The Shallow Grave of Secret Longing
Chapter 9
Here's a longer chapter. This one was proofed in a rush so if you see anything that threatens to totally ruin the story, let me know. Thank you for your feedback on the previous chapters. Knowing that people actually read what I've written is such a rush.
Disclaimer: If I made money from this, my ass would be on a plane to Hawaii so fast that even the relentless ninja cats couldn't catch me. Husband would send out a search party when the dishes piled up high enough but I think he knows where I'd be.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
Slow Death
The bar was nothing special. Neither too tawdry nor too upscale, it was just a rather dimly lit little neighborhood hole-in-the-wall. They spotted him as soon as they walked in. He sat alone in a corner booth, a single shot glass and a bottle sitting on the scarred tabletop in front of him. He sat staring into space, eyes unfocused; whatever he gazed at visible only to him.
As they walked in, shaking snow from their coats, the bartender recognized Bill. The man was hard to miss with his bright red hair and six-foot-four body of muscle and what some call 'hard' fat. He was as solid as a concrete and steel-reinforced outhouse.
"Hey Billy!" smiled the trim, balding man as he threw his bar towel over one shoulder and gave a casual salute in greeting.
"Sammy!" smiled Bill, striding toward the bar, giving Danny room to confront Steve on his own.
The detective approached the table slowly. He studied Steve's face. It was pale and worn; dark stubble covered his jaw and his hair had obviously been subject to the elements. It clung closely to his skull with several errant clumps curling upward as it dried. His clothing looked nearly dry as well. Danny wondered how Steve had even managed to survive being outdoors without a jacket. The storm had morphed from sheets of cold rain to stinging pellets of sleet and was now a full-on snowstorm.
"Steven?" he said as he stood near his partner's elbow. The man hadn't even seemed to notice that anyone was standing right beside him. "Hey, partner, how you doin'?" he said softly, "You kinda freaked me out when you took off like that."
Glassy, bloodshot eyes turned toward him as Steve looked him up and down without speaking. He raised the shot glass to his lips and downed its contents in one gulp, setting the small, heavy, tumbler back on the table with a thump.
"Hey, Danno!" he seemed to suddenly click back into the 'now' as he smiled in recognition at the concerned face that hovered above him. "Have a drink with me! It's pretty good for the cheap stuff." The grin was lopsided and the eyes glazed but it was welcoming enough.
"At this point, my friend, anything that wasn't distilled yesterday in a trashcan would probably seem pretty good to you. Maybe we should get back to the hotel, buddy. According to the weather reports, the storm may let up enough for us to catch a flight out tomorrow sometime. We need to get you to bed. Aren't you cold? You don't even have a jacket you idiot."
"Mm not cold." slurred Steve, "drank too much to be cold . . . too much to be anything." He laughed, seemingly amused with his own private joke.
"Yeah, I bet." agreed Danny, taking in the nearly empty bottle that sat next to the now empty shot glass.
"C'mon Danno, have a drink with me. We should get drunk together. We haven't done that in a long time."
"I think you've got a pretty good head-start on me partner. Besides, one of us has to remember which hotel we're at." Danny sat and signaled for the barmaid; a tired looking middle-aged blonde wearing a top that revealed a rather leathery looking cleavage. She'd probably been quite the looker a few years ago but now, appeared as worn as her surroundings.
"Hey, Paula", greeted Steve as she came up to them, a tray of empty beer mugs balanced in her hand. "Meet my partner Danny. He's a cop. He's a really good cop, not like me."
"I'm glad Danny's here." smiled Paula tiredly. "I think you've had enough for tonight sweetie." Turning to Danny she said, "Sam and I were about ready to go through his pockets to see who we could call to come get him. He seems like a nice kid. We should've cut him off a long time ago but he said he had someone who'd come for him. Said he was waiting for Danno. That's you, right?"
Danny nodded in confirmation and then rolled his eyes at his obviously inebriated partner who only smiled drunkenly back at him; lopsided grin looking even goofier with a snootful of whiskey behind it.
"C'mon Danno, don't be a par…party pooper. Have a drink with me. Paula will bring it to you. Paula's really nice."
