind the shame that seeped into his organs like acid, but Chin could certainly tell that it was there, whatever it was.
"Don't worry. Danny would never hurt an injured person," Kono said, scooting over on the couch to sit closer to Mary, "And even if he would, Steve can clearly take care of himself, with or without memory."
Mary smiled at that.
"Where do you think Danny was all day?" Chin asked, straightening his posture subconsciously at his voiced thought.
"What?" Kono said, tilting her head towards her cousin.
"Where did Danny go today?" Chin asked.
"I don't know. He did get back pretty late though," Kono said, understanding Chin's silent implications, "You going to talk to him tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Chin said, relaxing his posture once more as he studied the ground. Overlooking the emotional gazes that Kono and Mary were pointing at him, he delved deeper into his own guilt and his own sense of responsibility, "I just hope he talks back."
*.*.*.*
Hours later….
A raw terror shook through his bones. That was the first thing he was aware of as he snapped his eyes open and released a breathy gasp. His heart was hammering within his chest, as if desperately trying to escape the fear that held it in a sharp, excruciating grip. The sweat on his brow did its job in cooling his hot face, but the rest of his body felt like it was containing boiling blood. He sucked at air with panic, his eyes staring into blackness and his mind trying to comprehend what was happening—what had happened.
"You okay?"
The voice had Steve jumping up into a sitting position. He let out a gasp as pain blossomed in its own pulse inside his chest.
"Relax. I don't need any more bruises from you. Just thought I'd ask."
The voice was hoarse with sleep and, probably, with some bitterness as well.
"Danny?"
Danny snorted.
"Of course it's me. Who else would it be? This is my bedroom."
Steve's ears strained to hear the quiet words over his own slow, weighted breathing. He was finally starting to gain some awareness in his shocked state of consciousness, and his body began to calm.
"You were talking in your sleep," Danny said from somewhere beyond the darkness.
The floor. He's sleeping on the floor.
"What did I say?" Steve asked, trying to remember the remnants of his most recent nightmare.
Even though it had only occurred seconds ago, the vividness of his dream was fading rapidly from his mind. Steve could remember there being a fire, there being fireworks, and he thought there was someone yelling something….
"Champ." Danny said.
"What?" Steve questioned, confused.
"You said 'champ' over and over again."
That was it. That was what the person was yelling at him.
"Listen to me, champ."
Steve grabbed at his hair before immediately releasing it. He never understood why he did that, other than the fact that it gave him a moment's worth of comfort. Ignoring the curiosity of his own odd habit, Steve leaned back against the headboard and let out a breath. While terror no longer possessed his body, there was a sense of foreboding weighing down on his shoulders. His nightmare had some significance to it. Steve wasn't sure how exactly, but if he could just remember something—anything—maybe something would make sense to him.
"What? Was it your dog or something?"
Steve actually considered the possibility, but soon found that answer to be absurd. He told Danny as much.
"Well, excuse me. I'm just trying to figure out how your damaged brain works."
"Yeah…me too," Steve said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
Danny let out a huff.
"Don't make me feel sorry for you. I'm still mad at you."
"I'm sorr—"
"No, no, no. I don't want an apology."
"Then what do you want?"
"What do I want? Well, let's see, for starters, I'd like my bed back, but that's clearly not going to happen seeing as you're all broken."
"I can get out—"
"No, no, no, don't trouble yourself. Your body, apparently, needs to heal more than mine does. I mean, that's what was ruled in this apartment without my knowledge."
"Are you injured too?"
"My pride certainly is."
Steve took a silent moment for thought. Though it was still pitch-black in the room, he could now make out a moving lump across the bedroom from him. Steve stared at it as he pondered something that occurred to him mere seconds ago.
"You know, I think you just like to fight."
"And I think you just like playing the victim."
"What? That's crazy."
"Is it? You don't mind stealing my bed—"
"You offered."
"After you had already stolen it."
"You're just proving my point right now."
Danny snorted again, and Steve thought he could make out the blonde's head shaking in the darkness.
"I don't get it," Steve confessed, reveling in the pleasant distraction of this conversation, "Why would anyone like to fight?"
"First of all, I do not like to fight," Danny said, "I like to argue."
"There's a difference?"
"There's a huge difference. One involves senseless violence, the other involves rationality under pressure."
"Rationality under pressure?"
"Yes."
"And you, being as irrational as you are—"
"Hey, hey, I am not irrational. It's everything else around me that is irrational."
"Oh, I see," Steve said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"It's true. Here there is pineapple on pizzas, cops don't wear ties, and when people say 'brah' they're talking about full-grown men and not women's undergarments."
As shocked as Steve was by this man's perception on Hawaii, he couldn't help but find great amusement in it as well. He appreciated the darkness making him invisible to Danny's eyes, for Steve wasn't sure what the blonde would do if he saw him grinning at his words.
"Uh-huh, uh-huh, go on," Steve egged on.
There a moment of silence.
"I know you're just humoring me."
"Nooo," Steve said, sarcasm dripping from the exaggerated syllable.
"But it's true. Hawaii is insane."
"And that is why you like to argue."
There was another moment of silence, but this one held less tension than the previous one.
"I like a good challenge," Danny said, his tone revealing that he was surprised by his own confession.
"And Hawaii's your biggest challenge." Steve deducted.
"…I guess so."
Steve smiled. It was a relief to know that the owner of his temporary living arrangements didn't hate him as much as he had originally led on. There was also a sense of victory in understanding Danny's psychological state, if only slightly. Danny came off as strange as he did ferocious, and having been able to see pass the façade, if only briefly, gave Steve some valuable insight on his gracious host. He never respected the man more than he did at that moment.
"Do you think you have a son?"
Shock zapped through Steve's veins.
"What?"
"Who else would you call 'champ?' If it's not a dog, maybe it's your kid."
A heavy weight sank into his stomach. For a few seconds, Steve couldn't breathe. What if he did have a son? Where was he? How could—who was the mother? Through the panic and uncertainty, it took Steve a long few moments to fully think out the possibility.
"I don't think so," Steve eventually concluded, his voice slow and weighted, "No…Mary would have said something, or…No, it just…doesn't sound right."
"Okay," Danny said casually, as if he hadn't nearly given Steve a heart attack.
Then something clicked.
"My father," Steve blurted, his wide eyes searching through the darkness, "I think my father was calling me that."
"Well that's something. Maybe you weren't having a dream. Maybe it was a memory."
It was amazing how uncomfortable Danny could make him feel twice with a ten minute period. Steve felt an aching fear in his chest behind the pounding of his scars.
"I really hope not, Danny. I really hope not."
