Chapter Thirty-Eight "Please Open Your Eyes"

Johnny was the one shouting at Steve to wake up. He spent every spare moment he could by his brother's side in the hospital. It had been a few days since they'd arrived. Johnny had been released, and actually felt okay, considering he'd been shot, but Steve had yet to come out of his own prison.

The doctors had been forced to stop operating when it became clear that Steve had lost far too much blood. He still had most of the bullets in his body, and they would stay there until he was strong enough to have them removed.

Johnny had claimed the squarish metal chair at Steve's bedside and refused to move for more than a trip to the bathroom or an hour at home to shower and change. He slept there, as much as he did sleep. If Steve opened his eyes for one second, he would be there. He had something to say that couldn't wait. It had waited too long as it was.

Mary Ann was there sometimes. She didn't talk much, and Johnny didn't ask her to. But she sat on the floor by his feet and cried a lot.

Catherine wasn't there as much as Johnny thought she would be. She still often paced the halls, but she seemed uncomfortable in the room. Johnny was too preoccupied to wonder why. If he had, he might have considered that he was making a nuisance of himself.

He didn't stop. He didn't rest. He had to be there if Steve opened his eyes. Steve had to open his eyes.

Joe had taken Jack back to Steve's house. He brought him over once a day to check in, but as one of the few rational people around, Joe knew that hanging around a hospital was not healthy for a child. It wasn't exactly healthy for any of them, but they didn't care as much.

Danny never stopped moving. He drove back and forth between the hospital, work, and home. Johnny saw him frequently for brief intervals. But he got a lot of yelling done in those intervals.

Grace and Rachel came a couple of times. Grace cried, and Rachel whispered to Steve, so low no one could hear. They didn't stay long, but longer than Danny had.

"We're all a mess," Johnny said one afternoon. Mary was slumped against the wall, asleep. No one else was in the room. "You need to wake up," he went on. "You're the one who holds us all together. That's really sad; I know, but it's the truth."

Johnny stopped. He had been pacing along the length of Steve's bed as he talked. It did no good. His brother's face was still a pale, still reflection of what it should have been.

"Wake up Steve," Johnny said, reaching for his hand. There was no reaction. "Just please wake up."

H-5-O

Danny spent his days in a mixture of guilt and frustration. He didn't stay with Steve. He'd have liked to, but he couldn't do anything there, and Johnny was more than enough of a crazy bedside vigil for any hospital.

The case was over. Wo Fat was dead, and all his minions were either dead as well or in custody. The paperwork was extensive. Technically, Governor Denning had mandated an indefinite suspension of Five-0 activities until Steve was out of the hospital. Danny didn't really listen to it, and that's why he was sitting in his office while his best friend might very well have been dying.

That was when the governor chose to show up. It made sense that he knew Danny wouldn't be following his orders.

"I suppose it makes sense that you take after your boss," he said, taking a seat across Danny's desk.

"You're my boss," Danny said, not looking up from his paperwork.

"I hope not," Denning said. "I'm Steve's boss, and I don't want that to change."

"Yeah."

"Detective, what are you doing here?"

"Paperwork. That's what I get for going into public service."

"It can wait."

"Not really. I don't want Steve to have all this to do when he gets back. I'm better at it anyway."

Danning nodded then, seeming to understand something about Danny. "You should be with him," he said.

Then Danny did look up. "Life goes on," he said. Throughout the whole conversation, Danny's voice had been lifeless, not his usual dynamic speech patterns.

Denning shook his head. "Are you really gonna sit there and tell me you don't want to be with your partner right now? On a normal day the two of you are inseparable."

"This isn't a normal day!" Danny said, standing up and pacing toward the window. He rubbed his hand over his face and left it clamped over his mouth with his elbow resting in his other hand.

Denning remained seated, watching Danny carefully, weighing his next words. "No it's not," he said. "Your family's taken a huge hit with this, and they need you."

Danny shook his head, staring blankly out the window. "Steve has his family," he said.

"You think just because his brother and sister are here that he doesn't still need you?"

Yes, Danny thought just that. It had been coming on so slowly that he didn't know when the coherent thought really materialized. But Steve didn't need Danny to be his brother anymore. They called each other family and had for three years now, but it wasn't the same. It started with Danny getting his own family back and had been escalating since then until Johnny showed up.

Danny wasn't sure where that left them now. He didn't like to think that maybe it left them nowhere since Steve may not actually recover from this. No, he had to. Too many people relied on him; he had a son.

Danny tired to think of what Steve would want him to do if he could tell him. He'd probably want Danny to comfort his family.

"Detective Williams?" Denning said.

"Yeah?" Danny replied, turning around to face the governor.

"I want you to go to the hospital and talk to John McGarrett. That's an order."

Denning didn't specify that Danny should talk to Johnny about the case, about his actions to save Steve. He just said to talk to him.

H-5-O

Catherine spent most of her time harassing doctors and nurses and wearing a path between the waiting room outside Steve's room and the cafeteria, bringing food to Johnny and Mary and whoever else was there.

She saw Jack when Joe brought him by, and she went home for an hour or two at a time before the feel of the place began to suffocate her. She was tired, but she couldn't sleep. She wanted to curl up next to Steve and never wake up, but that was not an option.

