MV CHAPTER 36: No Gun, No Badge, No Authority

Creeping daylight meant it would soon be time for breakfast, then a walk down the halls, some physical therapy and medication…

Danny yawned and stretched out, reaching for the metal bars behind his head to pull himself up. The tips of his fingers thumped the wall, but no metal. His eyes cracked open and his heart leaped into his mouth. This wasn't right, they'd moved him. Somehow, overnight, probably when medicated, he'd been moved to another ward!

Ward? No that wasn't right, where there should have been whitewash there was an enormous painting floating in front of him and even in the semi-darkness with the curtains pulled he recognized the blend of brilliant oranges, burnt umber and scarlet that gradually congealed into the form of a half-naked Polynesian girl, dressed only in a colorful loin cloth, semi-prostrate on what appeared to be golden sand. He couldn't see her face, just the long black hair draped across her profile, the shapely brown arms and soft, full breast that dipped into the sand. He knew her immediately as a friend, she was a print of Gaugin's `Otahi', also known by the title `Alone', Danny had nicknamed her `Okahi' from the Hawaiian word Ho'okahi which meant the same thing and it couldn't have been more appropriate to wake up to in his state of mind. Okahi had been left by the previous owner of the apartment when he moved there and, though not exactly to his taste, he didn't have the heart to leave her on her own again.

He was home. He knew it now and with that thought came a certain amount of trepidation. With no idea what the time was he reached over to the nightstand and squinted at his watch - six thirty-two am, he had slept through the night with no artificial help and no nightmares he could recall since Steve had woken him up. He felt refreshed and, although anxious, there was a serenity in the painting that relaxed him. He always thought if he had been the artist he would have depicted her with a frangipane flower in her flowing hair, like many of the Hawaiian women he knew. For some reason an image of Nurse Kakahi came to mind - Taisha – and he smiled to himself, wondering if he should re-name his nubile beauty in her honor.

These were all good thoughts he reflected and was delighted to note they stayed firmly planted in his head instead of drifting away as all previous ones had, only to be replaced by horrors.

Six thirty-five now - perhaps McGarrett was still there. He was sure he would have woken him up if he was about to leave but then, if the positions were reversed he would have let his friend sleep. If the positions were reversed; now there was a thought! What would he be able to do for Steve if it had been him that had walked in on those men that day? Would McGarrett have done so in the first place without back-up, perhaps deflated the situation before it got out of hand? He was a tall man – would his stature have given them pause for thought rather than attack him? Probably, the answer came back and all good thoughts flew from Danny's mind, to be replaced by his former feelings of inadequacy, guilt and, he hated to admit - a certain amount of envy.

Growling angrily he threw off the disheveled bed covers and eased himself off the bed with less speed than he had hoped. He was still suffering from the physical after-effects of his injuries and whilst his mind provided him with the mental energy to launch an assault on the morning, his body responded with opposing lethargy. He felt like an old man.

He had no incentive to look outside, cared less what the day was like and simply wanted to get the next part of his ordeal over with. Shedding the skin of the past would be harder than Steve thought. He was drawn to the wall instead and touched the painting with his fingertips, tracing an outline around the bold figure, finger lingering over her hidden profile. There was no doubt she was an exotic young creature but it bothered him that he couldn't see her face. Was she hiding, scared, upset or simply bored? He didn't know but he wished he understood her story.

He wondered what had become of the artist's model; was she a brief moment in time caught in Post-impressionistic oil or something more permanent in Gaugin's life? Otaki stared into the distance, unaware she was the subject of such scrutiny.

Danny sighed and dropped his hand. Clouds had gathered dispersing all signs of Spring in his demeanor and he wanted to blow them all away. He hoped McGarrett was still there; he needed the company.

Without bothering to find a robe, he fumbled with the buttons on his pajama top, automatically closing them to the very top. Peeking first through the crack in the door to see he wasn't disturbing his house guest he padded out to the living area barefooted.

The smile that met him was genuine and Williams felt some of the melancholy lift with the glass of fresh orange that was pressed into his hands and the obvious affection flowing from his friend. "Morning Danno, how did you sleep?" McGarrett was dressed and making himself busy in the kitchen buttering some toast.

