Jax eased herself into the driver's seat of the Supra; clenching her teeth and refusing to let the hiss of pain at the movement escape. For one brilliant moment she thought that Dillon would hand her the keys, and in the time it took him to step over to his car and get in, she'd have a decent shot of getting away. She watched in frustration as he walked around to the passenger side - only steps away from his own car - and dropped the keys into the floorboard. By the time she retrieved the keys, he'd be behind the wheel.
"What if I just refuse to drive?" Jax asked wearily.
"I roll down my window and shoot you," Dillon answered. "You may as well drive - give yourself the illusion that you can get away."
He jogged the few steps to his car, and had started the engine before Jax even managed to retrieve the keys. Her ribs were aching, her thumb wasn't cooperating, her knee hurt, and the glare of the sun wasn't helping her headache. Still, she'd had much worse.
Dillon was revving his engine.
"Lunatic," Jax mumbled as she started her car. There was no room to turn around, so trying to head in the opposite direction wasn't an option - yet. She'd have to just watch for any available opportunity.
The next ten minutes went by in a blur of speed, smoke, and pain. Every time Jax thought that she might have the slightest edge, or opportunity to turn away from Dillon in a different direction, he would nudge his car just ahead of her and clip her with the bumper. She'd cracked her head solidly on the door frame, and while the seat belt had probably saved her head from crashing into the steering wheel, it had also left vicious bruises.
Jax took a sharp left and caught a glimpse of movement in her rearview mirror. She let out a sob of relief as she recognized a flash of blue, and two dark SUVs, all with flashing lights. Dillon saw it at the same time, and for a few seconds, it was as if someone had pressed pause on the whole universe. She saw him glance in the rear view mirror, level her with a cold gaze, and then look dead ahead . . . where Travis still lay on the ground.
She realized in a split second what Dillon's intention was - as one, final, desperate act, he would exact one more act of revenge. There was no hint of hesitation as Jax floored the Supra and nudged ahead of Dillon, pulling ahead of him on the right. As they came dangerously close to Travis, she turned her car as violently as she could directly in front of Dillon's. There was deafening noise, and sideways movement, and then silence, and stillness.
She had a moment to try to look out the passenger window to see if the impact had pushed her too close to Travis, then she glanced to the left to see Dillon slumped forward over his steering wheel, and then the bright glare of the sun turned into a blinding light, and then blessedly, darkness.
()()()()()()()()
"Steve!" Danny yelled, "he's going for the kid, and she's going to try to intercept."
"I know, Danny, what do you want me to - shit," Steve said, as Jax successfully blocked Dillon by turning her car directly in front of his; the sound of impact, followed by a grinding of gears and brakes, and then - silence.
Steve and Danny leapt out of the Silverado, weapons drawn. Danny stopped at the driver's door of Rivera's car, his gun trained on him, while Steve ran toward the frighteningly damaged Supra.
Chin and Kono were the first to reach Danny. "Go, Danny, we've got him," Chin said, and Danny holstered his weapon and moved toward Steve. Grover had opened the toolbox on the back of Steve's truck and retrieved the bright red medic bag and was racing toward them, Duke on his heels.
"Check the kid," Steve called to Grover and Duke, as he wrenched the driver's door of the Supra open. Jax was motionless, blood steadily dripping from a gash just above her ear, and Steve's hands were shaking as he felt for a pulse. His eyes met Danny's.
"Rapid pulse, shallow breathing," Steve reported.
"Okay, I'll take it for now," Danny said. "Grover, what have you got with the kid?"
"Looks like he's lost a fair bit of blood, but he's hanging in there," Grover called back. "I've got what I need from the pack," he added, pulling out a generous handful of gauze pads and a pressure bandage. "Come get it for Nolan; EMS is about fifteen out still."
Danny trotted around the back of the car and took the bag from Duke's outstretched hand. He moved quickly back to Steve, placing the bag on the ground and opening it up widely.
"Okay, Super SEAL, tell me what you need," he said. He glanced back at Chin and Kono, who were cuffing a disoriented Dillon and shoving him out of the car, face down onto the ground.
Steve was carefully checking Jax's neck, collarbone, and ribs. Images of the first day he met her flitted through his mind . . . she'd been sound asleep on the way home from the airport and Danny had asked him to check for broken bones. She'd grabbed his hand in a bruising grip when he'd pressed on her ribs and . . . ow - Steve looked down at his hand, where Jax had locked onto it.
