Title: Saving Grace

Author: Proclaim Thy Warrior Soul

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Nothing recognisable belongs to me. Although, I'm sure by now I should own at least a little bit, right? No? Okay...

Summary: It should have been a simple task, taking Grace to the mall to choose Danno's birthday present, right? Wrong. Nothing is ever simple in the life of Steve McGarrett. He just hopes Danny can one day forgive him for this one...because he's not sure he can ever forgive himself.

Notes: So, you can thank (or blame, your choice!) the amazing sym64 for the new chapter, because the muse was inspired after our recent conversation. I know it's been one heck of a wait, but I hope there's still people out there wanting to read. Please enjoy!

Warnings: Language.


Chapter 12

"You're not even listening to me. Why won't anyone hear what I'm saying?"

Danny climbed unsteadily to his feet, pushing meddling hands away as they tried to prevent his escape. "Seriously, how hard can it be? Give me the damn scalpel and I'll dig the bullet out for myself!"

"Sir, you need to calm down and let us do our job-"

"I don't have time, have you not been listening? I need to..." Danny paused, swallowing hard as the blood loss from his impromptu bullet wound caused his head - and the room around him - to spin. "...I need to, to get out of here. I need to find my little girl, and my partner, and ..."

The nurse attempting to placate the agitated detective so she could take his vitals shared a look of concern with her younger assistant, nodding quickly at the unspoken question of whether they should call for help.

It arrived moments later in the form of Doctor Kekoa and an anxious Kono, the women walking through the door just as Danny decided that he'd had enough.

"You can't keep me here if I don't want to stay," the short blond declared, yanking the blood pressure cuff off and once more trying to move around the nurse and her assistant.

"Detective Williams-"

"Danny!"

Spinning to face the two new voices, Danny's already pale face turned grey as he discovered his mistake in moving so fast. "Oh..."

The quick actions of the nurse and her pretty assistant stopped the Jersey native before he hit the floor, but only just. Kono rushed forward to offer a hand as they hefted the barely conscious detective back up onto the bed whilst Doctor Kekoa grabbed her stethoscope and took charge of the situation.

"Detective Williams, can you hear me?"


As consciousness struggled to reassert itself, Steve became aware of two things. One was the sound of voices; familiar, heavily accented and obviously highly strung over something; the other was that he was being dragged, none too gently, down a narrow hallway of some kind, his feet scraping noisily along the bumpy ground.

Keeping his eyes closed tight and his body limp, the SEAL struggled to reassemble his confused memories, the task made worse by the fierce pounding in his head. The last thing he remembered clearly was the hospital; the unsettling feeling of being watched, and his escape attempt. But then there was Danny...

"I can't believe you nearly let the haole get away, brah."

Steve swallowed thickly and forced himself to concentrate. Clearly he'd taken a few too many knocks to the head.

"Shut it, would ya? The sonofabitch broke my damn nose. He's lucky I don't break his neck."

"Hah! It adds to your charm, bruddah."

Steve winced as his fight with Ramirez and his partner in the van came flooding back. One of his kidnappers gave a particularly spiteful jerk to both restrained arms, still cuffed unnecessarily tight at his back, and McGarrett couldn't hold in the resulting groan of pain. Both men carried on, seemingly oblivious, or simply ignorant, to his discomfort.

"Screw you, Keola. C'mon, lets dump this trash and get gone before the Boss man shows up. I don't wanna be the one explainin' why we're behind schedule. Do you?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

The rest of their short lived journey continued in silence. Steve noticed with a flare of panic that he was beginning to zone out, the effort to feign unconsciousness whilst not tossing his cookies all over himself a more difficult task than he'd anticipated. It was a relief when a few moments later they came to a halt.

Keola readjusted his bruising grip as he rifled through his pocket in search of a key.

"C'mon, man. Speed it up!"

"Shut it, asshole. You're not the only one gettin' tired of dragging this haole carcass around."

"Here, gimme the key, brah."

The piercing screech of a heavyset door being dragged open forced the SEAL's nausea to a whole new level. Suddenly unable to clamp down on the rising bile, Steve gave into the urge and expelled the meagre contents of his stomach all over himself and the two men in close proximity. The extra pressure on his throbbing ribs was almost too much to bear.

"Sonofabitch!"

"Oh, hell no! I don't fuckin' believe it!"

Steve momentarily lost the ability to breathe as he was thrown haphazardly onto the cold, hard floor, his shoulder taking the brunt of the fall but his momentum pushing him onto his back, pinning his cuffed arms beneath the weight of his own body. The filthy cast supporting his injured wrist gave a resounding crack under the added pressure, but it was impossible to differentiate between the new pain this caused his wrist and the all encompassing agony that flooded his senses.

A boot to the ribs forced him back onto his front. Before McGarrett could react, or even attempt to clear the fog from his brain, a hand grabbed the hood of his purple top and dragged him mercilessly towards the edge of the room.

Coughing to clear the foul taste from his mouth and to suck down some desperately needed oxygen, Steve couldn't find it in himself to fight back any longer as his wrists were unshackled from each other. The arm with the mangled cast was yanked and twisted until it was in the correct position for being re-cuffed to a sturdy, but old, radiator attached to the brick wall.

With a final, spiteful kick to the ribs, Ramirez spat on the barely conscious SEAL and stormed from the room, muttering a mixture of curses and threats under his breath as he went.

The sound of the key turning in the lock echoed, taunting in its loudness, around the large room, but the silence that followed was refreshingly welcome.

Using the next few minutes to simply breathe, Steve called upon several meditation techniques in a bid to slow the manic beating of his heart. Whilst adrenaline typically did wonders for masking pain, it was creating a steel band of tightness across his chest that was making the natural action of taking a deep breath nearly impossible. Matching the racing of his heart was the frenetic pounding within his skull. Steve feared that if he didn't compose himself soon his head would explode.

Counting slowly, the SEAL forced his breathing to coincide.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine

Ten.

Now that the pounding in his head had subsided a little, Steve realised that he could hear a soft snuffling from across the room. Freezing at the revelation that he wasn't alone, the head of Five-O pried open one weary eye and surveyed his new surroundings from his position face down on the floor.

Wooden chairs; an overturned table. But there, in the farthest corner of the unfamiliar room, curled into a tight ball as she tried to make herself as small as possible, was the most beautiful sight Steve could ever imagine.

"Gracie..."


Author's Notes: Once again, massive thanks to sym64. This chapter wouldn't be here without you - THANK YOU :)