Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 22
Okay, here's the latest. Thank you for sticking with it despite the mess it's become. REALLY appreciated your comments and reviews. Thank you so very much.
As usual, Imaginary Beta did her best but sometimes she's easily confused depending on the severity of the ice cream hangover.
Disclaimer: Never made any money from the endeavor husband is still scratching his head over though ninja cats are happy because it means their portable kitty bed stays in one spot long enough so they can get comfy.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
Coincidence and Condolence
A couple hours ago:
It happened in a flash.
Before Brotman could even react, a furry missile flew past him with a hair-raising screech.
Eyes widening behind thick lenses, the man standing beside the car let out a screech of his own as he threw himself back into the Prius.
"Halt!" yelled the detective, hand automatically going for the thirty-eight in the holster clipped to his belt.
Slamming the door the frightened driver punched the button to raise the window but to no avail as at the last moment the cat leaped into the too slowly closing opening.
In his twenty plus years of being a cop, the HPD detective never had to shoot anyone. He didn't think a guy trying to escape a mauling from an obviously deranged cat necessarily deserved to be shot. With a loud curse, he reholstered his gun and rushed forward as the car in front of him began moving. He could hear screaming as it sped erratically away; nearly clipping several parked cars in its progress.
"Shit!" he yelled as he rushed back to his own unit, grabbing the radio from the dash and calling in a pursuit. He was never going to hear the end of this one!
In his frantic flight, the driver cut the corner by several feet; knocking over a newspaper rack and a stop sign before careening over the sidewalk and bumping back down onto the street to disappear around the corner.
Brotman threw the sedan into gear to speed after it. After rounding the same corner and making it only another half block, the sedan's bumper suddenly decided to give up its damaged hold and sagged down to drag on the asphalt; pieces of it breaking off and crunching under the tires. There was a loud pop and the car jerked to the side as Brotman felt the vibration and heard the unmistakable rumble-thud of a flattening tire. He had to pull over. There was no way he was going to catch the guy – even if the asshole was driving a Prius.
Slamming his hand on the steering wheel in frustration, he once again reached for the radio to contact dispatch.
Just what the fuck does the universe have against me today? He watched the little blue car disappear into the distance.
…
The present:
Dave Matsui fussed with the small potted plant, picking off any greenery that wasn't perfect. He wasn't even sure if McGarrett would appreciate the gesture. He was never sure if straight guys would feel weird about getting flowers from another guy when they were sick. He'd finally decided a small plant would probably be okay. He'd even had them place a small American flag into the middle of it. It was almost Memorial Day so maybe, if there was a problem, it could be taken as a gesture of remembrance?
The elevator dinged at the sixth floor and he exited into the long wide hallway lined on both sides with patient's rooms; the nurses' station about halfway down in the middle of it. Finding number 622, he knocked politely on the half-open door before pushing it slowly open the rest of the way. A pretty nurse smiled at him as she brushed past him on her way out saying, "The commander is awake again. I'm sure he'd like some company."
Her dark eyes twinkled and he could tell she liked what she was looking at. Too bad he wasn't straight. He'd never had any trouble whatsoever attracting females. Of course, being tall and athletic didn't hurt his attraction with either gender. It was just hard to find a guy worth the commitment. His last relationship had ended in disaster. No way was he going to get burned again.
McGarrett looked up as he entered the room; smiling in greeting but face ghostly pale with shadowed eyes as though he hadn't had any sleep. His dark hair stuck up in places with what could be curls if it was a little longer. The stubble on his lean jaw only served to make him somehow even more attractive.
Stop that! Dave reminded himself. You're not going to get anywhere with the guy no matter how adorable you think he is. That cute blonde already told you the guy is straight and has a girlfriend who could easily dismantle anyone who even so much as entertained the thought of anything happening with her man.
"Hello commander." he greeted, "I was so sorry to hear you'd wound up in the hospital. How are you feeling?" He set the plant down on the bed stand next to them. The hazel blue eyes were glassy and didn't seem to be tracking very well. Maybe he wouldn't even notice he'd been presented with flag decorated greenery.
"Not too bad." smiled McGarrett a little dazedly. "I've been shot so full of drugs nothing hurts at the moment. You'll have to excuse my King Tut impression though." he added as he gestured toward himself.
