Chapter 37 "Not As Planned"
A/N: (11 January 2017) Thank you all for the reviews and kind words! Even the critiques. Don't ever feel shy about letting me know if you think I've gone astray or gotten my facts messed up (except cut me a tiny bit of slack where medical things are concerned, because I did make up a couple drugs in this chapter.) Thank you especially to Elise Deschat for medical help! You have been very kind!
So, this is essentially a two-for-one. It's much more like two chapters, but the place where they separated would have made for a shortie followed by a really longie, so I just kept writing. I hope you like it!
You would have had this 7 hours ago, but I spoke to someone about the way it was going, and the reaction was aghast, so I really thought I needed to change something, which is why this went so long. I've been writing non-stop since the aghast. It is now not aghasting anymore, so that's good. I was seeing 36 WHAAAAATTTT? reviews, and feeling a bit er, uncertain.
(Special gift enclosed to Nancy. You'll know it when you read it. :D )
CBS owns Hawaii Five-0, I only own my plot and the OCs.
Chapter 37 "Not As Planned"
(Saturday, Christmas Eve, 2016, 6 p.m.)
It had been such a gentle awakening, only to realize quickly what was going on between Steve and Dr. Cornett. Danny felt like this was a gift, a beautiful gift, to watch those two men negotiate the knot that was inherent in figuring out if they were going to come to a happy place when it came to Steve being allowed to marry Hannah. It startled Danny to know that Steve and Hannah – whom Steve had not even met before the box – were now wholeheartedly exchanging lip gloss and probably a whole lot more, if Danny knew Steve the way he knew him. And yet the vibe he was getting was that Steve was holding back with Hannah, probably because they simply hadn't had time to carry things into forbidden territory.
Steve would have to behave now, because Danny happened to know that Dr. Cornett did always carry a scalpel, in a case, and would not hesitate to 'soprano' Steve if he got carried away with Hannah before he was allowed to. Danny and Dr. Cornett had fatherhood in common, and Danny knew someday he would have a conversation with a young man about Grace, and he hoped he handled it with the same aplomb his doctor had shown Steve.
Interesting to watch Steve call his prospective father-in-law "Sir" however many times he had. It was refreshing. Danny could not stop smiling.
Steve smiled the most relieved, happy smile possible when he asked if he could be his Best Man, which made Danny smile even bigger, while also sending a bright ray of sunshine and a wink to his doc. He tried to give him the 'thumbs up' signal, too, only to realize his thumb of choice was currently feeling very numb and was swathed in thick bandages, sticking out like a permanent hitchhiker, resting on a fluffy pillow. He wondered inanely where in a hospital they had come up with a fluffy pillow.
"It is all still in there, right, doc?" he asked, which made Cornett laugh gleefully.
"The surgery went very well. And you woke up too soon. Can you manage a good nap before the party? It's at 7:30, in this room, and I need to check you over before you get that nap, just to be sure you are up for it."
"K. I'm sleepy. And thank you, Doc. Is it okay if I talk with Steve while you do your worst? He still hasn't answered my question."
"You bet," said the doc, who happily began recording readings.
Steve was smiling down at Danny, reaching out to gently touch his arm above the bandages. "I can't think of anyone else I'd choose to be my Best Man. You're my partner," he said, and blushed again. "You aren't mad that Hannah and I, that is – when you were in that, uh, missing, and now I'm asking her father if I can marry her?" Steve's eyes were genuinely concerned. "It was love at first sight, Danny."
Danny's pale blue eyes turned pensive. "I'm glad," he said, after pausing to consider such a thing. Rachel's face on their wedding day flashed in his mind, and he shoved the image away, because she was not spoiling his happiness for Steve and Hannah. "Speaking of Hannah, is she still waiting outside? I'd like to meet her properly now that you are, uh, pre-engaged. Oh, before you bring her in, can you tell me quickly about my kids and kitten? When can I see them again?"
"7:30 is looking good, Danny," said Doc Cornett.
"Grace is doing something for you for Christmas, and Charlie is taking a nap, and Angel is sleeping on Becca's lap. They are all coming tonight," replied Steve.
"On Becca's lap, huh? That is one … lucky … kitten," mused Danny wistfully, causing the Doc to turn away to hide his huge grin.
Steve's eyes lit up. So Danny was noticing Becca the right way! He suddenly had a mental image of the two of them walking down the aisle, at the same time and place he and Hannah walked down the aisle. A double wedding. Brothers in law, and brothers-in-law! He asked, "You still have that morning coat thing you wore when the Queen gave you that medal?"