"Hey, ku'uipo," he said quietly, looking up to see that she had cracked one eye open. He reached up his other hand and brushed the hair away from her face.
"Hey," she rasped out. "Oh, sorry," she added, letting go of his hand.
"Where are you hurt? Anything broken?" he asked, as Danny came and peered over his shoulder.
She held up her other hand, blood smearing from the cut on her palm, and her thumb visibly displaced. "This is killing me," she said. "Fix it?"
"Seriously?" Danny asked. "You look like you've been hit by a car - literally, because you have - and your first item on the agenda is your thumb?"
"You wanna fix it, Danny?" Jax asked irritably. "If not, shut up."
Steve gripped her hand firmly in his. "So," he said, "you'll be glad to know that -"
Jax bit off a sharp cry of pain as Steve expertly reset her thumb mid-sentence.
"Nice technique," she said, through gritted teeth. "What were you saying?"
"Learned it from this kick-ass HPD SWAT medic," he said, holding her hand gently and pressing gauze into the palm, then wrapping it with an elastic bandage. "And I was telling you that Travis is holding on, and EMS is probably - what, Danny, about ten minutes out?" Steve took the thick gauze pads that Danny offered him, and pressed them against the cut.
"If that," Danny said. "You did good, Jax; you saved that kid's life. Which makes you even, actually, since he saved yours."
Jax glanced up at Danny in confusion.
"He called 911 after Dillon shot him," Steve explained.
"He's a good kid," Jax said. "I think he wants out . . . he tried to warn me, tried to keep me away from The Company. We need to help . . . maybe the the motor pool . . . I need to -" Jax broke off and gasped in pain.
"Okay, hold still," Steve soothed. "What is it; what's hurting?"
Jax let out a pained chuckle. "Everything?"
"You think this is funny?" Danny asked, exasperated.
"Danny," Jax said. "I'm just happy." She gave Steve a lopsided grin, and he smiled and stroked a part of her cheek that wasn't bruised.
"Excuse me?" Danny sputtered.
"Think about it, Danny; the last time I tangled with a Rivera brother, it . . . well, it ended badly, with me alone. Look around, Danny. There's six people here who care about me. And I think Kono is about to kick Dillon in the head; you might wanna check on that . . . "
As Danny jogged off to scold Kono and remind her of police procedure, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Jax's hand.
"You gonna be okay?" he asked, shaking his head as he took in the obvious injuries. Her hands were a mess; dark bruises were already visible at the edge of her shirt sleeve and her wrist looked suspiciously swollen. He pressed several thicknesses of gauze over the cut above her ear and secured it with medical tape.
"Yes; take me home, please? I just need a shower and some Motrin," Jax begged.
"Grover has your team on the way with a bus; I think you should let them take you in and get checked out," Steve said, as he carefully unclicked the seat belt and slid it back into place. "Impressive," he said, noting the bruising that the seatbelt had left over her collarbone. His long fingers pressed gently, then drifted up to brush over the bruising on her neck and jaw. Finger marks, again. His eyes darkened, and he looked at Jax questioningly.
"Dillon," she said, then paused. "Maybe Okada? Both, I think . . . it's a little fuzzy. We'll need to get statements, I'll need to -"
"Jax, ku'uipo, hold still, just - wait, Jax, don't try to - " Steve broke off, exasperated. "You are stubborn, you know that?" He gave up and helped her out of the car.
"Travis; I want to check . . . " Jax moved stiffly, bracing her arm against her ribs, as she walked around the back of her car toward Grover and Duke, still bent over Travis on the ground.
Jax gingerly knelt beside him, checking his pulse. "Pulse is thready, and he's clammy . . . he's shocky," she said. She reached for the bag, wincing as every movement aggravated her bruised and battered muscles.
"I got it," Steve said, realizing what she was trying to do He pulled the bag over and carefully raised Travis' legs to rest on it. Jax leaned on the hood of Travis' car and gratefully accepted the water bottle that Steve handed to her. He leaned next to her and gently put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her over to rest against him.
Grover looked up at the sound of approaching sirens. "Hey, our guys are here," he said, smiling at Jax.
"I don't ride in the back of my own bus," Jax said stubbornly.
In the end, she got her way, as it was determined that Travis' gunshot wound and Dillon's loss of consciousness, gave them priority in the two available units. As they sped back to the hospital with their charges, Grover turned to Jax.
