A/N: So, technically I wrote this fic two years ago but completely forgot to upload it here… Shame on me!
The point of this fic? I just wanted a reason for Steve to pass out in the car.
Gutted
"We've been on this case for over forty-eight hours and just when we get everything under wraps, you allow one of them to get the drop on you and gut you with a machete," Danny ranted as he gestured wildly at the parking lot where they had just taken down their last suspects in a murder case.
From where he was sat in the ambulance, Steve rolled his eyes. It was so typical of Danny to think that everything that happened in the world was his world. As if he liked getting cut up by a machete. He didn't, because it hurt and it warranted him a trip to the hospital because the laceration needed to be stitched up.
"Hey, don't you roll your eyes! I am serious here!" Danny yelled, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. "I know you are, Danny! I didn't see him, okay?" Steve spat back as he bolted into a sitting position on the gurney. The pain that flared up in his gut made him hiss and immediately various sets of hands were on him, urging him to 'lay down' and 'take it easy'. He waved them away, opened his eyes and glared at Danny. The Jersey detective stood with his hands on his hips, an unreadable look on his face.
"What?"
"You're bleeding again," Danny nodded at the bandage around Steve's waist. There was indeed a growing spot of blood on the pristine white gauze.
One of the EMT's looked at Steve, "We really need to go, Commander," her blue eyes boring into his, "this laceration needs to be cleaned out and stitched up. The longer you lay here arguing-," she glared at Danny, "-the bigger the risk of infection setting in. Besides you had already lost a substantial amount of blood before we got to you."
Danny raised his eyebrows at the EMT's audacity but then waved his hand, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just make sure he behaves." He then turned around and walked back to Chin and Kono, who were wrapping things up. The ambulance took off.
"How's the boss?" Chin asked, eying the ambulance that drove away. They had not been oblivious to Steve's and Danny's argument. He knew Danny was worried and took it out on Steve. It had been quite scary.
Steve had had this smirk on his face when he told Danny to 'book them', then there had been a clattering from behind one of the dumpsters and before they had well and truly realised what was going on, the man had swiped his machete at Steve, managing to hit the SEAL right underneath his Kevlar-vest.
Kono had kicked the man to the ground and with combined effort of Danny, handcuffed him. Chin had been the first one to notice Steve standing still, one hand placed underneath his vest, blood trickling between his fingers and dripping onto the concrete.
The next moment Chin had seen Steve's knees buckle and the man had dropped to the ground, still managing to keep his upper body upright in sheer stubbornness. It was then Kono and Danny had looked up and chaos had ensued.
Chin had called for an ambulance, Kono had spouted a thousand questions at Steve, Danny had put his hand on top of Steve's, creating more pressure, eliciting a painful groan from Steve. When the ambulance had arrived and stabilised Steve, Danny had started to fume. As Steve had tried to talk the paramedics out of taking him to the hospital, the detective had almost yelled his head off. Steve on his part had probably been too fed up to argue with his partner and had shrugged. That's when Danny began to blame Steve for getting cut.
"He's fine," Danny grouched and fished the car-keys out of his pocket. The idiot who managed to get a drop on Steve had already been taken away. Better for him because Danny wasn't sure what he would have done to that loser if he had still been here.
"Where are you going?" Chin asked, exchanging a quick glance with Kono.
"The office."
"Forty stitches, eh? Looks like you got lucky," Chin shook his head as he handed Steve a glass of water. They were currently back at McGarrett's house, Steve freshly discharged from the hospital and resting comfortably on the couch.
He took a few sips from the water and leant his head back, "Yeah. Doc said that if that thug had had any more momentum in that swing, I wouldn't be sitting at home right now."
Chin raised his eyebrows and sat on the chair opposite of Steve, "How long are you out for?"
Steve leant over to put the glass on the table, stopped in his tracks and decided that holding onto his glass for a little while longer wasn't that bad of a move. The wound was now throbbing in full glory and Steve just hoped he hadn't ripped any stitches. It sure felt that way. "Uh, they'll take the stitches out in two weeks. Until that time I have to take it easy. Light duty and all that," Steve vaguely motioned with his hand. Chin looked skeptical.
"What's that look for?"
Chin shook his head, took a swig of his own glass of water and rubbed his eyes, "Nothing brah, I am just glad you are okay," he concluded with a smile.
