I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Oh boy! This chapter really owes a debt of gratitude to KomodoQueen such expert coaching. Thank you! :-) And ongoing thanks to both CinderH and TheDogo for continued expert beta help (patiently wading through last minute requests). This was an incredibly difficult chapter to pull together.
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Doctor Ramirez plunged his hands automatically into his pockets and then winced as the habitual move pulled on the few standard stitches in his upper arm. He was standing opposite his wife over Danny's bed in the ICU visiting his patient and reconfirming optimistic results. Originally engrossed in each and every one of those readings, he was now surreptitiously glancing to his wife as she needlessly rechecked the tubes which had been repositioned over Danny's mouth to avoid chafing. He could have sworn that Ellen was equally involved with her patient, yet her dry retort was entirely for him.
"What did I tell you about using the sling for a day or two, Alphonse? If I have to restitch that arm I'm not going to be as nice this time."
They had seemingly moved past much of what had happened except for the occasional dig or what seemed like friendly banter. But where Ponch certainly might have moved on with his usual stoicism, Ellen certainly had not and neither had Doctor Jasper Mitchell, who had discovered a sizable - and now much unwanted - deposit to the clinic's accounts.
"Yes, dear. The sling." Ponch's disgusted soft guttural reply, proving Ellen was correct, earned him a genuine playful grin though and he relaxed with a nod. His penance would be its actual use.
"Steve and Kono are outside. We should tell them the good news." Ponch turned the subject back to Danny's continually improving status. As the toxin left his system, he was indeed taking more spontaneous breaths himself around the ventilator's supportive settings. And though his hand and arm still boasted a great deal of impressive swelling, the near-hourly neuro-vascular observations were additionally steadily optimistic.
Following her husband's studied gaze, Ellen pointed to the injured hand in relief. "Circulation is very good according to the charts."
"Small blessings," Ponch muttered under his breath. The myriad of unfair and completely unnecessary injuries which had befallen the detective had become an incomprehensible state of affairs. Their combined relief was evident now as Danny's condition approached something much more acceptable.
He lingered over the bed as Ellen joined him from the far side to briefly take his good hand and he smiled. The not so chaste peck he warmly landed on top of her head won him a surprising display as Ellen pulled his arm over her shoulders so she could tuck into his body. It was a sobering gesture because she was indeed still very upset and he sighed knowingly.
"Everything's going to be fine," he promised softly as he hugged her more tightly before pulling her along. "Let's go see Steve, Kono and whomever else has decided to camp out in this fine establishment."
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Eleven very long hours had gone by and Steve was pacing panther-like circles in the ICU's hallway. He'd been forced to go home, change, and even sleep but the experience was more of a trial than a healthful break. It was additionally highlighted by his own most recent worst experience. That being his personal responsibility in contacting Danny's ex-wife, Rachel Edwards, to inform her of Danny's injuries and prognosis so that she might in turn, prepare their young daughter, Grace. The phone call had been tantamount to a small disastrous whirlwind as Rachel interrogated Steve with skills that rivaled her ex-husband's. Wrung out from the meteoric event, Steve only garnered that he'd promised to call often with more suitable updates which would permit Grace a more timely visit.
An hour after his return, he and Kono had been summarily kicked from Danny's room first by Doctor Ramirez and then by Ellen who had arrived shortly after. They had been denied access because even though Danny looked the same, a great many things had changed and now they were changing again. In her excitement and perhaps a bit premature, Kono had left the ICU to demand that Chin return as soon as possible.
"So?" Steve rounded on both husband and wife as soon as they each stepped one foot over the lintel. Also having retreated to his home for a well-deserved rest, Ponch at least looked better than he had the prior day. Based upon their tangled hands, it was obvious though that Ellen would not be letting him much out of her sight for the foreseeable future.
"So, he's definitely breathing more on his own and the ventilator's been switched to something called pressure support. It will allow him to breathe on his terms but will also ensure he is getting enough oxygen so he doesn't have to work so hard," Doctor Ramirez explained patiently.
"He's coming off the vent then? When?" Pushing hard, Steve leaned forward with a keen interest. He had to grin when Ramirez shoved his hands deeply into his pockets, only to hiss angrily at himself as he yanked one arm up to his chest. Amused, Steve's eyes flew from Ponch's face to Ellen's as she snorted loudly.
"Sling. Old fool." Ellen leered up at her husband with a not so gentle slap across his good hand. "I'll be right back, Alphonse."
