Okay, first off thanks for the reviews, alerts, and just plain reading. It's awesome that you guys continue to support this story and I really hope you enjoy this chapter.
Second, I'm not sure how many more Steve flashbacks there are, but I do know Danny's are going to take up much of his POV throughout the next few chapters. (And, this is me being honest here, I have been looking forward to these flashbacks -Lot's of angst :D)
And third, I own nothing (X2). I forgot to mention it last chapter. Sorry.
Anyhoo, I've gotta go. Drop me a review if you can, thanks again for reading, and catch ya in chapter fourteen.
See ya...
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Steve…
1993…
I had been studying for finals, the slight buzz of rapidly approaching graduation rolling through my veins, when I got the call. I couldn't really understand what his friend Josh was saying, but what I made out had me rushing out the door.
I drove to the hospital, but had gotten there a few minutes too late. Uncle Marty had died on the operating table. Later I found out he had been trying to stop a woman from getting mugged, he took two to the chest…
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Present Day…
Blood stained my hands, the front of my shirt, my kakis… it was everywhere. I always wondered how somebody could lose so much blood so fast. I looked up from the scarlet splattered across me, my eyes settling on the double doors Danny had disappeared behind a few hours ago. I couldn't help wondering, for not the first time, if he was going to be okay.
Twice, he had been shot twice. Once to the clavicle, once to the chest; I knew for a fact the bullet didn't pierce his heart, his pulse had beat weakly against my fingertips. There was still hope he was alive, still hope they could save him.
I glanced over at Kono and Grace, the former's head against the wall, the latter leaning against her, both asleep. Kamekona had wandered down to the cafeteria some fifteen minutes ago. Chin was sitting kitty-corner from me, knee bouncing up and down, unmoving eyes glancing down at an outdated US Weekly. Last time we had to wait had been when Kono had been knocked out during a raid, three cases ago. I could still hear Danny's rant about the magazine choices: 'US Weekly should be deemed the gossips guide to useless crap. I mean, what you learn gets denied immediately by the celebrities or their reps. And even if what they print is true, what sort of civilized individual wants to listen to what Brad and Angelina's children had for breakfast in the south of France? Not me.'
I glanced up, noticing Doctor Wesley walking toward us and I stood up. His face was unreadable, my eyebrows furrowing. I heard Chin talking quietly to Kono, waking her up. They joined me a second later, Wesley in hearing distance.
"How's Danny?" we all asked together.
"It was touch and go for a while. But the good news is he made it through surgery."
"Wait, what do you mean 'touch and go'?" I stated slowly.
"Good news? What's the bad news?" Kono demanded.
"What's his condition?" Chin questioned quietly.
Wesley took a breath and said, "The bullet that entered his clavicle will take some time to heal, but shouldn't have any lasting damage. It's the chest wound that has me worried." Yeah, it worried us, too. "It was six inches shy of his heart, and had to be removed carefully. Twice," he hesitated a fraction of a second, "his heart stopped." I heard Kono quietly gasp behind me. "But as I said, he made it through surgery."
"What's his condition?" I repeated Chin's question.
"As of now: serious, but stable. We will be monitoring him over the next twenty-four hours. If all goes good, there is a possibility he'll make a full recovery."
"What…" I cleared my throat. "What does 'possibility' mean?"
"He's unconscious right now. We won't know the full extent of the damage until he wakes up."
"And when will that be?" Kono asked sounding breathless.
"Could be tomorrow, maybe Saturday. He may even wake up tonight."
"Can we see him?" Kono questioned moving to stand next to me.
"One or two at a time," Wesley replied quietly.
"I'll wake Grace," Kono muttered but I gently grabbed her arm.
"Take her back to my place, have her get some sleep, and bring her back tomorrow." Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's almost mid-night. I'll call if anything changes." She nodded and walked toward Grace.
"Gracie, wake up," she said quietly shaking Grace's arm.
"How's Danno?" Grace questioned after she stirred awake.
"He's…" Kono met my eyes silently asking me for help.
"Grace," I said walking toward her. I crouched down to her eyelevel and continued, "You know Danno's hurt bad, right?" she nodded her brown eyes wide. "And as much as he would like to see you, I think he'd want you to go home and get some sleep, right now. He'll still be here tomorrow. Okay?" Uncertainty was etched across her eyes, but she nodded slowly. "Okay. So, you go with Kono, and she'll bring you back tomorrow."
"What about you?" she whispered.
"I'm going to stay here with Chin and Kamekona. We'll watch out for Danno, okay?" she nodded again. "Okay." I made to stand up, but barely made it more than a few inches when Grace slid from her chair and hugged me.
"He'll be okay," she whispered in my ear. "I know it."
"Me, too Gracie," I whispered back.
