A Call for Help
A/N: First off, let me say thank you to all the guests who have reviewed these stories so far. I can't thank you guys properly but I am grateful for your comments.
Also thanks to everyone who suggested ideas for future stories. I have saved a few and will hopefully work on them once I finish mine. You're welcome to suggest more, I'm always looking for something good to write about.
Here's story number four, betaed by the lovely and always helpful Ginsteer.
This is actually the first one I wrote, the one that gave me the idea to start a series. It's not really original, but I couldn't resist the prompt! A phone rings on a warm Hawaiian night: what could have possibly gone wrong?
Consciousness came slowly, gradually awakening him from the oblivion he had fallen into.
With it came pain, and Steve frowned at the sharp ache radiating from his left leg. It felt wrong, as if it had no place bothering him tonight.
He shifted slightly, groaning as he did so. His body felt heavy, and the smallest movement sparked a bout of dizziness so severe he stilled, waiting for it to pass before opening his eyes to the eerie darkness of a Hawaiian night. A warm breeze blew around him. It felt out of place too, and the throbbing in his head only added to the confusion and the uncertainty of his whereabouts.
Had he fallen asleep in the backyard?
No, it couldn't be. There were rocks and dirt under him instead of sand and soft grass.
Glancing upwards, he gazed at the night sky, at the multitude of stars shining in different shapes and size. Perhaps it was the haze clouding his mind, but they seemed brighter than ever. The familiar shape of Orion, with its four bright stars at the corners and a row of three in the middle, stared back at him. Steve smiled groggily at the sight, as if it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, until whatever injury he had sustained to his leg made him painfully aware that he should focus on something else.
He had somewhere to be… didn't he? He was not supposed to be laying there, wherever 'there' was, but even thinking seemed to hurt and the harder he tried the less his mind played along.
Pressing one hand on the uneven terrain he tried to get up and immediately regretted it when a spike of pain coursed through his skull, making his awareness wane momentarily. He cried out and fell sideways, grabbing at his throbbing head and curling up on his side.
The crushing feeling of his skull being held in a vicious grip lasted a few, miserable moments, then the fog gradually lifted. Steve wiped the sweat from his forehead and collapsed back onto the ground, breathing heavily.
Trying to move as little as possible, he attempted to assess his condition. Besides the splitting headache, the only other source of pain was his leg. With barely enough light to see what was in front of him, he relied on his touch to carefully inspect the area, determining the cause was a gunshot. He couldn't feel an exit wound though, meaning the bullet was still inside.
A bullet he had no idea what he'd done to earn.
He was supposed to… what? What was the last thing he remembered?
Gritting his teeth, he stretched his uninjured leg out and reached for his pocket, relieved to find his cell phone right where it was supposed to be.
Danny… call Danny.
Danny would know what to do…
Bloodstained fingers tapped the screen, searching for his best friend's name and pushing the buttons by pure muscle memory. It took him longer than usual, and when he eventually managed to make the call Steve pressed the phone to his ear and closed his eyes, waiting – hoping Danny would pick up.
"Hey, where the hell are you? Dinner's almost ready!"
Relief washed over him at the sound of his partner's voice and he let out the breath he'd been holding.
"...Steve? You there? Steve?"
He cleared his throat, hoping to sound better than he felt. "Danny..."
On the other end of the line Danny stilled, recognizing the pain in the other man's tone. Nine years of defying death and being on the receiving end of distressing phone calls had enhanced his ability to sense danger on the spot. "Steve? What is wrong, you alright?"
"I'm... I don't know..."
"What you mean you don't know? Where are you? What happened?"
Steve wished he had answers to that. It had been ten, fifteen minutes since he'd regained consciousness and he still didn't have a clue. "Not...sure. Just...woke up."
The soft sound he could hear in the background suddenly stopped. Was it music? Was Danny listening to music? "Woke u— Steve, you're not making any sense!"
"H-head hurts..."
Danny ran a hand through his hair, worry mounting with each distressed moan and broken word his friend managed to mutter. "Was it an accident? Were you in an accident?" He had always thought the Silverado was big and sturdy enough to protect him in case of a collision, but with Steve's tendencies to get into trouble even while on a coffee run only an armored tank would probably do the job.
"I, uh... don't know." Accident? Was he in an accident? A light briefly illuminated his surroundings and he tried to move again to see if he could spot something that would help Danny pinpoint his location. Again, nausea flared up and pain exploded in his head. "I can't...aargh, can't move..."
"I'm on my way. Stay on the phone with me, all right?"
A jumble of confusing images — people, places — flashed through his brain. "There were...men."
"Men? What men? You were just going to the store, Steve, what happened?"