"Sweetie, if I was even ten years younger . . . and you were a lot more sober, I'd show you how nice I could be." she laughed toward Steve then winked suggestively toward Danny.
Steve loudly guffawed, nearly doubling over at the barmaid's remark then straightening to give her one of his trademarked grins that would melt the heart of The Venus de Milo and solve the mystery of the Mona Lisa's smile.
"Honey, you'd better get your friend home before I change my mind about those requirements." laughed Paula to Danny as she removed the now empty bottle from the tabletop and put it on her laden tray.
"OK, Rambo, I'll have a drink with you, but just the one and then we blow this place and go pour you into bed. You are gonna be one sorry puppy tomorrow my friend."
Steve only grinned widely and said to Paula, "Br…bring my friend a bottle of . . . "
"A bottle of MG draught" finished Danny. He thought Steve might be ordering another bottle of whiskey. That wasn't even remotely wise at this point.
With a salacious wink and an amused chuckle, Paula went off to get the beer, the collected mugs on her tray clinking loudly as she walked to the other side of the narrow room to set them on the bar.
Danny took a seat opposite Steve. He looked over to where Bill was engrossed in deep conversation with the bartender. It was probably best to let him be for now. They seemed to be having a good time in spite of the late hour. By morning, Steve may not even remember having been introduced to anyone.
The barmaid came back with his beer and Danny laid a couple of bills on her tray. She smiled at him, mouthing, "Good luck honey." as she walked away.
They sat silently for a few minutes; Danny picking at the edges of the napkin under his drink and Steve staring into the amber liquid in his glass – the last of the whisky from the now empty bottle.
"Danny?"
"Umm"
"Do you think God lives in the desert?"
Taken aback by the seriously strange question, the detective didn't know if or what he should answer.
After a long pause, taking in the earnest searching look from across the table, he answered, "I think God lives everywhere, Steven. Why are you asking this?"
Glazed hazel-blue eyes seemed to look inward before focusing once again on Danny's pale blue ones. Steve was deciding which of the chaotically racing thoughts he'd capture. The alcohol slowed them down a little but they were still there, springing across his mind like fleeing antelope.
Exhaling shakily then taking a breath he began, "When I was there, I prayed really hard but . . . ", he hesitated before shaking his head sadly and saying, "it never happened."
The detective looked back into the drawn face, knowing he had to ask the question.
"What did you pray for?" asked Danny quietly, knowing he would probably cringe at whatever his drunken friend came up with.
"I prayed to die." was the brief, blunt, breath stealing answer.
Danny felt his blood freeze, his brain stop processing as it seemed to seize-up. He reached out to put his hand on his partner's arm, feeling tight muscle grow even tighter beneath his touch despite the alcohol.
"Steven . . . ", he could barely breathe out, "Why did you want to die?"
Steve was becoming increasingly bleary-eyed; swaying almost imperceptibly in his chair.
"I was the only one left. I should . . . I should have died. If I'd been killed first, the baby would still be alive. How could I still be alive and that poor baby dead? Why would God let that happen? Why?" he demanded slamming his hand down on the table loud enough to make both Bill and Sam glance over to make sure nothing too physical was going on.
In the few times Danny had really seen his partner ripped, Steve wasn't a maudlin drunk. While not necessarily the life of the party, he'd usually relax enough to become a little more talkative and cheerful.
Staring down into the shot glass as though the answer lay at the bottom of it, Steve now sat quietly. Danny waited patiently for him to continue.
The soft voice said, "Before they left me alone, they said I was stupid for even thinking I'd go home again. I ignored what they said but later, I realized they were right. I should have gone with them."
"Babe, you survived. You came home. You were right to ignore what they told you."
Pale blue eyes were blinking back tears as Danny's chest tightened and his throat constricted. No one needed this much pain, least of all someone who always tried to do the right thing no matter the personal cost. That Steve had kept it together for this long; had kept from falling apart in spite of the tragedies in his life was testament to his inner strength.
"No, they were right." asserted Steve, his face eerily calm and earnest. "They still te. . tell me that sometimes to remind me." he sighed, shaking his head from side to side as if to empty the sound of long dead voices from it.
