I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: apologies for the delay. Put the brakes on the beta of this originally final chapter as the muse got some gumption to add a 6th chapter and an Epilogue. So things got a tad changed up here!
And KomodoQueen was right ... she was giggling at the onset of my 5 chapter goal. But it WAS 5 ... for a solid week! 5 until the breakfast muse became a crazed manic mess and purged a bit more. It's still less than 10 chapters though. Don't I get points for that?
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O
Chin rocked his jaw hard to the right, but didn't say anything as he stood in the empty room with his hands on his hips. Half-illuminated by the late night lighting, it was solemn in its emptiness which only worsened his dour mood. While Steve was allowed a brief audience with Danny, the ex-SEAL had made another unexpected demand. Any and all flowers, generic gifts and balloons were to be sent somewhere else ... anywhere else. After editing what he felt appropriate to take away, Chin had simply opted for the children's ward where the flowers and few arbitrary gifts might be more appreciated. Chin knew that Steve hadn't meant it for the terrible way his request had at first sounded. As Chin silently agreed while senselessly pacing the empty room, his thoughts solely on Danny's well-being, they were now both equally upset by the current state of affairs.
Chin had taken the demand in stride because Steve's foul mood was completely understandable. Anything he might say which sounded suspect, should - and would be - justifiably excused. Sighing deeply as he checked the time, Chin was more than worried about Danny, too. He was antsy, disturbed and now that he'd promptly disposed of all the gifts and had no other distractions or jobs, he was unable to sit still as he tried to patiently wait for an update on his friend's condition.
He heaved in another big breath of air, expelling it loudly in the empty space. Except for two or three get-well cards and a potted plant with a large yellow bow, the two-bed hospital room was essentially barren compared to what it had once been. Chin chuffed a non-discriminate sound under his breath as he picked up the television remote as if to watch TV and then tossed it aside in favor of staring at the potted plant. It's deep green leaves and the flamboyantly large bow were now the only real spot of color in the otherwise drab room.
"Get all of that stuff gone, Chin," Steve had quietly demanded. "Send it to the lobby or reception ... break rooms. I don't care where ... just get it gone." His eyes had been dark and glassy, yet his voice firm. He'd brooked no argument even as Chin had tried to object. While it at first might have seemed a negative knee-jerk reaction to what Steve had evidently now deemed a problem, what Chin had helped to do was slowly starting to feel right.
There was a quick footstep in the corridor and he glanced up automatically, his eyes on the doorway. He knew who it was before she even rounded the corner and he'd already prepared himself when Kono appeared, two travel cups of coffee in hand.
"Hey," he welcomed her quietly. "Coffee. Thanks, cuz." He hummed a happy sound as he gladly accepted what she offered him with both hands so he could practically hug the hot cup to this chest. He'd been on his feet for hours now and was restless with anxiety; a fresh cup of coffee was precisely what he'd needed.
"Chin?" Kono asked breathlessly, stunned to see two empty beds. Her expression then changed to one of utter confusion when she noticed how empty the room was. With its former vibrancy of colors now gone, the space was woefully sterile except for the mussed condition of the two beds. More questions popped into her mind and she had to pause before pressing on about the urgent and much too short voicemail message which her cousin had left on her phone.
"I ... I got your message and came here as fast as I could. What happened and where's Steve? It's not the two of them, is it? Something with the transplant surgery ... did something go wrong?"
"No. It's just Danny. He ... he's pretty sick, cuz," Chin replied. "Steve's with him now; he's just out of recovery and they've moved him back to the intensive care unit. No one really should be with him yet, but Doctor Benning was kind enough to at least allow Steve to see him ... even if Danny might not be able to talk too much quite yet."
"Recovery?" Kono blinked, the news rocking her into a momentary lull because that one word indicated a startling revelation; something that she'd never considered. "Surgery? Chin? He had surgery ... and he's back in the ICU? How ... how bad? Is it a complication from the donor surgery? God, Chin ... what are we going to tell Grace?" She stammered and stumbled over her words, not understanding and so badly stunned to hear the news that she had to literally sit down in the guest chair.
"It's not from the donor surgery," Chin said as he began another brief round of pacing in front of the beds. He shook his head, stopping to take a sip from the coffee cup before continuing.
"He got hurt in the plane crash ... worse than anyone knew."
Brow furrowed, Kono's mouth gaped open soundlessly. But scarcely a minute later, her words came fast and furious.
"He was fine ... he said he was fine. He said he was just cold. What the hell happened that he'd need to be operated on? This doesn't make any sense, Chin! The plane crash ... what... that was days ago. Days ago! So, what happened ... and why wouldn't the doctors have known before now?"