"Oh thanks." Dan replied as he grabbed the chilled drink. "I guess I slept okay, so far as I remember…" He sipped the juice, the cold trickling down the back of his throat and lubricating his body as it went, sharp citrus acting like an alarm clock on his system.

"You want toast and coffee or something else? I can make you bacon, eggs and waffles if you like, I think Kono stocked you out."

Toast, coffee, bacon, eggs, waffles…real food! His stomach growled with the smells the words conjured up and his mouth began salivating. Could he decide? Was he allowed such rich fare with his stomach the way it was? He barely remembered what decision making was like; bacon…eggs…

"Hey bruddah, you fallen asleep on me?" Steve peered at him through a stray dark brown bang that flopped over his blue eyes.

"What? Sorry, no…I mean yes I'd love something like that but only if it's not too much trouble." He thought for a moment and added, "But don't you want to go jogging instead Steve? It's pretty late in the morning for you."

"That's okay, I ought to have plenty of exercise leaping around the office today. Jenny seems determined to make me run from appointment to appointment nowadays. With no one else to do it I need two of me just to cope!"

Dan's face fell. HE was the one who would normally back up McGarrett, that's why he was employed; take the burden off the boss, field calls, be his eyes and ears at meetings to free him up, run around for him, do the leg work and be the confidante he needed. He was useless like this and Steve was paying the penalty.

McGarrett saw the crestfallen look appear and knew he'd stepped on a miniature land mine again, he ought to take more care around Williams until things were back to normal, "God Danno I didn't mean it to come out like that. It's not that bad, honestly. I can cope until you return to work. It's just..you're invaluable."

Danny moved to the table and sat down, ignoring the praise. "That's okay. I should be the one to apologize, I know it's tough on you and not being able to come back sooner is frustrating for us both. I want to, truly I do but you said yourself you need me cleared before I can return to duty - which hopefully will be soon."

McGarrett decided to let it go, he couldn't give reassurances where there were none. "Let's forget I ever mentioned it. Come on, I'll make you something to eat. Want to wash up while I do? It won't be long."

"Sure." Recognizing the end of the discussion Dan nodded, drank down the remnants of the orange and retreated to the bathroom to refresh himself.

******

Breakfast was delicious and despite his earlier faux pas Steve responded easily and concisely to Williams' questions about current cases, trying not to give the impression he was brushing Danny off with no details but at the same time careful not to upset the sidelined detective with too much information about things he would never be involved in. He felt the interest pouring off him when discussing their work and yet again missed his second-in-command's input. Williams had a keen intellect and his involvement was sorely missed.

After a companionable repast they cleared away and reluctantly McGarrett announced he had to go. If he wasn't careful it would be a late start for him and he had much too much to do without compounding the problem by easing his worry staying with Danny.

"What will you do today Danno?" Steve asked as he paused on the threshold of the apartment and examined his friend's face for signs of anxiety.

"I don't know, not much to do around here."

Steve patted his shoulder, "Look, it's not easy for you but try to get some rest. I know you think it's enforced and in some ways it is but it's also in your best interests if you want to come back to work sooner rather than later." He turned to leave, hating the fact that he had to go but not letting it show.

"Sure. See you later." A few seconds later however Dan called McGarrett back, stealing a few more moments in the older man's company, "Steve?!"

"Yeah Danno?" McGarrett twisted around on his heels, not keen to witness the lost look on Williams' face or let his own concern slip beneath the mask.

When it came down to it Danny couldn't say what was really inside him – didn't dare let his friend see the wounds in his soul, he licked his lips and his gaze briefly dropped toward the carpet, hoping that Steve wouldn't know how tempted he was to ask him to stay. He could do this…he would survive this ordeal and with it regain his self-respect. "Thanks for breakfast."

"You're welcome but for that I'll expect dinner to be on the table when I get back!" He grinned and was rewarded by a truly warm smile from Williams that delighted him.

*******

Dan couldn't help watching for Steve's car as it exited the grounds. He felt a tightness in his chest he couldn't easily explain when the Mercury disappeared from view but had to get on with it.

Most of the next half hour he spent puttering about; moving things that he felt ought to be placed elsewhere, throwing out the old newspapers he couldn't bear to view and just staring into space or his ice box.