His strangled sigh corresponded to his gaze which followed his wife as she stalked away to either retrieve the aforementioned sling from their truck or obtain a new one from stores.
Strangely for Steve, the attempt at Ponch's habitual bounce and the resulting entire exchange were calming reactions to his question and entirely Ramirez. Combining Ellen's demeanor with that meant that the two were pleased and about to second and third the updates Steve had been given earlier from the nurse's station.
"I can't say when, Steve, and I'm not lifting the sedation just yet." The preamble did little to wipe the grin from Steve's face and Ramirez raised a cautionary finger to finalize his point. "His oxygen saturation has room for improvement and he still needs the vent to compensate even though he's spontaneously trying to breathe more naturally."
"Alright." Steve dialed back his excitement. It was going to take time to wean his partner off the machinery and then more time to lift the sedation so he'd waken. However, what hadn't been entirely voiced quite yet was extremely significant. "But Danny's better? He is better?"
The half-grin leaked one-sided from Ponch's face at the same time he nodded. "Yes, he's better. When the time is right, we'll begin to wake him by dialing back the sedation and then, we'll remove the tube. And though it may not look it quite yet for the swelling, his hand and arm are also continuing to show signs of improvement."
"That's good, Doc." Enormously relieved, Steve slumped sloppily backwards into the wall just as Kono gracefully re-entered the ICU. Her eyes widened at Steve's smile which automatically changed her walk to a jog when she saw them speaking in the hallway. Her expectant eyes warred between worried and hopeful despite his expression and Steve chuffed a sound. With her own look so demanding, Ponch would need to repeat nearly everything he'd just said. But then, Steve wanted to hear every single syllable once more himself.
"I called Chin and he's on the way. What's the verdict? Is Danny better?" Kono queried quickly, amused by Ponch's eye roll and Steve's overly dramatic response as he leaned comfortably into the wall and folded his arms.
Glaring good-humoredly at Steve, Ponch caught himself this time before inadvertently plunging both hands into the pockets of his long white doctor's coat. As he began his recitation for Kono's sake, Ponch blatantly ignored Steve's short chuckle and the fact that his wife was already returning with a rather restrictive looking sling.
Of course, there was still going to be the issue of Danny's eyes though. As he listened to the second round of the doctor's updates, those thoughts raced through Steve's head strong enough to erase the grin and a portion of the good news he'd just heard. But they were finally making headway and slowly overcoming each obstacle.
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Not quite awake, Danny was only dimly conscious of a warmth trapping his left hand and another heavy weight encircling his shoulder. He wasn't even aware enough to be overly concerned yet that he could see nothing in front of his eyes. In fact, there was such a plain pitch blackness, he was almost sure that he might even still be sleeping. Confused and muzzy-headed, he dozed briefly feeling a steady presence nearby and the continued calming pressure on his left shoulder. The warmth gradually moved in a relaxed rotational circle and he belatedly realized that it was a hand. He chose the soothing sensation as his sole focus while fighting through hazy thoughts which were no more than gibberish.
His first conscious breath under the oxygen mask was actually a wispy sigh, causing the rotational pull to deepen briefly as if encouraging him for more. It was comforting yet demanding at the same time and still, Danny refused to move. Instead, he lay there forcing his brain to catch up to the present as more physical sensations returned. Many of which were far from pleasant. Reluctant to budge so much as a finger, he lay there as before focusing on the one constant as he slowly recalled faint feelings of trying to breathe, a raggedly coughed ache and then murmurs of deep voices that were demanding yet held no words. He swallowed carefully and winced for the too dry ache, yet he still hoped he was dreaming. Or, did he?
A distant hint of a remembered something lurked in the recesses of his mind. A hazily, darkly shadowed something which teased him only to disperse into a hazy blur of color and smeared light leaving him with nothing but a very real memory of physical pain.
"No." Distressed, Danny moaned softly. On the exhale, his breath whitely ghosted the oxygen mask as it turned into a fine mist. Subsequent weak attempts at movement were quickly aborted as his awareness increased. His right arm ached deeply, it was too heavy to move, and something else besides the odd warmth trapped his left one. Both familiar and strange, the warmer pressure tightened instantly to correspond to a voice. But this time, Danny understood the words as he tentatively sucked in a tendril of oxygen through overly dry lips.
