Chapter 2:

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much."
― Oscar Wilde

After Danny had settled back to sleep after mightily complaining about a headache, Steve took the short drive to the coroner's office to clear his head. If he never saw Danny in a hospital bed again, it would be too soon. Max had sent over some preliminary information about the vic both to his phone and to Kono and Chin at HQ. Kono and Chin were pouring through the recordings from area street cameras to see if they could pinpoint the time and circumstances of the body and car being set up to look like an accident. The car's plates showed it to be stolen about 2 months ago. Uniforms were sent to the car owner's address to follow up. Max was still unable to identify the remains based on normal identification methods, but he was running DNA through the CODEX database. CSI was processing the scene and had made arrangements to bring the car back to their lab for deeper analysis. Steve asked them to also check for drug traces. Although there had been no indication that this was the result of drug activity, he just wanted to make sure that they weren't missing anything.

The CSI techs at the scene had also confirmed that no additional guns were found in the car or anywhere at the scene. Steve didn't doubt that Danny had found a gun, but the fact that it had disappeared from a locked-down crime scene was very disturbing. He fought the desire to return to the crime scene and take a closer look around himself, but he didn't want to be gone from the hospital too long.

He pushed open the doors to the coroner's office and instinctively took shallower breaths, not wanting to inhale the scents of death too deeply. His eyes landed on Max who was in the process of sewing back up the Y-incision on the victim.

"Max, any news?"

"Why, Commander, I didn't expect to see you until at least another hour or so. How is Detective Williams? I expect that the diagnosis of concussion did little to quell his desire to talk." Max was still completing a set of complex knots as he started to look up at Steve.

"No, not really. He's resting comfortably, well, as comfortable as they could make him." Steve looked down at the ashen body on the table, partially covered with a white sheet. "Anything you can tell me about our victim?"

"Well, he's Caucasian, approximately 25-35 years old. 90 kilograms. Damage to his face and fingers have made physical identification very problematic. I have sent a DNA sample for a database search. As I stated in the field, his body temperature and lividity suggested that he had expired at least 5 hours before we had arrived on scene. Based on liver temperature, I can say that it points to approximate TOD at one o'clock this morning. Trace analysis of his clothing shows soil particulates and gunpowder residue on the skin of his lower right forearm and sleeve, indicating that he fired a gun recently. The soil sample is in the Mass-Spec as we speak. More on that within the hour. His shoe treads showed a similar type of soil and we are running samples on that as well. Curiously, there does not seem to be any other contaminants on the body other than his own blood. Type A+, so not too exotic there either. Let me finish up here and I'll get my report to you by this afternoon. Please send my well-wishes to the Detective when you see him." Max looked back down and resumed his sewing. Steve got the impression that he had just been dismissed.

Steve nodded and he made his way back out into the corridor before drawing in a deep breath. He pulled out his phone called in to HQ for an update.

Danny started to come to after what seemed like two days of sleep and the first thing he felt was nauseous. He shot up in the bed, eyes searching for anything to help. Hands stuck a basin under his chin as he was forced to relieve his stomach of its contents. Vertigo kept him clinging to the rail of the bed with his other hand. He closed his eyes in an effort to stop the spinning.

"Deep breaths, it'll help clear your head." Someone shoved an oxygen mask over his face and he tried desperately to calm the heaving. He opened his eyes slowly to the form of a large man wearing blue scrubs. "Hey, my name's Bob. I'm your nurse today. Here," he helped ease the detective back to a prone position, "let me help you." Danny blinked tears of panic out of eyes and looked at Bob.

"Thanks." He squeaked through the oxygen mask.

"No problem. Concussions will do that to you. It'll get better. I'll be back to check on you in a bit. Just push the call button if you need anything else." The nurse made some notes on the whiteboard in the room and strode out.

Danny just nodded lamely and tried to melt into the pillows. His mind travelled back to the gun that he had pulled out of the door of the car. It was well balanced for a small gun. It had fit well into his hand although he thought that perhaps it had been made for a woman as it had an almost elegant appearance. The handle had white inlay, which he supposed could have been bone or ivory. It had some carving, but he didn't have time to study it in detail. He couldn't remember much after that- little bits and pieces until he had woken up in the ambulance with a massive headache and horrible nausea. He tried his best to keep calm and he would smile when Rachel brought Grace around to see him. He hated the idea that she would see him again in a hospital bed, especially with a bandage around his head. At least they didn't have to shave his head… His hands flew up to the side of his head and felt around gingerly. Everything seemed to be there. He didn't want go all Rambo like Steve and practically shave his head. Hell, Grace wouldn't even recognize him without his hair.

"All there, cuz?" Chin asked as Danny blew out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His colleague and close friend walked in the room with a paper bag and a cup of coffee.

"Does it look all there?" Danny asked with a little more concern than he meant to convey. "Hey, are those malasadas in there by any chance?" One whiff of the pastries and the nausea had fled.

"There could be. Are you supposed to be eating outside food?" A smile crept over the Hawaiian's face.

"I'm sure it's fine. Now hand it over." The bag had almost made the connection with Danny's hand when Steve intercepted it.

"Let's check with the doc first, huh?" Steve said while taking a look in the bag. "From Koko's?" Chin nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't be eating outside food until the doc clears you. I'll have to check on the quality for you anyway." Steve helped himself.

"Hey!" Danny started to protest.

"Hey, what, Danno?" Grace sprinted in as Rachel nodded at Danny from the doorway.

"Monkey!" Grace leapt onto the bed and hugged her father. It was Grand Central in his hospital room all of a sudden.

About an hour later, Danny's energy was flagging and Rachel wanted to take Grace home. After his daughter hugged and kissed him for about five minutes, Rachel dragged Grace out of the room with the promise of coming back tomorrow. Chin had already left about 15 minutes prior and so Steve was finally alone and bursting to discuss what had happened with Danny.

"All right, I can see that you really want to talk, and so, instead of a nap, we will talk, because I know how rare this situation is." And in an even more rare event, Danny stopped talking and waited.