I should be shot for foolishness. And then used as an example of what not to do.

Hello, I'm Sparra, and even though I have the flu and should really be resting, I stayed up ALL NIGHT to write fanfiction. And it's now time for me to go to work, and I haven't slept at all. And I am still sneezing so loudly they can hear me in Vancouver, still have sinuses so badly clogged that I can't breath through my nose, and my muscles ache so badly I want to ask everyone I see for the license number of the bus that ran me over. And now my head aches as well, and my eyes are very tired from staring at my laptop screen for- how many hours in a row is it now? Fourteen? Oh, sixteen and a half. No, no, that's not too long. I've got at least another half an hour in me before my optic nerves short out.

And now, I am going to post the next chapter of my story, without even so much as editing it myself, let alone having someone else beta it or waiting to hear back from the forums I posted on to try to check my dubious secondhand knowledge of important canonical facts. Why? Because I CAN, that's WHY! And I want to read more reviews from my awesome reviewers! And I want to hear you all scream in frustration when you get to the end of this chapter and realize that yes, I ended it there, because I am an evil genius! Hahahahahaha!

My voice! Is that MY voice!

And no, just because I just took 6 pills of 4 different kinds and am quoting obscure parts of children's movies in my author's note (which I am reading aloud in as dramatic tones as I can muster with my voice half gone), does not mean I am loopy on prescription drugs!

And now, without further ado, I give you (sweeping arm gesture) The REAL Chapter 2!

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FUBAR

Fucked up Beyond All Recognition

Ponytail, as Danny had dubbed the giant with the shaved head except for a two-foot ponytail, was approaching him with a leer of pleasure on his face. Great. Just great. Because apparently this guy likes his job just a little too much. The veins in the man's biceps and neck rippled beneath his skin as he flexed his muscles menacingly. He was in the process of cracking each knuckle individually when one of the three who questioned them earlier laid a hand on his arm and stopped him.

Purple-Splash, who Danny had named for the distinctively colored dye spot in his black hair, leaned down to glare at him. "How did you get here?"

"Well, assuming this is still the same warehouse cum garage cum booze joint we were in this morning, we drove." Danny smiled brightly as his adversary glared at him. "That was an easy one; can I have more questions like that?"

Signaling with a single finger, Purple-Splash sicced Ponytail on him; three punches to the gut later, Machigasura (who was literally the only one of the gang members in the room who'd come up on the gang's who's who list the day before, when Chin had compiled that terrifically-awful, oh-so-helpful list of known gang bigshots and properties they owned) came into Danny's line of sight and commanded the bouncer-wannabe to stop.

"This wimp's still asleep," announced another gang member from behind Danny's back.

"Then wake him!" Purple-Splash snapped. Machigasura nodded over Danny's head at whatever thug was behind him before turning his piercing gaze back to Danny, "And you, Detective, would be wise to stop playing the fool and start cooperating."

Danny was just about to retort when a five gallon pail of water got upended over his head (and Steve's as well, he was assuming). Spluttering, he glared at Machigasura and tried to channel one of his partner's bad-ass glares.

Steve, however, was taking uncooperativeness with their captors to the next level. He remained unconscious- or at least put up a good enough show of it- that another bucket of water was dumped over the two of them. This time, Danny caught a glimpse of the man doing it; the man rivaled Kamekona for size and weight, and had at least six women, in various states of undress, tattooed on his arms. His gray tank top had sweat stains on the chest, and Danny rather hoped that he was still seeing double when it came to the number of blood flecks there, too. Probably not, though. When Lady-Tats got sick of punching us before, he was the genius who sent Scrawny to get a crowbar.

Speak of the devil, here he comes again. Scrawny (Danny thought the guy's real name might have been Chang or Shang or something like that, but he really wasn't sure) seemed to be the enforcer with the most control. But the least status. Because why should gang members, half of whom probably do the drugs they run, care about controlling themselves when they're beating someone up?

Right now, from the sounds of it, he was lightly slapping Steve's face in an attempt to wake him.

