So, I've finally brought this one to an end. I'm sorry these past couple of days have been flaky, I still have a poorly baby and by the time I've had time to write, I've been pretty exhausted! So sorry if this chapter isn't everything you hoped it to be!
Thanks for all of the reviews, they've really pushed me on to finish this one, guys. Especially after somehow losing the original :(
Anyway..happy reading!
H50
Five-0
Steve wasn't naïve enough to believe life was like the movies. He knew the odds of finding a kidnap victim if no ransom demands were made, the chances of finding a missing person alive and well after 48 hours, the long drawn out process of investigations. Just because they had found the SUV didn't mean that they'd find Danny safe and sound, if they'd find Danny at all.
As he sped along the highway, he'd run possible scenario's through his mind; Danny passed out behind the wheel, or lying on the backseat asleep, or slumped over in the front, pale and cold, dead from multiple seizures, or maybe he'd just be sitting there, smiling, waiting for Steve to find him like this was some sort of sick test.
"Steve, there's the car." Chin had pulled him from his thoughts, pointing to the SUV parked on the side of the road.
"I've got it." Steve nodded, bringing his truck to a halt a few meter's back, killing the flashing blue lights.
"How do you want to do this?" Chin asked, whilst checking his gun, making sure the safety was still on.
"We pretend it's not Danny." Steve commanded. "Proceed as normal."
Chin nodded as he pushed open the door and got out of the truck, Steve doing the same. They both edged towards the car, slowly, one hand resting on the pistol's at their hips. Steve signaled for Chin to take the right whilst he moved off to the left, both keeping pace with each other as they flanked the vehicle.
Steve peered in through the rear window, briefly hoping to find Danny asleep, a little disappointed when he didn't; it was clear. Breathing steady, he approached the driver's side door. Pressed up against the warm metal, he reached forward to interlock his fingers with the handle, counted to three in his head, and then pulled. The door flew open easily, and Steve stepped around, hand ready to draw the gun should he need to. His heart deflated at the sight of an empty car. Chin's face held the same emotion as he looked at his boss from the passenger side.
"He's not here." Steve fumed, stepping back and allowing the adrenaline to drain from his system, slowing his heart rate back down. He kicked the wheel of the car, ran his hands through his hair.
"Keys are still in the ignition." Chin pointed out, and McGarrett took a deep breath to regain composure before pulling on a pair of latex gloves he'd kept in his pocket. He reached in around the steering wheel and pulled them from the slot.
"Why would he leave these?" As he twirled them on his finger. "He had to be pretty certain nobody would steal the car, right?"
"Maybe it ran out of gas?"
"You know, the boy at Al's had told Catherine it had less than a quarter of a tank when Danny had taken it. Maybe he'd run it dry."
"It would make sense. And if that's the case, he's on foot."
"He couldn't have gotten far." Steve stepped back again, looked up and down the almost straight road, at the rainforest covered mountain on one side of it, and then turned around to look at the meager trick of a beach behind him. "He was headed in this direction, and it wouldn't have made sense to back track, and he certainly wouldn't have opted to go on a hike, so he's either continued up the road, or gone down to the waters edge." Steve concluded.
"I'll take the road, you take the beach. We might be able to find something that can give us a clue to where he's going." Chin suggested, and Steve nodded, closing the SUV's door.
Steve slid down the embankment, whilst Chin had kept to the road. Adjacent with each other, both men scoured the ground beneath them, neither confirming or denying the fear they held inside. Gradually, both of the cars behind them disappeared from sight, and the slow jog they'd started with had turned to a fast walk, both feeling exhausted from the lack of sleep. Steve knew that he could push on, ignore the tired pull from each muscle, but he'd slowed his pace, remembering Chin hadn't had the training he'd had with the SEAL's. Shells and broken glass, food wrappers and seaweed littered the sand, the waves were fringing closer and closer, but before Steve could call off the search on foot, something glinted in the early Hawaiian sun, catching his eye.