The day was stunning outside and he suddenly longed to be in the fresh air. He contemplated taking the company car that Steve told him was parked downstairs in case he needed it but felt more like ambling than driving. Looking at the cane tucked in a corner by the door he decided to soak up some sunshine and go for a walk. His legs were stiff, as was his back, but that was lack of exercise for two days - he needed to move his muscles.

He changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, slipped his keys into his back pocket, took a couple of painkillers to deaden what he knew would be due to him after exertion and stepped outside the door.

He could walk much better now that his big toe was almost knitted but he still avoided putting pressure on it and couldn't help limping after standing around for too long. The fracture had been a bad one and it was still causing him pain from time to time, he mostly walked on the side of his foot, straining back and spine in the process. Danny leaned on the cane and pressed the button to go down. His jaw clenched as he watched the numbers rise and his foot tapped on the floor, irritated for no reason he could fathom.

When it reached his level the door pinged open and he jumped - inside was a man dressed in black leathers with a motorcycle helmet on, the visor down over his face. Danny swallowed a lump in his throat and it was only when the man flipped up the reflective plastic that he recognized his neighbor's grandson, Shelby, who usually called to get his elderly relative's shopping list for the week. "Hey Mister Williams long time no see, how's it hanging?" The young man asked as he stepped out of Danny's way.

"Er..hi Shelby," Was all Dan could manage before the kid was gone, completely disinterested in how the detective actually was. "I'm…fine." He finished quietly to the retreating man's back and shook his head. There was the feeling of being `old' again; when younger men couldn't care less about anything but the current thing and men Williams' age - could.

He stepped inside the metal box and rode to the ground floor feeling faintly claustrophobic. The trip lasted less than a minute but felt longer as he stared at the four walls.

At last the door opened and he moved through the hallway to the glass exit wondering which way to go. If he took a trip to the right of the block he would pass gardens and houses, to the left - shops and businesses. He opted for the gardens and began to stroll using the cane to relieve the pressure on his toe. Chad Jones had a theory for why it was taking such a long time for the bone to heal, he told Danny he believed that a part of him didn't want it to get better, that he was hugging the damage close to him like a war wound and considered it part of his `punishment' for allowing Ray Kaika to rape him. Danny said it was rubbish, until Jones reminded him that his brain had already tricked him once by causing him to lose his memory. After that the officer didn't contradict him again, he merely accepted that part of his unconscious was going to put up a fight rather than give himself permission to release the pain.

As he walked along, self-consciously hunching in on himself rather than his normal head-held-high posture, he knew Jones was right in so many ways and hated both of them for it but himself most of all. He didn't look at people as he passed them but noted they way they stared at him from the corner of his eye, he knew it was the cane they were looked at but somehow his mind convinced him they were judging him – top to bottom - head to toe, assessing what they saw and concluding who-knew-what about him. He found the paranoia ridiculous and tried hard to utilize the tricks his psychiatrist taught him to change his mood around. It took a while but eventually began to work.

There was a dislocated beauty in the world around him and the further he walked the less populated it got and the more relaxed he became, shedding the self-flagellating and paranoid thoughts like leaves in the Fall. Unwilling at first, he soon began to breathe deeply and enjoy the smells and sounds of his paradise home - he could even detect the faint traces of salt in the air and longed for the feel of a surf board under him, the smell of wax and the power of the waves curling around his body. He couldn't wait to get back to his beloved ocean, perhaps even more than Five-0, and wanted to pit his abilities against the Banzai Pipeline once more; muscles pushing against powerful fleeting grottoes of turquoise and white, twisting with them to their destination and covering himself with tingling spray before diving through the waves to shore.

Danny sighed - just thinking about it made him determined to do his best at the counseling session the next day. He wanted his life back so badly it was like a gnawing ache in his gut.

Breathing deeply, he stopped for a moment and looked to the fair-weather sky where a swathe of azure blue festooned with cirrus clouds lazily drifted high above where he stood. Life was a miracle of contradictions, counterpoints and balances – here he was, at ground level, baking in the warm sunshine where a chilled beer would soon turn warm and yet thousands of feet above him ice crystals were packed into wisps of white and yet they were closer to the sun than he was! It was truly a strange and enchanting world.