Earlier, though, he hadn't held back...

{flashback}

"What is this place?" Danny whispered as he slipped through the door behind his partner. "The first room looked like a bar, the second one looked like a motorcycle shop, the third room had every conceivable part they could possibly need in their shop, and this room is just a warehouse full of crates. It's like they couldn't decide what purpose they wanted this building to serve, so they just made it a little bit of everything. Who does that? I mean, it's not like they're short on properties. There were what, forty-two? on that endless 'short-list of known gang properties' Chin compiled..."

"Shut up, Danny," Steve hissed. Even though they'd been inside this building for upwards of fifteen minutes now without encountering a soul, his gut was telling him things were about to go south any time now.

'Any time now' turned out to be approximately ten seconds after they'd moved on to the next room full of crates and boxes. A tattooed fist came flying out from behind one stack of crates, connected with Danny's skull, and sent him crashing into the corner of another wooden crate. He left a smear of blood on the crate, but managed to keep his feet under him and dive back towards his attacker with a roared, "Five-0! Put your hands up!"

Needless to say, his attacker didn't obey. He tried to punch the detective again, but failed to properly take Danny's scrappy nature into account; this was brought to his attention as the wind left his body in a rush when Danny slammed into him full force, using his now-bloody head like a battering ram.

Steve had turned as soon as he heard the noise, only to be knocked down by someone jumping on his back. He hit the floor heavily and dropped his gun when the small man on his back slammed his elbow into the floor. With a roar, he bucked the slight Asian off, and looked for his gun, but it couldn't see it anywhere. Steve got to his feet as quickly as possible, only to be met by a hard punch to the throat. Steve tried desperately to breathe through the pain as he landed a kick on the chest of his attacker, who had apparently expected him to go down from the throat punch.

Meanwhile, a third man came up behind Danny as he finished handcuffing the first attacker and got the cop in a headlock for a few seconds. Danny leaned forward and threw him off, but was momentarily distracted by his black leather jacket. Because really? Who wears a leather jacket in Hawaii in the summer? Is this guy trying to get heat stroke? The few seconds' lapse in concentration cost Danny as the attacker hurled a crate at his head. He ducked, but came up right into the man's fist. Two left hooks and a body slam later, Danny was slipping to the floor, unconscious.

Steve had just landed a kick to Scrawny's side when Danny's attacker swung at him. He bobbed his head to the side, the fist scraping his ear as it went past. He grabbed the man's shoulders and drew them down as he thrust his knee into the man's gut. The pain of a fist smashing into his back made him whip around again to face his original attacker. He threw a right cross but was blocked. There's no way I'm going to be able to keep doing this. I've got to get my back to something so that I can face them both at once, Steve thought frantically as he traded blows with first one man, then the other. He rolled a charging Scrawny over his shoulder as Leather Jacket tried to grab him, then kicked Leather Jacket in the shins and pivoted out of the way of a jump-kicking Scrawny. Steve landed a punch on Scrawny's left kidney but was then put in a headlock by Leather Jacket. So the SEAL elbowed Leather Jacket in the gut as Scrawny landed a body blow on him and then kicked the other man savagely in the leg. Then he turned and landed three blows in quick succession on Leather Jacket's right side, left side, and chin.

His single-minded focus on the man cost him as Scrawny kicked his leg out from under him, making Steve fell to one knee. Deciding to fight dirty, he took advantage of his position to hit Leather Jacket as hard as possible in the groin. As the big man bent over, clutching himself in agony, Steve surged upwards, landing a ferocious uppercut to the man's jaw, knocking Leather Jacket backwards. Cracking his head on the concrete floor finished putting the muscle-man out. Unfortunately for Steve, the Asian using Kenpo took the opportunity to kick Steve in the head. Although Steve went down with the blow, he managed to use a leg to sweep Scrawny's legs out from under him as well.

It wasn't long before both of them were back on their feet, hitting, kicking, and blocking one another in a vicious flurry of blows. Steve threw a punch; the other man ducked it and tried to kick him in the knee at the same time. Steve dodged the kick and swung around for another punch. He managed a glancing blow, but got a fist in his own side, too. Grunting, Steve grabbed the other man's arm and swung him into the nearest stack of crates as hard as he could.

