Dear readers, as some of you who follow my blog already know, my dad passed away a bit over a week ago. As you can imagine updating a story isn't a priority at the moment.
But we also know that some of you are eagerly awaiting a new chapter. So, for all of you who support us with your reviews, this chapter is for you. Thanks for your support.
A Wrinkle in Time
by Sym64 and Cokie316
Chapter 15
Steve pushed open the door to room 507 after a short knock. He had expected his friend to be in bed, but was surprised to see him sitting at the table in the room.
"Hey, look at you, buddy," Steve called out and lay his hand on his shoulder. "How are you doing?"
"How am I doing?" Freddie asked in astonishment after seeing Steve's bruises. "What the heck happened to you?"
"Ah, you know, normal day at the office," Steve said and told his friend about his mishap on his last mission.
"Shit, man. Are you OK?"
"I'm fine," Steve assured him. "So, what's the deal with your surgery? I thought you were at Tripler Rehab-Center?"
"Yeah, I am. But they said I'm healed enough to stitch up my insides," Freddie told him with a grin. "You know, this is getting pretty annoying." He motioned to his belly.
"I can imagine," Steve said and absentmindedly flexed the fingers of his casted arm. He slightly winced when again pain flared up.
"So, did you ask?"
"What? Ask who what?"
Freddie gave him a wicked smile. "Don't play dumb, Dog. You know what and you know who."
Steve grinned at his best friend, who had told him not to mess it up with Rollins. "Well, we're living together… but barely, really. My dad's still in the house, and we just moved here. So…"
"What are you waiting for? Don't waste any precious time, Steven. Go buy a ring already."
"What's gotten into you? I'm pretty sure I didn't come here so we can talk about my love life?" Steve tried to change the subject.
Freddie shook his head. "No, that's not why I wanted to see you today. But it's still fun to bust your chops."
"So, what's the deal then?"
"I need to ask a favor."
"Anything. You know that," Steve said and leaned back in his chair.
"I want you to take care of my two girls if anything happens to me."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Steve called out and sat straight up. "You're gonna be just fine."
"Listen to me, please. This injury got me thinking. It would put my mind at ease if I knew that you would look after Kelly and our baby," Freddie softly said.
Steve shook his head and looked down. He knew their jobs were dangerous, and that they could be killed. But his friend's request came at an odd time. "Why now, Freddie?" he quietly asked, looking at his friend's earnest features.
"I told you, this injury showed me my mortality," Hart answered.
"Bullshit," Steve called out. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
"No. I just… Steve, I don't know… this just scared the shit outta me."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Steve replied. "You scared me too, man."
"I won't be going back out in the field, you know. But, this showed me that it could all be over in a heartbeat. And the thought that Kelly and my baby wouldn't have anyone… that is just really hard, you know."
"They have your parents. And… if something happens to you, they will have me and Catherine. You know I would check on them regularly," Steve assured his friend.
"I know that. But I want to ask for more than that, Steve. Kelly has no family, and I have no brothers or sisters beside you."
"Where are you going with this?"
"I talked to Kelly, mom and dad. If anything happened to the both of us, we want you to be our baby's guardian."
"What?" Steve looked in stunned silence at his best friend. "Me?"
"You," Freddie confirmed. "I know what I'm asking of you, but you are my best friend. You are the best person I know. And I know… I know you would love my baby girl like she was your own."
"Freddie, I don't know what to say. This… I mean… I love you, man… and of course I will take care of Kelly and the baby if anything ever happened to you… but are you sure about me being your kid's…"
"Yes, I've never been more sure of anything," Freddie interrupted. "Will you do that? Promise me. Please."
Steve looked at his friend. He knew that he would do anything for him, but could he take on the responsibility of being a dad to his best friend's unborn daughter? It was not a question if he was willing to do that, but would he be a good dad? "Are you really sure about this?"
"Hundred percent."
"You have to promise me something first."
"What's that?" Freddie asked.
"To do your absolute best about not ever needing me to step in. Promise me?"
"Well, duh, it's not like I'm planning on croaking anytime soon," Freddie said with a grin. "I promise, OK?"
"OK," Steve said and smiled at his friend. "I promise to take care of your baby girl, and also Kelly. And I assure you, Cath will also be a part of their lives."
"Thank you, Steven. You have no idea what this means to me. Thanks, brother. I've talked to some people here and they are going to help us draw up the papers."
"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"
"I have," Freddie replied. "Just wanted your consent before I did anything. Now… tell me about this new, cushie job you have. You get those bruises sittin' behind your desk or is Rollins rough on you?"
"Don't you ever listen to anything? I told you I got them in my last op."
"Yeah, likely story… and exactly where was that again?"
H50 – H50 – H50
After leaving his friend Steve made his way to the orthopedic department where he had an appointment to get his arm checked. He had denied any problems to Cath, but deep down he knew that something was not right. Ever since he had fallen on it in the alley, the pain had steadily gotten worse and it now really hurt to move his fingers.