Dan moved on, still marveling at the sights and sounds but beginning to enjoy himself more than he could have hoped. It was good to feel free again and let new thoughts populate his mind after stagnating for so long.

As he turned a corner he found himself on one of the better streets in the neighborhood, large modern detached properties with manicured front lawns lined both sides of the wide road leading up to a dead end which backed onto a stand of native trees and pedestrian access to a public park. He decided to stroll in that direction and find himself somewhere to perch and rest. All was quiet; everyone, it appeared, having either gone to work or out enjoying the Tropical day.

Stepping from sunshine to shade made him shiver, the buildings dissecting the rays of the giant gold orb and casting shadows on the sidewalk. As he made the decision to cross the road back into the warming light a movement caught his eye and he paused. At the far end of the street where the last property backed onto the park, someone was walking up and down along the side passage, half-hidden by bushes. Danny was instantly suspicious of what looked at first glance to be a youth casing the place. The cop in him was singing and he decided to take a closer look, instinct clouding all sense.

Staying on the shadier side, he stuck close to the fence line trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. There was definitely something going on. The lack of observers and proximity to the park would give someone the perfect opportunity to break and enter.

From his steadily closing distance he could see the person was just a kid, no more than sixteen or seventeen. It was hard to see what he looked like because of a red baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes but a shock of dark hair draped his neck. Not seeing anyone else, Danny decided to give a warning before he witnessed anything more serious than trespassing. Afterwards he would find a pay phone and call it in, just in case.

"Hey kid!" he shouted, and surprised himself with the strength of his own voice.

The boy leaped about a foot in the air and turned on him, face a picture of shock. He was Chinese and, Dan noted to his satisfaction, he was correct about his age; late teens, no older. He walked up to the pristine wooden fence and peered over the side. "This your house?" he asked casually, feeling confident his first assessment was correct but wanting the youth to speak for himself.

The kid's eyes narrowed and Williams felt him sizing him up. Danny was a good eight inches taller than the wiry boy and weighed a lot heavier, nevertheless his head was spinning with possible scenarios but he kept his voice calm, controlled and authoritative. He could do this. This was what he became a policeman for; to stop things from happening, not mop up the pieces after the crime had been committed. In some ways he missed the beat for that very reason.

"So mista, what's it to you?" The kid's eyes darted to the right, Danny noticed it and wasn't sure why but he felt less confident all of a sudden.

"Oh, just wondering why you're not in class." Dan said, his eyes automatically checking the opposite side of the house for any sign of accomplices.

The youngster struck a nonchalant pose and scoffed,"Yeah well it's my day off see. Anyways I don't need to ansa to no busy body I gotta right to be here!"

Danny wasn't fazed by the casual demeanor, he could sense something was wrong and it was making him fractious."Maybe you have, and maybe you haven't. I'd like to see you open the door if you do live here. Got a key?"

The boy shrugged and pushed the cap back off his face, affording Williams a fine view of his features which he noted carefully. The oriental shrugged. "My friend lives here, he should be home anytime, I'm waiting for him."

Danny carefully sidled up to the gate, his cane clicking against the fence. "Oh I see, then you won't mind if I just wait out here and see you're okay. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you so close to the park, this place isn't the safest you know."

The boy looked genuinely perplexed, trying to assimilate what Williams had just said. When he did reply he spoke louder than before, like he was warning someone, "Wha'? How would you know? Are you a COP mista?!"

When the boy raised his voice on the word `cop' all the hackles rose on the back of Danny's neck and he felt his pulse begin racing. He also saw something slip down the kid's sleeve and drop into his hand, it was a tire iron. Now he could smell trouble and his heart was pounding hard in his chest. From out of the shadows two large figures appeared and walked towards him. Together the three formed an unlikely alliance.

"Trouble?" One of the men said; they were still young, maybe early twenties but husky, tall surfer types with broad chests and a heavy musculature. One was haole with a shock of strawberry blond hair over his ears that looked unwashed and a smattering of freckles across his broad nose; the other was Hawaiian with thick wiry black hair who looked like an aspiring body builder. Both rough men had large lead pipes in their hands and whilst they weren't hefting them, it was clear they would use them if threatened. One had a holdall over his shoulder that presumably carried any gear they needed to effect entry into the building.

