We do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: IC's turn to apologize ... RL and new jobs ... holidays and much to do! Add in two persnickety muses and well, this chapter is a tad later than usual.
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Chin watched Steve from just inside the house. He'd arrived minutes earlier yet instead of announcing himself, he stood by silently watching ... and waiting. It was full dark now but the light from the lanai was enough for him to see that Danny had fallen asleep in one of the chairs. Steve was standing by his side, empty beer bottles in hand, yet evidently deciding what to do next based upon his frequent indecisive fidgeting. Chin had to smile when the man finally felt his presence and turned on guard, wary and unfriendly until he recognized him. Steve waved then, his attitude visibly changing in an instant as he left Danny to join Chin in the doorway.
"He okay?" Chin asked as he moved aside so they could both stand in the doorway and face the long yard.
"He still barely eats and this is the first time I've seen him sleep for more than twenty undisturbed minutes. I keep waiting for the dreams to start ..." Reluctant to share much more than that - even to Chin- Steve schooled his response, "so far, he's been okay."
The truth was, Danny had been anything but. Several times now, Steve had caught him standing out of bed, terrified and trembling like a leaf in the breeze. He had been mindful in his approach, too many times had he seen his buddies lash out with deadly force, completely unaware of their surroundings, yet convinced of their imminent peril nonetheless.
It was Danny's eyes which gave him away every time; glassy and looking right through Steve as though he weren't there. Yet for all they didn't see, those same eyes caught every minute movement and fed it back to Danny's muddled mind. Feeding the terror within. Unable to physically reach out and touch him, all Steve could do was sit and softly talk to his friend until he returned to a wakeful state, gently coaching him back to reality.
"Yeah, Chin." Steve heaved in a deep breath as he tried to shake the last terrifying event from his thoughts, expelling the air in a loud rush as he offered Chin a failed attempt at a smile. "Yeah, he's okay all things considered."
"Good," Chin sighed quietly in understanding about the sketchy truth around Steve's reply. He motioned lamely towards the dark silhouette in kind attempt at offering some semblance of support. "At least he's sleeping now. He needs the rest. Everything else will come in time and we're all here to help him."
He worried as much as Steve did; in fact, each of them remained highly sensitive towards and very protective of anything related to Danny and his overall health. Even work-related discussions focusing on INTERPOL and their joint business could devolve into brusque mistrustful sessions though their relationship was indeed winding to a close. But Chin had taken his own worry down an even longer path as he folded his arms, stared at Steve and waited.
"What?" Steve scowled as he realized Chin was appraising him. "Chin, come on? What are you looking at?" The older man was inordinately quiet, definitely judging him and Steve wasn't in the mood to be criticized.
"You," Chin said the obvious. Following his bland statement with an offhand shrug to indicate that he had no intention of dropping the next subject of conversation despite the way in which Steve's eyes narrowed in displeasure. So, even though Steve's demeanor had changed once again, Chin stared him down, calmly noting the distracted expression and the tension which was keeping him so badly on edge. Rather than beating around the bush, he gently grabbed Steve's shoulder and gave him a stern shake.
"What happened to Danny is not your fault," Chin adamantly whispered. "Neither one of you could have done anything differently. You've got to believe it, too, Steve."
"Yeah, well. Maybe I do," Steve muttered much to Chin's surprise. He wanted to argue and insist that the situation wasn't about him. Everything which had happened and what was going on that very moment was solely about Danny - it all should be about Danny - and yet, he couldn't avoid the truth anymore. They were all much too involved to continue denying the inevitable. He more than most as his mind once again revisited the prior evening's events. Another night where he'd faced Danny's demons as some weird third party sole witness to his best friend's terror.
"It's not my fault and it's not his fault," Steve gently deflected, allowing Chin the luxury of the known story. He rubbed his free hand over his face before stalking by the Asian to toss the two beer bottles into the recycling bin. "We talked about that tonight."