Steve hummed and looked at his hands. "How's...How's Danny?" he softly asked. It had been almost two days since he'd last seen his partner. He had actually expected for the detective to show up when Steve had notified them he'd have to stay a day in the hospital for a twenty-four hour dose of intravenous antibiotics. He did tell them not to worry and take a day off, he'd be fine after all, but he'd still expected Danny to show up. He hadn't shown.
Chin sighed and leant forward, elbows resting on his knees and his hands interlocked, "He's been doing paperwork at the office. Plus it is Grace's weekend. I bet he's just busy," Chin smiled kindly, the smile fading when he saw the hurt look in Steve's eyes. "He's mad at me, isn't he?" Steve got up with a groan, his hand putting supportive pressure on the wound as he went. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner as Chin wanted to get up and help him. He set the glass on the table and started pacing.
"Look Steve, I think he's just worried," Chin began, but was cut off when Steve sent him a glare.
"He has a funny way of showing it," Steve spat.
Oh, this was going just splendid, Chin thought. The police lieutenant stayed seated, not wanting to aggravate Steve's agitation. He assessed the man for a moment, not liking the pallor of his skin and the way his unoccupied hand clenched and unclenched. Steve should be resting, not pacing like a wolf in a cage. Unable to see Steve put so much stress on himself, Chin got up and halted Steve in his tracks. "He'll come 'round, brah. Give him and yourself some time," Chin spoke kindly, peering into Steve's tired eyes.
Looking at Chin for a moment but then deciding his colleague was right, Steve seemed to crumble. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. His shoulders drooped. "Yeah, you're probably right. I should-...I'm going to get some rest, if you don't mind. Thanks for coming over, Chin. I appreciate it," Steve spoke and looked away. He padded off to the stairs leading to his bedroom. With one foot on the first step, he half-turned, still not meeting Chin's eyes and spoke, "Look after him, will ya?"
As Chin acquiesced, Steve walked upstairs in crawled in his bed, hoping his partner would come over soon.
Danny didn't come over. After the four prescribed days of bedrest and a quick check-up with his GP, Steve was deemed fit enough to resume some light activity, albeit begrudgingly on the doc's behalf. Under no circumstances was he allowed to run after baddies, take out thugs or do anything more physical other than taking the stairs. Steve, this time, had grudgingly obliged, had answered the doc's question that he was still taking his painkillers and antibiotics and that he cleaned the bandage every two to three days, and had politely shaken the man's hand when he was allowed to go.
The laceration was healing way too slow, the site still painful to the touch and bled sluggishly from time to time. He had to clean the bandage twice a day, rather than once every three days. He knew it was foolish not to mention, but he had to get back to the office, speak to Danny. It was his only goal at this moment and a stupid cut wasn't going to keep him from achieving that goal.
Carefully stepping into his Silverado, Steve made his way to HQ. When he arrived he saw his team standing at the computer unit, discussing a probable new case. He cleared his throat and smiled as Kono and Chin turned around, both excited to see their boss back on his feet. Steve focussed his attention back at Danny as Kono hugged him. The Jersey detective looked at him, their eyes meeting, and gave a nod. Okay, this wasn't what Steve had expected but at least the man had acknowledged the fact that Steve was there and hadn't completely ignored him like he had the past four days. Steve would get to the bottom of this.
For now he listened to Chin rambling off the details of a money heist gone wrong. Steve tried to focus but between the pain in his gut and sneaking glances at Danny, he wasn't really paying attention. Kono got a phone call from HPD, indicating they had a possible lead on the perps. Chin, Kono and Danny immediately sprang into action, leaving Steve behind to deal with paperwork.
He had been at it for nearly three hours when Chin and Danny returned, looking worse for wear but okay in general. He got up, moved too fast and had to hold on to his desk, waiting for the wave of pain to pass. The doc had warned him that the machete hadn't only cut through skin but had also managed to sever his abdominal muscles. It would cause a certain instability until the muscles would regenerate. Maybe it was time to come clean to his team about what had actually occurred in the hospital. He righted himself and was about to step out of his office when he heard Danny and Chin in a heated discussion.