Danny's gut did a backflip; a full-on triple fucking backflip.
"When?" he asked with dread, "When do they talk to you?"
Steve looked down at his hands; studying them before he looked up, eyes glassy and liquid. "When . . . when I try to sleep. Mostly when I try to sleep . . . oh, Danny!" he suddenly gasped, reaching across the table to grip his partner's arm so hard it actually hurt and would probably bruise. Danny didn't flinch.
"They won't let me sleep! All those voices . . . and the . . . the screams. They won't let me sleep . . . and I'm so tired!" The pooled tears escaped one by one to slide slowly down his lean face.
He released Danny's arm and buried his head in arms resting on the table's scarred surface.
Danny's tears trailed down his own face as he rubbed soothingly on his partner's back and made the same soothing sounds he'd done at times for distraught children, his own or any others who needed it.
He knew the booze was messing with Steve's mind. It was also a very, very bad idea to combine alcohol with the other medications. Four milligrams of Ativan and a bottle of whiskey was a Judy Garland cocktail. Far too many people had made the mistake of combining alcohol and drugs with sometimes fatal results.
Still, his partner was NEVER this open about anything. Though he was as close as a brother, Danny knew that even as a brother this conversation would never have taken place if it weren't for the booze.
"Steven, let's get you back to the hotel, OK? I think you need to rest and try to sleep. You're, no doubt, going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow. Make that later today." he amended, looking at his wristwatch.
The blonde nodded to Bill who now sat at a corner table nursing a beer of his own. Danny would have to do something nice for his old partner as a thank you for his help, (and his understanding, not to mention his new need for auto repair).
The big man ambled over to the table, waiting patiently for Danny to tug Steve to his feet. This time, in spite of the SEAL's previously exhibited and seriously freaky ability to hold his liquor, (Danny had actually seen the man down numerous straight shots and still manage to look as though he'd never touched a drop), this time, Steve was utterly and completely shit-faced.
The SEAL swayed unsteadily, before suddenly realizing there was someone unfamiliar standing next to him. Startled, he took a wild swing at the mountain of a man and missed completely. Bill grabbed his arm and laughed, "Whoa, buddy. Let's get you back to the car, OK? We don't want to have to call out the 'real' cops."
"Fucking cops." slurred Steve who, with one eye closed, looked up at the man who smiled benignly down at him and apparently decided that launching another attack wasn't such a good idea. "You know, I . . . I'm a fucking cop? They let anyone be cops these days . . . even me."
Danny just shook his head and taking Steve's other arm, they steered him toward the exit. Except for Sam, they were the only ones still in the place. Paula had gone home for the night, possibly to dream of the handsome dark-haired man who'd found his way into her workplace.
As they passed the lone man wiping down the tables and straightening up, the blonde detective reached for his wallet to settle Steve's tab.
"We're good." said Sam, "Your friend already took care of his tab. He slapped down a handful of twenties and I'll be damned if he didn't drink most of it." smiled the barkeep. "I actually owe him about twenty or so in change. That guy is gonna be in some serious pain tomorrow."
He's already in serious pain, thought Danny before tiredly smiling, "Just keep it. You earned it."
"Thanks man. Hope your friend feels better tomorrow."
They wrestled a stumbling Steve out to the curb and practically stuffed him into the back seat as the inebriated man mumbled to himself about SEALs and cops and whatever else Danny couldn't make out right now.
"He's not gonna ralph in my car is he?" asked Bill as he carefully eyed the man who now seemed to be holding a conversation with himself in the back seat of the Ford that had already endured its share of misfortune for the night.
"Don't think so, he's always been pretty good about being able to hold his liquor – though tonight may be the exception. I'll watch him. Be ready to pull over if it comes to that."
All the way back to the hotel, Danny monitored his friend closely for any sign of impending eruptions. Luckily, there'd been no need to pause in their journey back to the Drake.
Getting Steve into the car was one thing, getting him out of it was another. After repeated attempts to get him awake enough to get out on his own, Bill finally lost patience and just pulled him out by the legs and threw the SEAL over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Marching through the lobby, the strange trio got a raised eyebrow from the kid at the front desk. Doing his duty, he marched over to them to ask, "Is there something I can help you with gentlemen?"