He also planned to talk to his doctor about the still present pain in his lower back, which was getting rather annoying. It wasn't an intense pain, but it was very uncomfortable and made walking more painful than it was already due to his hip injury.
"Commander McGarrett, please have a seat, Dr. Floras will be with you in a few minutes," the nurse told Steve when he arrived.
"Thank you." Just his luck that the same doctor who had treated him was on call.
Ten minutes later Steve was sitting in one of the exam rooms, facing Captain Floras. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."
"No problem, it has been rather quiet the last few days." Floras glanced down at the chart to refresh himself of Steve's injury, then looked back at his patient. "What can I do for you today, Commander?"
"Well, early Friday morning I fell during a struggle…"
"Struggle? What do you mean by that? I think you should start at the beginning."
Steve silently groaned, and wondered how to tell his doctor what happened without it looking too much like something he was not supposed to do. "I worked on an undercover assignment that ended in an arrest. During a little struggle with one of the suspects, I fell to the ground. That is when I hit my arm… and my hip."
Captain Floras sighed loudly and shook his head. But, at least he did so with a smile on his face. "I see. Did you feel a shift, or any sharp pain?"
"Pain. Definitely pain, but no shifting or anything like that," Steve replied.
"Can you make a fist?"
"Not really, no," Steve confessed, and showed that he could close his hand only halfway before the pain flared up again.
"Commander, this doesn't look good. We need to get an x-ray, but I'm pretty sure you have fractured your arm."
"But there is no crack in the cast; it looks OK," Steve said and looked at his casted left arm.
"There might just be enough room inside the cast for the bone to shift. But let's not jump to conclusions before we know what is going on. Fact is, you are in pain, and you shouldn't be," Floras explained.
"Ehm…"
"Is there something else, Commander?"
"Yeah, well, my lower back has kinda been hurting since the accident," Steve said.
"Since you fell yesterday?"
"No, since the parachute accident. It started the day after, but it never stopped. And now it's getting really uncomfortable," he explained.
"Well, compensating for your hip injury, your back muscles are under a lot of stress. You don't have your normal posture, and not your normal gait, that puts a lot of stress on your back."
"The doc who treated me first said something like that. But I thought it would get better," Steve said.
"It will take some time. How bad is the hip and groin pain?"
"Could be better," Steve grumbled.
"You are wearing the brace I gave, aren't you?"
"Ehm… sometimes," Steve said. He had put it on every morning, but as soon as he had arrived at HQ it had come off.
"I know it's uncomfortable… Tell you what, I think a good fit for you would be CombatPro compression shorts," Captain Floras told Steve.
"Combat-what?"
"Compression shorts like athletes wear. They will help with your hip injury. You can get them in any sports store, or order them online."
"Uh huh." Steve chose not to comment on that.
"Now, let's take an x-ray, and after that, I also want to take another good look at all your bruises. But the x-ray first."
Less than twenty minutes later Steve heard the news that his left arm was indeed broken. And to make matters worse they had to take off the cast, re-set the arm and put a new cast on.
"Are you sure? I mean, can't I just keep this one?" Steve asked, not looking forward to the procedure of setting his obviously fractured arm.
"Oh sure, we can leave it like this. But the bones wouldn't heal very well; the bones are not properly aligned," Floras said and pointed to the small shift visible on the x-ray.
"OK, fine. Let's get it over with," Steve resigned to his fate.
H50 – H50 – H50
Steve grumbled all the way to his truck about hospitals in general, and, in particular, the two doctors who had set his arm. And almost broke his thumb in the process. He looked down at his casted arm, resting in a sling. He knew that thing would land in the glove box as soon as he got into in his truck. Of course that would mean his cast would be visible for all to see. His black cast. Not blue. So, everyone with half a brain would know that he had a new cast.
"Damn it," Steve again cursed and unlocked his truck. He glanced at his watch; still not used to having it on his right wrist. At 10:30 on a Saturday, he felt a little lost, but climbed into his truck, deciding to go help his dad pack some boxes. He picked up his phone before backing out of the parking space, intending to call Cath. But his phone rang instead.
"Steve, you still with Freddie?" his dad asked.
"Nah, I'm heading home. Thought I'd help pack some boxes."
"Not now," John said. "Cath and I are heading out. Can you meet us just north of the Sea Park on Kalanianaole Highway?"
"Sure, what's going on?"
John paused, then said, "Duke called me a few minutes ago. You might want to call some of the others in. There was a car accident earlier and former Governor Pat Jameson is dead. I want to get a good look at the scene while HPD is still on site."
Steve sucked in his breath. What the hell's going on? he thought. With a sigh, he said, "Meet you there." He glanced in his mirrors, flipped the toggle switch for the truck's lights, made a U-turn, and sped away toward the coast.
So much for days off.