"He wasn't just banged up," Chin explained as he began to nervously pace the length of the room again. "He had an underlying problem ... I'm waiting to hear more. But from what I understand, the blunt force trauma from the plane crash, the broken ribs and then ... his insistence on getting to the meth lab to finish the mission. All of it, Kono ... even after he'd been checked out for the donor surgery ... it's all been working against him and he had a slow bleed which finally ... just got worse."
"But...it's been days," Kono objected, all other unspoken questions now died on her lips when her cousin merely shook his head with a dismal shrug. Their eyes met and she read the sorrow and pain which were lingering on the surface. She was taken aback by Chin's brief explanation and still perplexed as to how something so critical could have been missed.
"Is Danny going to be okay?" She asked quietly, outwardly wincing when Chin simply couldn't willingly provide the answer she wanted to hear. Feeling weak-kneed, she stayed seated in the guest chair unable to find a meaningful word to say or valid question to ask. For minutes on end, the two stayed together in the hospital room. Kono seated in a round-shouldered slump and staring at nothing, while Chin went back to his endless pacing.
The murmur of voices softly echoing in from the corridor eventually got their attention though and both looked up, relieved, when a wheel-chair-ridden Steve was escorted into the room by an orderly. Face grim, Steve nodded almost curtly to acknowledge Kono's presence as he was helped into his bed from the wheelchair.
After he was settled, Steve glanced around the room and nodded again. This time to Chin because he approved of the changes which had been made during his absence.
"Thank you," he muttered hoarsely. "It's better ... much better." His eyes were red-rimmed and his general demeanor overly subdued. As soon as the sheets were flicked over his body and the orderly had gone, Steve leaned his head back, eyes closed, and let out a long, weary exhale.
"Sure. Of course," Chin replied. He outwardly cringed though, a circumspect glance aimed towards his cousin to remain quiet, before asking the most sensitive question of the hour since it didn't look as if Steve might offer the update without prompting.
"So? How's Danny, Steve? Is he all right?"
Without opening his eyes, Steve slowly rocked his head from side to side. "Sick. Hurting. The surgery was rough on him," he mumbled tiredly. "Danny knew I was there, but was mostly out of it. Benning has him on a lot of meds to keep him comfortable. She wants him to rest ... to sleep."
"He is going to be all right though?" Kono carefully asked, worried when her boss didn't reply right away. "Steve? Is Danny going to be okay?"
"You were right," Steve said quietly after a moment's pause. He seemed to struggle to open his eyes in order to speak directly to her, his voice contrite. "Before? When you said he seemed cold and too tired? You were right, Kono. There was something wrong and you picked up on it ... he never should have been that cold."
"It was only a guess, Boss," Kono replied, worried about where Steve might be going with his line of conversation. "And Danny didn't say too much either." Her tone was sad while a weak toss of her hand communicated her feeling of uselessness. "He wasn't feverish... he just seemed tired. A little out of sorts, a little cold, but mostly just tired and wanting to sleep."
"More than tired," Steve stated bitterly, his own tone beginning to reek of a sarcasm entirely aimed at himself. "I thought he was just complaining like he always does. I ignored it ... and I waved it all off. He was getting sicker by the minute ... and you knew."
"I didn't really know," Kono objected softly. "I didn't know ... I just wasn't sure. Danny didn't seem right; that's all."
"Yeah, and Steve ... there's no blame here. Danny downplayed it, too," Chin gently argued back. "He didn't think anything was wrong ... I know it doesn't make it right or okay, but he didn't think that he could be this sick. It snuck up on all of us ... hell, it even snuck up on the doctors!"
Ever the voice of reason, Chin scowled almost defensively when Steve narrowed his eyes in disagreement. "You can't blame yourself," Chin insisted quietly. "None of us knew anything was wrong. All that I mean is that Danny didn't know either ... it's no one's fault!"
"Fine. Okay. Maybe you're right," Steve whispered unconvincingly. "Benning might even agree with you on that, Chin. There's other things though."
He paused once more, his expression thoughtful, before speaking again. He pointed around the now near empty room, purposefully picking out the places where the balloons and over-abundance of cards and gifts had once been strewn together.
"Listen. I don't know if it just happened ... I don't know if it was done on purpose," Steve said as he leaned back into the pillows, the palms of his hands pressed heavily over his eyes. He stayed that way as he continued speaking, his voice partially muffled by his own arms.
"Hell, I don't know anything anymore. But it stops now. I ... we ... whatever the hell just happened. It can't be fixed by sending a few more cards or buying a few more gifts. It's too damned late for that anyway. It's not even what I'm getting at."
