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H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O
They got him into the truck because in the end, they couldn't afford to wait such an unreasonably long amount of time. Chin knelt on the rear seat as he gently pulled and lifted Danny's upper body into place while Steve managed his legs. He held Danny there until Steve rounded the bed of the big truck, one hand leaving smears of blood and dirt along its length as Steve used the solid metal for balance.
Ignoring the concerned look for himself, Steve changed places with Chin. He also ignored the feeling of breathlessness and the sticky dampness under his tac-vest while he squirmed his body under Danny's. He lifted once more, a soft grunt the only permission he allowed his own escalating pain to show. When Chin closed the door, Steve leaned back, closed his eyes and braced Danny's upper body against his chest, the oxygen tank on the floor boards and one arm tightly wended around his friend to hold him still.
Through heavily-lidded eyes, Steve vaguely watched as Chin jogged to the opposite side to make sure Danny's legs were well inside the vehicle and then the door was slammed shut. He was still itching to move, his brain mulishly multitasking and on high alert. But his body was resenting even the smallest of requests now. Sharp pains trickled endlessly from his abdomen and into his lower back. Steve simply hurt from stem to stern; each rut and bump jarring as they left the old complex and HPD descended en masse.
Still, they didn't speak to each other as the air conditioner was thumbed on high to displace the heat inside the truck. Chin began to spout demands to the authorities arriving at the scene while Steve focused on keeping Danny as still as possible because their own personal goal was simple now: fifteen minutes was indeed much too long to wait. Their new objective was to at least cut the time in half and meet the ambulance half way on the main highway.
Danny roused briefly, feeling the coolness of the air first and almost panicked. He shivered reflexively and moaned, a thick ache flaring inside his throat. The sense of panic increased as an arm was readjusted, a hand trying to soothe ran its length from shoulder to elbow. Something flooded his nostrils with the clean pureness of oxygen and yet, an immovable iron band lay sturdily across his chest.
His logic was simple: Spense had simply found another way to terrorize him. The soft murmur he could feel through the back of his shoulders was different though. Familiar. Non-threatening. These cues conflicted and he found himself torn on how to react inside a body that was terribly depleted. It was hard to breathe and he thought that he should remember why. There would be a reason - a frightening reason - and Dylan's dark face flickered in his mind's eye.
He thought he should be dead and yet he was still breathing despite the painful ring of swelling around his neck. But it was cold - he was so very cold and that feeling brought Spense back as he dismally recognized the familiar air-conditioning which countered a recent smothering heat he'd been - walking through? Unable to remember, Danny fought his rising sense of panic all over again. His feet were cold; his arms were cold and he trembled uncontrollably from both fever and fear. Illogical thoughts of Spense morphed into believing he was back either with him in the penthouse or with Dylan by some horrific method.
Danny softly moaned as the vehicle he was in connected with an especially deep pothole. There was a pained hiss above his head and his face contorted in discomfort as his breathing hitched. An urgent vibration of sound emanated through his shoulders in response and he was gently maneuvered to a slightly more comfortable position which eased his breathing. The oxygen mask was adjusted too and rough fingers cradled his temple. Familiar. Non-threatening and he began to remember.
Some things had improved and Steve's name came to a tired mind. Nonetheless, Danny didn't wish to look. He'd dreamt Steve's heat-riddled silhouette after all. He'd made up the hallucination in an exhausted state of despair. So he didn't want to know or prove to himself that he was in the back of Dylan's SUV on their way to the dry-docked tanker as the severe jouncing stopped and the vehicle he was trapped in increased its speed when it hit a well-paved road. Another visit to the blackness of his special room would indeed kill him this time.
Regardless of what he thought he believed or knew, Danny eventually opened his eyes. He saw his own feet first, lax and bare; covered in dirt, they simply shuddered limply along concomitant with the vehicle's motion. But things were indeed different as he stared hazily at the opposite rear window and watched the sliver of brightness streak by at a rapid pace.
Sirens. The noise was almost deafening. How could he have missed that until now?
He hadn't been listening hard enough which was a startling realization. Or perhaps, he hadn't been able to hear before that moment. Lacking the strength to move more than his eyes, Danny turned his gaze closer to the blurry band which lay across his chest. Dark, tanned skin as filthy as his own held him close. His left wrist was being held firmly in place, too. Most likely to avoid an ungainly flop to the open space between bench seat and main cabin. Danny's eyes flickered to his feet again and then lazily to the back of the truck's bucket seats.
He recognized the interior then and tried to swallow hard as his throat picked the wrong time to tighten even more, managing only a dry wheeze.
Steve's pickup truck.
Under the oxygen mask, Danny's lips twitched. He couldn't speak and could scarcely make the softest of sounds. He blinked hard at the outline of his own thumb, forcing it to move and achieve the tiniest shift, a slip of a finger which he repeated until another also decided to cooperate. Then, he weakly rapped against the only tanned finger he could reach, ignoring the disturbing freshness of a blood stain in lieu of sending a message. The reward he gained was instantaneous.
"Danny?" The voice above his head was full of a sincere hope and a deep concern as his hand was gently squeezed in kind. Danny felt himself ever so slightly shifted, his upper body carefully repositioned until their eyes could meet. He blinked a few more times before knitting his brow in confusion, Steve's careful smile was ruined by the fear he also communicated. Worried by the look, Danny wanted to tell him he was fine though it would be a downright lie. He wanted to say that nothing had happened almost in a knee-jerk polite sort of way despite knowing that too, would be a lie.
His mouth moved again under the oxygen mask. Desperate to talk, Danny winced because the simplest action of moving his jaw sent an acute, knife-like pain through his neck.
"Don't try to say anything," Steve murmured over his head quickly. "You're safe ... we're here ... Chin ... me. It's over. Just rest, Danny."
Danny winced through a poor attempt at merely nodding. The oxygen was helping, but he knew he was in trouble as he vainly tried to fill his lungs more deeply. It hurt, his vision sparkled dangerously around the edges, and he felt like he was drowning above water. He heard himself then - he heard the sharp whine and wheeze as his lungs argued their ability to inhale.
His mouth formed a single word - 'help' - and his eyes closed tightly against the unbidden flux of tears as his breathing faltered and he scarcely managed a sharp cough.
Upside down Steve and a plea to simply breathe were the last things Danny knew as his eyes slowly slid closed, a tear lost down one cheek. He was still afraid and confused. He was still in trouble, but there was a comforting strength that he latched onto as his friend's hands grasped his own and a familiar voice offered a constant murmur of reassurance.
~ to be continued ~