Chapter 4 "Answers And Questions"
A/N: *HUGS* for all the reviews and favorites and followings, I really can't believe it! Thank you sooo much!
Okay, this chapter has more info and finally DANNY! At the end, do NOT skip to it. Promise! Not that I'll know….
The pace is picking up. I hope you like this chapter! I LOVE all your reviews!
Disclaimer: I still don't own Hawaii Five-0. I don't even own a Danny standee, tho I'm considering that last one. And a Steve one too.
Chapter 4 "Answers And Questions"
There were massive shows of relief when Max made his pronouncement that he did not believe the charred body was in fact Danny. Chin hugged Abby, gently but fiercely at the same time, and she burrowed her head into his chest while she let tears slip down her cheeks, until she smiled brightly, and sought to bring herself under control. She still had a job to do, and so did Chin and everyone else.
Chin was tactile, and he needed to touch everyone. He put one hand on Max's shoulder, another on Duke's, and nodded. "Alright. That is great news. But we have a lot more to do." He patted their shoulders, then returned to professionalism. "Max, how did you arrive at your preliminary conclusion?"
Max's smile shifted too. He was back in his world as Medical Examiner more than friend. "It was surprisingly easy, and yet complicated at the same time. Quite obviously, a person or persons has tried to make us believe it is Danny's ... excuse me, professionalism requires me toward formality at the moment... Detective Williams' body. This is not the easiest task, as you can well imagine. The body type, height, weight, proportions - all had to be within close approximation of his specific parameters. Also, quite obviously, whoever did this would know that DNA testing, and any reputable autopsy would confirm that this is not who we are supposed to think it is. For instance, Detective Williams has relatively short limbs compared to the length of his torso. His dental records, fingerprints, medical records are readily available to us. Yet, we are prevented from using fingerprints and a physical identification because the corpse has been mutilated to make this difficult. I speak of course of the smashed in face, and the fire, which means we cannot use fingerprints or hair, facial features, clothing, or any visual clues to ascertain identity. The smashed face, for instance, is not consistent with injuries sustained in this type of car crash. One would expect much more than the face to be damaged, and the face not as severely. It is my theory that -"
Chin was beginning to feel queasy, so he stopped Max. "Yes, and we will get into this at great length later, but could you cut to how you figured out it isn't Danny? You said it was relatively easy."
Max looked briefly startled, and apologized for getting lost in minutia. "My apologies, gentlemen and lady." He reached into one of the very stained coverall pockets and pulled out an evidence bag. In it was a charred but still golden watch, quite large, with a wind-up case, the hands stopped at 5:33 pm. The little date window held the number 20, yesterday's date. "Do any of you ever recall Detective Williams wearing a wristwatch, at work or in his off hours?"
Chin, Abby and Duke all peered at the evidence bag, which Chin took in his hand and studied as if it was a gift directly from God. "Six years ago, when we were all getting to know each other's idiosyncrasies, Steve asked Danny why he never wore a watch, and Danny said that, as a baby, Grace broke his watches as fast as he could replace them, so he stopped. Besides, his phone, his car, his computer, the clock on the wall, and other people could all tell him the time. He hasn't worn a watch since Grace was 4."
Max nodded, pleased. "I too asked him that question three years ago, and he told me the same thing. Also, if you look at the reverse of the watch, you will notice it is not engraved to Danny Williams."
Chin flipped over the clear bag, and read the inscription in cursive: "To my husband Neil Lane, Love Lisa Lane."
Chin nodded and handed the evidence bag back to Max, who slipped it back into his pocket as Duke was taking notes. "Max," said Chin, "run that watch through every test you have after you finish the autopsy on whomever that is. Duke, see what you can find on Neil and Lisa Lane. We need photos. Hell, we need everything. Abby and I will head to Tripler, to fill in Steve and Kono."
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Chin drove like Steve McGarrett, lights flashing and siren shrieking, as they headed for Tripler Army Medical Center. Abby had called Kono on the way, but they were prevented from using the speakerphone feature because the siren was too loud. However, it was a trade-off: it would get them to Tripler a few minutes faster if they used it. When they had told Kono about the body not being Danny's, she had shrieked with joy! Luckily, she had gone down to the cafeteria for a quick snack, being too keyed up to eat before, so the number of people she had to apologize afterwards to was small. Before she hung up, she said she was going to call Adam.
As it was, Chin and Abby arrived a little before 5:30 am, and found themselves talking to Steve, Kono, and Steve's doctor, Isaac Cornett. Kono had not yet told Steve about Danny.
