Chapter 19
To Fight or Not to Fight…
Danny stared out the slightly parted slats of his hospital room. His entire body was an aching reminder of his time in Colombia. The window was slightly ajar to allow for limited airflow through his quiet room. His gaze slid sideways to where Steve slept restlessly. He'd listened to everything that his partner had said and yet he still couldn't work past his own trauma. Hurting his friend had never part of the deal. But looking at the healing bruises that stretched over Steve's face and disappeared beneath his blanket was a stark reminder that things had not gone as he'd planned.
He wanted to snort at that thought because landing in that prison had never been part of any plan. He was tired, so very tired. Danny had never been so mentally and physically exhausted in his entire life. There was a part, a very small part, that just wanted to give in to the pain and the helpless feelings that seemed to be overwhelming him.
Steve mumbled something that Danny couldn't quite hear what he said, but it stopped his downward spiral of introspection. His friends face scrunched up into a pinched version of his usual expression. His body flexed as he reached for something only he could see. The blonde watched his best friend for a moment, but when a silent tear leaked out of one corner of his closed eyelids, he couldn't take it any longer.
With a grimace, he forced his body into a seated position. Very carefully he grabbed the rolling IV pole and then slipped his legs over the edge of the bed. His eyes landed on the thick white bandages that covered most of his exposed skin and cringed. It would be a long time before he was one hundred percent again. His attention shifted to the wheelchair sitting a few feet away. Gathering his strength, he prepared to the world of hurt he knew was in for. He transferred his battered body to the wheelchair, hissing as the pain washed over him.
Grabbing the pole, he rolled it between his legs and then shifted so he could roll toward Steve's bed. His friend's restlessness had built to a crescendo and he worried that it might cause another injury to McGarrett's already long list. Gathering his strength, Danny capped his own pain and rolled toward the other bed.
He blinked in surprise when he recognized his name beneath the pained gasps. "Danny, come on man. Why would you do that?"
It was clear that Steve was having a full-on dream, but Danny found himself stopping as he listened to the inner workings of his friend.
"I would've protected you….Ah Danno, I'm so sorry I failed." The emotion laden confession sent a spike of worry through the detective. He didn't blame Steve for anything. What had happened to him had nothing to do with the ex-SEAL and everything to do with the choices that Danny had made.
His mind was awash in denial even though he knew that it was pointless. Matt had lied to him. Lied to their parents. Hell, he'd lied to the people whose hard-earned money he'd taken to 'invest' for their futures.
As the Camaro screeched to a halt, Danny bounded from inside the silver vehicle; his weapon was already drawn and ready. If anyone had ever told him that he would one day be drawing down on his baby brother, he would've punched them in the face for the insult. And yet as he watched Matt saunter toward the private jet with a briefcase held loosely in his hands, he knew he had no other choice.
His brother only knew about the investigation because Danny had asked him about his financial dealings. Which meant that if he fled, the FBI would make the connection between them and he'd be in a world of trouble.
But it hadn't been fear for his own future that had driven him to pull his sidearm in one fluid movement, no…it had been that deep-seated need to protect his brother from the world of consequences that would rain down on him if he flew the coup.
"Matthew!" He called desperately as he lifted his weapon, taking aim at his brother's back. "Matthew Williams?!" Danny rarely called his younger brother by anything other than Matt or Mattie, so his choice to use the full name halted his brother's tight footsteps and he turned.
The look on Matt's face would haunt Danny for the rest of his life. It said he was resigned to a decision that would take him away from his family.
Danny couldn't even remember what he'd said to his brother as he tried to convince him not to leave. Just come back and they would work through this like they always had, as a family. But then Matt had asked what his big brother was going to do if he left anyways; 'You going to shoot me Danny?'.
The accusation had caught him off guard. No, he'd had never any intention of shooting Matt. But using his sidearm as a way to convince people was simply part of his DNA at this point. He'd been a cop for more than ten years and it was ingrained in who he was on a cellular level.
"I'm not strong, Danny. Not like you. I'd never survive prison and you know it."