He never fully saw the crate that was shattered over his head from behind as a fourth gang member joined the donnybrook.

{end flashback}

"Ah, Commander, how nice of you to join us." Machigasura's oily voice now came from where he'd positioned himself behind Danny's left shoulder. "So tell me, are you ready to cooperate now?"

"Go to hell," Steve growled, his defiant tone cheering Danny immensely. "My team knows that I would never negotiate with terrorists and criminals."

"Now, now, Commander, we both know that's not true."

"How's that?" Danny asked incredulously. "You think you've actually got a chance to get something out of holding us hostage?"

"Don't you know, Detective? The two of you are very precious commodities. We intend to use you as hostages. After all, if Victor Hesse can get ten million dollars for Detective Kelly, Five-0's black sheep, shouldn't the two of you be worth at least twenty million? And the release of our leader, of course."

"In that case, don't you think you should stop beating us? Because dead hostages aren't worth shit," Steve spat.

"Oh, but we're not planning on killing you. We're just blowing off steam, since you and your team managed to screw up our original plan to get Naone back."

"Yeah, well, you keep blowing off steam like this, and you're liable to kill us accidently. Internal bleeding, ruptured spleens, breaking our necks, those kind of things."

Steve had his own retort on the tip of his tongue, but decided it was unnecessary after Danny's statement. Especially when his partner continued the rant after a few seconds' pause. Besides, talking was currently difficult, as it required breathing. It was a toss-up between his throat and his chest, which hurt worse; but they were both making it painfully challenging to breathe

"Besides, what happened with Hesse was different. We agreed to pay the ransom, yes. But that was just to get him into the open so that we could take him down." Steve wheezed loudly as he managed to take a gulp of air, but Danny continued anyway, trying not to let his mounting concern for his partner show on his face. "And Hesse never got to spend the money. Because he's rotting away in a Halawa jail cell. Is that what you want?"

Michigasura glared at Danny for a second before glancing upwards at Lady-Tats. Apparently he gave a nonverbal cue to start the beating again, because Steve heard the thump of fist hitting flesh, followed closely by a grunt from his partner. More blows followed in quick succession.

Danny had never before considered the possibility that he might someday be glad to be tied up. For any reason. But when Lady-Tats wound up and put all of his 250+ pounds behind a kick to the leg, only to smash his foot ran into rope rather than Danny's ACL, the detective was silently thanking his lucky stars that the bad guys had decided to tie his legs to the chair. Sure, it still hurts, but the rope absorbed a lot of the impact and spread out the rest. Being tied up probably just saved my ACL.

And ain't that just a kick in the head? Even the things I'm counting as lucky breaks now would be horrible under any other circumstances.

The beating continued for several minutes before Steve said something (fairly quietly, considering the way he normally yelled at any bad guy in the vicinity) and the man in charge signaled a temporary stop to hear him better.

"This won't do you any good."

"I disagree, Commander."

"We won't give in and be used like this. And knowing my teammates, unless they hear one of us on the phone, they'll never believe you have us. In which case you'll get no money."

"Then we will have our retribution for you screwing over our plans. And we will find a way to break Naone out of jail just to spite you."

"Then why hold on to us?" Danny piped in. "If you really understand that this plan is not going to work, why bother with the whole hostage and torture crap? Not that I'm anxious to die or anything, but wouldn't have been easier just to kill us?"

"First of all, Detective, I don't know this plan won't work; I simply have a backup in place in case it doesn't. And secondly, we deserve this."

"You deserve this? What the hell? You can not seriously believe you deserve the chance to beat two good men to a pulp just for the fun of it!"

Mighigasura leaned down and stared daggers into Danny's eyes as his oily voice dripped poisonously in his ear. "Not for the fun of it. For revenge. You screwed up our plans, so we have to the right to screw up yours."

