I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: endless thanks for all the fantastic comments and generous reviews. My thanks to CinderH, KQ and the 'enabler', TheDogo for such expert beta and help on this story from start to finish.
Chapter Eight
Danny almost non-emotionally gave partial consideration as to precisely why he might be bedridden. Of course he knew he'd been shot; what was evading him was the why and how. These things he thought he should know but was woefully unable to define. A dull ache persistently drilled into the base of his skull with each shallow inhale which managed to pull on his tender chest wall. These sickly physical feelings made thinking too hard and even painful. However, a certain more wakeful portion of his being seemed to anticipate waking in a hospital. Of that dim recognition, Danny incorporated a glimmer of amusement with himself which faded just as quickly. That same tiny segment teased an odd unsettling troubling feeling of something being off with his immediate universe. It was a more emotional sense of wrongness in which he was indeed missing something of great importance.
Yet Steve was there. And Danny's own feeble request about Grace was also granted. So Grace was also present in the hospital and obviously fine, however she was mysteriously part of the equation. The murky thoughts were incomplete at best and in spite of that, almost enough to quiet some of the anxiety lurking deeply in his bones. These confusing mixed messages did nothing to entirely calm a mind blurred by injury and drugs though, and he warred internally in an attempt to dredge up the reasons behind uneasy feelings. For all of that effort, Danny was unable to truly conquer his wayward hold on concentration. Flitting from vague thought to a blurry impression, he was more dreaming without an actual working sense of time or space.
"Danny," Steve's whisper cracked quietly through his drowsy reverie of half musings. The gentle nudge on his shoulder roused him even more until he stared stupidly for a moment at the grinning face.
"Hmm? What?" The soft questioning exhale of sound was incredibly soft and Steve chuffed a knowingly amused noise before replying. His partner had dozed off and nearly forgotten the promise of a visit.
"Grace. Grace is here to see you." As one side of the hospital bed's rail was lowered, Danny's expression changed proving he remembered that at least.
"Hey … Monkey," clearing his throat wearily and stumbling over her fond nickname, Danny grimaced as a scratchy cough threatened his breathing. He nodded once with a soundless exhale when his own daughter leveled a critical eye to remind him of what the doctor had espoused.
"You aren't supposed to talk, Danno!" Grace's voice was a sweet counterpoint to Steve's deeper bass tones and Danny was wholly unable to prevent the one-sided quirk from becoming a smile.
"Yeah." Unconsciously, Danny responded by forcing out another short spurt of air. Decidedly, that too was a mistake as Grace rolled her eyes towards the ceiling in despair. But her reaction left him grinning.
"Danno! Shhh!" She scolded him then, while simultaneously and very carefully hoisting herself onto the mattress. His subsequent attempt at communicating was also thwarted as a final and very feeble huffed sound of acknowledgement drew on damaged internal tissues. Blearily, Danny flopped a hand to signal defeat before searching out Grace's fingers.
"Shhh! Uncle Steve says that we can only stay for a few minutes." She was studying him as carefully as he was her and behind the two, Steve inhaled the scene while standing sentry. Things were more happily complete and inch by obstinate inch, the rest of his own tension was put to rest. As Steve watched, from his thumb first, Grace was running her fingers over each of Danny's knuckles and apparently mentally counting to five. At the end of his hand, she would return to the thumb seemingly absorbed in just being able to finally see her father.
"Doctor Webber is really nice. Uncle Chin didn't think we'd be able to see you. He didn't think I'd be able to see you, but Doctor Webber said it was okay for just a little while." Grace paused, staring at Danny as if making sure he was fine. In silent reply to the unspoken question, Danny clumsily rubbed her arm before retrieving her nervous fingers.
One-handed once more, Grace anxiously pulled her ponytail over her shoulder to wend and tug through the worse of its tangles. Glancing towards Steve for guidance, she didn't know what to say next. Tears pricked warningly at the corners of her eyes because their weekend was now essentially ruined. Danno was hurt and sick, as was her classmate Mark, and now everything had come crashing down at a startling rate.
"Danno." Grace felt her face beginning to flush in earnest and she was useless at stopping it from happening. She had promised not to cry and was failing miserably as she felt a lone hot tear escape. As if attached to that droplet, her head began to pound in rhythm to her heartbeat and she sniffled vainly into her arm.
"Oh boy," Steve sighed inaudibly before quickly striding to the bed in order to intervene. Danny's fingers had stilled in Grace's hand while his former smile had already fled his face. Instead, his brow was beginning to furrow in deep consternation.
"It's alright, Gracie." Quickly, Steve thumbed the stray tear from Grace's face. She felt hot under his hand and was looking at him with a frightened apology lurking in her brown eyes. "It's been a really long day for you…for both of you."