"- last thing on my mind," he heard Danny growl, his back towards Steve's office. "Doesn't matter, you could at least talk to the guy. He's your partner," Chin bit, his arms crossed at his chest. Steve saw Danny's shoulders sag as the man spoke, "Just...just not now. I can't. Not yet," then he walked out and ignored Steve standing in the doorway.
"Danny?" Steve called out. "See you tomorrow, Steve," the man said and briskly walked out, leaving a confused Steve and frustrated Chin behind.
He got the phone call somewhere around one p.m. It was a distressed Chin who told him about Kono not coming home and wasn't picking up her phone. They had tried to triangulate her phone but had been unsuccessful. "I'm on my way."
It would have been so much easier for Steve to follow his GP's orders if one of his colleagues' life wasn't on the line. He disregarded any warning of strenuous activity and dove into the case headfirst. When they had gotten a ransom call from the idiot who took Kono, he had been stupid enough to leave his phone's GPS on, making it very easy for them to locate the thug. Despite being inexperienced, the thug had known a whole lot about chemical compounds and had managed to get the drop on Kono by injecting her with an anaesthetic that was fast-acting but thankfully didn't leave any after-effects.
The guy had freaked when he realised H50 was onto him and had made a futile escape attempt. Steve had gone after him, the adrenaline fuelling every fibre in his body, enabling him to ignore the sickly feeling in his gut. The guy hadn't gone down without a fight and had managed to land a few punches and kicks. The hits to his face he had barely felt, but the blow to his gut made Steve stagger backwards. Thankfully Danny and a couple of agents from the HPD came in for back-up. Steve didn't miss Danny's glance at his direction as Steve tried to catch his breath and gauge whether the wet feeling was sweat or blood.
Kono had been looked after by the paramedics and they had decided to take her to the hospital for a series of blood-works and overnight observation. Chin had followed the ambulance.
It left Steve and Danny.
Danny didn't say a word as he tossed the keys at Steve and got in at the passenger's side. For once Steve didn't feel like driving at all. He could tell something was definitely off and should get home as soon as possible. The cold sweat didn't help either. Or the fact that Danny still wasn't speaking to him. Fuelled by his frustration, Steve got in and started the Camaro.
They sat in tense silence, Danny looking out of the window and Steve not trying to start a conversation. He couldn't, even if he wanted to. A darkness was creeping at the edges of his vision and little stars kept flashing before his eyes. He was so exhausted. His hands were sweaty but he gripped the steering wheel tighter, willing himself to focus on the wavering road. He shifted in his seat, barely stifling a groan as the pain spiked up tenfold.
"-eve,"
"Steve!" a hand pulled at the steering wheel, redirecting the car in the correct lane. Steve opened his eyes, looking wildly at the road, realising he had just zoned out. Next to him Danny was holding the steering wheel. "Pull over, Steve," he spoke.
Steve looked at him, frowning but obliged. When they pulled up in the empty parking lot of a local abandoned grocery shop, Steve cut the engine and leant back, pressing one hand underneath his vest and felt the slick blood seeping through the bandage and his black t-shirt.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" Danny asked but Steve noticed, despite him feeling as if he was going to pass out any minute, that Danny's voice was void of any anger. Instead some concern had managed to creep through.
"Tired," Steve mumbled, leaning his head against the seat.
"Yeah, I can see that. You nearly crashed into a bus," Danny said as he narrowed his eyes. Oh, he definitely knew something was up and it wasn't just Steve's tiredness. "Get out of the car, I am driving," the detective ordered, his senses on high-alert. There was no way Steve could drive them back to HQ, not with the way he was looking: pale, sweaty, unfocussed. He hadn't missed the way Steve carefully held his abdomen, either.
Steve looked at him, confused, but then blinked and nodded, croaking out, "Yeah."
He tried, by Gods he tried, but he couldn't get out of the car even if he wanted to. His legs were Jell-o and his hands trembled too much for him to even take off his seatbelt. Danny rapped his knuckles against the window of the driver's side. Steve flicked his eyes at Danny and let go of the pressure he was applying on the laceration. He unlatched the door handle, vaguely aware of blood staining the latch.
"Okay, time for you to-," Danny halted in his tracks, "Steve is that blood?"
When Steve failed to respond, he looked at his blood-stained hand, "Huh."