"I think I've got something." He called up to Chin, who'd matched pace when Steve ran to the object. Chin jumped over the barrier, slid down the embankment and joined Steve in staring the the empty Jack Daniel bottle.
"It's recent." Steve noted, as he picked it up in a gloved hand. "There's still a drop of liquor in the bottom. If it had been washed up, the water would have at least diluted it, if not cleaned the bottle out."
"Steve, that's the second bottle we've found." Chin's voice sounded tight, worry evident. "One bottle would be worrisome enough, but two? That's scary."
"With this much alcohol in his system, I'm surprised he's still able to move." Steve nodded in agreement, before pulling his phone from his pocket with his other hand. Dialing in his office number, relief hit him like a wave when Catherine answered.
"Steve, where are you?" She'd started, but he cut her off.
"Cath, listen to me, I think we're closing in on Danny. I need you to pull up my location, tell me what's nearby." He'd ordered, and she hadn't tried to argue.
"Okay." She'd said after a few seconds silence. "I'm pulling your cell's GPS now." And then after another brief pause, "Okay we've got a university three miles west of your location, and a small motel two miles to the east. The motel closed down a year ago, but was recently reopened by new owners."
"Okay, I want you to call for a medic, have them on standby." Steve ordered before hanging up on her. "Motel, 2 miles this way." He directed to Chin, before both men picked up their pace, and ran flat out as fast as they could in the direction of the motel.
After what seemed like a lifetime, they found the motel Catherine had told them about. They slowed to a hurried walk, Chin panting forcefully against the exhaustion setting in.
"Blood." Steve pointed several smudges to him, staining the concrete path. "Let's go." They'd hurried to the front desk, both men slapping their badges and a picture of Danny down in front of the middle aged woman.
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" She asked, before picking up the photo.
"Have you seen this man?" The hope and desperation evident in Steve's voice and Chin's eyes.
"No, I'm sorry." She shook her head.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive. But Anastasia was working this weekend, said we'd had a newcomer who looked pretty beat. She'd given him a room so he could rest up. Paid in cash, no questions asked."
"Was it him?" Steve pointed to the photo. "Is he okay?"
"I'm sorry I just don't know. I'm sorry I can't be of more help."
"What room is he in?" Steve demanded.
"I can't just..."
"Look, we need that room number. He's a cop and he's missing."
"Room 11." She'd pointed back towards the row's of red doors almost immediately.
"Thanks." Chin smiled, and chased after Steve who'd started for the room. "Hey, Steve, slow down." Chin said, catching up to him. "We need to be careful on this. We don't know what to expect when he answers the door."
"Call Catherine." Steve replied, pulling the gun from his holster. "She needs to send an ambulance."
They advanced towards the room, ignoring the trail of brown smudges they both knew to be blood, and stopped short of the window. Steve raised a hand to silence Chin on the phone, before peeking around the frame and trying to see through the blinds.
"It's him." He breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing the profile perched on the end of one of the beds. And then, before he could really relish in the joy of successfully tracking down his missing best friend, his breathing stopped, and he could hear his heart beat in his ears as he tried to make out what Danny was fiddling with in his hands. A gun.
"Shit!" He exclaimed, before hurrying to stand in front of the door, raising one knee to his chest, and kicking with as much strength as he could muster, landing his foot an inch away from the door handle.
BANG, the door flew open and Danny fell back onto the bed.
.
The second the door flew open, breaking off of one of the hinges, Steve was aware of three things. The first was the overwhelming stench of vomit, alcohol and something metallic. The second was the colour red; on the floor, on the bed, in the bathroom, and covering the oh so still body. The third was that Danny, broken and bloody, wasn't moving. It took less then a second for Steve to process the information, and then he was hurrying over to the Detective, reaching his side in 4 long strides.