The boy he could cope with, but three of them was another story. They stared at him menacingly, like a bug about to be squashed and as they moved towards him as one man he felt himself transported to another time and another place and he thought he would be sick with the memories cruelly thrust into his mind.

Danny couldn't help himself, he took several steps backwards, feeling like he had already been hit. He loathed himself for what he was starting to feel; his body was going into panic mode, all his muscles tensing and cramping in preparation for action. Fight or flight, he wanted to RUN! It was almost the exact replica of how he felt in the Kaika's garage but he forced himself to stay put, his head shouting it was okay, his heart telling him to get the hell out of there.

The blond suddenly laughed, "Can't be a cop, he's scared. Look at him!"

The Hawaiian agreed and slapped the younger kid on the back, "Yeah, if he was a pig he'd have a gun and a badge! He ain't a problem, just a squeaky mouse. Let's get on with it and get outta here. I'm getting hungry."

"He could still go to the cops, shouldn't we stop him? I'd like that." The Chinese kid said, swinging the tire iron with unerring accuracy from left to right and revealing a set of large pearly white teeth that would shame a shark. He moved to the gate, passing the tool from hand to hand and back again; back and forth back and forth, each time with more passion than before.

Dan was mesmerized by the movement of the would-be weapon in the boy's hand and his wrist started to throb with remembered pain.
Speak Danny…say something. He was urging himself to make some kind of move, talk to them, warn them, do SOMETHING. He was frozen immobile by the sheer terror of what had happened to him the last time he was surrounded by strangers, the last time he tried to be a good cop and blundered into the middle of something he couldn't control. It was happening again, or had the potential to. He felt nauseous, the headache that had become so much a part of his existence blasted back with full force and he screwed up his eyes against the painful glare of the day.

He looked around to see if anyone was around to help, or witness, what was going on. No one - the street was clear. What would McGarrett do? THINK Williams! No gun, no badge, no authority. They outnumbered him three against one. Just youths he tried to tell himself, just opportunistic kids! No real threat, but he knew differently, they were armed and he wasn't and they had been caught about to commit a crime, they hadn't much to lose from attacking him, or worse if they wanted. His throat closed up, drying out completely and he prayed his body wouldn't betray him in any other way or risk more ridicule.

"Look whoever you are old man either get out of our way and leave our business to US or we deal with you right here and now. So beat it and save yourself some pain!"

Why didn't he tell them he was a police officer? Why didn't the words `Five-0' spew forth from his lips? Reality or nightmare - which was this? Why did he just stare at them?! Questions but no answers - except one..he couldn't speak because of what had happened to him before:

"Back off! I'm a police officer!"

"We know piggy!"

"Will he squeal I wonder?"

"Cops like him put me away, I ain't letting this one go without payback!"

"I'm gonna enjoy this cop.

He wasn't a coward. McGarrett had told him that time and time again when he was recovering and couldn't remember who he was. He wasn't…or was he? Had the assaults made him cowardly? How could he not have the words to speak to a group of kids who were potential criminals? Wasn't that his job?

Danny's only response was to limp back further from the fence biting his lip, his palms sweating.

The Chinese boy howled with laughter.

"YELLOW FREAK!" the strawberry blond shouted and Danny flinched.

"Go on, clear off!" The tall islander added and threw the lead pipe at Williams. The hard metal spun through the air and caught him right in the center of his chest knocking the breath out of him, making him stagger backward and bringing tears to his eyes. It bruised his flesh and his ego but at least the pain shocked him back into action. He needed to find a phone. If he said anything more they might come for him or leg it; if he said nothing but phoned it in maybe HPD could catch them. He couldn't have any more to do it with it - he had done his best and was petrified of what could happen if he caused more trouble.

Hands grasping, pushing him down, spreading his legs…"I'm gonna enjoy this cop!"

He turned away, hand rubbing his sternum, grateful he hadn't fallen on his ass as well. He wanted his gun, he wanted to shoot something, some one – maybe even himself. Ordinarily he would have been all over them like a rash, reading them their rights and buttoning down the area as fast as anything. Normally he would have been in control. Normally….but he was anything BUT normal.

He was shaking like a leaf and on the verge of collapse; memories his own worst enemy.