H50 – H50 – H50
Steve had called his second in command after his turn-around in the road and arrived at the accident site at the same time as Chin. They parked at the end of a long line of police cars and walked together toward the site where the car had gone over the embankment.
"Do we have anything yet, Duke?" Steve greeted the older Officer.
"Not yet, Steve. Hello, Chin," Duke greeted the Captain in passing. "Governor Jameson's aide survived but the crash killed both the driver and Jameson. The ME is down there now, but nothing else has been disturbed. I thought 5-0 would be interested."
Steve nodded and looked down at the site before checking out the scene around them. He hadn't seen his dad's truck or Catherine's car when he arrived and assumed they were tied up in traffic. Chin was talking with two officers where a line ran from the guardrail down to the accident site. "Thanks, Duke." Steve left to meet with them.
"Thanks for the line, Sergeant," Steve told the officer standing there and testing the woven plastic. "Chin, let's get down there."
"Steve, are you sure—" Chin stopped voicing his concern after catching the look of determination on Steve's face. "Just take it easy, OK," he said when Steve stepped off the side of the rock.
H50 – H50 – H50
"Morning, Dr. Bergman," Steve said while watching the ME zip the black bag.
"Commander McGarrett," Max nodded. "I see you have changed casts on your arm from blue to black. Very stylish."
"Yeah," Steve said with a nod, and dared Chin to say anything. "What do we have here?"
"Two dead; the driver and former Governor Jameson," he replied, speaking to both Steve and Chin. "The third passenger was the governor's aide and EMS rushed her to King's Medical prior to my arrival. I do not know her status."
Steve nodded. "These two," he indicated the body bags. "Are their injuries consistent with the crash?"
"Yes, indeed. Of course," he amended, "I will confirm that theory upon autopsy."
"Let us know what you find, Max," Chin asked.
"Of course. Now, if you are finished with me, I will take these back to my office."
"Thanks, Max," Chin said and turned to see what Steve was interested in at the rear of the car.
"Do you have something?" he asked, kneeling next to Steve.
"Look at this," he pointed, showing the bronze colored streaks on the back bumper and left rear wheel well. He glanced back up at the broken guardrail. "Looks like they might have been forced off the road. I'm thinking this wasn't an accident."
"Crime Scene guys will begin collecting evidence as soon as both bodies are top side," Chin said. "I'll get them here first. Maybe we can get a match on the paint."
Steve stood slowly and carefully moved to the other side of the black Buick Enclave. The car had tumbled upside down at least once in its downward spin. The sunroof was shattered along with all but one of the windows. There was blood on the seats, floor and roof. Papers from an open briefcase were scattered, both in the car and on the damp rocks.
"Remind them to get as much of this paper as they can," Steve remarked to the officer who was guarding the car. "Who knows; there may be something of use in it."
"Sir," the young man said and pointed to a plastic evidence bag on the seat. "We found the phone in a pool of water and got it out. Thought it could be useful."
"Absolutely," Steve agreed. "Thank you." He looked around. "Anything else, other than the briefcase? A purse, maybe?"
"Nothing, Sir."
"How about the trunk?" Chin asked, going to the rear of the car again. "The left side is bent in but the lock is still closed. We can pry it open."
"Yeah," Steve agreed, finding the nearest tech. "Anyone have a crowbar?"
"Yes, Sir. I'll have it for you in a moment."
Steve and Chin remained at the back of the vehicle with the tech who brought the tool to pop the trunk. Steve heard, "Nice cast you have, Commander," spoken low in his left ear. He turned and saw Catherine walk past, her phone out to record her own photos of the scene. Her smile appeared to be an evil one and he knew she would be full of questions as soon as she had a chance.
His attention turned back to the car when the trunk opened with a creak of twisted metal. Inside were four bags, all intact. "Good, they can go to the lab. Still no purse."
"We sent one purse to the hospital with the aide. Her name is Michelle Inoka. Didn't see one for Jameson."
"Steve, here's another phone," Cath said, looking under the front wheel. "It's pretty badly damaged."
"Good. Bag it," he requested and turned upon hearing a shout from the rocks above. Several feet away from the crash site, a tech was pointing into a crevasse. "Got a black bag over here. Must have been thrown from a window."
"Good work. Let's get everything back to the lab."
He looked at the group of people working at the top of the cliff and paused on one face before scanning the rest. "Hey, Cath," he called out quietly, turning toward the ocean.
"What's wrong," she asked, seeing the perplexed look on his face.
"Look up at 2 o'clock and check out the woman in the bright pink shirt. Does she look familiar?"
Cath glanced up and scanned the scene, then looked back at the car, showing disinterest. "The woman we got from the traffic cam near where Jerry was killed."
He nodded. "My thought, too. Sergeant, get someone on the radio to detain the woman in the pink shirt up top."
"Yes, sir," the young man said, pulling out his radio. "Uh, pardon me, Sir, but what woman?"
Steve and Cath both looked and the woman in the pink shirt had vanished.
H50 – H50 – H50