The argument hadn't been necessary because the elder Williams had never had any intention of taking his threat beyond what he already had.
"Please don't do this. What's your plan here? You just gonna walk away? From me? From mom and dad?"
Matt's face had shifted, and emotional pain flared in his brown eyes. "I don't have a choice, Danny."
"Yes, you do. You have a choice. I'm giving you a choice." He fired back desperately. His fingers flexed around the polymer handle of his weapon.
His brother paused for a moment and he thought that he might've gotten through to him, but then Matt had shaken his head and started back up the steps. "Tell mom and dad I love them…and I'm sorry."
All he could do was allow his leaden arms to drop to his sides, his side arm dangling loosely in his right hand. When his brother had shown up in Hawaii, Danny had been excited to show him the island that was starting to grow on him. But there had been something different right from the start and it had never leveled out. Leaning against the door of his car, he'd been unable to do anything more than watch as the small private jet had carried away his baby brother. His heart was heavy at the pain he knew he was going to cause his family. This wasn't the first time that he'd taken on the responsibilities of one of his siblings, but it never got easier.
Danny hadn't realized he wasn't alone until…
"Danny?" Steve's voice called quietly from the darkness behind him, turning Danny stared at the friend he'd never thought to find on this pineapple infested island. "You okay?"
He'd inhaled shakily and then swallowed the ball of grief threatening to choke him. "I'm fine." He lied.
Steve's lips pulled into a grimace and he stepped out of the shadows. "You sure about that?"
Inhaling deeply, Danny shook his head. "No. But I don't really a choice do I. Someone is going to have to call my parents and explain what's going on."
His partner closed the distance between them. "It doesn't have to be you."
Danny sighed, "Yeah, yeah it does. My parents deserve to hear it from me. It's my fault Matt took off—"
"Now hold on Danny; this wasn't your fault. Your brother made a choice. A bad choice, but a choice just the same."
"Not sure if my parents are going to see it that way." He answered softly. His hands drove through his blonde hair in an agitated manner.
It was Steve's turn to sigh. "Danno, I was here the whole time. I heard what you said. You gave Matt every opportunity to come with you. And we would have done everything we could to help him."
Danny's deep blue gaze shifted to Steve. "We?"
His partner's mouth dropped open in surprise at the comment. "Yes, 'we'. Did you think you were alone in this? Because I would never do that Danny. I would never leave you or your family to deal with something like this if I could help."
It had been the first time that Danny had realized that Steve was more than just a partner. They were actually friends and he could rely on that friendship when things got tough.
Danny had allowed Steve past that wall he'd built after Grace's death so many years before. Despite being married when he'd been parterned with the spunky Jersey officer, they'd developed a sense of teamwork that had overshadowed both of their personal lives. It had never been anything more than that, not for either of them. But it had been a true partnership.
When he'd met the annoying Navy man after his father's death, Danny hadn't anticipated developing such an affinity for the man. Steve had been obnoxious, and he'd basically called everything that Danny held dear into question. And then they'd spent the next year working through their differences and that had become something that was deeper than the friendships the Jersey detective had built over the previous decade as a cop on the mainland.
Steve was the type of friend that Danny would call if he ever had to bury a body.
That brought him out of his thoughts and he quickly closed the last of the space that had been separating them. Biting down on his own conditioned responses, he forced his leaden arm to lift toward Steve's sweaty skin. "Steve?" he called quietly. There was no response and he blinked a few times before he tried again. "Steven, it's just a dream."
The dark-haired man's head rolled from side to side and it was clear that he was caught in between the waking and the sleeping worlds. With another sigh, he patted Steve's arm again.
"Steven J. McGarrett. You need to wake up." He was clear and concise in his order and he watched as the military man responded to him without hesitation.
Steve's head rolled to the side and his eyelids slid apart. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus on the man sitting just below his eyeline. Danny's blonde head came into focus and then realization settled in and he struggled to sit up.
"Danny? You okay?"
