The Shallow Grave of Secret Longing

Chapter 9

Here's another long chapter. Hope you like it. Was trying to complete this before the new season begins but don't think I'm going to accomplish my goal. Shall struggle mightily not to immerse myself so deeply in the show that I forget to update.

Your reviews, alerts and favorites make me feel absolutely giddy. Ninja cats are puzzled by it since there is no catnip involved. Husband just rolls his eyes and asks if dinner is going to be late again.

Disclaimer: My lotto winner fantasy has been replaced by the fantasy of their being mine and that I make money from writing about them. Money can't buy everything. (I'm sure you guys can supply the punch line).

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Consequences

It was now almost six A.M. and morning dawned as expected with Steve spending most of it draped over a toilet bowl or lying on the tiled floor and groaning. Though he remembered nearly nothing of the night before, he knew whatever he'd done had not been the wisest. The previous night's excess had manifested in round after round of dry heaves and what could inadequately be described as a monumental headache.

Danny, this time having no fear his partner would take off for parts unknown, was about to leave to get some Tylenol and whatever he could find that might help make Steve's misery bearable.

I should just let the moron tough it out on his own, he thought sourly, serves him right for taking off.

Softening his attitude as he reluctantly conceded Steve probably had good reason to try to drink himself to death, he relented. Knocking on the bathroom door, he asked, "How you doing in there babe?" Getting only a groan in response, he couldn't help adding, "Wanna go get plowed again tonight? It's on me."

"Fuck-off, Danny!" was the muffled reply through the closed door, followed by the sound of another groan and another round of heaving.

"Be right back. I'm taking pity on you and getting you some Gatorade and Tylenol. It's the universal remedy for children with the flu and idiots who decide that killing off a few billion brain cells with alcohol poisoning is a good idea. If you so much as look at the exit, I'm going to tie you to your bed. Capiche?"

"You've got to be kidding." groaned the hoarse voice from the bathroom.

Danny assumed his partner was talking about the exit part rather the threatened consequences but he'd take what he could get. Chuckling, he grabbed his wallet and room key and went to look for hangover supplies.

…..

The bathroom door opened and Steve staggered out holding his head as though it would roll off his shoulders. Shirtless and shoeless, he stopped his forward progress abruptly, nearly losing his balance. He paused as if to gauge the distance from his standing position to the surface of the bed and making a decision, gritted his teeth and gingerly lowered himself onto it.

"Danny," he groaned into the shaky hands he held to his face, "did you bring your gun?"

"Of course not!" said the blonde, even though the weapon was hidden in his luggage. "Why do you want to know?" he asked narrowing his eyes at the pathetic creature before him as he twisted the cap off a bottle of Gatorade to hand to his partner.

"If you had it, you could do me the kind favor of putting me out of my misery."

"Sorry babe, you're not a horse, just the back-end of one."

"Bite me!" said the raspy voice from behind the hands as one of them shakily reached toward the bottle of orange liquid. He knew it wasn't the most creative response but it was the best he could come up with under the circumstances.

With an evil grin, the blonde said, "No thanks, but what I'd like to sink my teeth into is a humongous cheese and kielbasa sandwich. You know the ones loaded with grilled onions and peppers where the cheese and grease just drips off your elbows. They have the best kielbasa here in Chicago. We'll have to track a couple of those puppies down before we leave."

"Oh, God" gasped the hungover man as he thumped the plastic bottle down on the nightstand and lurched off the bed toward the bathroom.

"You want something for breakfast?" Danny called after him, smugly knowing the answer would be negative.

"No, just a bullet." was the hoarse answer from the other side of the door.

….

By late-morning, Danny had checked in with Chin and found nothing much going on the cousins couldn't handle. He brushed off any questions about Steve with the vague answer their boss was recovering from a hangover and the two of them would be on their way home as soon as the storm allowed the airport to reopen.

When he left, he hadn't told them anything other than he was taking a few days off to meet Steve and help him with a few things before coming back home. The cousins were afire with curiosity but knew, eventually, they'd find out what was going on. They just hoped their boss hadn't gotten himself into something he couldn't get out of. The man attracted trouble like black clothing seems to attract cat hair.

The man in question was feeling marginally better and had managed to keep down the Gatorade and a few crackers. How he looked was another matter altogether.