"Come on back, Danno." Steve's voice intoned near his left ear. "Can you wake up a bit more?" Exhausted, weary with stress and fraught with a deep concern, Steve's voice was persistent in its worry. The disembodied voice was attached to Steve's hands which were vainly attempting to anchor Danny to something solid because he was blind ... he couldn't see. And as they'd all been warned, waking would be a traumatic affair.
But Danny's next hesitant breath still held the vestiges of a moan. He wasn't sure what to do yet as images combined with voices and he failed at understanding what belonged together. His body felt heavy and lethargic. Around those disconcerting feelings, his right hand ached with a heated sincerity into his upper arm, as did his head.
"Sick." His mumble was faint as his stomach lurched and Danny's broken whisper was met by what felt like a stunned stillness of the calming rotational sensation on his shoulder. The pause lasted for a hairs-breadth of time before it resumed with perhaps a bit more rapid of a cadence.
"You're okay, Danno. Ponch wants you awake and he's on his way back now." Steve heard the incoherently whispered sound and then felt it; the tremble and tension which blasted through his partner's weakened body. Quickly jumping in to offer soft reassurances, Steve knew that Danny was waking more based upon the much too evident sensations of fear.
"Danny. You're okay and ... not blind." Immediately, Steve went to the source of the issue as Danny's fingers tightened spasmodically on his hand. He almost regretted his words as Danny shivered under his hand when he jolted to full awareness. Seconds later Danny was weakly fighting to shake Steve free to touch his face and summarily being denied.
"It's only bandages and you have lines in your hand and arm so be careful," Steve vowed as he watched the understandable response. Nervous of the carefully laid intravenous lines and Danny's uncertain weakness, Steve physically guided his shaking hand to his face.
"Go slow," Steve cautioned softly. Carefully, Danny used two fingers to trace the outline of the gauze and then felt the thickness of the two pads covering each eye. His startled intake of breath and uncomprehending shake of his head had Steve gently grappling with his left hand with a rushed explanation as he insisted that Danny lower his hand to the bed and leave it there.
"There's no abrasions or issues at all. Nothing is wrong. You're being treated with an antibiotic eye ointment and the pads are for protection only. The ophthalmologist has been in here countless times, Danny. Your eyes are fine and are only going to stay covered for a few more hours."
There was no verbal response though and Steve couldn't help the increased symmetrical rubbing of his shoulder as muscles quaked under his hand. "Calm down. You're okay," Steve admonished worriedly as the heart monitor began to trill a pending problem. "Danny, I know you can hear me but you aren't listening. You need to calm down."
Scarcely thirty minutes off life support and Danny had reached lower levels of consciousness. He was still on propofol to keep him calm, as well as fentanyl to manage any pain but despite the care, he was still vaguely on a worried edge. Due to the strong medication, he didn't remember what had happened in its entirety and he'd been dozing on and off consistently as his body re-acclimated to itself. With a demanding communicative look, Steve signaled Kono or Chin to get help as the doctors had only recently left the room. Both wound up going and Steve turned quickly back to his downed partner. "The antivenin took care of everything and your eyes are fine. It's just going to take a few more hours to get it all out of your system." Again he was met by silence, knowing that Danny was trying to process everything but failing miserably.
"Doc." Chin's relieved voice reached Danny's ears. "He's really awake this time."
Danny knew that the entire team was there and now some doctor or another had entered the room. He briefly jerked in surprise when he felt the larger than life presence loom over him to evict Steve from his side. The soothing warmth of the strong hand was gone from his shoulder, and fingers spasmed when he lost the same touch from his hand. Danny fidgeted down as if hiding, feeling a worried dampness spring out across his neck and forehead.
"Something's wrong. He's not talking." Steve was beside himself as Ponch physically moved him aside, enough to lose his tactile touch.
"Detective." Danny knew it was Ponch then as the larger hand enveloped his own, the other methodically evaluating a much too rapid pulse rate and the various machines which were seemingly unhappy despite the waking state of their weak charge.
"Detective. Danny." Broaching no apologies and extremely firm, Ponch's voice drilled a hole through the solid ache in his head. Even so, Danny was having a difficult time believing the words for the miserable way he felt. "You're perfectly fine. I know it doesn't seem that way quite yet. But, you're going to be completely alright and you need to calm down."
There was a pause as if the room were waiting for something and Danny knew it was for him. But he failed again at finding his voice as he measured the startling reality of his sightless vision and the throbbing headache swarming at the base of his neck. The silence was deafening and even he could only hear his own staccato breaths as he tried to speak without even knowing what to say.