"Jesus Steve, why didn't you tell me you were bleeding?" Danny grouched as he squatted next to Steve, trying to get Steve out of his Kevlar vest. Now that did elicit a response from Steve. The SEAL pulled away, as far as possible in the car and glared at Danny. "Tell you? You have been avoiding me for almost five days, Danny," Steve wheezed, swatting away Danny's hands.
"Steve, it's not what you thi-," Danny began but was nearly pushed onto his backseat as Steve lurched forward and exited the car. "I think it's exactly what I think!" Steve spat, pressing a trembling hand against the wound again, he had to get this out of his system before he actually collapsed. Danny had to know. "You blame me for everything that happens. You think I like getting shot at? Or thrown into a wall or get cut up like man-sushi?" he continued, watching Danny get up with a concerned look on his partner's stupid face. Oh, he could throttle the man right now.
"Steve, just sit down, okay? You are really bleeding," Danny held out his hands in a placating manner, as he would when trying to calm a restless dog. "Don't change the subject!" Steve howled, taking a staggering step back as his balance started to play tricks on him.
"I am not-... Steve, come on, this is insane. Just come sit in the car. I'll take you home and we can discuss this, yeah?"
Steve blinked at him, frowning. Home? Home sounded good right now. But things still weren't settled between Danny and him. "We discuss it back home, yeah babe?" Danny tried again. He surged forward as suddenly Steve's legs seemed to give out on him. He managed to pull most of Steve's weight on his shoulder, the SEAL breathing heavily.
"It's not my fault, okay?" Steve managed to ground out. No matter how close he was to passing out, he still tried to make Danny understand.
"I know, Steve," Danny sighed as he managed to man-handle Steve back into the car. As he made to leave, Steve grabbed his wrist.
"It isn't my fault, Danny, please..."
Danny looked into Steve's weary eyes. His heart broke. "I know buddy, I know. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" Steve let go of his wrist.
All the way during the car ride back to McGarrett's home, Danny kept shooting glances at the barely conscious man. He had a half-mind of turning around and driving to the hospital. Danny actually jumped in his seat when Steve muttered: "Don't even th'nk 'bout going to the hosp'tal."
Danny wanted to tell Steve that he was stupid and foolish and that the hospital was the only place he should be at right now, but that definitely wouldn't help the situation they were currently in. A sigh was his response.
He still didn't know how he managed to get Steve inside of the house, on the couch and his Kevlar-vest off. He raised the man's legs, hoping it would help his colleague recover a bit. The bandage that covered the laceration from Steve's hip to navel was soaked. Danny grabbed the first-aid kit and put on a pair of gloves. Steve hardly winced as Danny pulled off the bandage. Danny had known that the cut Steve had been dealt was a serious one. But as he saw the actual laceration he had to swallow twice.
There was no infection, yet the skin looked red and a large haematoma had spread all the way from the cut to Steve's hip and loin. As Danny cleaned the wound he noticed that six stitches had ruptured, causing the wound to leak. He grabbed a wad of sterile compresses and placed them on the bit where the sutures had popped and applied a new band-aid.
When he looked up from his handiwork he spotted Steve looking at him through hooded eyes. "How you feeling?" Danny asked as he took off the gloves. Steve kept looking at him in the way Danny thought the man had sustained a head injury and was having a bleed in his brain, when Steve weakly answered, "'m fine."
Danny had to refrain from rolling his eyes, "Yeah, I can see that. I really think you should go to the hospital, Steve. That bruising around the laceration? I don't think that's healthy."
Steve tried to crane his neck and look at the site but agony exploded and he had to grab the leather couch and squeeze his eyes shut. The veins in his neck popped up and sweat pearled on his forehead. He was vaguely aware of Danny talking to him, but for now all he could do was focus on his breathing.
When the worst debilitating pain had ebbed away, Steve found himself breathing easier. Content to just lay there and gulp in oxygen, he kept his eyes closed but he was aware of someone rummaging around. A cold cloth was placed on his forehead. "Steve, please, I am begging you. Let me take you to the hospital. Just to make sure you aren't bleeding internally," Danny's voice lulled him out of his semi-conscious state. Steve flicked his eyes open, seeing a worried and pale-looking detective staring at him. Too drained to actually speak, Steve weakly shook his head. Danny growled and started pacing, just as Steve had done three days prior.
