Chapter 68 "Happy"

A/N: (7 August 2017) I apologize for scaring everyone with the latest cliffhanger. It had a purpose, which begins to come out in this chapter. The reviews were a testament of how deeply you care about these characters, and I do too. You are all my friends, and I thank you for being honest with me, whether you loved it or thought it was overdoing it. I give you my word, I won't do whump for whump's sake. To the person who stopped following, I'm very sad. But honesty is always appreciated, and that was an honest reaction, and I respect that. I am, however, very glad Bradley Edwards came as a complete surprise. Am I permitted a "YIPPEE" for that? Thank you all! That includes all guest reviews.

CBS owns Hawaii Five-0.

Chapter 68 "Happy"

(Thursday, 12 January 2017, 12:10 p.m.)

Mrs. Benson, all 4 feet 10 inches of her, kept knocking on the McGarrett back door. She was beside herself with worry after seeing John's son attacked and taken away in the big boat. "John? John! Please come! Oh dear." Her voice was quavery, until suddenly John was striding toward the door, carrying a distraught kitten, and wearing nothing but a white towel.

He opened the door, put the kitten inside the house, and closed the door. "Mrs. Benson! What's wrong?"

"The man in the boat, he came and attacked Steve! He tied him after hitting him! He made him take pills, a handful of different colors, and made him drink. He put tape on his mouth. Silver tape. He hit him on the … the left side of his head with a … a scuba tank. Steve stopped moving, and the man dragged him and swam with him to the boat, where he put him in the inflatable raft the boat was pulling. Steve is bleeding! He's hurt! His hands and feet were turning purple! The man tricked Steve. He said his scuba tank wasn't working right, and then he punched Steve, hard, twice. He said his name was Bradley Edwards. He's going to kill Steve because he said Steve killed his brother, Stan, which I don't believe, John. Steve would never do that!"

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Steve went white as the towel. He wanted to interrupt and ask questions, but his mind stopped and he listened, unable to get a word out. He looked toward the beach and did not see Danny, but he did see his towel lying on the sand, and the boat was gone. The boat was gone! "Are you sure? Oh God." Oh God oh God oh God! He spoke very fast. "Uh, hang on, let me get my … phone. Uh…yeah, just a second. I'll be just a second. Clothes!"

That explained Angel's panic attack, because now he was having one. He slipped back inside and ran to his room, having snatched up his phone on the way, already calling in HPD to send a squad car to his house immediately, Danny had been taken. He asked to be patched through to Sergeant Duke Lukela, and told him everything Mrs. Benson had told him. "I need a helicopter to pick me up. Alert the Coast Guard. Fine that boat! The Liat Pacific. It's a 25 foot cabin cruiser with a 9-foot Zodiac, tube frame, gunmetal gray, no motor, towed behind it. It left my beach heading, uh, I'll have to tell you that in a minute!" As he spoke into his phone, he was pulling on his clothes so fast, he didn't even realize his shirt was inside out. He grabbed his keys, put Angel in the bathroom with her cat box, and ran back outside.

"How long ago?"

"I'd been knocking on your door for at least ten minutes, maybe more."

Oh God! "Show me where. I'm so glad you told me. Could you tell me again?"

Mrs. Benson did so as Steve sprinted to the beach, where he saw all the evidence he needed to confirm her story. Imprints where Danny's body had impacted the sand, Danny's towel, the indentation that was clearly handcuffed wrists, with pressure on them, as if the other man had sat on him to keep him down; and there was blood, enough that it indicated a fairly deep wound. The hand marks, and no boat off shore. Instead, he could see where the water had not settled from the propeller disturbing sand and marine flora just off the beach, and a trail of a slight sheen of oil from a boat engine that might have a slight leak in one of the tubes.

And no Danny.

"Which way, Mrs. Benson? Which way did the boat head?"

She pointed. Teacup whimpered.

Steve called Duke again, gave the additional information. "Heading NNW. How long till the helicopter arrives here?"

"Five minutes." He'd swim out and be pulled up by a cable. It was a lot faster than driving in to HPD and going from there to the choppers.

Steve turned quickly to Mrs. Benson. "What was Bradley Edwards wearing?"