"'m not sure..." he admitted. Memories kept slipping from his mind every time he tried to grasp them. "I r'member parking the truck... walking to the s-store... then nothing. Woke up... here. Don't know where here is..." His hand pressed on the wound and his heart sank at the realization that blood was still flowing freely from it, saturating his pants at much too steady a rate. "Don't feel so good, Danny..."
Danny was now officially worried. No, scratch that – panicking. Any thought of dinner forgotten, he hurried to the living room and grabbed his keys from the table by the door. "Are you hit?"
"'m I hit..."
"Steve! Hey, focus! Blood, do you see any blood?"
He sure did. Too much of it. He figured he'd live long enough to hurt like hell, and hopefully until Danny came for him.
"Leg. Can't really...move."
"It's alright, I'll find you. You just stay on the line."
Swallowing hard, Danny looked around for a moment as if lost. He knew he needed to call for help, trace Steve's phone or whatever, but was terrified to lose the connection so he held onto it and rushed outside, heading for the car.
"Danny..."
"I'm here, buddy, just stay with me..."
Sliding inside the Camaro, he revved the engine and put both hands on the wheel, ready to peel out with flashers on and siren blaring towards… where? He had no idea where to go, which direction to take. How could he help him if he didn't know where he was?
"Steve, listen to me, I need to know where you are, alright? I need you to tell me where you are."
As if it was that easy. As if he hadn't been trying since he had opened his eyes. "It's dark..." he started, 'cause that was the most obvious thing to share.
"You inside or outside?"
"Out...outside."
Danny couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing. Putting the call on speaker, he sent a quick text to Jerry to ping Steve's phone before focusing back on his partner. He needed to keep him awake, engage him in conversation. "Okay, what do you see? What's around you?"
The fleeting light he had noticed earlier came back and for a few moments he was able to see more clearly. Rocks. Shrubs. Scrawny, ghost-like trees looming around him, their branches swaying in sync with the breeze. "Trees..."
Fuck.
Smacking the steering wheel in frustration, Danny tried to hide the panic in his voice. "You see trees... alright, what kind of trees?" That didn't help. Not in the slightest. The whole fucking island was filled with trees. "I need you to narrow it down for me, buddy, alright?"
"Can't..." Tightening his grip on the cell phone for fear of dropping it, Steve shifted his weight and scooted over to his left, propping himself up against one of the trees. Dizziness hit him almost immediately. His vision blurred and he closed his eyes, breathing through tight lips.
"Come on, you're the Boy Scout of America, I'm sure you know every tree on this island so which one is it?"
"Mmmhhhmm..."
Danny shook his head. It wasn't working. Steve was obviously in a great deal of pain, he needed to do something soon or it would be too late. "McGarrett! You're a SEAL, come on, put those damn Navy skills to use. Look around and tell me where you are!"
"Okay... 'm sorry, Danny..."
The broken voice on the other end of the line almost undid him. "Nothing to be sorry about. Just... just tell me where you are."
Blood continued to leak under Steve's fingers, the coppery smell making him even more nauseous. He knew it wouldn't be long until he started feeling just how much he was losing, and he hoped to be able to give Danny the details he needed before he passed out. "There's a...light. Comes and goes..."
"A light? Alright, trees and a light. What else?"
"I... I can hear the ocean."
"The ocean... that's good, buddy, that's really good," Danny said with more confidence than he actually felt as he pulled a U-turn, heading towards the coastline. He still had nothing useful to go with, and the voice in his head telling him to put the call on hold and dial 911 was growing more and more insistent. — Wait a sec... could it be? "Steve, is it a lighthouse? Steven!"
"A lighthouse..." Steve repeated as his brain finally made the connection.
"That a yes? Is it a lighthouse that you see? Are you near one?"
"Y-yes..." Cradling the phone between his shoulder and chin, Steve used his belt as a tourniquet to try and stop the blood flow. Fine tremors started to course through his body as he tightened it above the wound and he couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips. Hopefully, what little information he'd managed to give Danny was enough to help him.
"Good. That's great," Danny nodded. That was good. He could work with that. "See, you helped me. That's really good."
Since they'd moved on the island, Grace had been fascinated with lighthouses. The peculiar shape and their purpose to guide ships back to shore had tickled her natural curiosity and she had started to ask question after question. Danny, being the good, doting father that he was, had indulged his little girl and driven her on a tour of Oahu's most famous beacons never once thinking that one day, that knowledge would've come in handy and hopefully save his partner's life. Out of the two closest locations to the store Steve had never made it to, only the Diamond Head Lighthouse had some vegetation around it.
"I did good..."
"Yes, you did, buddy. I'm coming to get you." Pressing on the accelerator, Danny weaved the Camaro through the evening traffic at a speed he'd spent years complaining about. This time it didn't matter. This time Steve's life was already on the line.