"Okay." It was all he could manage as he began to catalogue other new and very uncomfortable sensations. The headache was on the scale of a migraine, he was dizzy, and then there was the subject of his hand. Beginning at the back of his right hand, this other heated ache blossomed upwards to throb relentlessly into wrist and forearm as if he were intentionally being burned. An experimental twitch of his fingers made matters worse and he winced as the deep pain flared.
"Are you in pain, Danny?" Ponch was closer as the bed dipped and the man sat next to his hip. As diligent as ever, but with a much softer demeanor, the big doctor waited him out while evaluating the tightness of man's lips and short panted inhales and exhales under the oxygen mask. Waking blindly, confused and in pain were all frightening experiences.
"Yeah. Dizzy." Danny licked his lips, realizing too that his throat was truly raw and it hurt upon expressing the simplest of sounds. He had nothing to swallow with as he tried again, yet did no better.
"Yeah." Raspy and dry, he forced his tongue to work alongside a slow nod which was decidedly a very poor idea. His pained grimace and the tight lines around his mouth communicated the scale of the pounding in his head.
"Headache?" Ponch seemed to know, yet he was leaning over to examine Danny's splinted and wrapped wounded hand.
"This too, I take it." He was pleased to have seen the fingers twitch quite strongly, but the doctor also catalogued the wince compounded by an erratic intake of whistled air. Behind him, hovering, Steve shifted worriedly on his feet.
"I'll take care of that but I need you to calm down because you are going to be fine. Can you do that for me?" Ponch's hand wound up on the middle of his patient's chest, exactly where his heart pounded so violently to echo a painful pulse beat in his headached temple. "Danny, you've never been this quiet. I need you to answer me."
Frowning in displeasure, the big doctor shook his head pensively. The entire team was growing in its universal concern as their friend woke contrary to his usual gregarious personality. Then again, none of them, including himself had ever experienced such a frighteningly obscure incident.
"You do understand that you're going to be alright?" Maintaining his steady pressure across Danny's chest, fingers were splayed wide to anchor his friend. He was also physically monitoring the too rapid, solid thrumming of a heart which he was mentally trying to will to a more placid pace.
"I need you to think about your breathing. Calm down and try your best to relax." Ponch had spent endless hours on the telephone with two mainland experts. Both had explained the typical overwhelming sense of fear that victims experienced just after a bite and then even as they woke.
"Yeah." One and then two solid beats later, Danny whispered out a mirror image of the earlier sound he'd made before revising his words. He sucked in a careful lungful of pure oxygen, but his attempt at a controlled exhale failed as it shuddered unhappily past his lips in a noisy rush.
"Slow it down, Danny. I understand and completely appreciate how you feel." A disgruntled soft noise from Ponch mixed understanding with exasperation and yet, it was the trick to force Danny's attention to be more committed to the task at hand. Eventually, he did succeed in breathing more naturally to be rewarded with a gentle and more approving pat on his shoulder.
"Better. But it's a half-ass attempt even for you," Ponch softly drawled with a friendly lilt in his tone before falling serious again. "I promise that you're going to be alright. Take your time."
"Okay. Sorry. Yeah." Muffled by the mask, Danny grimaced as he felt the head of the bed slowly begin to elevate. It was positioned at a purposefully gentle incline yet he felt both vulnerable and trapped at the same time. He was tired, in pain and still wearily confused regardless of wisely spoken and very calm explanations. Tentatively and now with the doctor's guidance, he used his left hand again to trace the bandages, aware now of the pinching feeling and that his hand was still unable to keep from shaking.
Next to his hip, Ponch watched each and every careful move and then signaled to Steve for the small cup nearest the bedside. The grinding wet sound of ice cubes reached Danny's ears but he didn't react even though his throat was parched and he ached for relief. He was afraid to move; afraid to speak and even afraid to think.
"He needs more time. I'll get the pain medication and a light sedative; keep talking to him. Remind him that everything is going to be absolutely fine." The bed dipped down as Ponch levered himself up only to push Steve into place. The doctor moved the oxygen mask aside and then tapped his watch for Steve to watch how long it was not in place.
"Water, Danno. It's mostly ice but it should help." Hollow-voiced, Steve's own depression increased as his usually verbose partner momentarily retreated to come to terms with what he was being told versus what he was experiencing.