She waved her free hand in the air. "A scuba suit, dark. From his head to his toes."

Steve turned back to the phone, and Duke again. "Suspect last seen in a head-to-toe dark colored scuba diving suit. But when I talked with him, he was in a blue and green aloha shirt and green, uh, shorts. Not board shorts, more like bermudas. Bare feet. Weapons, unknown, assumed armed and dangerous."

Stan's brother, Bradley. Steve cursed under his breath. He'd talked to the man, and hadn't recognized him. He had changed drastically from his photos, with hair loss, weight loss, pale, blotchy skin. He needed info yesterday! Since Chin and Kono were off the island again, on their way to San Francisco, he called Lou Grover, and after hesitating a few seconds, Adam Noshimuri, Kono's husband who was still out of work, but had useful connections. He needed people he could count on, and he needed them NOW!

Lou and Adam agreed to start searching every detail they could dig up on Bradley Edwards, and every alias they could think of. He had given Lou the access code to the Five-0 offices, and Adam would meet him there. "Change the X to a K, the 5 to a 7, and it's the same one we used when you were on the payroll." Steve gave Lou a description, explaining how Bradley's appearance had changed since the photos they had on file: extreme weight loss, paleness, hair loss, making him look older. Blotchy skin. "He gave Danny pills, and I need you to find where he was staying and see if you can find out what those pills were, and where he got them, but the what is more important than the where they came from."

God, he was worried about Danny. Unconscious, bleeding, threatened (again) with death at the hands of someone with the last name Edwards ….

Duke and Pua arrived in squad cars at the same time, with the Crime Processing Unit. Steve saw a bottle floating in the water a short distance off his beach, so he dove in and retrieved it, slipping it into an evidence bag.

He had barely spoken to Duke and Pua before the police helicopter arrived, so he swam out to where they could drop a line down to him. As soon as he was in the chopper, he was handed two thick towels, and reported everything while he received what was known about the Liat Pacific.

It was a rental, and as the chopper swung NNW, a call came in from one of the Coast Guard boats. "Liat Pacific, Zodiac in tow, position as follows! Position stationary for now." Coordinates were given, the chopper slightly changed course, and flew in fleet pursuit. Thirty-two minutes had passed since Danny had been taken. Five minutes later, an update was given. "Suspect in sight, using high powered binoculars. Suspect and hostage confirmed in Zodiac. Hostage is moving, he is alive! Bound. He looks unwell, groggy. Medevac requested! Hostage given clear liquid to drink, there is substantial blood on the left side of his head. Wait, he is now gagged, looks like a medical device, not sure. It is locked in place. Being given more liquid to drink … fighting it … unsuccessfully. Binding on wrists now, uh … Danny is face down, wrists now secured by line tied to tow rope. Knots … unreachable. Ankles, I can't see, but must be too … he's stretched out and not touching the Zodiac except for his maybe lower legs and feet. He will need help to free himself. He's quite sick with repeated bouts of vomiting. Suspect has returned to Liat Pacific, she's moving again, high speed, same course. Holding steady. Continuing. Wait! Suspect climbing back into Zodiac, small handgun is visible! We are not in range to engage, only slowly gaining! Repeat, suspect with Hostage in Zodiac! He has a gun! Update! Suspect overboard, repeat, overboard! Liat Pacific and Zodiac continuing on course away from suspect. Omigod, sharks in area, confirmed sighting. Hostage appears to be bleeding, sharks are swarming the Zodiac, bumping it. Guys, get here fast! We will rescue as soon as we get in range! Wait! Update! Zodiac is taking on water! Repeat, Zodiac is taking on water! We cannot catch the Liat unless you guys can get someone on board to stop it! Get a Medevac out here, now! Hostage appears in distress, medical assistance required. No sign of suspect, but sharks are thrashing in a secondary location. Hostage now appears to be unconscious."

Steve thought he would have a heart attack. The HPD chopper had already called for a Tripler Medevac. "Tell them to make sure Dr. Cornett is on it, or standing by when the chopper lands!" ordered Steve, his face both worried and stone-like.