"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Chin admitted first. "What other things? What has to be fixed? What are you talking about, Steve?"
"God, I don't know," Steve moaned out plaintively. His hand waved through the air before he pointed to the potted plant and its large yellow bow. He was going to use it as an example until he recognized it as a gift from Grace and Charlie, likely ordered and paid for by Danny's ex-wife. Chin had done what he'd asked, but wisely. He'd been very smart about what he'd taken away. Almost apologetically, Steve's hand dropped limply down to the bed while he shook his head in frustration.
"Tell me this. What did you do for Danny?" Steve murmured. He looked from one cousin to the other and then asked again. "I mean ... I know you all did a lot for me. But what did you do for him?"
Kono blinked rapidly at the unexpected nature of the question, her eyes welling with tears for reasons she couldn't at first put her finger on. But before she could say anything, Steve was talking again, this time more to himself.
"Dammit, maybe I don't even mean you. Maybe ... I mean me. What have I done for Danny?" Steve whispered just under his breath before he closed his eyes, his head sinking heavily into the pillows.
Kono swallowed hard as she helplessly glanced over to her cousin. The emptiness of the room made sense now. The sheer lack of get-well cards, balloons and miscellaneous gifts. Though she and Chin were scared and worried, Danny's sudden turn for the worse had completely unraveled their boss. Steve was scared and feeling no small amount of guilt for the excessive attention thrown his way.
"I think it just happened," Kono replied softly. "I really do and then ... it just ... I don't know, Boss. When the first few get-well cards came in; all addressed to you. I have to admit that it seemed funny at first. But I get it now. I do and for whatever part I had in this... I'm sorry."
Instead of verbally answering, Steve gave a curt nod which did little to put either cousin at ease. Physically and emotionally drained, he lacked the energy to open his eyes, their burn persistent even behind closed lids. He was exhausted, yet equally upset and unable to rest his mind or his body.
"It's so much more than a few cards, letters and balloons. And to be fair, I don't think it's all on you ... if at all. There's a lot more going on that's completely on me," Steve spoke quietly, his voice low and raspy.
"The bottom line is that Danny did everything right." Eyes welded shut, he blew out a long, weary sigh as he replayed the crash scene images and reports in his head. "Danny maintained control of a volatile situation, landed a crippled bird, kept each one of us alive ... and then, God help me, he did it again. He did everything right ... except take care of himself. It seems like everything else that happened this week, here, in the hospital, just made it all worse."
The innuendo about their own role in that was still there though and it was left hanging in the air despite Steve's soft recitation, and Chin held his hand up when Kono opened her mouth to forestall her words. Officially on the same page as the younger man, Chin sensed Steve's emotions to be on incredibly shaky ground. Once more, rightly so if Danny was now so sick and even if it wasn't anyone's fault in particular. It still felt like it was someone's fault. It felt as if they'd let one of their own down and it felt like someone should be blamed. In the very least, it felt as if one of them should have done more for Danny along the way and the balloons, the sheer volume of gifts and cards which Steve had demanded now be banished from their shared room were all nothing more than kindling to the visual proof.
At first a little confused by Steve's orders to clean out the shared hospital room, Chin finally understood that order even better now. The one-sided field of get-well wishes and written kudos was no longer amusing; it was tacky. Inappropriate. At first mostly unaffected by the display, Chin got it and like Steve, he felt bad.
"When can we see him?" Chin asked, his look for Kono to remain quiet more severe than he'd intended. Yet it served its purpose as she held her tongue.
"Tomorrow," Steve answered quietly, his voice hoarse and wracked by fatigue. "Doctor Benning said maybe later in the day, tomorrow; Danny needs to rest. He's had quite a setback; quite a scare."
"Yeah ... I know. I know," Chin sighed out while rubbing a hand through his hair. He felt personally aggrieved by being dismissed and sensed the same in his cousin. However, Steve needed the time to sleep too, as did Danny. Steve hadn't properly answered Kono's question either about Danny. If he might be okay. If he was going to get well and heal. They'd have to assume the best though and wait until the next day to see both their friends. Hopefully, both in a much better setting and frame of mind.
"We're going to go, Steve. We'll come back later ... first thing in the morning. We'll check on Danny first," Chin said. He nodded towards Kono because he sensed Steve's own needs - both mental and physical. The younger man had already had a long night and it was just turning dawn. He was exhausted and hurting both inside and out.
"Why don't you get some rest now, too." When Steve didn't answer or even open his eyes to acknowledge them, the cousins snuck out of the room together, sobered and unsettled.
~ to be continued ~