"No, no, we're just getting this guy back to his room. He's had a little too much to drink." Taking a hand off of his cargo Bill reached into his pocket to retrieve his CPD shield to flash at the kid who, though he had to be older, looked about fourteen, his teeth still encumbered by braces.
"Oh, okay officer. Just had to make sure the man was still breathing."
"No worries kid. He's breathing but I gotta get him up to the room before he wakes up and decides to make a break for it again."
When the desk clerk looked questioningly at the big red haired cop the small blonde man standing next to him shrugged and said, "Long story."
The young night clerk knew that guests returning from a night on the town in varying states of sobriety weren't unusual. What was unusual was someone the size of a refrigerator carrying another man as though he was a bag of laundry across the lobby.
"Just checking, officers." he nodded and waved them toward the elevators.
Whatever, thought the kid as he went back to his paperwork at the front desk.
They reached the elevator bank and entering one of the mirrored boxes, Danny punched the button for the tenth floor. He looked at the sepia reflection in the bronzed surface and almost smiled at what it showed.
There stood Bill calmly looking up at the lights of the floor indicator, an unconscious Steve slung over his shoulder. The big man looked as if toting a hundred-seventy-more-or less-pound man like an inked deer carcass was the most normal thing in the world.
He would have laughed if it weren't for the serious issue that preceded the strange scene. He just shook his head at his two friends and reached into his pocket for his key card as the elevator dinged when they reached their floor.
Though Bill showed no signs of tiring, Danny was glad their room wasn't that far from the elevator. Opening the door, he let the big man past him to dump Steve unceremoniously onto the already turned down bed; the SEAL not even waking when he thumped limply down onto its surface.
"Thanks Bill. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help. I was sure he was gonna get his ass shot by either cops or bad guys before the night was over. You have no idea what he can manage to get into when I'm not around. I'm grateful to you." said Danny sincerely, looking up at the big Irishman.
The blonde was aware of the nicknames their co-workers had for the two of them when they were partnered: Mutt and Jeff, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Burt and Ernie. The height-challenged detective was happy that Steve, though more than half a foot taller than he, wasn't even close to the size of his former partner.
Danny figured there were some choice nicknames for them in Hawaii too but Steve's BAMF reputation would most likely stop anyone with a sense of self-preservation and at least half a brain from saying them within hearing distance.
Bill said simply, "Partners always look out for each other, kid. I know you'd have done the same for me. Maybe, if I ever get to Hawaii, you'll have to." he smiled broadly, "I hear those umbrella drinks are pretty tasty."
"That they are. Just notify me ahead of time so I can get a couple more friends and maybe a skiploader ready. I don't think I can sling you over my shoulder like you did Steve."
They stood staring down at the drunken man who'd not even twitched since being plopped onto the bed.
"Good luck with your partner. If you're this worried about him, he must be someone worth the worry. I hope he can get it together again. Won't be easy. He's gonna need you Tiger."
"I'll be there for him. He's the only reason I even survived on that freakin' island. I owe him a lot. He's a good man and like a brother to me. I know he'd do whatever he could if I needed help. He'd be there for me no matter what."
He looked down at Steve who lay unmoving and unaware. He could almost hear Steve saying 'I can't even help myself, how can I help anyone else?'.
"Thanks for all your help Billy. I'll make sure Steve knows he owes you one, well more than one. I'll get him to pay the deductible for your car repair." smiled the blonde.
With a quiet laugh, the big cop gave him a half-salute saying, "Don't worry about it Tiger. The old lady's loaded. Gotta go home now and apologize for my sudden abandonment of my beloved on such a cold night." He winked suggestively and let himself out of the room.
Now alone with his charge, Danny sighed and hands on hips, looked down at the man now snoring on the bed, mouth open and actually drooling.
Steve couldn't go on like this and Danny was sorely afraid the impatient man wouldn't even bother with a slow death by alcohol.
…..
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
Reviews are almost better than chocolate. (I can't believe I said that but I admit I'm a trifle needy). Would love to hear from you.