"I know," Grace admitted softly, thankful for his quick thinking which was actually a statement of fact. Taking a deep breath and wincing as her head thrummed painfully, she tried to smile once more but was worried with how Danno was looking so carefully at her. Recovering from her near miss, she was watching him too and still at a loss for finding another topic of discussion, as dull as it might be. Making matters worse, Grace also knew that her five minutes were nearly up. "I'm going to stay with Uncle Steve and then we can come back tomorrow to see you."
There was a brief silence as they sat quietly together, one watching the other. It was Grace who noticed the subtle change first, glancing once to Steve in askance.
"Danno?" She was about to ask if he was tired when Danny's eyes blinked once and then twice in confusion. He suddenly didn't seem to be paying attention to her and the change was disconcerting and almost frightening. "Uncle Steve, is something wrong?"
"I think Danno needs to sleep now, Gracie." Steve was about to say more when he also realized that Danny wasn't truly looking at Grace's face. His attention had diverted to the worn t-shirt. The once white beach cleanup volunteer t-shirt now stained by sand, saltwater and tears. And even if his partner couldn't exactly read the half-moon inscription by that point, he certainly seemed to be finding a meaning in the orange logo. The look of confusion intensified as his partner virtually drilled a hole through the material in deep thought, willing his brain to remember.
"Hey, Danny." To break the unhealthy spell, Steve motioned Grace from the bed to interpose himself once more. For a moment, nothing happened and Steve scowled until his partner blinked four and then five times to finally shake himself back to the present to stare mutely up into his face.
"Time's up and Grace has to say goodnight. Chin's outside and he'll watch Grace so I can come back." It was almost rude to not answer the imploring expression partly concealed by oxygen mask and haloed by a pale complexion. Steve knew that he'd have to disobey Webber's orders, but not with Grace present.
"Hey, listen," soothingly, he bent over the bed and took Danny's arm to communicate that purposeful message. "Stop. Don't think so hard. Let me get Grace settled with Chin for a few minutes and I'll be back to explain a few things."
Steve waited meaningfully for his intent to sink in, relieved when Danny managed a small thumb's up signal. Despite the brooding state of alarm creeping across his face, his eyes were fluttering wildly though as physical woes battled in earnest.
"Get some rest. I'll be right back." With any luck though, his partner would be sleeping by the time he returned. If not, Steve would craftily manage just enough of the truth to quiet his partner's budding anxieties.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Eyes burning and struggling against a body-wide weakness that resided in his very bones, Danny watched Steve and Grace leave the hospital room. Then he had no choice as his eyes closed of their own accord, yet he remained stubbornly awake despite the onset of a drilling headache of pressure which leaked into his neck and upper muscles of his shoulders. It indicated a growing stress and a deep tension from feelings that were not so buried after the sight of a logo'd t-shirt. Behind closed lids, he forced his mind to think back and to remember snippets of conversations and abstract colors. He grimaced at one in particular which came with an annoying, heavily made-up female face rimmed in darkly curled hair.
"…today would be perfect. Don't you think?" The distasteful image faded as quickly as it had come. Barely a rustle of a leaf in the wind to be replaced entirely by blue, a flash of stark white and glimmering sunshine.
Grace sitting, legs splayed and looking on in shock after she had called to him. His face scrunched even more as he remembered one word perhaps a little too clearly.
"Gun," whispered dangerously in his ear and wholly in his daughter's voice. "Danno, they found a gun. A real gun."
The reverberating memory of sound slammed into his mind's eye accompanied by the sunlit silhouette of a small body falling. The sound was all too familiar and he recognized it instantly without needing to actually think. He knew it was a gunshot. In direct real-time response, Danny's body tensed abruptly in the bed enough for him to feel the tender lump on the back of his head. He definitely felt the chest tube and other restrictive unpleasant catheters and lines as his eyes sprung open. It was an unfortunate reminder not to move as he was pulled by an intense memory.
There had been a gun and he'd been shot. It was why he was in the hospital. But something else, too. Grace had been there; along with two boys. One was named Mark, of that he was now certain. What had happened had occurred at the beach ... during the school cleanup event. Orange t-shirts ... just like the one his daughter was still wearing.
"Two … boys." He spoke it aloud and to no one at all while staring almost blindly up at the ceiling. "Two?" Yet, as muffled as his voice was, it was clearly understandable. Though based on his tone, he clearly doubted himself. "Maybe ... two."
