Chapter 59 "The Added Possibility"

A/N: (3 July 2017) Thank you, everyone who read, reviewed, and are still with me on this rollercoaster!

I know this will seem dark, but the dark will only give way to brighter light later. Angel is back, and that is always a good thing. This chapter follows the consequences of the previous chapter, and as such, must necessarily contain a warning. Please heed this, because you can't euphemize content. I euphemized the wording as much as was possible, but there's some bad things in here.

WARNING: May be too graphic, though I tried not to be. Still, proceed with caution until the italics end.

Chapter 59 "The Added Possibility"

(Friday, 30 December 2016, 7:30 a.m.)

Danny Williams was combing his signature-backcombed sun-bleached blond hair, and paying absolutely no attention to the habitual action. But he did look in the mirror near the door, okayed his look, and put his comb away in his back pocket. Rachel was coming over to discuss Christmas visitation arrangements, and Steve was on his way over with a report he had forgotten to sign at work. Paperwork, more fun than eating pineapple pizza! If there was pineapple pizza, considering this was Hawaii, why didn't they have a mango sausage pizza? Or something with flowers on it? "Spam hibiscus pizza, yummmmm!" he murmured with a smile. But then he harrumphed at the thought.

Rachel was late. Steve was late. Danny peered out the kitchen window for car headlights. He didn't really mind doing paperwork, but he was a little confused how his meticulous style of doing it had allowed him to forget to sign one of the reports. Maybe Steve was using the report as an excuse to get him to finish one of his, and then have a beer, or watch the game, or talk about how they could steal next year's Christmas tree from a protected forest, but this time not get caught! He wouldn't put it past him.

Oh! Headlights! About time! He watched a sleek sedan pull into the driveway. Huh. Rachel was borrowing Stan's car again. Oh well, no big deal, even if it made him scowl a bit. He tried to get along with Stan, and they both did a pretty good job of "playing nice", but deep down inside, Danny couldn't stand the guy. First, he was tall. Danny was used to his own stature being the butt of jokes, but it honestly would always bother him that his ex had gone for a tall guy, as if to rub it in that Danny hadn't even been tall enough to please her.

"Growl."

But then his expressive brows climbed and arched, because it wasn't Rachel that got out of the car. It was the shining tall knight of a guy, who he wanted entering his house about as badly as an army of bugs, or a rabid mongoose, or a spam hibiscus pizza.

Stan was carrying a plainly wrapped package. Okay, huh. They did not exchange gifts. If they did, Danny would give him an empty bottle of hair gel, wrapped in clear plastic wrap and sealed with a rubberband. And it would not be an expensive brand of gel, either. Mr. Tall Perfecthair with the car that cost more than he could afford ever in his life ….

He sighed and pasted his fake pleasant smile on his face and opened the door before Stan Edwards had to dent a knuckle knocking on Danny's very modest front door with the plastic Merry Christmas holly with berries decoration on it.

"Hey, Danny," greeted Stan, who came right on in as if he owned the place.

"Come in," said Danny patiently as the man passed him and headed into the living room, again as if he owned the place. 'Mi casa, su casa is not the case, Buttface,' he thought, and wondered what was up. "Where's Rachel?" he asked out loud.

Stan grinned, and slapped his own thigh, then put the package on the coffee table. Danny could not help but notice it had the kind of wrapping labeled 'discreet', with no bow or ribbon, like the box held a sex toy or leather lingerie for Rachel. Definitely not for him. "Oh, man, we forgot entirely to tell you! We're moving to Dubai, and you, sadly, are not."

What the hell was going on? Dubai? Not with Gracie and Charlie, they weren't! He was preparing his bomb comeback when Stan opened the box and pulled out a nasty pair of handcuffs.

What?