Without missing a beat, Danny snorted. "No, but I'm not the one that needed to be woke up."
McGarrett's eyes widened at Danny's quick retort. Slowly he smiled as he saw a spark of his friend buried under the pain.
H50 H50
"How the hell did this happen?!" Gaustavo's voice rang through the lower cells like a thundering storm. His anger was palpable as he spun on his men and slammed a meaty fist into the closest one. "I want that gringo cop found, and I want him dead."
One of the men standing further away flinched before asking, "Which gringo cop? The blonde or the dark-haired man?"
Gustavo swung around and pinned the shorter guard with a dangerous stare. "I want the one that killed my brother." A slow smile spread along his thick lips. "And I want the other one so he can watch the small one die. If he thought what happened to him in Colombia was bad, wait until he sees what I have planned next."
Ignoring the worried glances between his men, Gustavo stomped from the cell and toward the dimly lit stairs. "Get me a private plane. And call in Senior Tanner. It's time we took this to the Islands."
H50 H50
Three weeks later
Danny stared out the window of his hospital room. He was seated in the required wheelchair and he wasn't too happy about it. His injuries were healing, at the least the ones on the outside. His leg was still painful, but at least now he could put limited weight on it, so it was a small victory. Rolling around in the wheelchair remained difficult due to his shoulders, but luckily that pain was more because of the forced positioning than a true injury. For that he was grateful. His gaze shifted to the wall clock and he released a breath before dragging his fingers through his hair. It was missing the product he generally used causing it to fall in limp strands around his face. He hated it. But he was just too tired all the time to do anything about it.
With a sigh he rolled away from the window and grabbed up his small bag of personal items. The doctor had released him a few hours ago, but he'd yet to call anyone to pick him up. Steve would have done it in a heartbeat; in fact, he was probably going to be royally pissed when he realized that Danny hadn't done exactly that. A pang of regret flooded through him at the thought of causing his friend pain, that wasn't his intention. It was just that it had been a rough recovery process and he needed some time to gather his thoughts.
He needed to feel like he had control over something. Danny was one of those people that preferred to control most aspects of his lift, his friendship with Steve made that difficult on a good day. Calling a rideshare for a lift back to his place had been that something he, Danny, could control. McGarrett wasn't going to like the fact that his partner wasn't heading to his place for the duration of his recovery. The SEAL would expect Danny to spend that time with him and truthfully, the Jersey detective would normally be fine with it. But the damage to his mind that had been done inside that cell was deep and had scarred over; in the darkness and the silence of the night it still plagued him, and the last thing Danny wanted was for Steve to hear him moaning like ninny.
He swallowed the waves of regret and rolled toward his door. His trip through the hospital was quick and blessedly free of any interactions. Danny still didn't want people touching him, so avoiding the nurses and doctors was imperative. He'd met with the shrinks every day for the past two weeks, but he hadn't been able to talk about all the things he'd gone through; much to the doctors' dismay. He had, however, been able to talk about his friendships with Steve and the other members of Five-O. They'd been particularly interested in the deep bond he'd formed with McGarrett.
The SEAL was the one person that Danny would do anything for, outside of Grace. While he'd risk his safety and even his life for the others, it was Steve that he would not, could not abandon. Not under any circumstances. For whatever reason that had intrigued the shrinks. He'd been reluctant to talk, at first, but as he slowly started to dig into his life with Five-O it became much easier.
He rolled to the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. The confined space inside the metal box made him sweat as he clenched down on the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Luck appeared to be with him since he made it to the lobby without any stops on other floors, which meant that no one else entered the elevator. For that small miracle he was grateful. The last thing he needed was for someone else to have a front row seat to his humiliation.
Blowing out a breath when the doors finally slid apart, he couldn't roll fast enough as he quickly exited the metal deathtrap. The humid air was the first thing to hit him as he rolled through the sliding glass doors. The sun had begun to set, and the steady downfall of a light soft rain reminded him that he was back on the Island. He used to hate this place, but after his stint in Colombia, he would never again complain out these Islands.