Danny was startled by the non sequitur. "Of course, you goof! Not every day someone has to get all duded up to be honored by the Queen! Why?"
"Goof. Best Man suit! Duh!"
"Oh! You gonna go that formal? Steve, your dress blues are very fetching, I'm quite sure, to any woman, but that morning coat suit thing is gonna outshine you something awful! Besides, brides pick that stuff. Please God don't put me in a bright pineapple and macaw Hawaiian shirt, 6 poofy leis, and flip flops?"
"They aren't engaged yet," reminded Doc Cornett as he wrote down numbers and pulled out his stethoscope to listen to Danny's breathing. "And Hannah is classier than that. I hope."
Steve grinned at the image of Danny dressed like that. "I could go with that," he quipped, then went to the door and ushered in Hannah, who slipped around to Steve's left side so she could squeeze his hand.
"Hi, Stiff," she said to Steve, and gave him a quick kiss, before turning to Danny. "And I am so glad to meet you! Becca talks about you a lot," she practically sang, because she had one of those voices that naturally sound like music.
Danny had heard Hannah call Steve 'Stiff', and hastily glanced at Dr. Cornett, who was grinning again, but not reaching for his scalpel. Okay, he'd ask Steve later about the nickname. "I bet Steve has barely said a word about me," he smiled, but in a very friendly way. "Which is good, because you two had uh better things to, er, you look lovely, by the way, and hang it all, you two look wonderful together. I'm so happy for you both! Give the Best Man a chaste kiss, since I can't come to you."
Dr. Cornett's voice floated out, "They aren't engaged yet," but he sounded happy.
Hannah laughed and gave Danny the requested kiss. "Formalities. Besides, he isn't in surgery for low torso wounds, so that means things went well!"
"Hannah!" said three shocked men.
Her giggle sounded like a bliss-inducing delicate piano arpeggio and she buried her head in Steve's left side.
Danny grinned. "I like her, Steve."
"As long as you like Becca more," said Steve and Dr. Cornett, as if they had practiced their unison for an hour, then looked at each other, startled anew, because they realized each was thinking the same thing about Danny and Becca.
H50 H50 H50
With a tiny dose of sedative, Danny had fallen back to sleep, to be rested enough for the rigors of even a small Christmas gathering. Dr. Cornett had ushered Hannah and Steve out into the hall, then apologetically sent Hannah to call and find out if David and family were safely picked up from the airport, with general news on how everyone was doing. He needed to talk to Steve in private.
The hug the doctor gave his daughter was one that fully expressed that he loved her and knew she would not be his much longer. She was in love with a good man. Her hug expressed silently but eloquently that she loved her father, and thanked him for raising her so well, and allowing her to know true love when she found it. Novels and songs were shared in those long seconds before Hannah kissed her father on the cheek, and said, simply, "I love you, Dad."
Steve had looked on, feeling like an intruder on such an intimate moment, but Dr. Cornett patted him on the shoulder when they watched Hannah walk down the corridor toward the elevators. The doc pulled out his handkerchief, and almost wiped his eyes with pink lip gloss before Steve stopped him, and gave him a clean Kleenex. "I promise I will take good care of her, and love her, Sir. Doc."
Dr. Cornett nodded, mopped his face, and thanked Steve for the Kleenex. "It's been such a long day, with bad news about Mo, and good news about Danny, and now about Hannah and you." He shook his head. "I'm an emotional man, Steve. I hold in a lot, but some days, I can't."
Steve listened to the shakiness at the edges of Doc Cornett's voice, and watched as he pulled himself together. Steve kept his left hand on the doc's shoulder. "If you are apologizing to me for caring, don't. It's a good trait. It makes you such a good father and doctor."
"But I can't save everyone. God knows I try, but I lose some."
Steve felt his throat go dry. "Are you talking about Danny?"
Cornett's head snapped up from his pondering of life and death. Steve held his breath. "No! No. No no. I was thinking about Mo."
Steve started to breathe again. His heartrate would take a minute to return to normal. "Five-0 will be at his funeral. He helped Danny. If Danny is up to it, I'm sure even he will want to be there."
"I think Mo might like that." Cornett huffed out a breath and ushered Steve into his office. "Now, about Danny." He was under control again, and ready to proceed.
Steve took a seat in front of the desk, and listened to Danny's doctor explain everything to him about tests, results, and potential problems.