He and Danny had indeed discussed that very point ad nauseum, nonetheless, there was the issue of Danny's growing post traumatic stress. There was also Steve's own ongoing feelings of self-disgust. He didn't like to lose or be bested, and Spenser McCann had done just that. And not once, but twice. But if he wanted to help his partner, Steve needed to set the stage and take his own step in the right direction. At least when it came to understanding that certain things had been out of their control.
"You do know that I feel the same way, right?" Chin added softly. "I was there the first time and I saw the first signs of what could come. I didn't recognize any one of them and it's taken me a long time to come to terms with what I couldn't control! Despite what Danny experienced back then with McCann, I still didn't get it, Steve. But none of us really did ... not even Danny for what he's gone through now."
Steve made a sound deep in his throat. Not a one of them felt less responsible than the other. Feeling responsible and apologizing - even feeling a genuine sorrow - were all important things and proved their solidarity. Listening and talking each step of the way was both painful and yet a method to heal. But more needed to be done and perhaps it was time to discuss that too. Steve was nodding in agreement as Chin logically brought up the next most likely question.
"Has he talked about coming back to work?" Chin asked. "Even part-time?"
"No," Steve replied. He pursed his lips, worry and anger warring with each other as he turned to face his friend. They had too much to conquer and since he sensed it, Danny hadn't discussed returning to work. That would come in time though. What Danny wanted now was entirely different and it came on the heels of a frightening admission after believing he was trapped back in the penthouse. And though Steve had mixed emotions about this latest request, he understood.
"He's not one hundred percent and won't be for a while, but he wants to see the crime scene reports. Then, he wants go to back to the hotel. He wants to see the penthouse."
"Wow," Chin breathed out in surprise. He hesitated for the shortest moment, his eyes wandering out to settle on Danny and where he lay sleeping in the chair. He sighed just one more time before nodding in silent agreement.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O
Ever since Danny had told Steve what he remembered about his attack on Spense, he'd been in a worsening emotional turmoil. Near naked, over-powered, and completely without hope, he'd been beyond desperate inside the penthouse. He remembered or thought he could still feel so many sensations which continually reared their heads whether he was awake or asleep.
Whether it was in his head or part of a terrible past reality, he could feel Spense laying across his body. He could feel the man's hands on his skin. There were smells which might tickle his nose just the wrong way and a surge of nausea would send him flying into the closest bathroom. Conversely, other things had the precise opposite affect and he found himself first embarrassed, and then very angry.
"God," Danny whispered to himself as he continued to dwell. He still didn't know what to think about his growing night terrors. Both he and Steve blamed Spenser McCann for every miserable moment. Yet he was clueless about what to believe or how to feel when he came back to himself on the floor in Steve's spare bedroom, his best friend on his knees just a few short feet away softly pleading with him that he was safe. Except for the overwhelming sense of fear and loss, he barely remembered the nightmare itself.
His eyes flickered out across the lanai, then the grassy lawn and to the sparkle of the blue water. He was oddly finding more and more peace in the quiet solitude of being at Steve's. He appreciated the beauty and quiet predictability of the ocean and its waves more and more. He briefly wondered what Steve might think of that admission, but quickly dismissed the near-humor. That particular morning, he was stuck back in his head and thinking hard on too many things.
"Stop. Just stop and find something else to think about."
No matter who he spoke to though or how he tried to coach himself, Danny couldn't make it stop. He could still feel so many different things and his brain - and sometimes his body - decided to respond. He fidgeted uncomfortably, balancing a half-full mug of coffee while mindlessly playing with the splint on his arm and closed his eyes. He'd done something to his arm that night too and he was sore. But he argued Steve's request to have it checked by the doctor. His arm was fine; hell, he was fine and could do this. Yet Danny failed immediately at the short internal pep talk as another memory flit across his mind. His forehead creased deeply and he cursed unhappily as a remembered warmth caressed his lower back.
"Fuck," he complained under his breath as he failed at disengaging himself from a painful physical pleasure which was wrong. So wrong, and yet his body occasionally fought his brain against all reason.
He thought that he'd resolved himself to what he couldn't remember and was indeed desperate to move on. But there was another factor about that desperation which merely brought all his other thoughts back full circle where he'd soon settle on his worst memories. Real or not, valid or not, Danny was plagued by splintered images of things which he believed happened. The worsening dreams easily provided that. Foremost amongst all of it though was how he'd violently attacked another man in a last ditch effort to save himself. An attack with a distinct intent to kill.