"Danny?" He called out, grabbing his face in his hands. "Danny, c'mon buddy, wake up." He tried to coax him to consciousness as Chin spoke calmly into the cell he held to his ear. Danny's face was cold, his lips were taking on a bluish tint, his skin was a deathly shade of white. And there was red, so much red. "Danny?" He resumed, his fingers searching for a pulse in his neck. "Wake up." He begged, as he pressed harder on the jugular. He held his breath as he searched, through the tips of his fingers, for the proof he wasn't too late. Let out a really long sigh when he felt a very faint, barely there, thump, thump-thump, thump, and then another as he felt a slow, wisp of air against his cheek as he checked for breathing. Steve moved quickly, scanned his friends body, eyes landing on the gun in one hand, and then the pills next to him, resting against his thigh. He snatched up the gun, put the safety back on, tossed it onto the spare bed and then grabbed for the orange pot. He swallowed hard against the bile when he registered that at least half of them were gone. Red...why was everything red? He lifted Danny's hand, gasped to feel it was ice cold.
"Chin, pass me that quilt." He pointed to the one on the spare bed. "He's freezing." Then turned back to Danny. "Danno, can you hear me? C'mon, wake up." But, no matter how hard he tried to coax him back, Danny didn't even stir.
The ambulance arrived after a couple of minutes, and too afraid to let him go, Chin had to pull Steve off of his friend.
"Come on Steve, step back." He said, as medics rushed in. He'd watched one of them insert a catheter into the back of the hand and push fluids whilst the other did a quick pat down of Danny's body.
"We have a deep laceration, with possible debris, to the right wrist, superficial lesions to the left knee and arm. Pupils are pinpoint and non-reactive, and he's borderline hypothermic."
"Hypothermic? This is Hawaii!" Steve had interrupted.
"Sir, can you please calm down." The medic pushing fluids spoke. "He's presenting with typical alcohol poisoning. Do you know how much he's had to drink?"
"No, not exactly. At least 2 bottles of whiskey, maybe more. And he's on morphine." Steve didn't appreciate nor like the sudden look of worry that flicked across the paramedics face, before turning to his partner.
"We need to get him to the hospital now." The other medic nodded, grabbed for the stretcher. Less than two minutes later, Danny had been loaded, still unconscious, into the ambulance.
"You go with him." Chin said to Steve, a reassuring pat to the back. "I'll get Catherine to pick me up, then I'll get the truck and we'll meet you at the hospital." Steve nodded in response, climbed aboard, took the seat opposite the stretcher, and held onto Danny's had tightly. Only let go when Danny started to convulse, and then he turned to shouting at the driver to 'hurry the hell up!'
Steve paced the floor of the waiting room, Danny's blood covering his hands and smudged onto his blue shirt; red. The nurse had often suggested he go and wash up, but he refused every time, not wanting to rick missing the doctor's updates. He kept his eye on the door of the room that held Danny, four nurses and two doctors, waiting for it to open. Chin and Catherine had arrived an hour after he'd escorted Danny from the ambulance and straight into the ER, but even they could offer little comfort. Haunting him like a bad dream, flashbacks of the motel room and Danny convulsing on the way to hospital didn't let Steve forget that even he wasn't a superhero with super powers. For the third time in as many minutes, he checked his watch, then looked at the other two Five-0 members waiting with him. Chin had taken to a bench of seats to stretch out on, and even though his eyes were closed, Steve suspected that he wasn't sleeping.
"You need to sit and rest." Catherine said, pulling Steve from his thoughts, whilst sliding her arms up around his neck.
"I'm fine." Steve had smiled down at her, taking solace in her presence. "Thank you for being here." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into an embrace.
"You're welcome." She whispered into his neck, and only pulled away when a doctor stepped into the room.
"Are you the family of Detective Williams?" The female doctor asked, and almost immediately, Steve had said yes and Chin had bolted upright to face her. "Please, take a seat." She indicated, and Catherine and Steve joined Chin as the doctor took one opposite the three concerned friends.
"How is he? Is he going to be okay?" Steve asked, and when Catherine took his hand in both of hers, he gave them a nervous squeeze.