Okay, he would probably complain about it, but he wouldn't ever mean it. The smell of dirt and ozone released some of the tightness that had built up in his chest. He closed his eyes and inhaled several more breaths, ignoring the twinge of pain along his ribs.
"You should've called."
Steve McGarrett's voice cut through his solitude and he jerked his eyes up in surprise. The SEAL was standing in front of his blue Chevy truck, hands resting on his hips and a reproachful look in his guarded blue eyes. "Steve…"
The taller man shifted his weight and sighed loudly. "Why would you try to leave alone, Danny?"
Danny wasn't sure how to answer that. It had nothing to do with his partner and everything to do with himself. But there was no way that Steve was going to buy that. "I just…" he couldn't finish the statement because he had no idea how it ended.
The pained look that ghosted over his best friend's face hit Danny square in the heart, like a lance. Dropping his gaze, he stared at his hands. The breeze that was typical at night in Oahu shifted his blonde hair into his eyes and soft patter of the rain covered up his hitching breaths. He wanted to talk to Steve he really did, but he couldn't quite bring himself to dig up everything that had happened inside that cell. The look disappeared from his partner's face and Steve sank down onto the cement bench before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
"Danny, we can't keep doing this dance." Guarded blue-green eyes lifted to meet the gaze of the injured man in the wheelchair. He was in full 'protect' mode. It was a typical response from the emotionally stunted man seated before Danny.
He snorted and then grimaced as his side lit up with an achy reminder of his most recent predicament. "Dance, obviously I can't dance, Steven. At least not right now. So, I'm not sure exactly what—"
Steve surged up, his hands running agitatedly through his dark hair. "Stop it, Danny. This is serious."
"Do you really think I don't know that?" Danny blinked back the stinging emotions that threatened to spill up out of his guts. "I was there. Trust me, I remember."
"I need to know why?" Steve pulled his lower lip between his teeth and shook his head before again sinking to the bench in weary silence.
Danny pulled in a breath, when his side lit up with old pains he winced. But even his obviously still healing state didn't derail the conversation that was coming. "Why what?" He forced past his teeth.
Rolling his eyes, his partner asked again. "Why would you let them take you in the first place?" Steve's tactics shifted away from Danny's current decision to the one he'd made several weeks ago. The decision that had landed both he and Steve in a Colombian prison and had very nearly ended both their lives.
He swallowed, stalling for time to find the right words. "Ever since I did…what I did. I've been feeling a certain way about it. Maybe I just didn't want to feel that way anymore."
Steve's eyes widened. "Reyes." When Danny didn't answer, he knew he was on the right track. "Danny, he murdered your little brother. He lied to you about it. He got you to track down 18 ½ million dollars, charter a plane to Colombia; and all the while he'd known that you weren't getting Matt back. Not alive." He stopped and leaned forward, taking Danny's limp hand in his. The cold flesh worried him a bit, but he continued despite his concerns. "I was there. I saw the entire exchange. Marco Reyes got exactly what he deserved. Actually, he got better than he deserved."
The physical contact made Danny stiffen, but he clamped down on his conditioned response and allowed Steve this small act. "Did he?" The answer was soft, straining with pent up emotions the blonde couldn't quite release. "I'm a cop Steve. That's not how a cop should have handled it."
"Really? And how do you think a cop should've handled that situation?"
Danny sighed, "Not that way."
The SEAL leaned back releasing Danny's hand. "Buddy, that might not be how a cop should have handled it, but it was exactly how a big brother should have. You did what you had to do. God knows how many people's lives you saved by removing that piece of filth from the equation."
Danny slumped lower in the chair, his hands intertwining to keep them from shaking. "Yeah but look at what it cost me." He glanced up, "What it cost us."
"It wasn't just you, Danny. I was there too. If you hadn't done something; I would have." A crack of thunder announced the approach of one of the islands famous storms. It was almost the perfect reflection of both their internal states. Just as the rain started to fall in earnest, the taller man sank down onto the uncomfortable bench for the third time.