While Danny was thinking 'What?', Stan leapt at him and flattened him with a punch so hard, he literally saw stars as he fell backwards, stunned into bonelessness. He knew those cuffs, which Stan had used as a brass knuckle, had torn a gouge in his face, probably busted his cheekbone. Wow, Stan had a swing. Danny slid off the couch he had landed on, and felt himself grabbed, his arms pulled behind him, and he felt and heard the cuffs locking on his wrists. Not good! And then he stopped being able to think, because Stan basically beat the crap out of him. Danny, badly battered, vaguely wondered where Steve was, since he was getting the life knocked out of him every second or two, and was unable to fight back as he was tossed or fell this way and that, as each vicious punch landed. He was like clothes in the dryer, with no control over where he was sent or what he crashed into next. He knew bones were broken, lots of bones, never able to keep up with what wasn't broken.

"Hey, stop." The words came out thickly, slurred, and he knew he was hurt badly, by a guy he had wanted to pulp for years, yet never had. It was as if he were drugged, unable to resist the thorough beating. "Yer gonna kill me," he slurred, vision fuzzy, hearing buzzy, every part of his body screaming.

"Yes, I am," stated a pristinely dressed Stan, his knuckles not even bloodied, despite all the damage he had inflicted. Danny kept trying to find a way to fight back, and the harder he tried, the less he could do. He was terrified. Danny was way past terrified. "Steve? Help?" The desperate words barely sounded like they were said by a human.

"Oh, he's not coming. I stopped by the office, lured him out to my car, and shot him. He's dead, in the trunk of the car. Sorry, Danno."

What? No! Steve can't be dead. No nonono no!

Danny was more or less on his back, in a heap on the floor, unable to get up or even move. "Yeah," said Stan. "I think you're just about ready for the finale. I always wanted to do this." And Stan straightened him out, sat on his shattered legs and unbuckled Danny's belt, unzipped his pants, then gave them a yank downward while Danny's vision dimmed with the pain, the fear. "I'm not gonna shoot you in the head, Danny boy. Nope. You have been a pain in my ass for years, and now I pay you back. Yup, you get to be the silencer. Yeah. I'll go in deep and start pulling the trigger, watch you jerk each time I fire. Until you stop. Or I run out of bullets. But first, something else is gonna happen. Bro, you have turned me on! Mm! Bro? This is gonna hurt. I will make sure of that." And Stan laughed with powermad, crazy glee.

NO! NO! NOOOO! Fear was the only thing about Danny that was alive. STAN DON'T, NO! He could only think it. His voice was busy screaming with no breath.

Stan grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled him over onto his broken, bruised chest. NOOO, he sobbed, except no sound escaped. Please don't do this! Please, Stan, don't do this!

"Danny? Danny! Hey, wake up, Honey! I think you're having a nightmare!"

Becca. Danny's eyes opened wide and he sat up so quickly, his head spun. It was Becca! He was in his hospital room. He used his good hand to grab the bed rail and steady himself. It had been so vivid! "Hi!" Way too vivid. He still felt the fear, and he swore to God he felt a certain, odd pain. "Uh. Yeah. I had a," he swallowed dryly. "I had, uh, I had a nightmare. Did I, uh, say anything?"

Sometime between last night and right now Becca had changed into her work scrubs. She was wearing a shirt the kids would love, and that he loved: Christmas kittens and puppies. She reached out and with a Kleenex dried the tears he hadn't noticed were streaking down his tense, frightened face. She gave him a long hug. "You said, 'No, don't do this.' Honey, what was the dream? Are you okay?" She let go of him with one hand and used it to pour him a cup of ice water, which she pulled back to hold to his mouth. His hands were shaking. "Here, drink this. I'll hold it. It might make you feel better. Try to relax."

Relax? Not possible. Not after that. Why was he hurting there? No, it was a nightmare. He was safe. Stan was dead. He should try, at least try to relax.