Dave chuckled at the reference to the heavily bandaged leg resting uncovered atop a pile of pillows. "Yeah, sure looks like we're going to miss our appointment at the gun range. I was really looking forward to it." earnestly replied the governor's aide.
"Yeah, I apologize for not being able to make it but there's a really mean nurse who won't let me out of bed." Raising a hand to put a finger before his lips in a cautioning gesture, he whispered loudly, "Her name's Bambi but don't laugh when you see her. It'll really piss her off."
Dave chuckled, realizing that the man in the bed was probably more than a little looped on pain meds. It will be interesting to see the commander without the armor-plated exterior he usually displays to the world. Sooo cute.
"I take it you're here for a couple more days yet? That bandage doesn't look like it's just for show."
"Seems to be the case. They don't want me walking around yet. Something about too many layers of stitching that could come undone and an artery and kidneys or something."
"Wow, that doesn't sound good. So you're feeling okay though?"
"How could I not. I'm pretty much loaded to the gills with the good stuff." grinned McGarrett; smile lopsided and a little goofy but still, it made Dave's heart melt. Stop that! Matsui reminded himself once again.
"Danny said you were looking forward to our 'date'?" ventured Dave, feeling safe enough to put it that way considering the man was pretty much tied to his hospital bed. Hopefully it would prevent him from getting out of it to beat the crap out of him should he take offense.
Steve's eyes widened. "Oh, yeah . . . about that . . . "
"Don't worry," interrupted the Governor's aide, "I know it's not a date. I'm very much aware you don't play for my team." he assured the commander.
McGarrett just stared at him quizzically for a moment before beginning to laugh so hard the bed began to shake; the guffaw ending abruptly with a groan as he scrunched his face and reached down to put his hand on his bandaged thigh.
"You okay?" asked Matsui worriedly, not just because of the indication the man was in pain.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." replied Steve, taking a deep breath before looking up again.
"What's so funny?" asked Dave curiously
"What's funny is Danny had me believing you thought our meeting at the gun range really was a date."
"He did what!"
"Danny likes to . . . , (Steve's fuzzy mind thought of any number of metaphors he could use to describe his partner's bent for manipulation: 'fuck with me', 'dick around', etc.), but for the moment he decided on "yank my chain sometimes." He could feel his face getting warm. Oh God, I hope I'm not blushing, thought the SEAL detachedly
"There was never any misunderstanding on my part, I assure you. Danny told me you have a girlfriend who would not be very happy with me if I even entertained the thought of . . . you know."
Almost automatically replying 'she's not my girlfriend', Steve thought better of it. He didn't want to confuse the issue.
"I have to admit he had me going with this one. Thanks for letting me know I've been played."
"Your partner is diabolical." chuckled Dave, noticing the commander's complexion may have taken on a bit more color in the last couple of minutes. A vast improvement over the nearly paper white pallor evident when he'd first walked into the room.
"Yes and . . . hey, you wanna help me get even?" smiled the man in the bed.
"Of course." Dave Matsui smiled back. How could he not?
…
Just a short while ago:
It was like trying to drive with a pack of wolves in the car! How he even made it back to his house he didn't know. He'd almost flattened several pedestrians on the way as he fought off the bloodthirsty monster. Fiercely batting at the snarling creature; as the little body rebounded off the dash; he somehow managed to grab it by its scruff and opened the door to roughly fling it out of the car. The window was now almost all the way up and he slammed the door in time to prevent the crazed feline from jumping back in and having another go at him. It thudded against the glass; just barely managing not to get its paw caught in the last open inch before it whirred completely shut.
The cat leaped against the glass twice more before jumping onto the hood to glare at him through the windshield. The terrified man froze as blood dripped from his forehead to trail behind his eyeglasses, making him blink to clear his vision. The eyes staring back at him were yellow; pupils dilated to black pools of evil. It was like looking into the eyes of Beelzebub himself.
He realized he was trapped! He'd never make it to his front door without being killed and probably eaten. The animal was just waiting for him to emerge so it could finish him off. Maybe he could make it think he was getting out of the car on the driver's side so he could scramble out the passenger side before the terrifying creature could sink its teeth into him again.
Making the brave decision, he popped open the door. The cat leaped to the ground on that side of the car. He quickly slammed it shut and maneuvered across the seat. Grasping the passenger door handle he held his breath as he pushed it open.