"I don't understand."
"I know you don't. But Danny I would've never let Reyes get away with it; even if you had been able to let it go. I wouldn't have. Matt was your brother man. And you're the closest thing to a brother that I have. That made him family. Ohana."
Tiny lines furrowed between his blonde eyebrows as Steve's confession sank in. Something inside him broke loose and the steel bonds that had bound him since the moment he'd pulled that trigger seemed to slip away. "You would have done that? For me?"
Steve shrugged like it was no big deal. "Yeah." He said it like it was a foregone conclusion that he would commit murder; for Danny. Although he couldn't admit, even to himself, that taking out Reyes had been anything but justified. The scumbag drug dealer had darkened their lives for too long already, he wasn't going to allow that to happen any longer.
The lift driver pulled up and honked at Danny. "You still need that ride?" Steve questioned softly.
For the first time in a long time Danny felt a smile pull at his lips. He pulled his phone out and pressed the cancellation button on the ride he'd called. The driver honked again and flipped the middle finger at the injured man before speeding away. "Uh, no. Plus I don't think he'd be fair about the feedback."
Steve snorted a laugh and stood up. "Probably not." He stepped behind the wheelchair and carefully pushed his partner toward his waiting truck. The storm picked up and the rain shifted from a gentle downpour to a torrential pounding of rainwater. Water dripped down Danny's face, but he found that he didn't really care. His gaze landed on the Chevy truck and he took a breath before he rolled to a stop. McGarrett stepped around and pulled the door open. There was a momentary debate before he took a step back to allow his partner to do this on his own.
Danny levered himself upright and placed his plastic bag on the floor before slowly pulling himself into the truck. The leather was soft as he settled back against it. Steve placed a pair of crutches in the backseat before rolling the chair back to the entrance. Then he too climbed into the truck.
Pulling out onto the drenched road, he turned away from the hospital. If he never saw one again it might be too soon. The SEAL had spent far more time in hospitals in the last two years than was strictly healthy.
Danny stared out as the crashing rain obscured the road as they drove toward Steve's. The detective had no doubt that he wasn't heading to his house, but to his partner's family home. He knew he should be unsettled by that fact, but he wasn't, this was a good thing. He'd wanted to believe that he was ready to face the world on his own, but that just wasn't the case. The path back to his old life was bound to full of pitfalls and rocky roads, so he might as well have some company.
H50 H50 H50 H50
Steve stared out the back-lanai porch at the raging surf of the Pacific Ocean. The sun was still hours from making its daily journey across the skies of Oahu. He lifted the glass of scotch to his lips and allowed the burning liquid to slide down his throat. Strictly speaking he wasn't supposed to be drinking yet. But today had been a rough one, so he'd decided to forgo the pain meds in order to partake. He leaned back in the chair, lifting his feet and crossing his legs at the ankles as he settled them on another chair. He'd gotten Danny settled in the guest room that Steve had come to think of as Danny's room.
Over the past two years, his friend had spent enough time in his house that it didn't feel quite right when Danny wasn't there. Steve took another drink. He supposed that it might be different if Catherine were around, but she wasn't and he didn't have a clue when, or if, he'd see her again. That was a far more painful thought than he was willing to suffer through, so he changed his line of thinking.
Was this whole thing over? History told him that 'no', it probably wasn't. The brother of the kid he'd killed last year hadn't managed to kill either Steve or Danny; so, the chances were at least even that he'd try again. That sent a chill through the Navy SEAL. He couldn't predict what the guy would try next and Danny was in no condition to go through another bout of torture or another abduction scenario. What are my options here?
One, he could track this guy down and kill him before he tried to kill another member of Steve's Ohana. Two, they could sit back and wait for the guy to come after them again and hope like hell that he didn't catch them unprepared. I hate that plan. Three, he could bring his team up to speed and they could decide together how they should proceed.
The sound of crutches clicking over his hardwood floors caused him to shift and turn toward the entryway to the kitchen. Danny slowly made his way across the floor before sinking down into the chair across from Steve. "You drinking alone?"
