A/N: Warning for vomiting in this chapter.
~H50~
Chapter 4
With the ringing of his phone, Steve groggily rolled over in his bed and glanced at the clock while reaching to answer the call. Any call at 1:30 in the morning couldn't be a good one, and Steve wondered if his Ohana was okay, or if their day would get started with a brand new case. The caller ID showing that it was Eric's number woke Steve up a bit, and he answered the call with a clipped "McGarrett".
"Hey McGarrett? It's, uh, …it's Eric… …"
"Eric, it's 1:30 in the morning, why are you calling me? Is Danny OK?"
"Um…yeah, I think so, I mean, he should be…I mean—"
"Eric! Spit it out! What's going on?"
Eric started to ramble a slurred response, being prompted by Steve's commanding tone, "Uncle D should be fine, I think he should still be 'sleep, but I kinda mess'd up, and I could really use your help, and I really don' wanna call Uncle D, cuz he's gonna be so pissed, and ….anyway…would you be able to come pick me up?"
"Uh, yeah, I can come get you. Are you okay? I'm assuming you aren't at Danny's house, so where exactly are you?" Steve was alert enough to hear the slurred words from Eric, but decided he could hold his speculation on the reason until he was face-to-face with Danny's wayward nephew and he knew more of the facts.
"I'm at the, uh, the Thirsty Boar. It'sa bar. I think it's about a half-mile away from the Hilton? I'm in the parking lot." Steve remained silent for a minute, prompting Eric to ask again, "…So can you come get me? Please?"
"Yeah, Eric. I'm heading out, and I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay exactly where you are, and don't do anything until I get there."
"Awesome, thank you thank you thank you. You won't call Uncle D, will you? At least not right away? Oh please don' call Uncle D, Steve! I'm beggin' here, man, please don't wake him up".
"Eric, I won't keep this from him. You had to have known that—"
Eric cut in, "Yes, I knew that, I'm just askin' not to call him yet , and to not bring him with you. Not yet."
Steve caught the break in Eric's voice, with a hint of panic, and decided that he could at least assess the situation before poking The-Bear-That-Is-Danny-Williams-Before-Coffee. "Fine, I'll hold off on calling Danny for now. Just sit tight, and don't do anything until I get there. Got it?"
"Yeah, I got it. Won't do anything."
~H50~
Steve pulled into the parking lot of the Thirsty Boar, which only had a few cars this close to last call. Steve swore out loud as he spotted Danny's Camaro, and pulled into the spot to the right of the car. "Eric?" Steve called as he exited his truck. "Eric, it's Steve, where are you?" Steve walked around to the driver's side of the Camaro, and found Eric slumped against the door, close to passed out and clutching his phone to his stomach.
Eric startled when Steve yelled his name from a crouch right in front of him, and Steve would have laughed if it had been almost any other situation. It was clear now that Eric was indeed very inebriated, a little depressed, and just a bit panicked. Steve gripped Eric by both shoulders and hauled him to his feet, holding him steady as he listed a little to the side. "Jeez Eric. What the hell were you thinking? How much have you had to drink?"
With the rapid-fire questions, Eric just looked down at the ground and tried to pull back from Steve's strong grasp. But the car was right behind him, leaving nowhere to go, and the Commander's strong grip wouldn't let him move away at all. Steve was waiting for an answer, but Eric still kept his mouth shut.
"Alright, we'll get back to that in a minute. First things first, have you thrown up at all? Do you feel like you need to?" Eric kept the movement small as he shook his head no. "No to both? Ok, good to know. Now, where are Danny's keys? I need you to hand them over."
"Bartender took 'em and didn't give 'em back when he kicked me out." Steve pursed his lips, arranged his grip on Eric's shoulder, and started a brisk pace toward the entrance of the bar. Eric couldn't do anything except try his best to keep his feet under him as Steve dragged him along. Steve walked up to the bar, pushed Eric onto a bar stool and called the bartender over.
"Hi, do you have the keys that you took from this young man? Camaro. And does he owe you anything for a tab?"
As the bartender confirmed that Eric's tab was already settled and went to retrieve the keys, Steve palmed his badge and set it on the bar. With Danny's keys now in hand, Steve indicated the displayed badge and shot off his next statement with a hint of steel in his voice. "I'm Commander McGarrett with Five-0. I need to know if you sold alcohol to this young man, knowing that he was under the legal drinking age."