"You, young lady, are to go get checked out. That's an order," he added, holding his hand up to silence her protests.
"Grover, I need to place a call to the Governor," Steve said, "could you and Danny get Jax to the ER?"
Grover raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Absolutely, Commander," he said, the turned and gestured to Danny. "Williams, with me."
Steve kissed the top of Jax's head and reluctantly let go of her as Danny wrapped an arm around her waist to help her to Grover's SUV.
"I'll be right behind you," Steve said. "Let me wrap things up with the Governor, so I'll be free to take you home after the ER."
Steve watched as Grover and Danny gently maneuvered Jax into the back of Grover's SUV, her head tucked securely against Danny's shoulder.
"Chin, I'd appreciate it if you and Kono would coordinate with Duke; make sure there's always a uniform on Dillon. As soon as he's released from the hospital he'll be going into custody. Get the paperwork started; murder, attempted murder, assaulting a police officer . . . what am I missing?" Steve asked.
"Attempted vehicular manslaughter," Kono suggested, shaking her head at the wreckage. "I don't know how Jax walked away from that."
Steve stood looking at the mess; two mangled cars, a pool of blood on the ground, broken glass everywhere. He picked up Travis' cell phone, which had been half-covered in discarded sterile packaging from Grover and Duke's initial first aid.
What if . . . his brain whispered quietly.
"Hey, Boss?" Kono interrupted his train of thought. "Need an evidence bag?" She held out an open bag, and he dropped the phone in, automatically, and handed it back to her. He was still looking at it when she signed the bag with a flourish.
"Boss," she said quietly, putting her hand on his arm. "The fact is, Travis did call, and you did get here in time. Okay?"
You were a genius to hire her, his brain informed him, smugly.
()()()()()()()()
"Yes, Governor," Steve said, as he drove toward the hospital. "We do believe that we're going to see increased gang activity and an increase in gang-related crime and violence. I believe we need to be pro-active. Well, my specialty, really, is intelligence and anti-terrorism. I propose we offer Captain Grover a position in Five-O; he and Danny have experience with gang violence, and I believe the situation warrants another officer specifically to target this problem."
Another pause. "Captain Grover and Danny are taking her to the ER as we speak. As far as I know, just a lot of bumps and bruises. Well ma'am, because I wanted to wrap up my report to you first. Thank you, ma'am, I appreciate that. That's . . . well, I can mention it to Officer Nolan, see what she thinks of the idea. Yes, ma'am, Kono has also mentioned that Five-O could use a medic. Absolutely, just let me know of your decision after you've had time to review it. Thank you, ma'am."
()()()()()()()()
Grover and Danny had a decent head start on Steve, and Grover had decided that with Jax's increasing pallor, and Danny's concerned glances at him in the rearview mirror, lights and sirens were the order of the day.
Malia had received a heads up from Chin, and she was waiting for them at the ER entrance with a wheelchair. She shook her head as Danny helped an obviously hurting Jax out of the back of the car; thumping the door after he closed it, so that Grover could continue driving to appropriate parking.
"I don't need the chair," Jax groused, as she and Danny came through the double doors. "I've had much, much worse."
"Do I need to give the hospital policy lecture again?" Malia said, pointing at the seat of the chair.
Jax rolled her eyes, and instantly regretted it, clamping her hand over her mouth.
"I'll take that as a 'yes' to nausea," Malia said, pushing the chair toward a room marked Exam 1. "Danny, we'll be in here, if you want to wait for Steve or have any calls you need to make. Please make sure your team cleans up if you need to . . . don't be spreading germs and scaring my patients. I'll let you know when you can come in to be with Jax."
"Yes, ma'am," Danny said, bending to kiss Jax gently on the cheek. "You okay, babe?"
"I'll be fine, Danny, do what you need to do. Don't let Steve go all -" she broke off and made an expressive gesture with her hands.
()()()()()()()()
Steve arrived and met up with Danny in the hallway.
"Grover is heading back in to HPD to 'brief' Agent Davidson's superior on the situation," Steve explained. "He'll be by to brief Jax tomorrow, get her statement."
"Good," Danny said, "she was looking pretty rough. No, there's no need for panic face - look, here's Malia."