"So far the tests are coming back the way I hoped they would. He's had this strain of pneumonia bacteria recently, and the antibiotic we are using is the one we used then, since it worked then. Now, the problem is his thumb." The Doc went on to explain about sepsis. "It's tricky. Right now, he is being given a broad spectrum antibiotic that doesn't argue with the one for the pneumonia. But, sepsis can be sneaky. It all depends on what exact bacteria or plural is causing it. We gave him a tetanus booster shot as a precaution, because that's what we do." He went on to explain that some bacteria work differently, and the tests for those, which he called 'anaerobes', take from seven to ten days to culture. "Tetanus is one of those, which is why we gave him the booster. He's up to date on that one, but sepsis is potentially so serious, we need to keep him in the hospital for a few days, and watch his organs closely. He could look and feel better in a very short time, then be suddenly overwhelmed by something that is building up, that we aren't treating, and didn't culture. So, we were very thorough. His antibiotic cocktail is strong and should work. My one fear is that he may have been exposed to an antibiotic resistant strain of something, and then we and Danny have a battle ahead of us. He isn't out of the woods yet."
Steve felt somber. "When will you know if, uh, we have to battle?"
Cornett leaned back in his comfy office chair, looking for all the world like he desperately needed the comfort right now. "When we get the cultures back, and if his organs don't go south on us. If the sepsis recedes, and he doesn't respond adversely to the antibiotics. They have side effects, and some can't tolerate them. But Danny has had most of these before." He rubbed his eyes, and showed strain. "Honestly, Steve, I feel confident that he will be okay, soon. Gut feeling. But he's been through so much, and I don't know how he will react physically or emotionally to what Stan did to him. PTSD is a probability, not simply a possibility."
Steve nodded his head. He was worried about the probability of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder rearing its head. "He's lost his … what besides his kids and friends hasn't he lost? Car, house, possessions, ex-wife and whatever Stan is, his hair. Trapped in a confined space for days. Starved. Claustrophobia and darkness. Did you see the note he wrote in that notebook in the container? He thought he would die in there."
"I saw it."
"And we don't know if Stan … did anything Mo wasn't present for. That's my fear, and I know Danny. He's going to think of that."
Steve watched the doc suck in a slow breath, then hold it so long he was just starting to be concerned, when he let it out. "Yeah," he finally said. "Unfortunately, only Stan can tell us. Because it's been too long for the tests to be conclusive. Physically, there is no evidence. But that doesn't necessarily mean there never was any."
Steve's emotions were not in synch with it being Christmas Eve, not now. "I need a drug that will make Stan tell me the truth."
Dr. Cornett nodded. "I anticipated this. To prevent an adverse reaction, I called Queens Hospital and the Halawa Infirmary to find out what drugs Stan is being given for his gunshot wounds and broken tooth and … sore toe." Steve watched the doctor open a locked drawer in his desk and pull out two thin syringes, side by side in a clear case. One syringe had an orange cap over the needle, and the other was white. "There is no true truth serum, but there are drugs to make the mind find it a lot harder to lie. 2 cc of the orange one should be enough to lower Stan's ability to fabricate. 1 cc more is okay, after 20 minutes, if 2 isn't enough. Use the same number of white cc's you used with orange to reverse the effects when you're done. Stan should sleep for an hour afterwards, and not remember you using the orange syringe, or what you talked about with it in his system. The rest of the white should be put in the orange hypo, to break up the drug in it, then shoot it down a drain. Bring those back to me and I'll get rid of them. I would hide them in your cast when you get to Halawa."
Steve took the small case and tested how it felt in his cast. It felt best when slipped into the top of it, against his bicep. "Can they test for this? I don't want to get you in trouble."
"If they know exactly what to test for, and you don't use the white syringe. The orange syringe uses a binder to combine two very innocuous drugs, neither of which would raise a red flag for being in his blood. But add the binder and you get a whole different drug. The white one quickly breaks up the binder, then itself breaks down too fast to be picked up."
"What about the binder?"
"Leaves no trace, especially since it is a binder in many drugs, and therefore likely to be present in Stan's blood at this moment. You have an hour before the party starts, if you are in a hurry."
Steve stood up, and nodded. "I am. And I thank you. Please tell Hannah I will see her at the party, and … I need a driver."
Dr. Cornett tossed Steve his keys. "Tell Hannah to use my car. It doesn't attract as much attention as hers. I'll see you and Hannah at the party."
A silent conversation went on between the two men, which ended when Steve said, quietly, "I won't involve Hannah in this."