"And if you accidently go too far in your revenge and kill us?" Danny asked, hoping the gangster would see reason and call a halt to the Neanderthal beatings.

"Well, then we'll just have to settle for a half a million each for the two of you. Your deaths and a million dollars will go a long way towards making us feel better about this operation's failure... And it's always nice to have the good will of the Yakuza."

Half a million each? For us to be dead? Danny was shocked speechless.

The good will of the Yakuza. Steve mulled over the words in his mind. His eyes narrowed. Wo-Fat. The scowl on his face deepened into a look of murderous rage. His face was so intimidating that even Lady-Tats stepped back.

"Unless, of course, you're willing to see reason and cooperate with us."

"Like hell we will." "In your dreams, asshole." The partners answered in unison.

Lady-Tats hit Danny in the face hard enough that he ran his tongue over his teeth to check if any were now loose. Behind him, he heard a loud whuff of air as Scrawny forcefully planted his palm on Steve's chest.

"Let me know when you're ready to see reason." All three Michigasuras turned and walked out of Danny's line of sight as the beating resumed.

Just a few minutes later, Scrawny hit Steve hard enough in the face that his head flew backwards and cracked into the back of Danny's. When his eyes rolled upwards, Scrawny swore under his breath and Purple-Splash started to berate him. Lady-Tats apparently decided to join in the discussion, because he stopped beating Danny and moved to where the others were standing a little off to the side.

Danny was immensely grateful for the brief respite, which allowed him to swallow, tamp down his nausea, and try to hold back the gray creeping in around the corners of his vision as the gang members considered their options, until he felt the chair behind him start to shake. Craning his neck as much as possible, he was horrified to discover that Steve appeared to be convulsing. His muscles tightened and loosened in the dreadfully familiar rhythm of a tonic-clonic seizure.

"Help! Help him!" Danny said, frantic.

The three gangbangers looked at him, and then returned to their tête-à-tête. Scrawny ran out of the room after a minute, presumably to inform Michigasura of the newest development.

Then Purple-Splash stepped over to Danny's side.

"Perhaps now you'll be willing to cooperate."

Danny was torn. Steve wouldn't want me to do it, would probably kill me himself if I give in and he survives. But seizures... seizures are very, very bad. I don't think I could live with myself if I just let him die.

Danny opened his mouth to say he'd make the call to their teammates- Chin would probably be able to use it to triangulate our position, anyways. And why the hell didn't I think of that sooner? Why didn't Steve? We wouldn't just be going along with the bad guys and buying a bit of pain free time, we might even help Chin and Kono find us! Oh, wait. Steve said if we give them what they want, they'll kill us. So we can't give in. But Steve needs help now... I'll have to do it- when the seizure stopped. Danny shut his mouth.

Purple-Splash tried to murder him with a look. When that failed, he glanced at his partner in crime, and a fist came thundering in to snap Danny's head around. Feeling the skin split on his cheek as it began to bleed, Danny tried to get his eyes to focus again so that he could hopefully avoid the next blow.

It hit him in the gut before he could ascertain which of the three Lady-Tats in front of him was real. A few more punches to his already tortured abdomen had him pulling his shoulders forward as far as his handcuffs would allow in a futile attempt to curl his body inwards. The movement only served to make his shoulders and wrists hurt almost as badly.

Scratch that, Danny thought as a fist thundered into his left shoulder hard enough to snap his neck back like whiplash. Now my shoulder hurts just as bad, maybe even worse than my belly.

A left cross split his cheek for a second time and Danny's vision began to gray along the edges. The last thing Danny felt before he slipped into unconsciousness was the worrying, terrifying shaking of the chair behind him as Steve began to convulse again.

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Ah, hahahahaha! I told you I'm an evil genius! And I'll fix any mistakes later. Don't be afraid to mention them in your reviews. Or you can PM me.

COMING SOON TO A FANFIC NEAR YOU:

Chapter 3: TARFUN

featuring whiny Steve, bossy Danny,

and possibly even a few more familiar faces...

As always, I love, love, LOVE reviews.

They inspire me.