Malia stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. "Okay, well, when Jax admitted that her pain was at an eight and a half on a one to ten scale, I went ahead and gave her a pretty strong narcotic. She was on the verge of shock, which was going to make everything exponentially worse. One slight problem, though; we need to do some tests - strictly routine - and I'll need signed consent, which she is now too medicated to give. Danny, you're still listed as her medical proxy, so if you don't mind?" Malia stepped back into the room.
Danny looked at Steve a bit apologetically, but Steve waved him off.
"Danny, it's fine. You're my medical proxy, too, you know," he said, smiling.
"How fortunate for me," Danny groused. "Medical proxy for the two voted most likely to get injured under any circumstances . . . " He disappeared inside the door, leaving an anxious Steve to lean against the wall outside.
"Hey, rookie," Danny said, as he joined Malia next to Jax's bed. She was uncharacteristically still; the pain medication had kicked in hard and fast, and she was out cold. He had the most overwhelming sense of deja vu - he'd seen Jax in just this scenario, right down to the incredibly disconcerting inky black hair. His heart sank. Jax had come so far since arriving on the island, battered and almost broken. What if this set her back . . . all the way to the last time she tangled with a Rivera brother?
"Danny, the tests are routine, just to rule out abdominal bleeding, and we're going to get portable x-ray in here to check her ribs and a couple other bones - I don't think we're going to find anything. Really, it's just being cautious," Malia assured Danny, concerned at the solemn expression on his face.
"I understand, Malia," he said, scrawling his signature on the forms Malia presented him. "It's just . . . there was a case very similar to this one, back in 2004, in New York. The brother of the man who inflicted today's damage turned his crew loose on her to teach her a lesson . . . " Danny trailed off.
Malia nodded in understanding. "I'm so sorry, Danny. Well, from what Jax said, all of today's injuries were inflicted by a car, so there's at least something to be thankful for. But, you're right to be concerned. This could bring up a lot of memories; and with the pain medication she's sure to need, possibly a lot of confusion. I know she and Steve seem to have their own method of dealing with things -"
"Like swimming to the mainland?" Danny interjected, smiling. "Or blowing something up?"
"Yes, like that," Malia laughed. "But, if either of them need something more, remind them that we have resources, okay?"
"Yeah, got it, Malia," Danny said, signing the last form. "Thanks."
"Now," Malia said, "I'm going to go ahead with the abdominal ultrasound; we don't think there's internal bleeding but the bruising is severe, and some ribs might be cracked, so we need to rule it out just to be safe. This is the easiest and least invasive way to check; if we see anything we'll do a CT." She pulled up a rolling chair and started the procedure, squirting gel on Jax's lower belly.
She looked back up at Danny. "Oh, and I'm sure poor Steve would rather be in here, than pacing in the hallway letting his imagination run wild. You're the proxy, if you say it's okay, it's okay. Go let him in."
Danny went to the door and looked out. Steve had made it all the way down to the end of the hall and was turning to pace back. Danny caught his attention and waved him into the room, and Steve quicktimed it back, and through the door.
He opened his mouth to ask how Jax was doing, just about the time he saw Malia begin to move the ultrasound wand. His knees came dangerously close to just giving up their job altogether, and his lungs were suddenly and spectacularly uncooperative.
Holy shit, his brain offered; as usual, chiming in with a completely unhelpful comment. Holy shit . . . wow . . . please let everything be okay . . .
"Malia?" He croaked out, looking between her and Danny in confusion.
Realization dawned on Danny. "Steve - okay, no, it's also one way they check for abdominal bleeding, which Malia is just ruling out as a precaution. Okay? Come here - Steve," Danny was snapping his fingers in front of Steve's face now, "Steve - ah, yes, hello - okay, I'm going to pull this chair up next to Jax and you're going to sit down, okay?"
"Okay, Danny," Steve nodded cooperatively. His brain was still stuck on please let everything be okay but it was a little less panicked now. He reached over and took Jax's closest hand in his, and was rewarded with a squeeze and a mumble, and Jax turning her head toward him.
"You okay, partner?" Danny asked; he was studying Steve with a guarded expression.
Steve was sure that he'd looked completely and totally poleaxed when he came in the room, and the resulting expression on Danny's face . . . almost like Steve was failing a test . . . "Danny," he said earnestly, "no matter what you think I was thinking . . . no matter what it looked like, I swear to God, I was just wanting everything to be okay. I would never - Danny, I'd be surprised, because we haven't . . . I mean, I've talked to you about kids, but not to Jax . . . but not upset, God, not even disappointed. I just . . . she took such a beating, I mean, look at the bruises . . . I just - I didn't know, you know, if there was - I just didn't know how it could be okay, and -"
"Steve," Danny interrupted. "I know, man. I know . . . we're good, Steve. You don't have to prove anything to me."