There was a slideshow of horrifying images in his head further distorted by a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors. Nothing was perfectly clear. He couldn't remember what happened first or came after. It was all a blur until something would solidify suddenly with a brilliant clarity and he could literally feel what had happened all over again. Danny could even hear Spense's startled gurgle in his head. He could literally feel the softness of delicate skin ripping under the brutality of his hand as a heated warmth spilled over his fingers to dribble down his arm.
He was horrified by what he'd done. He was horrified by the level of what he'd been beaten down to. No matter if what he remembered was fact or fiction, he'd become increasingly agitated and upset.
In his head, he knew and understood the desperate nature of his actions. What he'd done was necessary to protect himself in order to create an escape. He knew that. He knew that he'd do it again, too. But he was human and having difficulty reconciling the violence of what he'd been forced into being.
Danny wasn't entirely able to compartmentalize the way Steve could. He knew that Steve had killed Dylan. The ex-SEAL had used his knife to dispatch the suspect. Biting back a self-deprecating snort, Danny could almost read those clinical words in his mind's eye.
He knew what Steve was capable of and he appreciated his friend's ability to detach himself from something now more than ever before. And perhaps that wasn't an entirely fair statement because Steve would consider what he'd done. He'd evaluate and he'd rationalize it. But Danny's own ability to do the same was all simply ... different.
"Shit!" Danny startled when Steve came up behind him, spilling his coffee as his one free hand jerked. "I'm fine!" He insisted at the same time Steve cursed under his breath.
"Sorry, Danno," Steve said, angry at himself for the accidental scare. "I didn't mean ... geez, are you okay?'
"It's fine. I'm fine," Danny repeated as he wiped his fingers on his t-shirt. "I'm okay. Ready? Can we go now?"
He missed the way Steve continued to scowl though, his face dark and worried as they readied to leave for the Five-0 offices. But things were slowly coming back round there too as the building was repaired and their offices nearly restored to their former efficient levels. It made sense that Danny wanted to review Charlie Fong's final reports on the crime scene there. The entire team supported him, yet now that the day had dawned, each of them was on edge and jumpy in stressful anticipation.
"Yeah, let's go," Steve replied distractedly as he rescued the half full mug from Danny's coffee-stained fingers. His friend had barely eaten that morning and it was another indicator which he added to his ever-growing list of watchful trigger points.
"Stop worrying about me," Danny said, his chin jutting out with the tiniest of smiles lifting one side of his mouth. "I'm fine. I need to do this." With his good hand freed, he automatically cradled his other to his chest. Beyond any feelings of pain, it was an unconscious defensive move. Again, something not entirely lost on Steve.
"What? I'm not worried, Danno," Steve objected tightly as his eyes refocused on Danny's face. "And I know you do." He hadn't realized that he'd zoned out, staring at what remained of Danny's coffee, his own feet blurred below. He couldn't help worrying and he so he wound up shrugging defensively as they turned together from the lanai back into the house. He was strung though and calmed only by Danny's subsequent sarcastic chuckle.
"Whatever you say, babe," Danny snarked quietly. "But thank you."
Steve shrugged again at that sentiment because it wasn't at all necessary. He supported Danny - as they all did - there was no reason to talk him out of his decision or object. However, that still didn't alleviate a single ounce of well-placed concern.
"Whatever you need, Danno," Steve truthfully answered. "You know that; we'll all do whatever it is you think you need to do. You don't need to thank us, buddy."
"I know,' Danny muttered softly. "But ... thank you. Seriously." He rocked into Steve's shoulder, the move a partial need for contact as they readied to leave the house. He was nervous and even afraid. He needed to go and see things for himself to put evil ghosts to rest and slay his demons. He knew his team supported him wholeheartedly.
But Steve knew so much more and Danny especially appreciated his partner's unyielding vow to always have his back come hell or high water. Danny needed Steve with him this time more than ever.
~ to be continued ~