"We're moving Detective Williams to the Intensive Care Unit, where he will have to stay for the foreseeable future. His blood alcohol levels are dangerously high, and his blood test revealed an overdose of morphine. We've had to put a tube down his throat to help him breathe, and we're using a catheter in each hand to administer fluids to restore hydration and blood sugar levels, and a drug called Naloxone to help reverse the damage done by the overdose. We've also had to pump his stomach in order to try and remove any more alcohol sitting in his system, but any that has passed into the digestive tract is beyond our control, so we've sedated him to prevent him waking up whilst there's still a possibility of it affecting him." The doctor explained.
"So he'll be okay?" Steve asked for clarification.
"He's in a critical condition. A lot rests on how well he reacts to treatment, how much damage he's done to his liver. I'm afraid right now it's a waiting game. But I have to warn you, alcohol poisoning alone is a very serious illness, so that paired along with the overdose means it's extremely lucky Detective Williams is still alive."
"Can we go and see him?" Steve choked out.
"We can only allow one visitor at a time."
All three looked at each other, the decision made silently between them.
"Steve, you go." Catherine smiled softly, squeezing his hand again. "I can go and see Rachel and let her know that Danny wont be having Grace for a while."
"And I can go home and sleep." Chin chuckled lightly. "As long as you promise to call and update me."
"Of course." Steve nodded, before standing up and facing the doctor. "Let's go."
The doctor bid goodbye to the other two adults, before leading Steve to Danny's room.
Steve had landed up in the hospital more times than he could count on one hand, but never had he been so afraid. Danny had never looked so weak, so lifeless, and the machine forcing him to breathe was a constant reminder that he had allowed this to happen to his partner. With every whoosh, every rise and fall of the chest, Steve sent a silent prayer, begging whoever the Hell was upstairs to give Danny the strength to push through this.
He'd lost a lot of blood from the deep gash in his wrist, but after a few stitches they'd stopped the bleeding. He'd needed it bandaged, along with the scrape on his bicep, and both of his feet.
"What's going on in that noggin of yours?" He'd whispered several times, never getting an answer.
It took four days before they could take the ventilator away, another three before Danny woke. Steve had been there the second his eyes began to flutter.
"Danny?" He's coaxed. "Open your eyes, buddy. Let's see those baby blues." Danny's eyes had opened slowly, but they'd focused on Steve pretty quickly.
"Steve?" He's asked, then looked around him. "What...how...shouldn't be here."
"Hey, it's okay, Danno. You just had a bit too much to drink, you're going to be fine." Steve had meant to reassure, but there was no mistaking the fiery anger in Danny's eyes.
"No! Don't want to be fine! No! No! No!" He'd shouted, the heart monitor that had been put on silent suddenly came to life as his heart rate picked up quickly.
"Danny?" Steve was shocked, secretly hoping that he would wake and be perfectly okay again.
"This is your fault!" Danny continued to shout, the venom in his voice puncturing holes in Steve's chest. "Don't want to be here. No! No!" He pulled at the nasal cannula under his nose, and then proceeded to rip the IV lines from his hands.
"Woah, Danny, calm down!" Steve had almost begged, rushed forward to pin him by his shoulders as he tried to get up and out of bed.
"I hate you!" Danny shouted in his face. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
With that, the doctors had rushed in with a sedative and pushed Steve out of the room. He waited outside, listening to Danny's crazed shouting, until it faltered and slowly died down into nothingness.
When the doctors emerged, both looking a little frazzled, Steve pulled one to the side.
"What the hell was that?" He demanded to know. The doctor looked at Steve, a sympathetic look on his face.
"We suspect that Detective Williams is suffering from drug induced depression. Please, don't take anything he says to heart. We're trying to counteract the effects of the alcohol and morphine, but it can take some time. He just needs a friend right now."
"Thanks." Steve said, deflated. But, ignoring his wounded ego, he stepped back into the hospital room, sat back down at Danny's bedside, and took his hand back into his.