"Hey," Jax mumbled, "why does Steve have aneurysm face?" She had managed to open her eyes and turn her head toward them. Sensing Malia's examination of her abdomen, she glanced down. Her eyes widened comically.
"Holy shit," she said. "This isn't where you tell me I've been in a coma and missed something important, is it?"
"No, sweetie, I'm just ruling out abdominal bleeding. You were injured behind the wheel of a car, do you remember?" Malia said, finishing up and wiping everything off, tugging Jax's scrub top back down.
"Yes, Dillon was going to run over - Travis -" Jax said, struggling to sit up. "How is he?"
Danny used the controls to raise the head of the bed slightly. "Hold still, Jax . . . I'll go see if I can get a report, ok?"
Jax blinked owlishly at Danny. "Okay. Good. Find out about the engine, too, please."
Danny paused. "Um, babe? The engine?"
"On the Supra," Jax explained, as if to a very small child.
"Ohh-kay," Danny said. Jax had closed her eyes again, satisfied with sending Danny on his mission. Steve shrugged; he wasn't entirely sure what Jax was on about, but at this rate, she might not even remember asking.
Malia looked up from checking her pager as Danny went out the door. "Radiology will be a little while yet with the portable x-ray, so I'm going to go ahead and close this cut over your ear, Jax." Cleaning the wound carefully, Malia considered her options. "I'm going to use surgical glue," she said. "Looks like a clean cut - glass?" Jax didn't answer; she had drifted off again
Steve nodded. "That's my guess. The driver side window shattered on impact."
Malia shook her head. "She got off fairly easy then, all things considered. Surgical glue will mean that she can shower. And swim, when she's feeling up to it," she added. She deftly applied the surgical glue and pressed the edges of the wound together. When she was satisfied with the result, she taped a bandage in place. "She can take this off when she showers, after she gets home. Shouldn't be any trouble - of course, she'll know how to handle it should it open again."
"Thanks, Malia," Steve said, brushing the hair away from Jax's face.
A knock on the door announced the arrival of radiology, and the technician efficiently shot x-rays of Jax's ribs and the wrist and forearm that Malia wanted double checked.
"If you could push those through quickly," Malia said to the technician, "we would certainly appreciate it. This officer has had a terribly long day, and these reports will be the last of what we need before we can get her home."
"Absolutely, Dr. Waincroft," the tech said. "I'll send you a text message just as soon as we've read the x-rays."
Jax mumbled indistinctly and forced her eyes open again. "Hey," she said, trying to focus on Steve.
"Hey yourself," he said, smiling at her. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I'm ready to go home, shower, and sleep for a week," she admitted. "I suspect I have some good stuff floating around in my system."
"You do indeed," Malia confirmed, "and I want you to keep it floating in your system for at least twenty-four hours. I think x-ray is going to confirm that nothing is broken, so all in all, you're in remarkably good shape for someone who blocked another car with their own. That said, you have bruises that probably go to the bone." Malia glanced up at Steve. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you how incredibly painful that is, regardless of how benign "bruise" sounds."
She didn't need to tell him; Steve had experienced that sort of injury more than once, and he remembered thinking that a simple broken bone would have been a lot less painful. "I'll make sure she stays on her meds for at least a day," he assured Malia.
Danny slipped quietly into the room, smiling when he saw Jax awake. "Travis is in surgery; they are doing some repair, but they expect a full recovery."
"Good," Jax said, sinking back into her pillow in relief. "Wait, what about Dillon? Is he in this hospital?" She struggled to sit up. "Travis might need a uniform on him when he gets out . . . Dillon is going to -"
Steve gently pressed her shoulders back. "Stand down, Jax. They took Dillon to Tripler; security is tighter there. Grover has a unit on him. Duke is going to keep a couple uniforms on Travis, okay?"
Jax studied him a moment. "Is Travis going to be under arrest?" she asked quietly.
Steve shook his head. "I doubt it; he called 911 to get help for you; he tried to warn you, even. I think we can work with him, work something out."
As Jax nodded in relief, Mala's phone buzzed.