While waiting with the phone to his ear for airline/airport closure information, Danny sat on his bed and evaluated his partner's appearance as the tall man was slowly getting dressed after a longer than usual shower. Since he'd last seen Steve in swim trunks during Gracie's last surfing lesson, the tall man's ribs and hipbones were much more prominent. The thin red scar that ran from just below the bottom of his ribcage to disappear under his waistband was a new one. Saying the man looked trashed was being kind.

When he gets home and Kono sees him, she'll probably first hug him, then yell at him, then begin stuffing him with several of her mother's highest calorie recipes, thought Danny.

"See something you like?" asked the SEAL, irritated at his partner's stare, "Don't get your hopes up princess, you're not my type."

Danny only snorted at the dig, "You're looking a little ragged this fine . . . ", he looked out the window at the still falling snow, ". . . frigid day, my friend."

"Go figure." said the tall man grumpily as he pulled on a t-shirt then began rummaging around in his bag for a pair of clean socks.

"Yeah, trying to drink Chicago dry was not one of your brightest ideas, Steven."

"I'll concede the fact." said McGarrett as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the chest of drawers on which sat the canvas duffle. Staring back at him were eyes that looked like two holes in a blanket and hair that looked as though it had been styled with an egg beater. He inwardly cringed at the apparition. As Danny would say, (probably any minute now) - 'Not your best look, Babe.'

He was just lucky he didn't remember much of what had gone on last night. It was already embarrassing enough without the ugly details. He vaguely remembered being carried upside down over someone's shoulder. He knew it wasn't Danny and sincerely hoped he'd never again meet the guy who had lugged him back to the room.

Strangely, after missing his evening meds and in no way being able to keep down the morning ones, he felt a little more like himself. The gauzy curtain and the distant feeling were at bay for now. Of course they'd been replaced with nausea and a headache only a bullet could cure. He wasn't entirely sure it was a good trade-off.

So far, he didn't even feel the anxiety and screaming restlessness that seemed to plague him during every moment he was awake without the meds. Maybe physical pain cancelled out the other kind. Whatever. His head ached even thinking about it. Actually, thinking of anything at all was painful.

He considered a try at talking Danny into lessening the dosages but he knew his tough little partner wouldn't be swayed by any argument he might come up with. At least until they got home, maybe being drugged was for the best. He certainly didn't want a repeat of what had happened in the airport and Danny was probably not up to another chase around the city of Chicago. He knew he'd have to behave himself to even be allowed to leave the room without a collar and leash.

"Come on Rambo, let's go down to the coffee shop."

"Just let me die here, Danny." he groaned, "If I even look at anything you'd consider food, I'll be back to driving the porcelain bus."

"Serves you right for taking off like that. It's a wonder you don't have pneumonia as well." snipped Danny, unable to control his industrial-strength mothering instinct.

Steve didn't have an answer. He knew Danny was right. It had been a stupid thing to do but the need to escape was all that drove him. He couldn't even remember why he'd run off but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"You go ahead, D. Food isn't even remotely interesting to me right now." groaned Steve as he tiredly flopped back onto the bed, only one boot on, the other laying a couple of feet away on the floor. Getting both on at the same go seemed a herculean task at the moment. His head was pounding like a mother-fucker and bending over to retrieve his other boot would make it even more painful.

On the other hand, muddled as his mind was from the previous night's misadventure, now that the meds had worn off he was feeling almost normal - well as normal as his aching head and roiling stomach would let him.

He hoped Danny wouldn't be at him to take this morning's meds. He hated that dull, disconnected feeling they gave him. His hopes were immediately dashed when the blonde addressed him again.

"Sorry, babe; the instructions for some of your medications say you have to eat before taking them. Now that you have a better chance of keeping something down, it's time to be a grown-up again and stick to the agreement."

Steve couldn't argue with that. The reason Caldwell had agreed to let him leave was his promise to take his meds on a regular schedule; well that and Danny agreeing to babysit. That's what the tall man considered it . . . babysitting. He knew deep down he was grateful to have such a friend - someone who actually cared about his wellbeing. He also knew he'd agreed to cooperate and he couldn't go back on his word.

Sitting up and only experiencing mild lightheadedness this time, he found his other boot and pulled it on. He didn't even bother to lace it before standing and saying, "OK, lead the way, Mother Williams."