"'m tired, Danny... I need to... r-rest for a while." His voice had a hoarse note in it now, and he was forced to pause repeatedly to draw in breaths.
"No no no, stay awake, you hear me? No sleep! You wait until I get there!"
"Mmmhhhmm..."
No way.
SuperSEAL was not admitting defeat.
"Stay awake, Steven! I mean it, I need you to stay awake!"
Steve looked up at the sky, at the stars he could barely see through his blurred vision and the haze growing thicker in his head. "'m trying..."
"No trying! You just do it. You're a soldier, just use one of your tricks and hold on until I find you, okay?"
"Okay..."
He was a soldier.
He'd been through worse.
He could do it.
For Danny.
"Steve, listen to me: I'm gonna put you on hold so I can call for backup, alright? Do not end the call, you hear me? Stay on the line. I'm gonna call an ambulance and then I'll be right back with you, okay? Steve! You understand me?"
"Yeah... stay on the l-line..."
"Good. You do that, you stupid son of a bitch, and you're gonna be alright." A lump of emotion welled up in Danny's throat and he shook his head to stop the tears from falling. If they had told him that the stubborn, crazy SEAL he'd met ten years before would become the most important person in his life he would've laughed and called whoever said it an idiot. Now, the mere thought of losing him hurt so badly he immediately chased it away.
"'s okay, Danny..."
"No, it's not, but it will be. I'm gonna be there soon, alright? Just...stay on the line."
As soon as he heard the sound of the call being placed on hold Steve sighed and leaned his head back against the trunk. He wasn't sure he had the strength to hold the device much longer, so he put it on speaker and lowered his arm down to rest on his uninjured thigh.
His partner's distraught tone still echoed in his ears.
Maybe he should've apologized for scaring him again— not that he had meant it, at least this time, and based on his injuries it may not have even been his fault.
But Danny wasn't mad at him, was he? He'd promised he was on his way.
Only Steve had no more energy to spare. His leg had thankfully gone numb but his head still hurt like hell, and if the increased heart rate and breathing were any indication, he was going to pass out soon.
Focusing on anything beyond a couple of feet away was an effort in itself, and without Danny's voice to keep him awake Steve slowly started giving in to the darkness that was beckoning him. He closed his eyes, and as he began to doze he thought he heard his friend's voice again, yelling at him to answer the phone. His final thought before it all faded to black was a mental apology for leaving him hanging.
Minutes later, the Camaro screeched to a halt in front of the closed gate of the Diamond Head lighthouse. Danny jumped out of the vehicle and started calling Steve's name, over and over, not really expecting him to answer but trying nonetheless. Jerry – God bless Jerry, who spent his evenings at home surrounded by technology, had tracked the phone in record time, confirming the location.
Aided by the flashlight he always kept in the trunk courtesy of his partner's obsession with always being prepared, he frantically searched the area and eventually spotted him in a ditch on the other side of the road, slumped against a tree in a half-sitting position, eyes closed.
His face was ghostly white in the moonlight, and greasy with sweat, yet Danny was relieved to see he was still breathing. Rapid, shallow pants that were far from encouraging, and he hoped Jerry had conveyed enough urgency and authority in his call to get help there as fast as possible.
"Steve! Hey, what'd I tell you about sleeping? Wake up!" He crouched next to him with bated breath, noticing the phone still cradled in his right hand while the left was clamped over the wound in a weak attempt to stop the blood flow. Danny carefully moved it aside and examined the tourniquet he had applied, doing his best to ignore the sticky, red liquid staining his pants and pooling under him. The leak had slowed to a minimum, but he could feel how cold his friend was from the shock that had set in because of the blood loss. "That's it, open your eyes," he urged when he saw Steve's eyelids flutter. "I'm here, it's over. You're gonna be alright."
Steve blinked sluggishly at him. "Danny…"
Moving to reach beneath him, Danny sat down on the ground, shifting Steve's body to cradle him protectively against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin. "I'm here, it's alright."
"L-leg..."
"I know it hurts, babe. EMS are gonna be here soon."
"You found me..." Steve whispered, curling his lips until a flash of pain wiped the smile off his face.
"I did," Danny replied, trying not to focus on the grey pallor of his friend's face and the hint of blue on his lips. "I'll always find you. No matter what happens, or how far you go, I'll always find you."
"S-same..."
The promise, an agreement they'd honor until their last breath, was carried by the breeze through the night sky for no one but them to hear, along with the sound of emergency sirens blessedly reaching their ears.
THE END
This was the prompt:
A wakes up, wounded and disoriented. He doesn't know where he is and calls B.
B tries to calm A through the phone and get him to say where he is so he can help him.