"Yeah, there were two boys. But you got one to safety before things went a bit sideways. It was an accident, Danno." Steve's careful confirmation came from his left shoulder and Danny turned his head in surprise. Lost in a sleepy daze and then in fractured memories, he hadn't realized Steve had returned so quickly. Even through badly blurred vision, Danny swore that Steve was disappointed to find him awake. Displeased even that he tried to talk against doctor's orders and nearly distressed that he'd remembered that one very critical point.
"Is he … dead?" Each syllable was carefully pushed out on shallow exhales. The result was an unfortunate dry cough which left Danny grimacing and his face pinched in discomfort.
"No. No, but he's hurt pretty bad." Steve's tone bordered a certain severity which he clarified the reason for in case Danny had forgotten another very important and more recent fact. Tapping his own lips with one finger, Steve shook his head in reprimand. "Stop talking like Webber said and I'll fill you in. Then my friend, you are going to sleep and I'm taking Grace to my place to do exactly the same thing."
If he hadn't seen Grace with his very own eyes, Danny never would have relaxed after hearing the brief confirming updates. His silent but very thankful reply was communicated by a short nod, followed then with an obedient smile. Things might be bad, but they were under control and Grace was in good hands. The only person who would know this would be Steve and Danny watched as the stiffly watchful posture changed, shifted and morphed entirely into something less intense.
"I'm glad to have her. You know that." Smiling in return, Steve leaned comfortably on the bed rail after lifting it to a proper height. He watched Danny closely while explaining that it was Chin who had been tasked as the initial liaison between HPD, distraught parents and frightened children. Weeding out the exaggerated from the more valid accounts, he and HPD had settled on two credible witnesses. Selecting particular details and editing others, Steve briefly recounted what he'd subsequently been told.
"According to the two closest adults, the weapon went off as Mark lost his balance on the rocks. But when he fell, he went off completely backwards and hit his head." Steve slowed his pace as Danny winced uncomfortably. Not wanting to continue and refusing to ask a single question of his partner, Steve sighed heavily before taking over to share just enough of the remaining information as shared by the best witnesses. "He fractured his skull and is going to be in the ICU for a few days. His parents are here and he's resting comfortably just a few doors down."
It was clear that Danny didn't remember his own perspective of the particulars; not quite yet and it bothered him. Eyes blinked and then squinted deeply in vain as he fought the black hole which swallowed those memories in their entirety.
"Danny, stop." Steve sighed as Danny's left hand idly tossed a few inches off the bed. "Stop. It's not a big deal." Steve shook his head in awe as his partner fought a sluggish mind which seemed to come to a screeching halt well before the near tragic final events played out. Danny was frustrated and his breathing had altered with the attempts; pulling on his fresh wound and aggravating its ache. In terms of follow up work, forensics would need a few days or up to even a few weeks to determine where the gun might have come from and if it had ever been used in a crime. These were procedural things of which Danny would innately know and so Steve paused again.
"That's enough. If I have to order you to stop thinking, I will," growling under his breath, Steve was insistent. The dry warning along with a sternly raised finger managed to distract Danny enough, too. Long enough for him to give in with an agreeable murmur of sound, especially after his daughter's welfare was brought into the mix. "Danny, you need to rest now. I need to get Grace home. She's exhausted and should eat something better than hospital food."
There was really nothing of value left to discuss and intentionally, Steve was skipping over those larger facts affecting Grace. She had witnessed the entire exchange from start to finish. And despite being protected by Duke Lukela and as evidenced by her headache, she had seen and heard enough to be frightened.
"Do you need anything?" The question indicated an official end to the one-sided conversation. But it was voiced with a genuine concern because the squint of Danny's eyes was so blatantly obvious. Alarmed by a growing array of physical changes, Steve was already reaching for the call button.
In short, his partner was in pain.
"Headache. Chest." Just loud enough to combat the obtrusive oxygen mask and not pull too badly on his chest, Danny disobeyed the enforced no talking rule one final time. He could literally feel the tight stitches holding the chest tube from inadvertent movement. Then there was the ache of his right lung with each shallow inhale he was forced to take because a deeper breath was simply too painful.
Danny closed his eyes tiredly, yet his brow remained tensely furrowed. The concussive headache had worsened and he swallowed convulsively against a new rising tide of nausea. Of all things, that was now the worst because he couldn't fathom vomiting in his condition. Unable to help himself as a wave of utter exhaustion swept over him, he murmured plaintively just one last time as sweat broke out across his forehead. "Sick."
"It's covered, Danno." He knew then that Steve had either rung the station or was even now leaving the room to get someone's undivided attention; maybe even both things were taking place simultaneously. Regardless of what his friend had done, only moments later the activity increased around the bed. And Danny, too sick to care and having faith that his daughter was indeed in the most excellent of hands, once more simply allowed those who were caring for him to do their job.
~ to be continued ~