Dr. Cornett nodded. "I know. I trust you."
H50 H50 H50
Steve and Hannah still held hands at stoplights, but they did not kiss. They were quiet, and there was some tension in the air, because of where they were going, not between them. Steve had the syringes in his cargo pants pocket, on his left calf. But as they arrived at Halawa, he slipped the unopened case under the passenger's seat. He had decided on what he would do.
Inside Halawa, Hannah waited with others who were accompanying visitors, but not themselves visiting. She kissed Steve softly on the lips, then watched him walk down the hall after having been searched by guards, as was standard procedure. His gun was taken and locked up, but nothing else was of note.
Steve calculated his actions carefully, and decided he could live with what he might do, if it came to it.
The infirmary held only one prisoner, and therefore one guard, who was familiar to Steve. That was lucky. "Camera still broken?" asked Steve, and at the guard's nod. "But the mics still work, so don't worry."
Steve asked him to keep near, anyway. "Stan doesn't like me, and I don't like him. I would rather not even be here. Man, I could sure use coffee. Bet you could too."
The guard smiled and looked at Stan, apparently asleep, and made a shhhh sound and gesture, and whispered, "I'll get us some from the break room."
"Thanks, man. I'll stay by the desk here."
While the guard was gone, Steve turned and looked at Stan's bay. He was not hooked to machines, but his wrists were cuffed to the bed rails. One cuff was considered standard protocol, if the prisoner was considered mobile. If considered belligerent, both wrists might be cuffed. Obviously, Stan had proved himself less than a model prisoner. What a surprise, thought Steve.
Stan woke up, still loopy from drugs. He saw his visitor across the room, at the guard's desk. "Steve-o!" he greeted him, slurring his word slightly. "Come on over!"
Steve moved slowly over toward Stan's bed. "You look so comfortable."
"On the good stuff, Steve-o; feeling no pain. Thought I might see you. Let me guess. You want to know if I ****** Danny, right?"
"Yup." There was no point in mincing words. He hoped to God that Stan answered that he had not further touched Danny.
Stan grinned. "I will tell you this, Steve-o." Stan enunciated as clearly as he could, while keeping his voice to almost a whisper. "I will remember my quality time alone with Danny for the rest of my life –there's nothing you can do about it. For … the … rest … of … my … life," he hissed, smiling broadly, before he began to laugh louder and louder.
Steve sighed. He had hoped it would not turn out this way. He had made up his mind what he would do if Stan answered the way he did. "I see." Steve tugged a latex glove from inside his cast, and pulled it on, He then withdrew a small case of earplugs out of his cast – standard issue for anyone who used a firearm – and a plastic evidence bag, no bigger than a Ziploc sandwich baggie, which he turned inside out.
"Wh-what are you doing?" stammered Stan, eyes wide with fear.
"Considering puking."
Stan's face contorted, and he struggled as best he could, as Steve held up one earplug and stepped one step closer to Stan's bedside. Then, unexpectedly, Stan gasped, his body became slack, his eyes turned glassy and rolled back. Steve felt for a pulse, and found none. Steve's brow furrowed, but he hastily stashed baggie, earplugs, and glove back into the cast over his bicep. "Guard!" Steve yelled. "Guard! Code blue!"
The guard came running, shoving two sloshing coffees onto his desk. He hit a button, and an alarm sounded. "What happened?" He was already listening to Stan's chest, and feeling for a pulse. "He's not breathing, no heartbeat. I'll do compressions, you do the breathing."
"He had something like a seizure, and he suddenly went limp! We were just talking!" Steve could not believe he was giving Stan the breath of life.
It was only a minute before the other medics arrived, and they took over. Steve backed away. "I don't know what happened," he kept saying.
He rode with Hannah to Tripler, of all places, following the Medic Unit, and Steve was pushed aside when Stan was taken beyond the doors to the ER. A guard from Halawa stayed near him as Steve stood there, shielding Hannah, wondering what to do. He'd been prepared to murder the man who, according to the doctors, seemed to have suffered either an aortic aneurysm or stroke, or both. Either way, he wasn't responding to anything, and surgery was being hastily planned.
Steve called Dr. Cornett, at the party, and told him what had happened. "Please tell Danny and everyone we'll be there soon as they say I can go."
Dr. Cornett came down to the ER, gave him a quick pat on the arm and Hannah a quick hug before disappearing into the ER. He was gone awhile, and Steve knew the news was bad when he returned. He came to Steve and the guard. "Stan is brain dead."
