Disclaimer: Do not own Hawaii Five-0. No copyright infringement intended.
Authors Note: Because you asked so nicely :)
Medic 11 – Ambulance. Central – Central Dispatch. Baker 1 – Queens Medical Center. Priority 2 – Emergency. 9520 – Child Battering.
Enjoy!
Chapter 5
"Medic 11, Central, Medic 11."
"Central, Medic 11, go ahead."
"Medic 11 requesting talk through with Baker 1."
"Stand by, Medic 11. Central dispatch to Baker 1, come in please."
"Baker 1 receiving, go ahead Central."
"Baker 1, I have Medic 11 en-route and requesting talk through with you."
"10-4, Central. Go ahead."
"Central, Medic 11, pass your message."
"Baker 1, Medic 11, we're coming to you priority 2, silent approach with a 9520. ETA 15 minutes. Requesting private pediatric consult upon arrival. Patient is an unaccompanied 13-year-old female who is stable at this time, but has been sedated. HPD and Five-0 are aware."
"Medic 11, Baker 1, 10-4."
"Central from Medic 1, talk through complete. Also requesting communication with Five-0 regarding release of assigned escort."
"10-4. Standby."
H50
"Where are you?" Lou barked. His patience, at least whatever he'd possessed before his conversation with the EMT, all but evaporated once the line through HPD dispatch had been opened up.
"Sir?"
Sirens still wailing, the question in the young officer's voice only infuriated him further.
"I asked where you are. Because where ever you are now, that would be wrong. Where you should be is at Iolani Palace about to piss yourself, my face inches from yours," Lou growled. "And turn that God damn siren off like the EMTs requested!"
"But, Sir …"
"Kekoa, if you don't turn off that damn siren, when you get here, I will personally make you eat the fucking speakers! Turn it off, rookie … NOW!" Grover was beginning to understand De Costa's recommendation that the officer be withdrawn. Especially if his inability to follow a simple order, albeit more of a directive from said EMT, was any indication.
"Sir, Commander McGarrett gave me orders to escort Miss Williams to Queens Medical and I intend …"
Lou firmly believed that the rage with which the command was delivered should have warned Kekoa. Obviously the man's fear of Commander McGarrett far outweighed his voice at the end of the line. The police cruiser's siren continued to announce itself to all on the street, the rookie's second ignore of a command given, pissing him off further.
"I don't care what you intended! Get over here!"
"But, Sir! Commander McGarrett …"
"Do you have any children, Kekoa?" Grover ignored that he'd just thrown the man a non sequitur.
"Uhm … no, Sir … I have a cat …"
Grover rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, you have a cat. Did you give birth to it? Have you stayed up late at night with it when it's sick? When it won't stop crying and you can't figure out why? Would you give your last breath to save it?"
"Well, no Sir, but it's a bit like having a child …"
Oh give me strength. "And if my grandmother had wheels, she'd be a bike!"
"Uhm …"
"Are you aware, Officer Kekoa, that Commander McGarrett has not seen the bruises on Grace Williams' forearms and wrists, but is aware of their existence?" Lou's voice had dropped an entire octave, but the threat was more than still evident.
"Uhm … no, Sir … I mean … yes, Sir?
"So whom would you prefer to face, him or me?"
Only the briefest of hesitation passed through dead air space.
"I'll be there in ten, Sir."
"I thought so." Grover slammed his cell onto the smooth surface of the smart table.
"If the man had an ounce of intelligence, he'd just resign and not bother to show up here at all," Kono spat, her concentration never wavering from the GPS and traffic grids laid out before her.
"When pigs fly …" Lou grumbled, picking up his cell and putting it in his pocket. He patted Kono's shoulder before he stalked out of the offices. Time for his own brand of search and destroy. McGarrett wasn't the only one who could intimidate. If Kekoa was lucky, he'd only get reduced into the three basic components of concrete and used locally by a construction company. If not, well then, Jimmy Hoffa would be found before he was.
H50
"You've got traffic systems under control?" Chin stepped away from Kono. Her finger's continued to map out the ambulance's route into Queens. She was ensuring route access through each intersection by keeping the lights green.
"Yep, I've got it." Kono had begun tracking emergency services as soon as Grover had received the call from De Costa with her request. The EMT had been trying to keep Grace calm, hence the emergency services crews' decision to 'come in hot with a silent approach'. But Kekoa had refused the EMTs multiple request for lights only, forcing the experienced professional to go over his head.
"I'll call Steve to let him know that we're tracking Grace and clearing the way. He can just concentrate on her when she comes in then."
H50
A gust of air announced Grace's arrival. Her arms were crossed over her abdomen in a self-induced hug as she shuffled through the double doors. De Costa's hands gently steadied her, one arm protectively wrapped behind her waist, the other at her elbow. A slight squeeze from the EMT's fingers, an indication that the floor shouldn't be so interesting, encouraged Grace to look up. When she finally caught sight of her appointed Uncle … she froze.
The look in the steel grayness of his eyes sucked her in, made her breath quicken. To anyone outside of his 'ohana, Uncle Steve came across as a threat, deadly in movement, though his stance alone was an ominous warning. But to Grace, he was safety. Safety that she'd only ever felt with her Dad. Her Danno, whom they'd ripped away from her when he'd needed her the most. As the haunted memories of her and her father's struggle through the forest mingled with the sounds of the ER, she stared at her Uncle, beseeching him to shield her. Everything that'd happened was pushing in on her, her world tumbling into uncertainty and guilt. She'd begun to feel so hopeless from her lack of control over everything, every choice that'd been made for her.
Until she saw him.
She burst into tears, stumbling forward until her Uncle's hands gripped her. He allowed her to fall against him as she threw her trembling arms around his waist. She buried her face within his chest, cried in choking sobs, unable to control the anguish that finally overwhelmed her.