"This is stupid, Steve! I put a band-aid on that laceration not even ten minutes ago and it is soaked again!"
His trembling hand found the way to the band-aid and when he touched it, he felt the tell-tale stickiness of his own blood. Danny was right. This was what the doc at the ED had feared. He had warned him about the internal sutures rupturing if there was trauma to this laceration. The severed muscles had most likely gotten loose and started bleeding. "If bruising, swelling and pain start to set in, you have to come to the hospital straight away. There is the most likely chance you are bleeding internally."
Isn't that what the doc had said? Steve honestly couldn't remember properly. What he did know was that his bladder was full and he really needed to take care of that. He started to struggle on the couch, trying to get his legs to work. Danny was on him immediately, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Have to get up," Steve grunted, managing to prop himself up on his elbow. The pain came in waves now. It felt wrong.
"No, why? You have to stay down!" Danny urged, both his hands trying to push Steve back onto the couch. The Jersey detective had had it, he was going to call an ambulance. "Need to take a leak," Steve answered and weakly pushed Danny's hands away.
"For crying out-...Steve, stay down, you are bleeding again," Danny's tone took on something erratic. Funny, Steve's heart was being erratic as well. He could feel the muscle pound against his ribs, sending waves of blood through his body, the sound rushing in his ears. He ignored the high-pitched ringing as he managed to clamber onto his feet. Tried to side-step Danny as the shorter man did his best to keep Steve sitting.
Steve felt something rip inside of him. A small gasp left his pale lips and he met Danny's blue, worried eyes for a moment before everything turned bright white and then black.
"Steve!"
The first thing his fuzzy mind registered was a shrill beep somewhere above him. It annoyed him. So his relief couldn't be any greater when the sound was turned off. He then noticed voices: they sort of floated. "- he okay?" he recognised that voice. Danny. His partner was there.
"Yes, one of the leads detached. His vital signs are stabilising," that voice he didn't know. It was female and kind.
"Thank you," Danny's voice spoke.
There were receding foot steps.
He probably ought to open his eyes, let Danny know he was okay. But he was too comfortable, so he allowed himself to be lulled into oblivion again.
Danny was flicking through one of the magazines Kono had given him. She had just been discharged herself and had come to visit Steve. Both Chin and she had been very worried. "You look after him, yeah?" Chin had said, giving Danny a look that if the detective didn't, they would be having a complete different conversation. Danny had nodded.
He shifted in his chair, a cushioned-one for crying out loud, and was about to settle on reading an article about 'how to talk to your ex' when he felt someone looking at him.
Looking at Steve's direction he felt the relief rush through his body as the SEAL was looking at him. "Hey," Steve whispered hoarsely.
"Hey," Danny reiterated.
Danny pushed the nurses' call button after putting aside the magazine. He got up and moved closer to Steve's bed. "You okay?" Steve muttered, looking intently at Danny.
The detective nearly laughed out loud, "I'm fine, Steve. You should worry more about yourself!"
He moved aside as the nurse entered the room and saw her patient awake. Smiling as she walked up to Steve, she cast a quick glance at the overhead monitor. "How are you feeling, Commander?" she asked politely, fuddling with various cables and catheters. Content with the readings on the screen, she looked at Steve.
"I'm fine. Pain's gone," Steve answered honestly. He then frowned, missing an obvious large chunk of time, "What happened?"
"The sutures in your muscles ripped and you started bleeding internally. You lost quite an amount of blood before you arrived at the ED," the nurse explained, her name tag read Anna. She squatted down and was looking at two different catheters. Steve tried to follow her motions as well as possible. He then realised he had a urinary catheter.
As if noticing Steve's realisation, Danny stepped closer to the bed. "It's just a precaution, Steve," he gently spoke, placing a warm hand on Steve's shoulder.
Steve's gaze turned to Danny and then flicked back to the nurse rummaging with another catheter of sorts. "What's that?" he queried.
Anna smiled, "This is the drain the doctor's have placed when you arrived here. This way the extra blood can get out and won't cause any pressure in your abdomen. That's also why we had to place the urinary catheter. The doc will explain everything when he's out of theatre. But the baseline is that the haematoma was already putting too much pressure on the rest of your body, including your bladder."