"Oh, yeah, uh, thanks, yeah." He took a drink, and held it in his mouth, trying to decide if his stomach would keep it if he swallowed it. He felt queasy. But he went ahead and swallowed, and it felt good. His stomach gave one tentative lurch and settled down somewhat. He was starting to relax. Until he stopped. What if he did this to Steve, too? We were both helpless. No. No, he had no reason to hurt Steve too. But he tried to kill him. And this wasn't real. But what if it was real? No, it was just a nightmare. I hope. "Uh, I dreamed that, uh, Stan, uh, he was trying to, uh," No, I can't tell her that! "He was trying to kill me."

"Oh, Honey! Yes, that's a nightmare," said Becca sympathetically, and enveloped him in another hug, rubbing her hand up and down his back. "But he can't ever do that because he's dead, so he can never hurt you again."

"Yup, good ol' dead Stan," sighed Danny, and rubbed his left hand up and down Becca's back, inhaling her scent. He didn't know if it was shampoo, soap, or perfume, but it was light, and something between candy and flowers. "What a waste of a dream! I'd much rather dream about you and all the things we will get to share in our life together." Wow, he sounded so flat, like someone having second thoughts. He wasn't, though. He was now scared to death that Stan had hurt Steve, too. And he realized with that thought that he was sure Stan had hurt him. They had no proof, but he felt it. It was the kind of thing Stan would do. Did Rachel know? No, she would have thrown that at me yesterday. She didn't know.

Hannah gave him an intuitive look. "Sweetie, you can tell me if you are, but are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Next to my kids, you are the best person that ever came into my life. I'm just … rattled by the nightmare. He may be dead, but he did try." Oh the things I'm not saying, he thought, and pulled Becca back into another hug. "I can't lose you. I love you," he whispered, and it was true. Someday he would tell her what he feared Stan had done to him. But not yet.

H50 H50 H50 H50

It was shift change, and Becca had to go to work, but she stayed with Danny until the very last minute before she would be late. He shoved the nightmare into a compartment in his mind, and slammed the door shut. He would examine it later.

They talked about his progress, which was clearly shown by better readouts on the monitors, and he was feeling better, too, once he pushed the nightmare out of his thoughts. His stomach had settled down. "Dad will be by in a couple hours, and I know he will be pleased," said Becca, warmly. She had a soothing effect on his nerves. "He'll bring in Angel. She misses you terribly! She had a bit of a restless night, too. She misses her human."

"Awww, I miss my Angel!" He wished she had been with him to interrupt his nightmare. No, he was not going to think about that right now.

"And Hannah is bringing Steve in. I think we should start calling you two 'twins'." Becca giggled. "We used to wonder if we would marry brothers, or twins, and I think we are!"

"Just remember, I'm four hours older than the Neanderthal."

"Oh! Well, I'm four minutes older than Hannah."

"So we're into the fours!" grinned Danny.

"May the Fours be with us!" giggled Becca, and Danny laughed again. "Wow, we could have that on our wedding cake, if we pick that date!"

"Booked," sighed Becca, dramatically. "All the Star Wars fans have that date booked all over the islands. 2018, too." She blushed and admitted that she had checked.

And then the breakfast trays were brought in, and Becca gave him a kiss and said she would be by at lunch, whenever she could take it. "I love you, Danny," she said at the door, and blew him another kiss, which he caught with his left hand. "I love you more," he said, and she shook her head. "Not possible." They gazed at each other for a few loving seconds before Becca finally, reluctantly, left to begin her work day.

He dozed after breakfast, and went right back into the same nightmare, but jolted himself out of it. He decided morning talk shows were preferable to sleep. He wondered what was keeping Angel, Dr. Cornett, and Steve.

It was Hannah who provided him with his kitten and the information on the whereabouts of the others. He greeted her, and absolutely delighted to have Angel back with him, and while she made purring, rumble-meowing kitten love to his face, Hannah explained that Steve had forgotten the waterproof sleeve over his cast this morning in the shower, and his cast was toast. He was in with her dad, getting a new one. Danny tensed again. What had made Steve forget to take care of his cast? Something was up.