"Shit, really? Guy was already started before he came in here. I could smell the beer on his breath, and his ID seemed legit—Connecticut License, it said he was 22. Had holograms and watermarks and everything." Steve's eyes tightened at his confusion when the bartender mentioned Connecticut instead of New Jersey, but he tried to keep the rest of his face blank as the man continued on. "Damn, are you gonna bust me for this? Because I legit checked his ID and everything! I swear I didn't know it was a fake."
"Alright, calm down. I believe you. I'll take care of it with the kid." Steve turned from the pissed off bartender and gave a glare to Eric…which he realized was wasted on the teen because his chin was dropped to his chest and he appeared to have dozed off a bit. Steve gave a firm shake to Eric's nearest shoulder, and he startled to awareness again. "Eric. Hand over your ID. Right now."
Eric now looked a little green, either at the command or from the movement of Steve's hand, but he still reached into his pocket. Steve snatched the fake ID as soon as it came into view, gave a quick goodbye to the bartender, then pulled Eric up and frog-marched him back out of the bar.
Even with the tight grip that Steve had on him, Eric was unable to keep from stumbling and swaying on the way to the truck. Eric's lack of coordination reminded Steve that he had no idea how much the kid had drunk. Beside the passenger door, Steve pulled to a sharp halt and spun Eric around to face him. "Eric, I need you to tell me what you were drinking tonight. I don't think you would be this drunk off of just beer. What all did you have?"
Eric's swimming eyes were unable to focus on Steve's face, and he apparently decided the ground was a much better option to look at. "Uh, started with some beer. Dude, I tried those Longboards Uncle D is always talkin' about, and I gotta say they taste a little funky the first time you drink them. Not like Bud Lite at all." At Steve's little shake to get him focused, Eric listed into the side of the truck and tried to remember the question. "Oh, and then I had some Cap'n 'n'some Jack. Had lotsa Cap'n'Jack."
" 'Cap'n'Jack'?" Eric's slurred response wasn't exactly well-enunciated.
"Yeah. Cap'n Morgan, Jack Daniels. I liked'ta switch back 'n' forth with each round."
"Eric, how long were you here drinking? How many drinks did you have? How much did you spend?" Steve tried not to fire off his questions too quickly, but he was having trouble holding back.
Eric just gave a little shrug, and scrunched his face up trying to figure out the right answers. "I lef' Uncle D's 'round 11:30, I think. Don' know how many I drank…they all kinda ran together." Eric gave a small giggle. "Dude, drinks are 'spensive here! I think I had more'n a hundred dollars, and then I didn' have enough to pay for a ride back to Uncle D's."
While Steve did know the expense of alcohol in the great state of Hawaii, $100 could still supply a lot of drinks for an under-aged kid. Experience and observation told Steve that he didn't currently have to rush to a hospital for alcohol poisoning. But without Eric having thrown up yet, there could still be a lot of alcohol that hadn't been absorbed yet.
Propping the teen up against the truck, Steve opened the door to reach for a kit in the back seat and pulled out the small 1-dose vial of ipecac. Preparing to support Eric from the side, the Commander easily overpowered the kid and forced the liquid into his mouth, clamping his jaw shut until he swallowed. The results came immediately, and Steve held the vomiting teen out of the mess as the remaining contents of Eric's stomach were expelled.
Once Eric was finished and trying weakly to stay on his feet, Steve hauled Eric up into the front passenger seat of his truck. He shut the door, then stalked around the truck to do a quick inspection of the Camaro. Nothing seemed damaged from the outside, and hopefully Eric hadn't really driven here after already having some drinks. Steve opened up the driver's side door, and that's when he spotted the pack of Longboards sitting in the footwell, with one bottle open and empty. Steve grabbed the beer to confront Eric with later, then made sure the Camaro was locked before joining Eric in the truck.
The drunk teen was attempting to fasten his seatbelt, but had somehow gotten it jammed in a length that was too short to reach the buckle. Steve swatted the kid's hands away, properly fastened him into the belt, and then ran a weary hand down his face as he turned over the ignition. It was going to be one hell of a long day.
~H50~
To be continued...
A/N: Just a reminder that this story is fiction, so if you are ever in a situation where you think someone is in danger of alcohol poisoning, please see a medical professional.