Not long after Kono and Grace left, leaving Chin and me standing in the middle of the waiting area. I glanced up at the ceiling, the lights above blurring slightly.
"I'm going to see Danny," Chin said quietly.
"Okay," I murmured still watching the ceiling.
"Are you coming?"
"In a minute," I responded and listened to him walk away. I glanced down when his footsteps had faded, staring at my hands. I was surprised to see them shaking slightly, the red making my skin feel grimy and stiff. I needed to clean them, now.
I raced toward the bathroom, nearly taking out an elderly man in a wheelchair, and crashed through the door. I turned the faucet on, full blast, and ran my hands under the water. I scrubbed as much of Danny's blood off as I could before adding a glob of soap. I scrubbed some more, watching the scarlet slowly swirl down the drain. Long after the blood was gone, I still scrubbed. For some reason my hands still felt dirty, felt as if Danny's blood was still staining them.
I finally turned the faucet off, my hands now red from the scalding water, and I moved toward the wall of mechanical hand-towel dispensers. I waved my hand under one, nothing happened. I tried it a second time, the thing still wouldn't work. Blindly I hammered on it, not even paying attention as a towel rolled free. I hit it twice more before I settled my back against the wall and slid to the floor. I ran my hands down my face, leaning my head back.
A part of me wanted to make Mason pay some more, maybe fire an entire clip into his body, but I was pretty sure ME's frowned upon cops befouling their bodies. Besides, I was too busy trying to convince myself this wasn't my fault to go after a dead guy.
And I know I couldn't possibly have predicted that Mason was going to shoot Danny. Despite the fact that Danny joked about it once, I wasn't psychic. Hell, I didn't even believe in psychics. But I should have done something, anything to stop this crap from happening. Maybe interfered at the beginning.
I couldn't believe what a cluster fuck the past two weeks have been. First Rachel died, followed by Marla Oliver's case dropping into our laps, then Rachel's death ended up being linked to Marla Olive's death, Danny became more obsessive than he'd ever been during a case, and I kicked him off.
I knew I should have just kept him off the case, but no. I had to let him back on, and now he's got two unneeded holes in his body. And the kicker, the thing that made me want to puke, was he hadn't been hurt because he did something stupid. No, he did everything by the book, exactly how Danny almost always did things. He had had an opportunity to kill the man responsible for Rachel's death, who stole Gracie's mother from her, but he didn't do it. He didn't do it and Mason took advantage of that.
Mason had broken free from his cuffs by using a concealed pin, inserted in his thumb, to jimmy the lock. He had elbowed the officer escorting him, took his gun, and fired at Danny. He had fired at my partner, with malice in his eyes, and I had been quick to take him down. Six rounds, rapid fire, entered his body and he had died on impact. Six rounds to take down a psycho and two to take down a man whose life had been drastically changed because of a series of unfortunate events. Events, might I add, that were the fault of the asshole who had shot him. It was almost poetic: in a sick and twisted way…
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I found Chin lurking outside Danny's room, leaning against the wall. Kamekona stood next to him, hands cupped around his face, looking into the room through the plate glass window. I stopped next to them, sniffed once, and said, "How's he doing?"
"Hasn't changed much in half an hour," Chin muttered glancing down at his hands. "You okay?"
"Fine," I muttered staring at the door uncertainly.
"Come on, cuz," Chin said suddenly gripping Kamekona by the elbow. "Let's go check out the nurses."
"But I wanna check on the little…" Kamekona trailed off, half-turned, glancing at me. "Okay, maybe my vending machine trick will impress one of them."
"Being able to hammer on a machine and get what you want isn't that impressive," Chin muttered dragging the big guy from the room.
"It is if you're one of the ladies." I waited until they were gone before I stepped forward. I paused at Danny's room, gripping my hands tightly into fists to stop their shaking, and then grabbed the knob, turned it, and entered.
Danny reminded me, for just a moment, like an android, hooked up to all those machines. Almost like he was getting his batteries charged, and he'd be good as new. I guess it would be easier to see him as a charging machine and not the injured man he was.
A heart monitor kept up a steady beeping, indicating he was alive. There was a needle in each arm, tubes snaking up to a pole. One was an IV, the other blood. A hospital gown covered the majority of his bandages, but I could still see white sticking out of the collar. His left arm was immobilized at his side by a collar and cuff sling, keeping him from further injuring his clavicle when he woke up. It was the most still I had seen Danny, the man who could never quite stop moving, in a long time. And I didn't like it.
"Hey," I said quietly taking a seat next to his bed. "You've seen better days." I took a breath and murmured, "At least you don't need a respirator. I know how you would handle that. Not being able to talk. It'd drive you crazy." I chuckled humorlessly. "Bad enough you can't use your left hand. Meaning no hand talking for a while… Well, no double hand talking."