H50 H50 H50 H50

Steve had pulled the phone remnants out of the trash and literally taken a hammer to them, to pulverize the thing. It had to be utterly destroyed. Only then could he cope with the existence, or former existence, of that video. He'd gotten dressed while still freezing from his emotional shower, and was using his sling more heavily than usual because he had ruined his cast in the shower.

Hannah had called and asked him if he needed a ride in to Tripler, and he had accepted gladly. When Hannah arrived, Steve explained his red nose and eyes and anything else that was wrong with him as being the beginnings of a headcold, and how it had struck him that he was really going to be part of a whole family after they married, and it was making him need the carry Kleenex even more than the beginnings of a cold.

She hugged him and kissed him and discovered his cast was wet through. "Oh no! Well, Dad can fix that right up." She was on the phone to her father before Steve could even finish thinking that it was serendipity that he had forgotten the waterproof sleeve. He had had just enough time to think about things, and the first thing he had thought, after "I can't tell Danny this," was that he did have to talk to Dr. C. Danny needed to be tested for everything under the sun, and have his doctor looking out for him. And if they could find out if Stan had been tested for diseases, and Rachel, that would help too.

"Stiff?" asked Hannah, curiously, as they drove to Trippler. "You sure are distracted."

Danny always said Steve was an open book, moreso even than he was. And Steve had to agree, reluctantly, if only to himself, that Danny was right. The only way he was going to be able to keep this secret from his partner was if he put on the best acting job he had ever managed, and kept at it. He realized that there might come a time when he did have to tell Danny, because who knew what the future would hold, especially if Stan had given Danny a disease. But that time was not now. Not when he was doing so much better, and about to present Becca with her engagement ring. Not when he literally had bags of well wishes to go through, and difficulties to wade through as he worked with his lawyer and found a new home and took care of his children.

Which meant Steve could not tell Hannah, or let on that he was upset. He opened his face to a smile that brightened his eyes, and winked at her. "I am distracted, by this beautiful woman who I have plans for come … soon … when we make our engagement even more official, and I can still look your dad in the eyes."

"Ahhhh, I see," said Hannah, winking back. "You have a plan in the works. Hmm, plans are good. I like plans."

As soon as they arrived at Tripler, they went to Dr. Cornett's office, and after father and daughter gave each other a warm hug and kiss, Steve explained about the wet, ruined cast, so Hannah took Angel to see Danny. "I'll keep him company until you get there, Steve."

H50 H50 H50 H50

No sooner had Hannah disappeared with Angel than Steve leaned against Dr. Cornett's door and burst again into tears. It didn't last long, but that it had happened at all alerted the sensitive doctor that something was very wrong. He had learned a long time ago not to leap to conclusions, so he waited with his hand on Steve's shoulder, finally wrapping him in a fatherly hug. He had a feeling it had something to do with why Steve's arm would be pruney under the wrapping when he cut the plaster off before putting on the new cast.

Steve said, when he was most of the way to being under control again. "I've seen the proof. Stan had a secret phone. Stan … did what we feared. He hurt Danny."

"Stan did…?" Dr. Cornett's brows went up and down and scrunched, until his eyes widened briefly in horror. His voice was not much above a sad whisper. "Oh. Oh. Well, damn him." He picked up a clear acrylic paperweight on his desk and smashed it down hard. It sounded like a gunshot.

Which brought security, and Dr. Cornett explained that he had dropped his paperweight, he was fine, everything was fine, no cause for alarm. Security left and he went back to feeling horrified, destroyed, and hampered by an inability to express it.

Steve sat across from Hannah's father. He watched him sit down, take in an eternal breath, then a short, huffy one, lean on his desk with his fist in front of his mouth, while his jaw muscles tensed more and more and veins in his neck took on increasing definition. Dr. Cornett suddenly swiveled his chair so his back was to Steve as he grabbed tissues from the box and let out an abbreviated sob. His shoulders shook, and Steve felt the pain in the man who was trying to pull himself together even as his emotions fell apart. He finally rounded the desk and knelt down and gave the doc the same huge hug he had received. "I destroyed the phone. It's gonna be okay. We're gonna help him."