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Danny regained consciousness, feeling like Steve was driving on the ruttiest road ever, except he felt and smelled the saltwater, and remembered the boat. He must have been carried onto it. And he was trying to figure out why he felt so nauseous because he didn't get seasick. His eyes were shut, and no matter how hard he tried to open them, something held them shut. He felt unbelievably nauseous. His head hurt terribly, but the nausea was even worse. He was dying. It felt that bad. His mouth tasted of salt. He groaned in misery, tried to curl into a ball, and that is when he realized his ankles were crossed and tied to something. His feet were numb. He wondered if he still had feet.

He then he felt his hair grabbed and pulled back, forcing his head back sharply and his mouth opened, and more liquid was immediately poured down his throat. Salty water. Very very very salty water. He started to fight, to gag and could not swallow any more water. It dribbled down his cheeks, past his ears. Then something else, something metal, was put in his mouth, and suddenly he heard a ratcheting sound and his mouth was so wide open, he thought his jaw would break. It was some kind of gag, but not one he was familiar with. He could not fight the thing or close his mouth even a little, no matter how hard he tried. The hinges of his jaw ached, sharply. And he didn't understand it. He felt something pulling on his cheeks, keeping the gag in his mouth, Something yanked hard against the back of his neck, and then the pressure stopped increasing. It hurt, and his teeth started to ache, too.

Danny thought he could not possibly feel worse. Dizzy. Head aching. Trying not to hurl. More salt water was poured in his mouth, and he gagged on it and only swallowed a little.

"More! I need you to experience hell before you die! Fire, this awful sickness, and then death will be a relief for you!" An angry voice demanded it, and the bottle jammed into his mouth, squeezed so the liquid went straight down his throat so he had no choice but to swallow everything given him. It felt like a lot, and he was afraid because he knew it wasn't just water. This was salty, too, and something else he could not figure out. Danny felt dizzy and hot and cold as the liquid went down his throat. Whenever he thought he couldn't feel worse, he did.

"Oh, that stuff will turn you inside out, you'll be dehydrated fast, making everything else worse. You will experience hell." Danny thought he already was. He knew he was going to die unless help came very quickly.

His wrists were now in front of him, tied with tight, scratchy rope instead of handcuffs. He could feel his wrists bleeding, but had no sensation in his hands, no movement. But he felt when his wrists were yanked away from his body, stretching him toward something, so he was face down, yet from the knees upwards his body wasn't touching anything. His shoulders were straining. The bouncing and jolting of whatever he was in made the stretch of his body hurt enough that he groaned again. He tried to ask for mercy, but words were impossible to form with his mouth gagged open by that metal thing. And Bradley would never have shown mercy. He was going in the opposite direction in everything he had done.

"I like groaning, Danny boy. Keep doing that. Right now you want to hurl, but in a little while, you will; you'll be sicker than you've ever been in your life. So just feel wretched. You are positioned so you won't choke on it. No easy out for you! And you can't get loose or ease that stretch. I know knots. You're stuck. I thought a lot about what I was going to do to you. So now you know you shouldn't have killed Stan. And we both know it's your fault he's dead. I think you are ready. After I do this, then I'll leave you alone awhile."

Danny didn't even listen to most of what Bradley said, because he was feeling every second that he was going to be sick. He felt feverish and clammy, shaking, weak, every bad feeling there was. But then Bradley punched him in the gut, and that started the vomiting, which happened over and over and over and over again, until Danny wished he could just die and get it over with. He had never felt so sick in his entire life. He was gasping and moaning when the interlude finally ended, and still he knew it would happen again, for the nausea was only the smallest amount alleviated.

It wasn't until later and a couple more epic rounds of sickness that he realized Bradley had left him in the Zodiac, which he felt bump and bounce against the ocean waves as the bigger boat picked up speed again.

Still feeling green, unable to see or speak, he hung on because there wasn't any other choice. But he felt the change in the Zodiac when Bradley returned.

"Yeah. I'm liking that moaning and retching, Danny. But I need you to feel one more thing. I heard my brother was shot because of you. Twice. So I owe you two bullets."