She would have spent more time with him than she did if Johnny and Mary hadn't been there most of the time. She liked them, but something in her needed to be alone with Steve. It was starting to drive her crazy.

Up until now, she hadn't put a voice to it, but then Danny showed up. He just stood there for a second in the waiting room, staring at the door to Steve's room. His hands were hanging in the air, as if he were about to start speaking.

Catherine stopped pacing the floor and waited for him to say something. He looked lost.

"They still in there?" Danny finally asked.

Catherine nodded.

"Come on," he said, holding out his hand as if to drag her into the room with him, which is kind of what he did.

When they got into the room, Johnny was standing by Steve's bed and Mary was sitting on the floor cross-legged.

"I need to talk to you," Danny said to Johnny as he let go of Catherine's hand. "And they want to be alone."

He said they. As if Steve had an opinion at this point. But Johnny and Mary got the hint, and followed Danny out of the room. The latter stood in the door for a moment.

"I'll give you all the time I can," he said.

Catherine nodded as the door closed. Then she turned back to Steve. She hadn't really been alone with him since the whole thing started, and she realized what a toll that was taking on her.

At the sight of all the machinery attached to Steve's body, the tube breathing for him, something snapped inside Catherine. Before she really knew what was happening, she had fallen to her knees beside the bed and grasped Steve's hand between hers as tightly as she dared. Tears made their way down her face, and repressed sobs shook her whole body.

"Come back to me, please," she whispered. "Please, just open your eyes."

H-5-O

Johnny smoked his last cigarette as he and Danny walked up and down the sidewalk outside the hospital.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, a far off look in his eyes.

"I don't know," Danny replied. "I was ordered to leave the office and talk to you."

Johnny laughed humorlessly. "Okay. I'm sure there's plenty to talk about."

"Yeah, I just thought..."

"That I'd be talking to Steve, not you."

Danny nodded stiffly. They stopped beside a metal railing along a handicap entrance. Johnny leaned against the top rail and stared across the street at cars and buildings and nothing.

"Well, he's not here now," he said.

Danny rested his forearms on the rail, facing the opposite direction from Johnny. "Never thought I'd have a problem with that."

"What do you mean?"

"Talking to someone without him. About..." Danny moved his hands vaguely. "I don't know—what you had to do back there. With Wo Fat."

"Yeah." Johnny squinted in the pale sunlight and flicked his spent cigarette to the ground. "I thought... well, if I ever thought about such things, I thought I'd be talking to Steve."

Danny chewed on the inside of his mouth. He didn't know where to start. For some reason, kidnappings and shootings seemed like Steve's personal provenance. Danny had been through his own trauma, but Steve understood trauma.

"It doesn't go away," Johnny finally said. "I'm sure you know that, but it's different. I never would have done it if... if I didn't think Steve would die if I didn't. It had to be that. I don't think I'd even shoot someone to save my own life. It's just... I don't know. I wasn't even thinking; I just acted, and I've never done that before. And if Steve—if he doesn't make it... Well he has to because that's why I did it."

Danny nodded, not looking at Johnny. He couldn't. He'd seen death on a near daily basis for years, but this was too close. This was like someone cut off his arms and legs and told him to walk it off. This was like trying to comfort someone when he'd just lost the one person in the world he could really trust.

Danny had to remind himself that Steve wasn't dead yet. He had to keep thinking that Steve would be okay, that he would open his eyes, crack a stupid joke, and everything would be fine.

Until then, he had to do something for Johnny. For Steve, really. "Are you hungry?" Danny asked. "I have a lot of lasagna."

Johnny looked at him as if he might refuse. But he didn't. "Yeah," he said. "Sounds good."

H-5-O

Steve wanted so bad to not be alone anymore. This netherworld of near death was beginning to drive him insane. He still heard the voices calling him to wake up. He knew he was unconscious. Or something like it.

They still sounded like his mom a lot of the time. Once he thought he heard Mary Ann. Usually it was Johnny or Danny. Danny was louder.

But now it was Catherine, and she was pleading. She was begging him to wake up, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He couldn't force his eyes open. He couldn't really feel his eyes.

Please open your eyes. She sounded like she was crying. Please don't leave me.

I'm trying! Steve wanted to shout. I don't want to leave you.

But he couldn't find his mouth either. He couldn't find his hands or feet. He couldn't find his head. He tried to think of how he got in this position. He'd been shot several times. He remembered the feeling of his blood spilling out on the concrete floor. He remembered thinking, this is what it feels like to die.

But he wasn't dead. He was hanging on in some hospital with his family begging him to live. He wished he could tell them he would. He wished he could know that he would. But he hardly knew the difference between life and death now. He remembered a bullet hitting his left lung. He probably couldn't even breathe on his own.

But he tried. He really did try to wake up. As he drifted in and out of this awareness, he played the voices over and over again in his mind. He tried to see their faces.

And once, he was successful. Catherine's face appeared before him, eyes red, and mouth half open in a gasping breath after a sob.

He tried to speak to her, but all he could do was make a muffled moaning noise. Somewhere his brain registered that his throat hurt. He could feel his hand in a tight grip. He couldn't move it except to press his fingers into whatever was holding him.

Catherine's voice cut through the haze, and her face appeared clearer now. "Steve!"