"That's right, run curly! Run like the chick….chick…chicken you are pwok pwok pwok!"

All three burst into gales of laughter as Danny picked up speed, moving as fast as he could without actually running. He felt something connect agonizingly with the back of his head and his toe jarred awkwardly against the sidewalk. One of them had launched the other pipe and end over end it had connected with his skull. He cried out but couldn't stop his forward momentum. Almost in slow motion he went down, hands out to protect himself. The concrete opened up grazes on his palms immediately, dirt and grit sticking to the broken skin and his knees took the full force of his weight as he thumped down hard on his stick. His newly mended wrist screamed out with agony at the abuse and the cane broke on impact, snapping in two; as useless as he was.

"Pwok pwok pwok! PWOK PWOK PWOK!" Gales of laughter now - so loud that Danny was sure someone must have heard.

He slowly and painfully got himself up to his feet and when he turned around the laughter and clucking had receded behind the back of the house where, he presumed, the youngsters were trying their hand at breaking and entering, bored now that their entertainment was leaving.

He felt worthless, like so much dirt. No dignity left to him. Unable to stop them committing a crime he concentrated on remembering where he had seen a pay phone. The back of his head hurt and he felt the tender spot only to find it came away bloody. He stared at his fingers, the red shining in the sunlight and oozing across the tips of his grazed and throbbing hand like an accusation. His cane was gone and although he wanted to collapse right there and then, he also knew he had to get home in case they changed their mind and followed him. His overwhelming thoughts were two-fold; call in the cops and get home fast. Whatever pain he felt was secondary to the sorrow in his heart; he thought he deserved it.

Danny lurched along, feeling every muscle in his body was yelling at him like a Sergeant Major with a bull horn. As he staggered back down the road with the beautiful blue sky ahead and the tantalizing Hawaiian sunshine baking behind him, he began to cry - the shock of what he had done and been unable to do picking that very moment to punch him in the gut and make him ill. Bacon, eggs, waffles, orange, coffee; all of it rose to his mouth and gushed forth onto the gray stones. He bent double and gave in to the knotting of his stomach as he retched. It wasn't long before he was back up and staggering forward again, tears streaming down his face and eyes so blurry he could hardly see a thing. Turning the corner he saw a phone booth about a hundred yards along and aimed headlong for it.

As he wrapped his arms about himself like a drunk, his concentration was so focused on the telephone that he didn't see the car until it was almost too late. He heard the honking of a horn and a screech of brakes and another blast of déjà vu hit him from one of his fugues from the hospital. This time, luckily, he stepped back onto the sidewalk just as the car halted a few feet from where he would have been crushed to death. The man inside the vehicle cursed him liberally and unfairly calling him all the names he could think of. He was so busy berating Williams he didn't see that the young man had moved round the back of the car and was negotiating his way almost blindly toward the booth. As Danny reached it so the driver decided to call it quits. He blasted the horn again and squealed away, still cussing.

Danny picked up the telephone receiver but let it slip, his hands were so moist and unsteady. Trying again he finally managed to get his fingers to work and dialed HPD. He gave his name, a full description of the youths, the house number, road, what they were wearing – everything he could – expert witness. He neglected to mention they had assaulted him with pipes, although he did say they had potential weapons. He didn't want to tell them how he practically ran. His reputation was on shaky ground as it was nowadays without more gossip flying around the department. He said he would be available at home if they needed him and cut off.

He pressed the receiver against the side of his face, the warm, greasy plastic sticking to his skin and closed his eyes then began hitting himself with it, harder and harder until the pain shocked him back into the real world. "Useless…useless coward…just USELESS!"

There was a noise behind him and he turned swiftly, dropping the phone in fright. He was frankly terrified when he saw what he thought was one of them looking back at him; not the kids – his nightmares were far worse than that and as he stared through the booth the face split into four. In his mind's eye Mano, Ratchet, Lupe and Koa were there, leering faces pressing against the side of the scratched and dirty glass, ogling him as their noses squashed and rolled on the clear structure. They were smiling at him; teeth grinding, tongues waggling as they reached in and pawed at his arm. "Go away!" he moaned, alarmed when the booth swayed and the faces began a kaliedoscopic dance before congealing into one again.