I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, and whispered, "You've gotta wake up. Because Gracie's gonna wanna see her Danno. And you know you can't let her down. You've never let her down." I didn't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't surprised when his eyes stayed stubbornly closed. I leaned back, running a hand down my face. It was worth a shot, right…?
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1993…
Uncle Marty was buried a few days after he died. Dad showed up, I noticed him standing under a tree, trying not to be seen. When he spotted me looking his way, he pushed away from the tree and started toward his vehicle.
I quickly jogged toward him, hoping to get to him before he reached his car, not even sure what I was going to say to him.
"Hey, Dad," I called but he kept walking. "Dad, stop." He kept walking. "Look, you abandoned me and Mary. The least you can do it talk to me."
"I didn't abandon you, Steve," Dad said stopping. He turned to face me, his face unreadable, and said, "I had my reasons for sending you two away."
"I don't care what your reasons were," I snapped. "You split up our family. You sent me and Mary thousands of miles away from each other. And the kicker, the thing that really gets me, is you didn't have the decency to answer any of my calls."
"I called you," he protested.
"Yeah, a year after Mom died!" I shouted back feeling the eyes of Marty's friends on my back, my father flinched. "But I called you the first few weeks I was here, and you didn't answer. You didn't answer and that hurt Dad. It hurt." My eyes were stinging, but I refused to cry in front of my dad. Even mad at him, I had this need to show him I was brave. Plus, I was almost eighteen, almost a man. Men didn't cry in front of other men.
"I know, Kiddo. I was just…"
"What, Dad? Busy?" I shook my head slowly. "It doesn't matter. Good-bye, Dad." I started to walk away, but my father called me back.
"Are you coming back to Hawaii after graduation?' he asked an unidentifiable look in his eyes.
"No," I replied honestly. "Uncle Marty…" I cleared my throat. "Uncle Marty got a hold of some of his SEAL buddies. They needed new recruits. I'm joining the SEALs. I start training after I graduate."
"That's… That's…" I could tell Dad didn't know what to say.
"I guess you can thank Mom for this," I said quietly. "If she hadn't of died…" I trailed off biting my lip. "Who knows what I would have become." And I walked away from Dad before he could say anything…
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Danny…
2006…
My side felt oddly numb when I came to. My eyelids took some coaxing, but they eventually opened only to slam shut when the dim lights drilled into them. I wasn't sure how long I had been out, but the fact that light nearly blinded me meant it had to of been a while.
"Danny," a familiar voice said into my ear. "Danny, can you hear me?"
"Rachel?" I whispered and forced my eyes open, again. I let my head roll across the bed, my blue eyes meeting her brown ones. Worry was etched across her face, in her eyes. Her hair was messy and her face was pale and drawn from sleeplessness. "What happened?"
"You were shot," she said a flash of anger plaguing her face before the worry returned. "Don't you remember?"
"I…" it took some pushing, but my muddled mind finally brought the memories back. I had been shooting my gun, then a bullet had hit me in the side (it explained why it was so numb. Docs must have had me on the good stuff), and then it was just flashes until I woke up. "What happened to…?"
"Shh," she said putting her finger to my lips. "Don't worry about that. Just rest."
"But the guys. Was I the only one…?"
"Yes, Daniel, you were," she snapped and I flinched from her tone, pulling on my side. The pain would have been a lot worse had I not been on whatever I was on. "You were," she said quieter, her eyes shining. "I've been here for three days, waiting for you to wake up.
"Gracie's been asking about us, wanting to know where we were, and your mother did not know what to tell her." She sniffed, looking down at her hands.
"Is she okay?" I asked quietly.
"She's three and a half, Daniel. She's not going to understand that her father has been shot. I had your mother tell her you were sick."
"What about my ma?"
"She yelled at your partner for not watching you."
"Poor Walker," I tried to joke.
"It is not funny, Danny. I could have lost you. Hell, I almost did lose you. And you are acting like you do not even care."
"I care, Rach. I care…" I tried to catch her hand, but the IV stopped me.
She sniffed once, met my eyes, and quietly said, "I did some thinking while you were out."
"What about?" it felt as if ice slid into my stomach, the bad feeling from earlier was back. I tried to push it down, but it kept rising.
"I can't…" she sniffed again, looking down. "I can't do it anymore, Daniel."
"Do what?" I asked hoarsely, my mouth suddenly drier than when I awoke.
"I can't wait by the phone, wondering when the call will come. The one where…" she trailed off, nearly choking on a sob. "I can't," she whispered and I watched a tear trail down her face.
"Rachel, I…"
"I'm leaving, Danny."
"The hospital?" I questioned hopefully. She couldn't be referring to anything else, it just wasn't possible. I refused to believe it.
"You, Daniel," she said and another tear slid down her face. "I'm sorry." She stood, racing from the room, leaving me barely breathing. She left me. I can't believe she left me…