"Ponch went for pain medication. Have some water, you've got to be thirsty." Holding the cup and straw, Steve was whispering calmly enough. If Danny could see his partner's face though, Steve was anything but calm. At the foot of the bed, both Chin and Kono looked almost lost and uncomfortable as Danny's waking was less than happily enthusiastic. Newly alarmed by his partner's waking reactions, Steve eyes spoke volumes about his own feelings of helplessness as he focused on a lousy cup of ice water. "Open. There's a straw and then I'll put the oxygen back."
"Steve." Under the bandages, tears sprang against Danny's pained eyes. His outward appearance must have also changed as cheeks paled and tension once more took over his entire body.
"Right here. Have a drink, Danny." The brightly stated reply was instant as Danny felt the straw and forced himself to sip. He accepted the water and ice which Steve seemed determined to push on him because it was all he could do to help. The coolness offered an unexpected feeling of relief and Danny found himself briefly distracted.
"Better," Danny whispered the truth as the painful act of swallowing was soothed with the most simplest of things. "But ... now ... now what?" Danny's short feeling of contentment evaporated and a minute later, he now abandoned the water to grapple for Steve's wrist.
"Hey. We're all here. The worst is over. Promise," Kono quickly chimed in. "Chin's here, too. We never left and Duke's been calling every hour, on the hour."
The opposite side of the bed dipped as Kono joined the two. Though it was silent, she was openly crying now but successfully stifling everything except her own tears and a certain gruffness of voice. Her hand pushed back stray strands of blonde hair that had gotten snared under the white bandages around Danny's eyes and with a look from Steve, she replaced his oxygen mask. "Try to get some rest, Danny."
"If Ponch says you're fine, then you are. You know how he is." Chin tried his best to sound even impatient with Danny, earning a tiny smirk in reply. It was at least something and Steve felt the smallest release around the ball of tension in his own chest.
"Ain't that the truth." The few words and a subsequently chuffed rueful sound from Steve were the only things he could initially push out as Danny tightened his hold. The reactions continually spoke of feelings of entrapment and insecurity as another pained wince shifted the oxygen mask. Forcing each of his escalating emotion to behave in kind, Steve kept his next words equally light and tempered with a complete sincerity. "He's a tough old bird and he's never been wrong yet, Danno. Not once ... you'll be good as new in no time. Everything ... and I do mean everything ... is going to be fine."
"Doc's back," Kono whispered as she watched Danny grimace and swallow hard. Besides the physical discomfort, emotions were high and it was obvious that he didn't know quite what to believe yet. For a third time and still patiently assisted by his partner, Danny's hand went shakily up, this time to rub a circle just above the bandages in the middle of his forehead.
"I'm sorry, Danny. I know you don't feel well," Kono whispered with another gentle stroke to move damp strands of hair back from his forehead. The headache was bad, made worse by his very real emotional distress.
"This will help with the pain, Danny. It's unfortunately part and parcel of kicking this out of your system. What you're feeling is normal and everything is on track for you to be back on your feet in no time," Ponch vowed as he strode rapidly back into the room. His confidence was soothing and Danny nodded blindly as Ramirez administered fentanyl and a low dose sedative. Once more he chose to focus on Steve's hand which lay solidly now on his arm as if warning him to take care of jostling a line. But then the circular rotational pressure slowly began again as Steve almost nervously tried to provide more tactile support.
Little by little, the fentanyl relaxed Danny's fingers and then lessened the drilling pain at the base of his skull. The sedative lifted some of his anxiety to leave him feeling dull but able to listen to the peaceful conversation taking place across and over where he lay. Heaving a more settling sigh, Danny eventually fell back to sleep.
"He's asleep?" Steve asked uncertainly. Glancing towards Ramirez where the doctor was both watching Danny and the heart monitor, Steve let out the breath he'd been holding for hours on end when the doctor dared to smile.
"It may not be entirely what we expected, but his readings are stable. He's doing well," Ponch remarked quietly. It was evident that he was generally pleased and for whatever reason, that small smile and blatant reaction were what Steve needed to fully reconfirm that Danny was going to be alright.
"He's fine; he really is," Ramirez reconfirmed for the entire team as he turned to find three sets of worried eyes aimed his way. With another knowing smile, he snorted under his breath before restating the obvious. "He needs to sleep now."
A badly needed sleep that would consume more of the important time it would take for Danny to get even closer to fully healing.
~ to be continued ~