"Shut-up, asshole" sighed Danny as he walked quickly toward the door - he could hear a hot-fudge sundae calling his name.

…

The storm had stalled over Lake Michigan and wasn't letting up anytime soon. All flights were still cancelled and the airport was shut down for the moment.

Steve agreed to pay for an extra night at the Drake. He himself would've been fine hanging out at the airport if that 'incident' hadn't happened. He'd stayed in far less comfortable surroundings during his lifetime in the military.

Their late breakfast/early lunch wasn't as awful as it could have been. After seeing Danny's order of a mountain of vanilla ice cream covered with fudge, Steve actually did order a sundae and managed to keep it down along with the meds. He figured the extra calories certainly couldn't hurt right now and he wasn't going to be scheduled for anything that would require he be in peak physical condition for a while . . . if ever.

He looked almost sadly at the pills sitting in the palm of his hand. He knew that at least one of those would make him feel really out of it. Sure, he was far less anxious but it was a trade-off. He supposed it was safest for everyone around him to have him drugged to the eyeballs. It had to be done.

As he finished dispensing the last of the meds, Danny noticed his friend's hesitation. "It's okay Steve. I'm with you and it's only temporary. Caldwell says we can lighten up at least on the Ativan as soon as we get home. It's just to lessen the stress of travel so you can get some decent rest."

McGarrett said nothing, he just took the handful of pills and popped them into his mouth, the coffee he'd ordered was cool enough now to wash them down. He'd even had a minor 'discussion' with his partner over regular or decaf and Mother Williams had won . . . of course. He sighed as he took a swallow of the decaffeinated brew that tasted like boiled cardboard.

They talked of nothing significant. Steve could feel the dulling of his senses as the drugs kicked in. It's for the best, it's for the best, he repeated the mantra in his head over and over as he smiled at the appropriate places in Danny's animated account of Grace's latest achievement as captain of her soccer team or Kono's latest kick-ass confrontation with a perp.

Danny could see Steve's eyes begin to lose their concentrated, if bloodshot, focus. His heart heavy, the blonde watched the slow transformation to the dull glazed look that had been evident when they'd been reunited at Quantico. It's for the best, he sadly thought.

…..

The nagging guilt of drugging his partner, (with his acquiescence), made him restless for some sort of distraction. It distressed him to see Steve so subdued and compliant. He was used to a man who was almost never still; never without a smart comeback of some sort; never without an audacious solution to a daunting project, (meaning he usually blew something up). Much as he'd long accused his partner of being a child, he didn't like being the only adult in the room.

Shedd Aquarium wasn't that far from the hotel. It certainly shouldn't be crowded on a day like today. Not wanting to leave Steve alone, he talked the SEAL into a field trip. Only the hardiest of cabbies still patrolled the streets for their fares. The city looked nearly deserted as the snow still fell heavily though the wind had somewhat abated.

Danny thought that even if it wasn't the Pacific Ocean, maybe the SEAL wouldn't feel so out of his element if he could look at fish swimming around in a big tank. That was his theory anyway.

Actually, the whole thing seemed disconcerting to Steve as they emerged from the cab onto a snowy sidewalk and trotted up the steps of the aquarium.

One minute they were in the middle of a dismal winter storm and the next, in the middle of the Caribbean. Even without the drugs, it would have been disorienting as exotic and brightly colored fish contained in the huge glass tanks that lined the walkway swam around them on both sides.

Though not really surprised, Danny found that Steve's knowledge of the aquatic world, however slowly dispensed at the moment, was impressive. The SEAL had helped Gracie with her homework and she'd gotten an A on her report on sharks. He worried his baby was planning on being the next Croc Hunter - only with sharks instead of reptiles. If so, he'd have Steve to blame.

They wandered through the exhibit, Danny cringing at the reef sharks swimming inches from his face behind the thick glass. Steve, lost in medication and the underwater world, displayed an unguarded look of awe on his face.

….

It started as a bit of yelling. An angry man in front of the manta exhibit was giving his kid hell for not paying attention. The boy's mother, a small woman with a worried expression was trying to placate the agitated man, pushing the child behind her protectively as she tried to calm and shush her husband. The few people in the area had turned to stare.