"My drinking buddy is on a strict no alcohol regimen."
"Only if I want to take the pain meds. Last I checked, aren't you on meds too?" Danny's blonde eyebrow lifted in question.
Steve shrugged. "Technically speaking."
"Technically speaking?" The Jersey detective huffed. "There is no 'technical' about it, Steven, either you are, or you are not on medical orders to avoid alcohol?"
For what felt like the millionth time during their long and storied friendship, Steve McGarrett felt the old urge to banter with his friend. It was both welcome and unexpected. He had hoped that this part of his relationship with the snarky man from the mainland hadn't been destroyed over the last two years. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he stared at Danny. "Alcohol helps me sleep."
"Of course, it helps you sleep, it's a depressant, Steve."
He could see that Danny wanted to continue, but instead he slipped into silence. A loud crack of thunder caused the smaller man to jump. He groaned as his body protested the movement in a painful spasm.
"Danny, hey man, you okay?" He was moving before he realized what he was doing.
The blonde held up a hand and forced the grimace from his tired features. "I'm fine. Just startled me is all."
Steve wasn't sure if he was buying what his partner was selling, but he decided to give Danny the benefit of the doubt. He took another sip of the alcohol and waited for his friend to settle himself into the other chair.
Danny laid the crutches next to the chair and then pulled the beach towel off the back, laying it over himself like a terri cloth blanket. He stared out at the crashing surf in silence.
Without meaning to Steve settled back into a similar position and simply watched the ocean surge and swell with the passing of the storm. He didn't say anything and eventually Danny did what Danny always did, he started talking.
"I don't think this is over." He said quietly.
Steve shifted his gaze to the other man, "I'm not sure that it is either." He reluctantly agreed.
Danny sighed, "So what are we going to do about that?"
The word 'we' caught inside the SEAL's brain and he couldn't help the small smile. At least Danny didn't think he was in this alone. "Well, we are going to get you healthy again. And then we are going to track this guy down and put an end to it."
"That's a lot of we's."
"Yes, yes it is. But if you think I'm letting you out of my sight until this is over? You're crazy."
Danny bristled at the comment. "I'm not a child Steven. You can't just ground me and force me to stay home for the next year."
"When it comes to this?" he gestured between them. "I can." Steve took a stilted breath. "Danny, I almost lost you this time. I still see—" he broke off as his voice cracked.
The injured man swallowed thickly. "I know. Me too."
"So, you can't try and protect me from this. It's too late for that. I need to know we're in this together?" It was the most vulnerable thing he'd ever admitted to. Steve couldn't keep doing this without Danny.
Danny pulled his lower lip between his teeth and shifted so he was looking straight at Steve. "Always." He answered softly.
Steve felt the weight around his heart slip away and he smiled before settling back against his chair. "Okay."
"Okay." Danny parroted quietly.
"Guess we get back to it as soon as you're medically released."
"That could be a while Steven."
"Nah, I bet it'll be quicker than you think."
Danny's eyebrows lifted questioningly. "And why is that?"
"Because stubborn New Jersey detectives heal faster than the average cop."
Steve heard the snort of laughter from his friend and he couldn't help but glance over fondly. While this wasn't over, it was at least on pause; and he could live with that…at least for a few weeks.
H50 H50
The plane touched down on the tarmac even as the heavy rain threatened the safety of those aboard. Gustavo glanced over at the six men he'd brought with him. They'd packed for a long stay, because what they had planned for the Five-O task force's commander? Well, that would take time to implement. And frankly, he wanted to play with both of the men that slipped through his fingers in Colombia. So for now, he would bide his time and put his plans into place. He looked at his phone, July 17th…by Christmas, both of these men would wish that they had just died in that prison. Because life was about to become a living hell.
The Almost End...
Author's Note: I am transitioning to a new story with the final installment of this series. "Say it isn't Real"; So, keep an eye on the posts. Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed, I appreciate the comments and support. Mahalo!
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