"Ah, radiology," she said, scrolling through the information. "Excellent report - no broken bones. You may possibly have a hairline fracture of the left ulna; so we're going to give you a splint that you can wear for support and protection; you can take it off for showers and such. No swimming for about a week, though, just to be safe."
Jax sighed. "It figures. I live in the most beautiful place in the world, steps away from the ocean, and I keep getting banned from swimming. Sucks."
"I'll keep you company, babe," Danny said sympathetically. "I'll sit with you and we'll drink coffee and watch the super SEAL swim."
Jax blinked up at Danny. "I like coffee," she said earnestly. "I like watching Steve swim, too," she added. "Very much." She frowned, and glanced at Malia. "Malia," she said plaintively, "it's happening again. Those stupid drugs broke my filter."
Malia finished securing the splint on Jax's arm, and laughed. "Well, Commander, you can take her home now," she said, smirking at Steve. "And she's due for another dose in . . . four hours," she said, checking the chart. "Have fun with that. I'll go tell the staff to start the paperwork."
()()()()()()()()
Danny, Steve, and of course, Jax, were thoroughly exhausted by the time Steve parked the truck in front of his house. The streets were dark and quiet as they'd driven home; Danny in the back seat with Jax propped as comfortably as possible - which was, really, not very - and Steve trying to avoid potholes.
Steve opened the back door, handed the keys over to Danny, and gently pulled Jax from the truck, cradling her against him. She mumbled sleepily and nestled her head into the crook of his neck. Danny went ahead of them, unlocking and then holding the door open. After they were all inside the house, Danny put the keys on the side table and turned as if to leave.
"I'll, ah, just -" he started.
"Danny," Steve said, "hey, man - grab the good Scotch, pour us a round, yeah? Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back down in ten minutes. Just stay, okay? Besides," he added, grinning, "your car isn't here."
Danny nodded and shuffled tiredly to the guest room, as Steve headed up the stairs, still carrying Jax easily in his arms. Danny grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom - he'd forgo his usual long, hot shower so as to make sure Jax didn't run out of hot water, but he was tired, and sore, and filthy, so a shower was definitely going to happen.
By the time he'd finished, and poured the drinks Steve had requested, he heard his friend and partner padding quietly down the stairs. His hair was still damp, and he'd thrown on gym shorts and a tshirt.
Steve collapsed on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Danny patted him sympathetically on the shoulder and shoved his drink closer to him.
"Rough day at the office, yeah?" Danny said quietly.
Steve groaned and sat up, reaching for his tumbler. Danny noticed that his hand was shaking - minutely, to be sure, but shaking.
"Hey, big guy," Danny said, bending around to look Steve in the eye. "She's okay. Upstairs, tucked in safe and sound, no doubt, in your bed. Which is, I must say, still a disturbing image that I try to keep out of my brain."
Steve took a long sip of his scotch.
"He played us, Danny," he said, rubbing his eyes. "He played all of us, but damn it, he manipulated her . . . and I let him."
"Okay, take off the hair shirt, Steven," Danny said, refilling their glasses. "For starters - mentally unstable Homeland Security agent. No one saw that coming. Secondly - despite frequently working cases together, Jax answers to Grover and HPD SWAT."
Steve sighed. "Yeah, about that. Danny, you're the only member of Five-O who really has experience with this sort of wave of gang activity. I've asked the governor to consider allowing me to make a job offer to Grover. What would you think?"
Danny sipped his drink, and thought about that for a moment. "I think it could work," he answered, nodding slowly. "What about . . . "
"Jax?" Steve sighed. "I don't know, Danny. The governor implied - has implied, more than once - that she'd authorize a position for Jax in Five-O."
"But you don't want that?" Danny asked.
"What? Not - Danny, I would . . ." Steve paused, took a deep breath. "I want to keep her safe, Danny. That's all. But I don't know if she'd go for the idea. She's really independent; wants to make it on her own merits."
"Hey," Danny said, "Relax, big guy. It will work out, yeah?"
Steve nodded, and clinked his glass against Danny's. "Yeah. Yeah," he said, more confidently, "it will. Thanks, man." He stood and stretched, spine popping. "I'm beat, Danny; I'm gonna turn in. Jax is due for another dose of meds before too long."
"Hey, would you mind if I . . . gotta admit, Steve, when she turned in front of Rivera today, I think it took another five years off my life. Can I just give a quick check on her? I know she's probably out of it," Danny said.
"You don't have to explain, Danny, of course," Steve said. "I'll clean up down here, go on up."