He'd have to run like the devil was on his tail . . . he was.
….
The present:
They had a pleasant visit. Steve seemed to become more awake as they talked. He asked to borrow Dave's phone so that he could contact Danny. He said he was worried about his cat.
A straight guy with a cat . . . that's so sweet, thought Dave as he handed his phone to the man in the bed.
Danny didn't pick-up so all Steve could do was leave a message, "Hey D. I assume you're out detecting right now and that's why you're not picking up. I just want to make sure Cujo's okay. I vaguely remember him chasing the guy who attacked me. I know you'd have let me know if something was wrong so I'm only a little worried. Call me at the hospital when you can."
He handed Dave's phone back to him and smiled sheepishly. "Had to check on Cujo. He took off after the guy who put me in the hospital . . . well, actually, my mom's dishes put me in the hospital . . . and a big-ass china cabinet and . . . uhh . . . I'm rambling aren't I?"
Dave chuckled at the flustered man, "Oh, I've met Cujo. Quite a pet you've got there."
"He's not really my pet. He's Five-0's mascot and rodent control officer." said Steve as if he believed it himself.
"Uh huh." smiled Dave, noting the beginning of a blush on the pale cheeks before clearing his throat and changing the subject.
Steve listened as Dave told him that after a week, Denning's temp bodyguard still hadn't engendered all that much faith in his ability to keep his boss safe.
"Thanks for agreeing to give me some pointers on firearm use Commander."
"Just call me Steve." responded McGarrett as he shifted in bed trying to get more comfortable. He'd spotted the slight bump under the fabric of the aide's expensively tailored jacket and gesturing toward the man standing beside the bed blurted, "Let's see what kind of weapon you have there." Could that be taken as a double entendre? he thought belatedly, No, we've already established he's not interested in me, right? Damned Bambi! Damned drugs!
Dave reached into his jacket and pulled out a Glock 26 and held it out butt first toward the man in the bed. Should I even be handing a gun to a guy who's obviously looped on painkillers? he thought then realized he hadn't that much need for concern as McGarrett took the gun and smoothly and efficiently checked to see if the safety was on, the clip was empty, and then worked the slide to make sure there wasn't a round in the chamber.
"Nice." said McGarrett checking the action as though it was second nature . . . it was.
"Glad you think so. It's the one the store owner recommended when I told him what it was needed for."
"You picked a good one." said McGarrett, seeming much more focused than earlier. "It's an easily concealable 9mm. This will definitely do the job."
"Don't know much about handguns. Used to go hunting with my dad when I was a kid so I'm more familiar with rifles." said Matsui taking a chair beside the bed.
"What did you hunt?" asked Steve, ignoring the fierce ache in his thigh as he sat up a bit to more closely inspect the gleaming handgun.
"Mostly boar."
"I take it you've grown up on the islands?" asked Steve, handing back the Glock to its new owner.
"Yeah, my dad was stationed at Pearl. I'm a Navy brat, third generation."
Steve raised his eyebrows, "Me too. Where did you serve?"
"I was stationed in San Diego for a while then went on a wonderful, fun-filled cruise to Iraq courtesy of Uncle Sam."
"Wow, small world. We could have actually run across each other some time. What was your specialty? If you don't mind me asking?"
"EOD tech."
"You guys saved a lot of lives. I'm sure you saved mine and my men's several times over." said Steve duly impressed with the revelation.
"Not really as exciting as being a SEAL." (Or as sexy), thought Dave, "We didn't get to chase Bin Laden or anything."
"Yeah, well, sometimes, even here in Hawaii, there's a little too much excitement according to Danny. He's always complaining about doing 'SEAL stuff' even though he's never been to SEAL school as he calls it. He bitches a lot but he's never failed to back me up - whatever the odds. Danny may not be the tallest guy on the island but the man's a total badass." smiled Steve
"You people in Five-0 are all plenty badass." assured Dave, standing to get the plastic pitcher McGarrett was straining to grab on the rolling tray just out of reach. He poured some ice water into the plastic tumbler and handed it to the patient who took it gratefully.
Taking a sip, McGarrett continued, "Danny's pretty much fearless . . . about everything actually. The best partner a guy could have . . . uhh, by partner . . . I mean . . . "
"I thought we'd already covered that?" smiled Matsui, realizing the commander was wasted and may be having memory lapses.