"Yes," Dr. Cornett almost said, his voice destroyed.

"He doesn't have to know. He might never need to know."

Dr. Cornett choked on a sob, then. Steve knew he cared about Danny, but now he saw how much. They shared this bond.

"Lock my door." Steve had to decipher the sounds into words that made sense. He locked the door, and the two men shared their love of a police detective from New Jersey, while between them they emptied a box of tissues. They both cried, holding on to one another, until their heads thought they would explode and their noses and eyes felt the sizes and color of angry red tomatoes.

H50 H50 H50 H50

Luckily, Dr. Cornett had ways to mostly de-red their faces, and now that they both had head colds (or looked and sounded like it), they would just use that as their excuse for headaches, hysterical sinuses, and occasionally watery eyes. Sharing their emotions had done both men a lot of good, although they were both feeling like they had to win academy awards for the next few days to keep Danny from guessing that they were keeping something from him. Luckily, there were enough distractions to keep Danny from realizing they were winning academy awards for his benefit.

They planned strategy together. "I already tested Danny for, uh, physical damage, and found nothing of note," said Dr. Cornett, as he worked on Steve's new cast. They had had to wait awhile to begin working on it until the pruney skin of Steve's arm had dried enough not to risk a fungal or some other type of infection.

"And diseases?" asked Steve.

"Ran the full panel, but now that we, uh." Neither man could say the words yet. "Since Stan traveled a lot, there are a few more very rare things I can test for. I'll do that today. I'll call Max and have him check Stan too. His eyebrows may do interesting things at the request, but he's discreet, and if he suspects anything, he'll keep it to himself."

"What about checking Rachel?"

"Excellent idea. Inmates are routinely screened for everything, so they may already have done that."

"The kids?"

Dr. Cornett paused in working a water resistant, breathable wrap around Steve's arm, covering the technicolor bruising where the actual break in the arm had occurred. "I'll pull their charts and see if Charlie was tested before he had the bone marrow transplant. Come to think of it, Danny would have been tested before donating to his son, but probably not for the very rare things. Hm. I will pull Grace's chart and do some research. I don't think she needs testing. It would be awfully hard to explain."

Steve nodded. He was feeling physically and emotionally worn out. He honestly felt just like he did on those rare occasions when he had come down sick. He was sick, but not from a virus or germ.

.

H50 H50 H50 H50

Eventually both men made it to Danny's room, where Angel had taken up an interesting perch. She was all tucked up like a sphinx with without the outward forelegs, on the blanket over Danny's … junk. Danny was looking sober. "She's guarding my stuff," said Danny, before he said hi, since they hadn't said, "Hi," either, being startled by Angel's positioning. "Hannah went down to the cafeteria for something to eat, so she will be another little while, since you just missed her."

Steve had wondered. But he also wondered about Angel. "Ummm," said Steve. "Why is she guarding, you know, that?"

"I had a nightmare and she figured it out." He looked up a Steve, briefly, and then Dr. Cornett, and then fixated again on Angel, who was purring. He added, "It was about Stan, and he was … I think he did. I think he did, and Angel is protecting me now, and I know there's no proof, but I think he did."

Steve and Dr. Cornett exchanged glances. Dr. Cornett was the one to speak up. "We I mean I tested you, uh, but we I mean I can test again, more thoroughly?"

"Yes, that would be good. Was Steve tested, too?"

Steve stiffened. "Why would I need to be tested for that?"

Danny sighed, and one tear traced down his face. "Because Stan was a depraved son of a bitch, and we were both helpless, and have no proof he did, or didn't. For your health, you should be checked."

Steve sat down in a plastic chair, and felt his whole world turn upside down. He didn't know. He had destroyed the phone before he watched the whole thing. He had a feeling Duke had, too.

Danny started to cry, and whispered, "I'm so sorry," as Angel moved up to his face and tried to comfort him.