Steve nodded and allowed his eyes to drift shut. He was still feeling woozy.
He heard Anna retreat and whisper something to Danny he couldn't hear. "The nurse says your treating doctor will be here in half an hour. You better get some sleep until then, okay?" Danny spoke.
Steve flicked his eyes open, "Danny..."
"Later, Steve. You first get better, yeah?"
Sitting in a more reclined position, Steve shook the doctor's hand. The man was wearing a white coat over his green scrubs and Danny spotted some very garish looking socks with pink flamingoes.
"Do you mind if I sit, Commander?" the doctor asked and sat down as Steve shook his head, "I'm doctor Brenner, and the one who operated you."
"So, I will tell you about the same as I told detective Williams last night," Brenner spoke, looking serious, "When you received that laceration, my colleague had to sew a large part of the muscles that had been severed. I know my colleague told you to keep it easy and avoid any strenuous activities. I think getting punched in the gut can be classified as a...strenuous activity. However, after being told what the reason was for you being outside, kicking ass and taking names, I won't say anything about that anymore. The reason why you are here is because the muscles started bleeding again, even before you got into a fight. It shouldn't be allowed, but it happens. Now, since the external sutures were still holding, most of the blood started pooling in the layer between your muscles and skin. It's what we call a subcutaneous haemorrhage," the surgeon explained.
Steve shot a quick glance at Danny, who was paying a hundred percent attention to what Brenner was saying, and then focussed back to Brenner. "Basically you were having an internal bleed. I think it was some form of bad luck that you got kicked. In the sense that it caused the external sutures to open and allowing some of the pooled blood to get out. If that hadn't happened, well, I'm afraid we would have seen you here not much later. Because the blood didn't have any way to go it formed a large haematoma and put pressure on your bladder. That's one of the reasons why we had to place a urinary catheter. Plus we had to keep an eye on your fluid-output. After losing quite an amount of blood we needed to make sure your kidneys weren't shutting down. The drain is placed to make sure the old blood between your muscles and skin gets out. We re-sutured the muscles and the laceration."
The doctor got up, and nodded at Steve, "We are going to keep you here until the end of the week, I know that is three more days of misery for you, but it is a necessary evil," Brenner spoke as noticed his patient wanted to interject, "In those three days you will get daily blood-works to see if your haemoglobin isn't getting lower. If it does, it means you are still bleeding somewhere and you might need to get a transfusion, or in the worst case we have to open you up again."
Brenner shot a quick glance at the pager that had gone off.
"I will put in an order for the nurses to take out the urinary catheter. The drain has to stay and so does the intravenous line. We will get you transferred to a regular ward where you don't need to worry about all those cables, since your vitals have been stable for the past four hours. They still aren't optimal but they are improving," Brenner paused for a few moments, gauging his patient, "Commander McGarrett, I implore you not to sign yourself out against medical advice. Not only is it nefarious to your health, if the muscles don't get the time to heal, they may not be able to completely reattach and cause abdominal instability. Not to mention you would be honourably discharged."
Steve nodded, "I understand. Thank you," he spoke.
"All right, gentlemen. I will inform the nurses of the course of action and I will make sure to drop by this evening, if you have any questions, you can ask them then, unless you have some right now?" Brenner put his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat.
The SEAL shook his head.
Only a short hour later, Steve was transferred to a general ward. The urinary catheter had been removed, thankfully, and besides the drain and the intravenous line, Steve was free of all cables. Apart from some small-talk he and Danny hadn't really spoken yet. His partner was currently sat in a chair next to the window, flipping through a girly magazine.
Steve looked at him intently. Apparently Danny had felt the scrutiny he was under, "What's the matter, Steve?" he asked, not looking up from the article he was reading.
"Aren't we going to discuss what happened?"
Danny looked up and put the magazine in his lap, "What happened is that you passed out last night and I had to call an ambulance because you were bleeding all over your nice wooden floor."
Steve rolled his eyes, "It's not what I meant, Danny."
Danny rubbed a hand over his face. Completely discarding the magazine, he leant forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees and looked Steve dead in the eye, "I know it's not what you meant, but it is what happened and it scared the shit out of me, okay? You were completely unresponsive, and despite appreciating the moments when you are actually quiet, I prefer it if you answer me if I call your name. It took the EMT's ten minutes to get there and when they did all they could tell me was that 'it didn't look good.' Your heart was racing, your blood-pressure had dropped well below average and the haematoma had even gotten bigger," Danny spoke, his voice picking up both speed and volume as he went.