Steve waited until Danny was half-way up the stairs, and then added, "And you're right, she's all tucked in safe and sound into my bed . . . " He smirked; it was just too easy, he couldn't pass it up.
Danny flipped him off without looking back as he went up the stairs. He slipped into the bedroom quietly. The room was cast in a dim glow from a lamp on the dresser just inside the room. Danny was taken aback, again, by the sight of Jax's hair spread on the pillow. Memories of her tangled undercover op in New York came flooding back to him. This time, though, when he pulled a chair up - no way was he trying to crouch next to the bed, he'd already tweaked his knee today - she didn't turn away from him.
"Hey, babe," he whispered, and brushed her hair away from her face. It was still the very-wrong color, but still damp and thankfully free from the blood that had matted it after the wreck.
She blinked at him in confusion. "Danny?"
"Yeah, honey," he answered, brushing the back of his hand carefully over her bruised cheek.
She tried to sit up and hissed in pain. "Holy shit," she gritted out. Despite the obvious pain, she tried to sit up again.
"Babe. What the hell are you doing?" Danny fussed.
"I need to hit the head," Jax said.
"Hit the . . . so now you're in the Army, too?" Danny rolled his eyes. "You want me to, um, get Steve?"
"No," Jax said quickly and emphatically. "Just . . . help me, would you, please? And it's the Navy, Danny, the Navy."
Danny tried, and failed, to help Jax sit up without hurting her, and finally just gave up and scooped her up out of the bed and set her gently on her feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist and was surprised at how willing she was to lean on him the few steps to the bathroom.
"Thanks, Danny, I got it from here," she said, as she went into the bathroom, still half bent over, her arm wrapped protectively around her ribs. Danny heard some thuds and a few muffled curses.
"You okay in there?" he called through the door.
"Remember the bruised kidney?" he heard her reply. "I think I tweaked it. I'm okay."
Danny winced. He'd had a bruised kidney once . .. he'd pissed blood for a week. Jax had sustained a severely bruised kidney weeks ago, the day of Gracie's field trip.
"Yeah, babe, I remember mine, too," he said. "You sure you're okay?"
He heard a whimper. "Yeah," Jax replied wearily. A few minutes later, Danny heard the sound of flushing and then water running in the sink. Jax emerged, wiping toothpaste from her mouth with the back of her hand.
Danny opened his arms and Jax shuffled to him, leaning against his broad chest. He wrapped his arms around her carefully. "Thanks, Danny," she mumbled.
"Any time," he said. "Except, you know, please not anytime again soon."
She nodded her head against his chest, and he heard her breath hitch in a muffled sob.
"Babe?" he asked, alarmed.
"I'm sorry, Danny," she said, brokenly, "I couldn't . . . the case . . . my cover was compromised by Davidson, and I didn't get anything useful. It was for nothing. Travis got shot, Davidson said there was a girl who'd been taken, and I got nothing; not on Okada, not on Rivera. Danny, I don't have a single lead and that poor girl -" she broke off with a sob.
"Oh, Jax, honey," Danny said, "we didn't tell you . . . I'm so sorry . . . Kono found her, babe. She'd had a fight with her mom; she was safe the whole time, at a friend's house. She's home, she's safe." Danny had to tighten his grip on Jax, as her knees went literally weak with relief.
"Danny," she sighed, "Thank God. You're sure? She's really okay?"
"Absolutely positive, babe," Danny said.
Jax tried, and failed, to bite off a whimper. Her hands fisted in Danny's shirt, and her breathing hitched again.
"Hey, what is it?" he asked, rubbing her shoulders gently. "Jax?" he asked, with growing alarm, as her breathing became unsteady.
"I'm just . . . oh, shit, Danny, it hurts so bad . . . " Jax said, her breathing still shallow and rapid.
Danny heard Steve's quiet footfalls on the stairs. "Steve," he called, "did you say it was close to time for -" he stopped as Steve appeared in the doorway, with a water bottle in one hand and two prescription bottles in another.
"Yeah, it is," Steve said, putting the items on the dresser. "Why, is -" he broke off as he caught sight of Jax, lifting her head wearily from Danny's chest. She was shockingly pale, her eyes tense with pain. "Ku'uipo . . . what's wrong?" he demanded. "Should I call Malia? Do you need to go back to the hospital?"