"Unc … Ste …"
H50
It was truly in moments like these that Steve believed his partner's constant ribbing held slivers of the truth. When he became keenly aware that he'd the emotional intelligence and abilities of igneous rock.
Steve had been checking in at the nurse's station for an update. At the sound of the double doors opening, he'd made it only as far as an about face before he'd faltered.
"God, Danno … you need to be here for her."
The sight of his niece took his breath away, made his own legs weak. Because hidden behind the misery buffeting against his senses, loomed her strength. Someone who knew that the life of her father had been dependent upon her choices that she'd made that day. He knew there were depths upon depths to Danny's daughter, but never before had Steve endured the intensity of her stare with so much knowing, so much understanding. Gazing at Grace was like getting a glimpse of Danny … and of himself. He swore the emotions she wore on her face mimicked his own, if he were to let them through for everyone to see. But damned if his brain didn't stutter as if he didn't know what to do about it for her.
Until her tears came, as if the sight was the spark of a fuse to gunpowder. He hurried towards her, dodging the masses and gathered her against his torso … almost speechless.
"God, Gracie."
"Commander, over here." The EMT, De Costa, was indicating an exam room that would allow for more privacy.
Without waiting for Gracie's permission, Steve captured both of her legs in the crook of his arm, keeping his left tucked securely behind her back. He'd been certain that she wouldn't have been able to give permission, nor would he have been able to voice the request, due to the lump lodged in his throat. So he carried her the few steps, keeping her firmly pressed against his chest, her arms now wrapped around his neck, as she continued to weep.
De Costa patted the surface of the gurney stationed in the middle of the room.
"I'll get the Nurse or the Doc." The EMTs fingers gently tucked errant strands of Grace's hair behind her ear, her palm lingering at the side of her head. "She'll be fine, Commander, now that you're here." De Costa smiled. "I'll be right back."
Steve only took a moment to survey the room before he maneuvered himself up onto the gurney, his niece settled within his arms and on top of his lap. He didn't consider placing her on the bed by herself. He wasn't ready for her to leave the protection of his embrace, nor did it seem that Grace was.
Her crying had become a broken lament that continued to pull at his emotions faster than he could catch them and slam them back into place. Although her head was still tucked messily beneath his chin and her fists were twisting the threads of his shirt behind his neck, he forced himself to take a deep breath. And then another. A miserable attempt to loosen the tightness his throat was determined to hold on to.
"Okay, Danno. I can do this. I can."
Before he could clear his throat though, both De Costa and another woman strode into the room. Steve noted the name tag immediately and stiffened. Dr. Angela Patel, Pediatrician.
"Evening Commander, I'm Dr. Patel. Amy tells me that this brave young girl needs a quick once over so she can be released into your care." The physician's voice was steadying, likely from years of practice at putting both patients and their guardians at ease.
"Hey, Grace? I'm taking off now. You're in the best of hands with the Commander and Dr. Patel. You take good care of your Dad for me, okay?" De Costa placed her fingers gently atop Grace's shoulder before pulling away and nodding to him. "You know where to find me if you need anything, Commander."
Not a question, just a statement that spoke to the earlier actions of this fucked up day. Steve nodded, his arms tightening around Grace as his features darkened. He'd been so single mindedly focused on 'seeing' Danny's daughter that he hadn't yet taken in the bruises that tracked across her wrists and forearms.
"Grace? Can I take a look at your arms? You won't have to move much for me to see what I need to." Dr. Patel had yet to touch Grace. She was still ensconced within the depths of his embrace, her eyes tightly shut.
No one moved.
It took a moment for Steve to clear out the emotions pummeling him before he could help. Because in all reality, he didn't want to see. And he was afraid that his reaction would frighten Grace.
"Hey, Gracie? Can you show me your arms? We just want to look." Steve reached up, cupping her head as he placed a kiss atop her hair. "Please, Grace," he whispered. His gaze never faltered from the dusty, matted strands that fell across her shoulders and that had fallen back across her face. Essentially, she was hiding from everyone. When she finally sniffled and then nodded, Steve lightened his hold around her. It was just enough that she could free her fingers from behind his neck and pull her arms away from his shoulders to place her hands, palms facing upwards, in her lap.
Even though he'd known what to expect, his vision flared an incandescent red.
Bruises from an accidental injury tend not to form in a wrapped appearance. The bruises around Grace's forearms and wrists, because Steve knew what to look for, clearly indicated a thumb pad on one side of each bruise and finger pads on the other. The use of force and restraint.
"I'm sorry." Her apology was barely a flutter of breath across trembling lips, but the fact that she'd uttered those words was all wrong. So very, very wrong.
"No, Grace. You shouldn't be apologizing for anything that happened today. None of this was your fault."
His statement was forced from between tightly clenched teeth. He could still feel his veins pulsing. Frustrated, Steve tried to figure out how he could put into words the anger he was feeling without making it sound as if he was angry with her. For him, it wasn't tough to understand the way the anger twisted his own rationality, but neither he, nor God forbid Danny, would want him to explain that to her. That was definitely not a conversation he'd be having with Grace, and certainly not now.
Even though her head was turned, he could see her eyelids close for a moment. Yet they opened when she pivoted towards him, as if her gaze alone was asking him if he really wanted to know why everything about this day was her fault.
He knew she felt this way, he could see it within her expression. That for some reason, in her mind, she was to blame.
Steve waited, the pediatrician completely forgotten. He waited and watched as Grace swallowed and then began to pick at the edge of her grubby t-shirt. Her voice was weak, distant, but he still heard her.
"Uncle Steve, I moved."
~to be continue~