"Hey you okay?" A voice said as someone tried to grab his arm before he sank half-way to the ground, bruised hands pressing against two walls like Samson pushing against a temple.

It took him a few seconds for reality to kick back in and when it did he felt completely foolish. There were no faces peering at him from the grave, just one face; that of a harmless looking older man who looked highly concerned at what he had found.

Danny composed himself, registering the lethargy that had suddenly over taken the adrenalin surge.

The man seemed kindly enough and helped pull him back up straight. "You take a turn there?" he asked.

"Sorry, yes, bad head…too much sun I guess." Danny quickly wiped the damp from his cheeks. His thoughts were clouding over and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stop himself from screaming with rage and frustration.

"Looks to me like you've been in the wars son, best rest up if you can. Live far?"

Danny studied the tall man in his late fifties; black hair graying at the temples and a mustache that badly needed a trim. It was his eyes that said most though; deep, dark blue - full of emotion and concern. They looked like Steve's eyes and Williams felt more tears well up that he couldn't control. "Sorry. No, not far. I have an apartment a couple of blocks up" He gulped down the bile that came back to his mouth.

The stranger noted Williams' shaking and took pity on him, "Well, if you're headed there and don't feel like walking I'd be happy to take you, soon as I've made this phone call."

"You don't have to do that, thanks all the same." Danny eased himself off the wall and vacated the booth for the man to make his phone call.

"Honest to God you look like your dog died or worse young man! You wait there just a minute, my car's just parked across the road, I'll take you."

"No dog but actually I would be grateful." Williams half-smiled; it was all he could manage. Lost in another world somewhere he gave in to the offer, at least that way he would be back inside soon.

After the man had made his call he and Danny got into his car parked nearby and drove off. It was a short trip; just enough time for them to introduce themselves to one another, the man seemed surprised when Dan told him he was with Five-0 he, it appeared, was a retired book keeper and happy enough to be out of his business to which Williams replied he couldn't wait to get back to his. The whole time he was sitting there though Danny was checking the mirrors for signs of being followed. He was desperate to get inside, close the door and fall flat on his face. They heard sirens behind them and whilst the stranger spoke of crime in today's society, Dan merely nodded, knowing where those particular units were headed.

Finally he was there, back where he started that morning, sans cane but with more pain. The man left after shaking his hand and wishing him well and Danny almost raced to get upstairs. Once through his door he closed it with the finality of a boulder rolling back on a tomb and locked it behind him. He tested the handle twice to make sure before backing into the room and immediately scrabbling to find the small .22 silver gun he had left at home. It hadn't been checked for ages but when his bloody hands found it his heart stopped running a marathon and began to settle back in his chest. He stared at the piece and tried to calm down.

Now he was home it was all sinking in, the ridiculous scenes played back in his mind. He felt stupid and cowardly just like the kids said but unable to control his emotions. Chad Jones warned him that he would be vulnerable for a long time to come but urged him to embrace each emotion as it came and discover the lesson behind it. Bullshit! He had acted on a primeval instinct and taken flight and for an officer of the law that was like a death knell to his career. The truth stared him in the face and it was accompanied in his mind by a wide streak running right down his back that meant the end of Five-0.

Heedless of the aches and pains, he felt the anger building up in him to volcanic proportions. Dropping the gun, he lashed out at anything in his way, upturning tables, launching his arms like a threshing machine and cutting a swathe of destruction across his living room floor. He broke things and didn't care and when his body told him `no more' he dropped like a stone in the middle of the carnage and stared fixedly into mid air, not even one tear cresting over his lashes this time – just silence and a huge intake of breath before a sigh. He was done. Worn to the bone with it all and determined to free himself.

The phone receiver was double beeping at him from where it had been knocked off the hook and lay swinging from side to side under the table. He began rocking in time with its motion, just trying to figure out what came next. He wanted to sleep, but he wanted help more.

Crawling across the floor on his bruised knees, he cried out when he knelt on something sharp then reached for the phone and replaced it before frantically searching around for his notepad that contained an important number, one he hadn't had time to memorize.

He dialed and waited for the receiver to be picked up, tapping his fingers nervously on his leg as he did so, "Come on, come on!"

The line connected.

"Chad? It's Dan Williams. Can I come over right away? I think I need help."

*******