"No," she said, waving her hand dismissively, though she still clung to Danny with her free hand. "Nothing new, nothing broken . . . just . . . I don't think I've ever, ever hurt this badly. Broken bones and lacerations don't hurt this bad." Danny steered her to the chair that he'd pulled next to the bed and gently eased her down, as Steve grabbed the water and prescriptions. Jax groaned in relief. "I've never thought I would be so happy to see those stupid painkillers. Wait . . . oh my Lord . . . is this because I'm pushing thirty?"
Steve and Danny exchanged bemused glances as Steve tipped out several different pills into Jax's palm, and handed her the water bottle. She tossed them back gratefully.
"Brat," Danny said affectionately. "Remind us of how ancient we are, will ya? Babe, you were in a serious, serious MVA today. Now, it's a miracle, and a wonder, that you don't have multiple broken bones, or worse - and I'll take it, I'm thankful - but you're going to be feeling the results of that impact for a good while, I'm afraid." Danny kissed her on the top of the head, and then hesitated - this was where he usually tousled her hair, but it looked so un-Jax-like that it threw him. Steve caught a glimpse of hurt on Jax's face, and she dropped her eyes. He tilted his head at Danny, and as usual, his partner read his almost imperceptible signal, nodded, and reached down to gently ruffle his hands through her hair. "Behave yourself," he said, "and get some rest. Grover will be by tomorrow to brief you."
"I can come in to give a statement," Jax said stubbornly.
"No, because you can't drive, and I'm not driving you," Steve said mildly.
"Okay, I'm going to my room before this becomes an epic battle of wills," Danny said, chuckling. "See you in the morning."
Steve smacked Danny affectionately on the shoulder, then turned his attention to Jax. He crouched by the chair and traced his index finger over the bruises on her cheek. "The pills should kick in soon," he said quietly. "I'm sorry the last dose wore off . . . I'll set my alarm for a little closer together next time."
"It's okay," she said. "I didn't intend to take them again."
"Jax," Steve said, "you need to stay on top of the pain, okay? Don't try to tough it out; it's pointless. Besides, you can be quite entertaining . . . "
She smacked him in the chest, wincing when her injured hand made contact. He wrapped her hand effortlessly in his and kissed it. He stood and straightened the covers on the bed, turning them back, and fluffing up the pillow. "Do you need something to eat? Drink?" he asked.
Jax shook her head. "I think I just want to go back to sleep," she admitted. "But what about Dillon? Shouldn't you be questioning him? Don't you need to . . . you know . . . " she gestured broadly with her hand, reminding Steve of Danny.
"The only thing I need to do is make sure you're okay," he assured her. "Dillon is still in the hospital; he's not going anywhere."
"The case is not going anywhere," she said morosely.
"Jax," Steve said, running his hand through his hair in frustration, "we're going to have to investigate, of course, but I'm starting to think there never was a case. We've got a big problem with increased gang activity, but as far as a specific, buildable case? I think Davidson was manipulating the data." He hesitated, trying to figure out how much to reveal while Jax was exhausted and obviously starting to feel the effects of the painkillers. "Jerry looked into his history at Homeland; there were some red flags. We'll go over all of it when you're feeling a little better, okay?"
Jax looked at him skeptically, and started to demand more answers, but her intentions were cut short with a yawn.
"Sleep?" Steve suggested.
She nodded and flinched as she tried to push herself up out of the chair. Steve bent and picked her up easily, holding her against him for a moment before he carefully lowered her to the mattress. He tucked the light blanket around her and ran his fingers through her hair, careful to avoid the freshly repaired laceration. She sighed and closed her eyes. He crossed the room and started to turn off the low lamp.
"Can you . . . can it stay on?" Jax asked hesitantly, quietly. She hated asking. It felt like an admission of every kind of weakness. But she hated even more the idea of waking up and not knowing, with absolute certainty, where she was.
"Of course, ku'uipo," Steve murmured.
Jax felt the mattress behind her dip with Steve's weight; then his hand was wrapped carefully around her shoulder, soft kisses pressed to the back of her neck. She started to relax; painful muscles loosening with the painkillers kicking in.
"It was a really, really nice car . . . " she mumbled.
"Hmm?" Steve asked, not sure where she was going with this.
"The Supra," she said, half-asleep. "How bad was it? Did it crack the engine block?"
Steve chuckled. "We'll ask, okay? Tomorrow. We'll ask, tomorrow."
()()()()()()()()