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Estimating its end, Steve arrived to the clinic exactly one hour after Danny's session was supposed to have begun with Doctor Forbes. Trying to act relaxed and be unhurried, he ambled comfortably though the main door precisely at Noon despite how he really felt on the inside and then checked in at the main desk. He shifted the bag he carried from hand to hand, the enticing aroma of food wafting distractedly though the air. He'd bought what felt like half the deli just to be sure something might appeal to Danny's appetite.
"Are you Commander McGarrett?" The man asking was short and rotund, with a pair of mischievous eyes set within a comical face. Steve automatically grinned on sight, extending his free hand instantly towards who he instinctively recognized as Danny's doctor.
"Yes. Doctor Forbes ... am I right?" Steve asked, pleased that he had the fortune to meet the physician so quickly.
"That you are," Forbes said pleasantly. "Danny's in his room ... resting." The way he said resting put Steve instantly on guard and he scowled as the doctor's tone became more serious. "He had a vivid flashback during our session; he's fine but needs some time to get himself composed. Follow me to my office. He's expecting you of course, but asked that I fill you in on ... what happened."
"He did?" Steve asked more to himself than to Forbes as he obediently followed him down the long hallway.
"He did," Forbes concurred bluntly. "Waivers included which makes you his medical proxy, unless this is a significant conflict of interest since you are his boss?"
"Not a conflict," Steve retaliated almost immediately before softening his defensiveness. "None at all." Forbes' eyebrows had rocketed into his hairline at the onset of his outburst causing Steve to mentally backpedal. He put the bag of food on the floor and then rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. Trying to find the right words, he sat down in the spare guest chair, looking around the office and registering the airy, comfortable atmosphere. He approved and was glad that Chin had worked so hard to find just the right spot for Danny to get back on his feet. Steve smiled apologetically as he rephrased his reply.
"No, doc, there's no conflict whatsoever. Danny and I ... we're friends first and foremost. I'll do whatever it takes to help him and I have the same sense of ... wanting to protect Danny ... protect Danny's privacy ... just as you do."
"Hmm," Forbes quizzically murmured. He was staring closely at Steve and analyzing him as if under a microscope. Steve stared right back, challenging the doctor to read anything other than his honesty and determination to support Danny one thousand percent.
"Let's get to it then," Forbes said, apparently appeased. "Danny's much improved and steadily gaining ground. He's learning to cope with his PTSD and whatever triggers seem to spark a bad memory. He's coming to terms with what was done to him - he's actually learning to process what happened in a very admirable way."
"Process?" Steve jumped in questioningly.
"Process," the doctor stated as he held his hands up wide. "Meaning that he's learning to integrate what happened to him into his daily life - and I say it's admirable because Danny's a smart man. He's smart and knows that he can get his sense of self back; his sense of being in control. He wants to get better and wants to conquer these demons."
"But it's going to take time," Steve added much to Forbes' professional delight. "Months and maybe even years with what those ... maniacs ... did to him."
"Time and patience from his friends and family," Forbes said, his eyes narrowing at Steve's flare of justifiable anger. "He's going to have numerous setbacks along the way and may not even know why. But in my professional opinion, he's on a good track."
Steve was listening, but he could only imagine what might have sent Danny back to his room after his session - to rest of all things. Dreams? Flashbacks? The slimy feel of McCann's hands or Walker's sadistic torture? Or, the damnable tiny, claustrophobic room on the freighter. So many things ... so many unfair things to deal with and Steve dismally shook his head. "Setbacks like whatever happened with you this morning?" Steve softly added.
"Precisely," the doctor reiterated blandly, drawing Steve back to the discussion at hand. "He needs to get through them - process them - have help in understanding that what he's feeling isn't pleasant, but it's normal."
"So, what do I do then?" Steve asked. "I mean, I've tried to help him before and ... what happened ... it clearly wasn't enough or was even wrong. I wasn't what he needed. None of us were."