Steve was more alert, which is not quite the same thing as saying he was alert. He was fighting drowsiness, but he looked much better than he had when they had last seen him, even if he was wearing a blue printed hospital gown and dark blue pajama pants. He was clean and dry, for starters. His injuries had been tended. His right arm was in a plaster cast from just below his arm pit to just over the knuckles of his hand. His head was bandaged also on the right side, and he had scratches and bruises probably in a lot more places than they could see. No stitches, though, other than the ones on the gash on his head. He was being readied to be moved to a room, where he would be kept for observation overnight.
"Nice to see you all! So now will you tell me what the hell is going on with Danny?" demanded Steve, sounding like he was peeved and on the verge of a rant.
Chin, Kono and Abby were shoulder to shoulder, to take up as little room as possible while Dr. Cornett fussed with syringes and bottles of pills and liquids. Chin turned on his placating voice. "Steve, we will tell you, but we need some information from you first."
"What do you need?"
"What is the last thing you remember before … just tell us the last thing you remember."
"You three barging in here with no Danny."
"No, no, Steve, before that. Before you were brought here. We need to know, so we know how much to tell you." Chin was still in placation mode.
Steve calmed down, a little. "I sortof remember a helicopter ride."
"And before that?"
Steve was now vexed, and getting worried. "You keep asking me that! Danny and I were at his house, and we walked Rachel to her car because she wanted to show us this big fluffy bear she got for Charlie, it's seriously huge, and then she drove away to go to the airport to get Stan from a business trip. And we went inside, and then it all goes blank. Not like … not like an attack blank, but just like the tape breaks and the screen goes dark. I just can't remember anything else!"
"Do you remember driving Danny's car?"
Steve sighed. "No. And now I'm here, and you won't tell me about Danny." He looked pleading. "I'm imagining the worst, guys. You gotta tell me something!"
Chin looked over at the tall doctor, who seemed to intuit the question of whether or not Steve could handle something that was definitely not all good news, but not the worst news, either. He nodded, unblinking, making no secret of the fact that he too was listening closely. After all, since the liver transplant, he was more Danny's doctor than he was Steve's.
"Okay." Chin sat down on the edge of the bed, and in a gentle voice told Steve everything that had happened, stressing that the body was NOT Danny's, but that they still had no idea where he was. "And you were found there. We think you were thrown from the car."
"Was I driving it?"
"We haven't gotten the forensics report back yet, it's a little early. I'm guessing no, but it was supposed to look like you were. If you were drugged, you were put in the car, and somehow got thrown from it."
"So someone tried to kill me, and make it look like Danny is dead." Steve's voice held a slight tremble, as if he was struggling to keep his emotions under control."
"Yeah."
"Why? Why didn't they just kill me outright?"
"We don't know, Steve. Maybe they wanted you dead, but wanted Danny alive."
"I don't feel reassured by that. What do they want with him?" Steve, more alert than before, turned sharply to Dr. Cornett. "How long do I have to stay here?"
"Twelve hours," he answered, hazel eyes sympathetic but unwavering.
"I want to set up a computer in my room, and use my phone."
Cornett bargained back. "Okay, provided you sleep –or at least rest- for 6 continuous hours. I will give your team free access to you."
"Deal. Thanks, Doc." He looked at his task force. Minus one. "We have to find him."
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Danny was hearing the strangest sound. He had awakened on his stomach, his face pillowed on his left forearm, in a room lit strangely. Blues, reds, greens, yellows, whites, all mixed up. Something small and mobile was standing on four … paws … on his shoulders, using one paw to pat his head. It felt very strange. The sound was sometimes a purr, sometimes a squeaky meow. "Dreaming," he mumbled. "About a cat." He felt ill, and unutterably sleepy. He felt the …kitten?... curl up on the back of his neck, and they both fell asleep.
It was minutes or hours later that he awakened again. The kitten was still there, batting a small paw at his nose. "What?" he asked the Universe, and pushed himself up, trying to work the wooziness out of his head. Automatically he picked up the kitten, which was white with a few dilute markings of peach and almost tan. The room was darker now, the colored lights dimmer. But he could see that in his hand he held a glow stick, like the kind used at parties, or by survivalists for emergency light. He bent it and shook it, and it lit up white. The part of him that knew about glow sticks realized it was the 12-hour version.
He was facing a corner, made of metal. Rusty metal. So was the floor. Odd. He turned around, still holding the glow stick and the kitten in different hands, and his eyes grew wide in instant panic.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The word ripped out of him and echoed and echoed and mocked him until he hid his head in his drawn up knees, holding the kitten tight as he repeated the word in a whimper, over and over again, his eyes shut, praying to wake up from this nightmare.