"Oh . . . yeah . . . sorry."
After another awkward pause, Steve asked, "So, Dave, what made you decide the Navy wasn't your calling?"
"D.A.D.T. was putting a serious crimp in my psyche if not my love life and I thought I'd found someone worth a career change so I resigned and made a life here - my dream come true but that, uhh, turned out not to be the case I'm afraid."
"Sorry to hear that." said Steve sympathetically, "You and Danny may have something in common there. He's been battling it out with his ex since before he even came to the islands. Had you made it legal?"
"Couldn't marry in Hawaii at the time but it's a good thing we couldn't. Divorces can be messy I hear."
"Yeah, Danny's learned that the hard way. Been fighting over shared custody of Gracie since forever. It's what brought him to Hawaii."
"A daughter?"
"Yeah, she's wonderful."
Matsui smiled to himself. Apparently, the man who had the reputation of speaking as few words as possible became quite chatty with a snootful of the right kind of meds. They talked on for another half-hour or so until the hazel-blue eyes began to droop.
"Steve, looks like you need to get some sleep. I'll call you about 'the plan' tomorrow and we'll work out the details."
"Mmkay, thanks for the visit . . . and the uhh plant . . . 'snice . . . "
The governor's aide crept quietly from the room as Steve's eyes closed and he began to softly snore. Soo cute.
…
It was too late. His broken eyeglasses lay twenty feet away on the asphalt. His broken body lay beneath the yellow plastic sheet in front of them. Max was already on scene and industriously going about his investigation as several other technicians measured distances and entered notes into their tablets.
Nancy, the Animal Control officer, had just finished checking over the dazed cat that lay on a towel on the grassy parkway.
"Well, as far as I can tell there's nothing broken." she said as she finished establishing a line for the bag of saline she handed to Danny so she could complete taping the port securely onto the cat's foreleg.
"Why's he so quiet and creepily docile?" asked Danny worriedly as the usually fractious feline let the animal control officer go about her business with nary a squawk of protest, his eyes open but only lazily noting what she was doing.
"Shock. Animals get quiet and docile, even wild animals, when they're in shock. We have to get him to a vet to get him checked out thoroughly. He could have internal damage we're not aware of. His gums are pretty pale."
"The fact he even let you look in his mouth is proof that something's wrong with him. Normally you couldn't do that without losing a hand." said Danny, running his own hand through his newly shellacked hair in worry, (though he'd never in a million years admit he was seriously concerned about his perpetual adversary).
"You want to transport him?" asked Nancy, "I can only take him to back to the shelter and then get a volunteer vet to come out to look at him. It would be a lot faster if you could take him to the doc yourself – if he has one."
"There's no kitty ambulances right?" asked Danny, still not positive that having Cujo in a car without his partner along with him was a good idea; the cat half-conscious or not.
Nancy just gave him the same look Steve usually gave him when he considered the statement just uttered wasn't worth a comment or just plain fucking stupid.
"Do you know who his regular vet is?" she asked as she began putting her equipment back into the big red plastic box beside her.
"Yeah, she's on Beretania near H.Q. Her name's Pat Charteris."
"Pat's a great vet. She's actually one of our volunteers along with her husband Kurt. I'd get him there right away. Call ahead so they'll be ready for him. I've got the line going and we're getting fluids into him. He was a little dehydrated."
Wondering how Cujo could be dehydrated after probably nearly drowning in a storm that was almost biblical, he bent down to carefully pick up the little cat. Cradling him in his arms as Nancy tucked the bag of solution into the towel with him, he made his way to one of the black and whites parked nearby.
"We need a ride to the vet clinic on South Beretania." he barked to the cop standing near it. Without even raising an eyebrow, Miko Kiliona immediately pulled open the back door of the squad and automatically put his hand on top of the detective's head to keep it from bumping on the door frame as the man carrying the little bundle bent to enter the vehicle.
"Use your lights, Miko." said Danny, then as he glanced down at the limp little body cradled in his arms added, "and your siren." The yellow eyes had drifted shut.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
After this one, may not have to resort to timeline notations to make up for the booboos in the last couple of chapters. I know it was confusing. Thanks for having the patience to wade through it.
Would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this chapter.