"They had to operate on you again, by the way nice of you to tell us that you had an operation the first time, gave you two units of blood, and had me sitting in the waiting room for two hours. Finally after two hours they could tell me you were stable and on your way to a room," Danny narrowed his eyes, "And you know how patient I am."
Steve listened to Danny ramble and knew the man was running his mouth because that's what Danny did when he was scared. In between the lines, Steve could read the 'we fucked up again' very clear.
"I'm sorry-," Steve began but was cut off by Danny.
"I know you are, Steve. And I am sorry too, okay? It pains me to admit it, but I haven't been a very good friend lately. The thing is-" inhale, "the thing is that seeing you get hurt, kills me inside. Because for some reason it's always you that gets shot at, or stabbed, or tortured or...or… It's not okay!"Danny jumped up and paced, "It's like you are not even trying to get out of harm's way. You are so willing to sacrifice yourself for others or for the greater good, it makes it sometimes impossible to work with you. Because every time we go out, I am afraid that it's the last time," he stopped at the foot-end of Steve's bed, "So yeah, I am scared and I know that I went too far, but even the simplest things have such huge repercussions. You are the biggest danger-magnet I have ever met," he continued.
"It's not as if I enjoy getting shot at," Steve muttered, carefully drawing his legs up, "I don't go looking for it and it definitely isn't my fault."
"No," Danny sighed and sank back down on the chair next to Steve's bed, "You just have the worst luck in the world.
Steve chuckled, which made him put a hand carefully on the freshly cleaned laceration. "What are you laughing at?" Danny grouched.
"I may have the worst luck in the world, I do have some of the best friends and colleagues I could wish for, even if one of them is an over-protective mother-hen," Steve answered kindly.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Danny muttered and looked away, the tips of his ears red.
"Ya know, for a detective, you are pretty dense," Steve smiled and closed his eyes, sleep catching up to him. "What's that supposed to mean, mister Super-SEAL?" Danny retorted but didn't press the matter. Instead he shook his head and picked up the magazine, watching Steve sleep in between paragraphs.
"Your temperature reads thirty-eight degrees Celsius, Commander," the ward-nurse, Thomas, said as he got the read-outs from Steve's vital signs he'd been taking.
Steve did feel a bit more warm than usual, "Is that a fever?" he asked.
Thomas shook his head, "A fever is when your temperature reaches thirty-eight point five or higher. You are sorta walking along the edges."
"Is it an infection?" Steve almost didn't dare ask.
Thomas smiled and shook his head again, "No, it's most likely resorption fever. It occurs from time to time in patients who have large haematomas, such as yourself. So, don't worry about it. We will keep an eye on it. Besides I am going to give you something against the pain, which also works against the fever," Thomas showed a glass bottle of IV-medication, "It'll help you feel better."
It was seven a.m. in the morning and Thomas' shift had just begun. He had had a debriefing of the patients he was responsible for and had gotten a rant from Colleen, the night-shift nurse, that the visitor of the patient in room 332 had been quite a handful. She had asked him to leave since visiting hours had been over a long time ago. The visitor had then spouted something about medical power of attorney and when that hadn't worked, he had flashed his badge. Having too many other patients to deal with, Colleen had taken Commander McGarrett's vital signs, checked on the drain, IV-fluid and bandage, and had walked out.
When Thomas had entered Commander McGarrett's room, only the patient had been present. Said patient had been awake and had granted him a small smile. Thomas had introduced himself and had explained Steve that he would be taking care of him.
"I heard from my colleague that you had a visitor stay with you last night?" Thomas asked, daring himself on thin ice as he put away the digital thermometer and scribbled the vital signs in Steve's dossier. "Yeah, I am sorry about that. He means well, but he can be overbearing from time to time," Steve explained, "I sent him home after he got into a discussion with your colleague. Could you give her my apologies?"
Thomas shook his head, "No worries about that, Commander. Colleen has been doing the job long enough to know what she can expect. Now, as for today, I am going to draw some blood and then help you up so you can clean yourself up a bit. However, if you don't feel well or if it hurts too much, I want you to tell me right away. It's too important for your health," Thomas urged.