Her husband, at least a foot taller and many pounds heavier, suddenly reached out to slap her hard across the face, his own twisted in an angry snarl as the sound reverberated off the hard surfaces of glass and tile.

In a flash, Steve and Danny were there; the detective placing himself between the angry man and his distressed wife as Steve grabbed the man's arms to twist them up behind his back.

"Let me go you asshole! This is between me and my wife!"

"No" said Danny calmly, "Now, it's between you, your wife and two guys who are gonna kick your ass if you raise your hand to this woman again."

"You can't push me around! I know my rights!" yelled the man, unknowingly taking an incredibly stupid stand against a Jersey cop and a Navy SEAL.

Steve growled softly into his ear, "You'd better listen to the man or your wife will be bailing you out of jail or claiming your body from the medical examiner."

"Let go of me you fucking bastard!" he yelled at the SEAL who had no problem twisting the combative man's arms up a little higher as the threats escalated.

"OW! DAMMIT! I'm gonna call the cops! You have no right to restrain me! This is my business!"

"No." calmly replied Danny once again, "When you hauled off and smacked your wife, you made it the business of a couple of cops who happened to be spending a nice quiet day at the aquarium until you decided to disturb it. I'd choose my words wisely if I were you and calm the hell down."

"Please Jeff! Do what they say! I don't want you to get hurt!" said the frightened woman, her son peeking out worriedly from behind his mother, eyes wide.

Steve wondered how she could even defend the brute as blood dripped from her nose and her cheek began to swell. He let his partner take the lead. Danny would be better at figuring this out. His years as a cop rolling on domestic violence calls always came in handy in these situations.

Steve really didn't understand the woman's defense of the man. He knew if it were Kono or Cath, the women would've fucking cold-cocked the bastard by now with absolutely no need to be 'rescued' by a couple of off-duty cops. It would have been the last time the guy ever tried any crap like that on either of them.

Jeff stopped struggling, still breathing heavily; his face was flushed and the veins in his neck visibly pulsing. The battered woman pleaded with her two rescuers to let her husband go. The boy, a towhead who looked to be about ten or so clung to her fiercely, frightened but not crying.

"Please!" plead the woman, "He's getting help. He's not always like this. He just hasn't been able to . . . cope very well lately. Please let him go, we'll go right home. Please!"

"Ma'am, don't you want to report this? I would advise you to do so." said Danny.

"No. No police. Jeff's a good man, he's just . . . he just got back from duty and he's not quite back to himself yet. He has an appointment tomorrow. It will be okay until then, I'm sure of it."

Still reluctant to release the asshole to his wife, Danny hesitatingly agreed. "Okay, if you're sure." he said, not wanting to look at his partner. This was awkward in more ways than one.

Against his better judgment, he nodded to Steve who reluctantly released his hold on the jerk.

"Come on Jeff, honey. Let's go home." said the woman as she tugged her husband away. The boy looked sadly back at Steve who stood as though he was made of stone watching the little family make their way toward the exit.

"Come on, Steven, we still haven't seen the otters." said the blonde as he put his hand on Steve's arm. As soon as his fingers touched the tightly bunched muscles, he felt Steve flinch and then roughly pull away, eyes still fastened on the three people who were now nearly out of sight.

"Steven, we've got more things to see here, let's go." He spoke to him quietly and calmly but in his head was the thought, Oh shit. What now.

Turning toward the detective he asked almost desperately, "Is that what I'm like? Danny, is that what I'm like!" His voice was shaking. His entire body was trembling now.

"No, no, you're nothing like that guy. He was probably an asshole to begin with. You're nothing like that buddy. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone, particularly a woman and a kid. That's not you babe."

Haunted hazel-blue eyes bored into his, "Danny, if that's what I'm like, then I shouldn't even be out in public! I shouldn't even be out of a locked cage!"

"Steven, it's OK. We'll have time to sort this out when we get home. Don't worry, babe. I repeat - you're nothing like that guy. I know you wouldn't hurt a woman, you wouldn't harm anyone who didn't deserve it."

Stricken and pale, the tall man looked toward the exhibit's exit through which the three had just disappeared. He softly said, "It's too late. You don't know what I've done. You have no idea."

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Next chapter up in about four days. I bet most of you can guess what's coming. You guys are really sharp!