Danny, heard the gunshots and felt the searing pain in side of his left thigh, another hot slice just across the top of the same thigh, a graze, unlike the first one.. He cried out, his whole body jerked, and he felt blood running down his leg, heard it dripping onto the floor of the Zodiac. It brought on another bout of de-eating, which lasted long enough that Danny was dizzy and faint by the time it eased.

But he had also heard other sounds while he was groaning between intervals of sickness. One sound had been a weird, ululating cry of fright, which he knew wasn't him since the metal thing holding his mouth open wouldn't allow him to make that sound. Plus, there was a splash. Danny heard the sound of the boat tearing through the water, the cries getting further and further away, suddenly growing in strength and terror as the Zodiac bucked and bounced differently, as if it were carrying less weight.

Had Bradley fallen overboard? Something had happened. The boat was lighter, and Danny heard the sloshing of vomit in the bottom of the boat. It had almost no smell, which was a blessing. Then something bumped the little inflatable boat being towed. The bump and another bounce turned Danny into yet another round of violent expellations as his thigh and the rest of him shrilled out in pure pain, but he had no time to moan between bouts of sickness until this time, when it let up, he actually did feel infinitesimally better. On a misery scale of 1 to 10, he now only felt a 15.

But he became aware of another sensation. He could not feel his feet, but now he could feel water sloshing against his ankles. That second shot. It must have punctured the floor of the boat, and he was bleeding. These were shark waters.

Fear shot like lightning up his spine. If the Zodiac was taking on water, he was soon to be shark bait. Once it sank, he was done for. If he was lucky, he would drown before the sharks realized he was bleeding. He would drown, or feed sharks. Or drown, and then feed sharks. Death was minutes away.

So this was it, he realized. He was about to die.

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Danny turned to prayer, and prayed for his family, his friends, and said a quiet internal goodbye to each, with all the love he could find in his deeply loving heart. And in that moment, when he was facing certain death, in whatever short span of time he had left, he realized the saying was true: the only thing we take with us is the love. He made his peace with this world, forgave Bradley and Stan and Rachel, Stella, Matty, and asked God to look over and bless those closest to his heart. Since he was barely hanging on to consciousness anyway, he finally let go of that, and drifted into a stupor filled with beauty and light, the opposite of the darkness with which his conscious world surrounded him. His fight was nearly over. He was content in knowing he had done the best he could, and that the people he loved all knew it, and that even Angel would be okay.

He didn't hear Steve call his name, or feel the hands encircling him with a harness, the removal of the gag and the ropes, being raised through the air into the waiting police helicopter, Steve's grip on him gentle but not about to let him go.

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Steve held Danny, as an Officer worked with incredible gentleness to put a temporary bandage on the damaged leg, the rope-damaged skin of ankles and wrists. When the transfer was made to the Coast Guard vessel, Steve went with his partner and brother, as well as the very quick transfer to the Tripler Medevac helicopter. Dr. Cornett went to work at once, and Steve needed Tylenol because Danny's skin was badly sunburnt, his fever was high, he was dangerously dehydrated, but Dr. Cornett said he would make it; they had reached Danny in time, and Steve could not decide if he was crying from relief or how close they had come to losing Danny again.

Before they reached Tripler, Danny briefly came around. Dr. Cornett had managed to find the right compound to release the tape safely from his eyes, so he could see again, albeit fuzzily. Clearly in pain, he nevertheless smiled with friendly, contented recognition at his doc. "Hi, Dad. Will I live?" he asked, and Dr. Cornett was glad he was wearing a mask when he answered, because his lip and chin were quivering, and his voice came out husky. "Yup, Son. Full recovery ahead."

Danny smiled. "Good. Wasn't really done yet. Want to marry Becca."

Then he shifted his gaze to Steve, and held Steve's gaze silently for several seconds before he whispered through chapped lips coated with healing balm, "Thank you, Brother. Love you. Your shirt's inside-out."

Steve swallowed around the golfball in his throat. "Love you, Brother. H-How do you feel?"

Danny smiled weakly and closed his eyes, preparatory to falling asleep again. "Happy," he said clearly. Steve and Dr. Cornett both grabbed fistfuls of Kleenex.