Doctor Forbes looked down then, heaving his ample girth back into his plush chair thoughtfully. Danny had confessed all of his fears - fact or fiction derived from possible fact - right down to his feelings of shame for attacking his best friend and then trying to kill himself. Not all of his complaints had to do with the abuse he'd suffered at Spenser McCann's or Dylan Walker's hands. He'd hurt his friends and feared he'd do the same to his daughter. The worries were valid and the abuse he'd suffered through was the direct culprit for his actions.
"None of us blames him for anything he might have said ... or done," Steve suddenly shared as if reading the doctor's mind. "We just want him to get well ... we want him back home. Where he belongs. Just tell me what to do."
Forbes smiled warmly at that admission, which was really a plea for direction. Through his patient, he also knew that the man sitting directly in front of him that very moment equally blamed himself. Forbes almost said something about that and then changed his mind. Instead, he stuck to his case at hand and gave a curt nod before giving the best advice he could offer.
"He wants to see you today when he hasn't wanted to entertain anyone since he first arrived. He's progressing well, Commander, and I'd like him to carry on this course despite this morning's episode. He'll discuss what he wants, when he wants to bring it up. Just listen and be there for him. That's your only job in this. That ...," and Forbes gave Steve a sly wink as he pointed to the large bag of food. "... and getting him to eat whatever it is you brought for lunch."
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Danny lay curled up on his right side, eyes closed and still-casted arm tucked into his chest. He was on top of the sheets and the breeze from his window occasionally flowed over his body. It wasn't a comforting feeling at all, however even partly awake, he needed to know that he wasn't stuck inside some stagnant black hole. With Walker. He couldn't explain what had happened during his session with Forbes, not one bit. But whatever the trigger, the outcome and its fallout had left him feeling ill and battle weary.
He sensed movement in the outer corridor, heard the occasional murmur of a distant voice, and then felt the presence of someone hovering just inside the doorway to his room. All normal for the clinical setting and yet he shivered involuntarily as the breeze buffeted his shoulder. His feet were bare too and he was colder than he should be, and he knew that he was positioning himself for another disaster by not finding the wherewithal to at least cover himself with the spare blanket which lay rumpled at the foot of his bed. But he was too physically worn out and much too anxious to even twitch a single finger.
The person in the doorway moved closer as Danny's brow furrowed in discomfort and he automatically shielded his injured arm with his upper body. He was half aware and half in dream, uncertain of his true safety. Nonetheless he eventually sighed peacefully as the coveted blanket was draped first over his feet and then his shoulders.
Slowly. Attentively. Danny knew who it was then and he relaxed fully, more content as the familiar voice whispered over his head.
"It's only me," Steve whispered reassuringly when Danny fidgeted and protectively wrapped his free hand around his casted arm. There was a soft uncertain murmur as the lines in his face deepened almost in fear when Steve slowly pulled the light weight blanket over his shoulders, tucking it in just enough. But then his tense expression eased and Danny sighed on a soft exhale, his body virtually melting into the mattress of the small bed.
"Rest, Danny. Go to sleep. Lunch can wait. I can wait," Steve gently promised. His voice was quiet, subdued and entirely soothing. "I'll wait."
Looking down at his friend, Steve wound up sighing as well. He scrubbed at his face, unable to stop worrying even though Danny seemed to have gone into a deeper sleep almost instantly now. He quietly sat in the one available chair and looked around the small room, seeing the evidence of his prior day's gifts. The school picture of Grace propped up just so that Danny would be able to see it from his pillow. The well worn bakery box, trail of crumbs on the side table, and the iPod right there on the edge of the bed within easy reach, as though Danny must have changed his mind about listening to the music.
Steve stretched out long in the chair, his eyes noticing everything while he listened to the various sounds from the busy hallway. The sun was streaming in through the window, and the breeze from outside did indeed feel pleasant, a scent of flowers barely there. He sighed again; entirely resolute. The indefatigable sound just audible in the small room as he crossed his ankles comfortably to wait for however long it might take.
~ to be continued ~