Steve nodded again and laid still, allowing Thomas to draw blood.
After a light breakfast which consisted out of two slices of toast and a cup of bad coffee, Steve was sat in one of the big comfy chairs, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. He had managed to get himself cleaned up and shuffle towards the chair. The weakness he felt was so familiar to the time he'd gotten shanked in prison.
There was a knock on the door and Steve was glad to see Kono, Chin and Danny trooping in the doorway. "Hey you guys," he greeted with a smile.
"You are looking better, boss," Kono said and hugged him.
"So do you, how are you feeling, Kono?" Steve asked, not forgotten what had happened to his youngest colleague.
Kono shrugged as she righted herself, "Never better," she smiled.
Chin clasped Steve's hand and nodded, "Nice to see you, McGarrett."
"Like-wise, Chin," Steve smiled.
Danny came in last. He looked clean-shaven and a bit more rested than he had before. Steve was glad the detective had listened to reason and had gone home to sleep a bit.
"Hey," Steve greeted and offered Danny a real, down-to-earth smile. The detective seemed to sag in relief and smiled back, "Hey babe."
Two days later, Steve was officially sprung from the hospital. His blood-works all came back okay. The wound had stopped bleeding, the drain removed and the large haematoma was starting to turn yellow around the edges, signs it was starting to clear up. It still hurt whenever Steve tried to stretch or bend over. He was forbidden from going to HQ for at least a week and no strenuous activities whatsoever. Danny vowed the nurses at the desk that he would personally see to it that the Super-SEAL would be less Super and more Resting.
Danny drove them home and helped Steve inside. "I…eh, owe you the cost of the car-cleaning service," Steve said once they were inside and installed, "You know for bleeding all over your upholstery," he clarified as Danny looked confused. Realisation dawned on Danny's face and he chuckled, "No worries, you owe me the cost of the cleaning lady who had to scrub the blood off your nice floor."
"Guess that makes us even?" Steve asked. "It does, Steven, it does," Danny answered.
"So, uh, what are you going to do?" Danny queried after a short awkward break. Steve looked around his living room. It was meticulously clean and he had a feeling that the cleaner hadn't just scrubbed off Steve's blood. "Think I'm just going to sit on the lanai. After being cooped up inside for four days, I crave for some sunlight."
The sun was making its descend, slowly but surely reaching the horizon as the two partners sat outside on the lanai. Still looking tired and worse for wear, Steve had his eyes closed, enjoying the last rays of the sun caressing his face. Yet in that moment he looked completely at peace.
Danny glanced at him and smiled, leaning his head back against the seat of his chair. He closed his eyes and heaved a content sigh. "You know, despite being such an accident-prone danger-magnet, I am actually glad you are my partner," he spoke after a few moments.
Steve didn't open his eyes as Danny snuck a glance, but the Lt. Commander was smiling. "Despite being such an overbearing mother-hen and despite your profound hatred for pineapple, I am also glad you are my partner," Steve replied and finally looked at Danny.
The Jersey detective grinned and settled more comfortably in the chair, watching the sun dip below the horizon. "Thank you...for everything," he whispered.
"I'll always have your back, brother."
Einde
When it comes to hospitals, I use whatever knowledge I have from the hospitals in my country. I have never been in an American/Hawaiian hospital and thus don't have enough information about them. That's why I base hospitals/nurses/doctors off the hospitals in my country. To make it more legit.
A few more pointers (which can be ignored, they are not really important but I'd like to leave them here, in case people are wondering):
- Monitors in general don't beep unless a lead is detached (most likely the pulse ox) or if a vital parameter is either too high or low for it to be considered healthy. If I were a patient I'd go mad if there were beeping 24/7
- Not every nurse tell their name upon entering a room. My colleagues have the excuse: "My name is on my name tag". I am one of the morons who still introduces themselves but when a patient wakes up after being unconscious for a while they don't really care about names. They want to see a doctor and know about what happened. Tis harsh, but it's the truth
- Nurses aren't allowed to disclose diagnoses/prognoses to patients in general. That's for the docs. Unless they are given the green light to inform patients. Then again patients still want to see the doctor. Guess it sounds more legit.