Steve's hand was filled with Hannah's small one, and she leaned against him. "He can't be."
"He is." Dr. Cornett fixed his eyes on Steve's, and Steve shook his head ever so slightly.
A Halawa medic and guard came out and took Steve's statement, and the medic patted his good arm. "Okay. Doc is thinking blood clot, stopped his heart or brain. He's dead. Surgery can't reverse brain dead. He's going to the morgue. Autopsy has to wait till Monday, since tomorrow is Christmas."
Steve nodded, still shaken by the turn of events.
"Can I go?"
"Oh sure. We didn't hear nothing weird on the recording in the infirmiry."
Dr. Cornett put an arm around Steve, and another around Hannah. "Let's go up to extremely low key party. You should be with your friends."
H50 H50 H50
Danny's eyes lit up as Steve approached him. He was wearing red Santa-suit pajamas. "Aren't these great? Grace found them for me!"
Steve wrapped Danny in a hug, and held on. "Merry Christmas, Danno."
Danny immediately realized something was very wrong. "What is it, Steve?"
"I … I should really tell you later."
"No, Steve, tell me now. You're upset." It was whispered, but still the mood Steve had brought with him was attracting attention.
He watched Steve look around at Grace, Charlie, Chin, Kono, Abby, Adam, Becca, Hannah, and back to Angel, who was sitting on Danny's shoulder, playing with the tail on his red Santa cap. He was looking the most, though, at Grace and Charlie.
Dr. Cornett distracted the others, meaning mainly the kids, so Steve could tell Danny in relative privacy.
Danny felt Angel sidle up next to his right ear, while Steve leaned down and whispered in his left, "We can't let the kids know yet, Danny. And, I'm very sorry, or, I'm not really sorry, but Stan … is dead. He had a stroke or aneurysm or something. He's dead, Danny."
Danny was stunned. Angel was immediately pawing his chin, purring and doing anything to calm him, for he realized how anxious and scared he suddenly felt. He had to get his kids through yet another loss, while he was still processing all the things he had not yet allowed himself to more than realize he would think about later. Another blow, and what a strange blow. He felt like he should be celebrating, but he wasn't.
In a weird, not-entirely-bad way, Life had struck again.
He grabbed Steve's hand and gave it a squeeze before holding Angel to his Santa Suited chest. "We'll tell the kids on Monday. Not before. Steve? That's the right thing, right?" He had never been one to ask for help before, or confirmation of his decisions, but this seemed the right time, and definitely the right person.
Steve nodded, startled to be asked. He knew Danny didn't do that often. "I think so. I'll tell the others. The Doc knows, and so does Hannah."
The detective did the math quicker than Danny could follow his own thoughts. "You were there, weren't you? And Hannah was with you, and that's where Dr. C went … he's here. Stan is here at Tripler." It made him nervous, and he didn't know why.
Dr. Cornett didn't like the numbers he was seeing on Danny's monitors, so he quietly called his wife to come get the kids. He gathered Gracie and Charlie close, and whispered, "Your Daddy is getting tired, and we need to let him rest so you can see him again tomorrow. Say goodbye for now, and let's let him rest and sleep."
Charlie gave a huge yawn, and Gracie tucked him against her side. All the other adults had gravitated towards the bed, and were quietly talking. Nobody was smiling. Gracie knew something was up, but also knew now was not the time to ask what it was. She was in full "protect Danno" mode, so she joined the others, with Charlie and Dr. Cornett at Danny's bed, and said goodnight and received a huge hug.
Danny kissed Grace on the forehead, and thanked her again for the perfect pajamas. "I'm not taking them off until the hospital makes me." He smiled brightly, if tiredly. When Charlie was lifted up to give him a hug and kiss, he returned them and ruffled his little boy's hair. "This little Tiger needs a nap before gift opening at midnight, right Tiger?"
A yawn was his answer, and that brought genuine laughter from the adults. It was Hannah who offered to take the kids down to wait for Mrs. Cornett to arrive. She would be back, Danny knew. She was Steve's other rock, now.
For the kids' benefit, most of the adults left, heading for a different parking lot, until they saw that Hannah and the kids had boarded their elevator down. Then they beelined back to Danny's room. Becca was petting Angel, who was rubbing her head against Danny's stubbly chin.
Danny felt overwhelmed. He looked at them all and said, in the least Danny-like voice any of them had heard, "I know there's more, and no I do not want to hear it now, but … I don't know how much more I can take." He used Angel as a shield and began to weep.