It had been another two days before the doctors had allowed the sedation to be eased off. They'd warned McGarrett that it still might not have been enough time, that Danny still might not be himself, but Steve had decided it was worth it.
"Danny?" Steve asked tenderly when his eyes had fluttered open. A minute passed in silence, before Danny looked at him. "How are you feeling?"
"You know what? You are insubordinate!" He hissed, his face twisting into anger.
"Insubordinate?" Steve repeated, taken aback, hoping it's the start of one of Danny's typical rants.
"Yes. A completely out of control, barbaric beast, with little to no conscience!" Danny fumed, his eyes narrowed. Not typical, Steve decided.
"Danny, please, I don't understand..."
"I mean, who actually carries tear gas around with them, anyway?" And then Steve clicked, realised that Danny was stuck back on the day Steve had saved his life.
"You had a gun pointed at your face." Steve explained, his voice low in an effort to pacify the patient.
"And you think I couldn't handle it?!" The heart monitor started to sound the alarm, and Steve didn't miss the irate cop's hands balling into fists so tight, the knuckles turned white.
"I wasn't willing to risk it." Steve said matter of factly.
"You weren't willing to risk trusting me?!" Danny howled, and a crowd of doctors and nurses rushed into the private room.
"It wasn't about trust." Steve shook his head, stepped back as the doctor pulled a syringe out, no doubt full of sedative.
"It's always about trust, Steven!" Danny had retorted, before the nurse in charge ushered Steve from the room.
Another three days passed, and Steve was starting to worry that the doctors had gotten it wrong; that no matter how long they left it, how long the drug took to come out of his system, Danny would never be Danno again. He'd asked for a second opinion, and then a third, but they'd all insisted the same; it was a drug induced depression, and as the drug and alcohol slowly filtered out, he'd start to return to normal. The following day, Danny woke from his slumber, and it took a long time for him to take his eyes from the ceiling to meet Steve's tired ones. Several emotions flitted across his face, and then, silently, he rolled over so his back was facing McGarrett and curled into a foetal position. Loud, heartbreaking sobs filled the room, rocking Danny's body with the force of each wail and without saying a word, Steve climbed onto the bed behind him and held his best friend until the bawling turned to weeping, and the weeping turned to silent tears.
"I've got you, Danno." Whispered into his hair.
On the eighteenth day, Steve had been sleeping when Danny had woke. He wasn't sure how long he'd been watching him, but when he finally stirred from his sleep, his eyes fixed on those familiar grey ones.
"Hey Danno, how you feeling?" He asked, his voice hoarse.
"Like I don't want to kill you any more." Danny half smiled. "But, it's not all rainbows." His smile fell, eyes looked away. Steve pulled himself up from the chair and resumed his position next to Danny's bed.
"The doctor said you'd start to feel a bit better now. You went bat shit crazy there for a few days." Steve lightly joked.
"I remember...the voice...in my head..." Danny pushed through the haze, but the memories mostly stayed lost.
"Yeah, it was something to do with the morphine and the whiskey. You've done a bit of damage to your liver, but they hope it will repair itself."
"So I'm not crazy?" Danny's voice filled with hope, and Steve's heart broke a little at the innocence behind the question.
"All nine kinds." Steve nodded. "But you're going to be okay." Danny stifled a yawn.
"How long have I been...out?"
"It's been over two weeks since you came to mine for beers, Danno."
"Grace?"
"Knows her Daddy's been sick, but is on the mend. I'll bring her to see you tomorrow."
"I'm so tired." This time, giving in to the yawn.
"Get some sleep. I'll still be here when you wake. I promise." Steve reached for one of the hands that had been still for far too long, and gave a gentle squeeze.
"Yeah...sleep..." Danny nodded, his eyes already closed. "You should too...look rough." Steve settled back into his chair, ready to close his too. "And Steve?"
"Yeah, Danno?"
"I got you too, babe." Danny smiled, and Steve let out a long awaited sigh of relief; Danny was back.
Pau. :)