Chapter 6

The thoughts flashed through Danny's mind at lightning speed. Steve—I hope! He'll end this.

But what if it's somebody else? Another friend, a neighbor, an innocent bystander? I've got to warn them.

Taking the distraction as a gift, Danny suddenly threw the keys in his left hand hard toward his enemy as Gregson was surprised by both the buzz of the doorbell and the thrown keys. Danny fired a shot upward toward the window to warn the visitor at the door. Within an instant, he was moving to knock the gun from a temporarily befuddled Gregson's hand, but the escaped murderer's hold on it was tight. They struggled for control of the .38, while Danny still tried to maintain a handhold on his .22.

Without real skill but with a lot of luck, Gregson managed to angle the gun strangely toward Danny's body and fire a single round. The close-range blast from his own firearm threw Danny backward until he was almost flat on his back on the floor. Still conscious, and with determination and fading clear-headedness, Danny lifted his head and arm to look at Gregson. He didn't really aim but fired his .22 twice in Gregson's direction. Gregson was a moving target as he reached for the keys on the floor, but even so Danny hit him with both bullets—in the shoulder and the abdomen. Recognizing that the small caliber bullets had not stopped his attacker, Danny struggled to roll away to take refuge from more bullets from the .38 Gregson held.

At the sound of the initial gunshots inside the apartment, Steve McGarrett pulled his gun, kicked boldly at the door and burst through it, ducking as he did. Gregson, still fully alert and on his feet, swung his arm around toward the apartment door and fired wildly. McGarrett recognized his enemy immediately, dodged his badly aimed bullets, and quickly returned fire, expertly drilling Gregson to the floor with a third shot to his body.

Entering the apartment, McGarrett warily went over to Gregson's sprawled body. He instantly recognized the gun as a .38 police special and kicked it away. Leaning down to touch Gregson, he felt several times for a carotid pulse but was unsurprised to find it absent. Walter Gregson would not be going back to prison, as the escapee himself had predicted.

Turning his attention from the perpetrator of the violence, he scanned the immediate area and called in a panicked voice, "Danno! Danno! Where are you?" Taking just a few footsteps, he saw where Dan Williams mutely lay, bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound in his lower middle chest.

Steve unknowingly let out a loud groan of his own at the sight. Rushing, he re-holstered his gun, fell down to his knees beside Danny and hastily put one hand under the injured man's head and the other firmly on the bloody hole in his friend's body.

Seeing Danny's eyelids open but unblinking, Steve pleaded with him for some acknowledgement that his eyes were still seeing, not blankly left open in death. "Danno, talk to me! Please! Please!"

Danny's head did not move, but his blue eyes turned vaguely, hauntingly, toward Steve. As Steve drew closer, he could barely hear the shallow breaths Danny struggled to take. Sighing in at least temporary relief, Steve whispered, "Good, good! Just hold on… I'm going to call an ambulance!"

First, Steve looked around and took a pillow from a chair and firmly put it over the wound. Then, he uncurled Danny's fingers from around the trigger of the small pistol that Danny still held so he could lift the hand to lie on top of the pillow, to give at least a semblance of pressure to the wound while he reached over for the phone.

Pulling the phone to where he could use it while sitting on the floor near Danny's side, Steve made the call for emergency medical assistance then replaced Danny's slack hand on the pillow with the heavy pressure of his own hand. Cradling the phone between his face and his shoulder, he barked out urgent orders for a speedy response.

All the while, Steve tried to hold Danny's silent gaze as firmly as he held the pillow over the hemorrhaging wound. If eye contact would keep Danny in this world until medical help arrived, Steve would hold it without blinking, however long it took.

Confident that help was on the way, Steve let the phone's handset fall to the floor and spoke again to the fallen man. "Danno, stay with me. I know I'm hurting you with this pressure on your chest, but we've got to stem the bleeding."

"Steeeeve," came the almost inaudible sound from Danny's lips.

Steve silently thanked heaven for this response from his friend. "Easy. Easy. The ambulance is coming. I'm here, Danno. I'm not leaving you."

"Gregs…?"

Barely hearing him, Steve confirmed his words. "Gregson? Yeah, Danno, we got him. He's dead."

"Pau," Danny said. Steve nodded in agreement.

Danny slowly closed his eyes-which scared Steve to his soul-then quietly spoke haltingly, "Don't… forget….''

Frightened by the fact that Danno had broken the gaze Steve had held so important, Steve also struggled now with what Danno might be trying to say. Does he feel like he is dying? What might he be trying to say if he thinks these are his final moments? He didn't want to hear it-he's not dying!

But he also didn't want not to allow his friend to make his final peace if he might indeed lose this battle. Cramped by the uncomfortable position of his long legs, Steve readjusted his body on the floor as he tried to draw even nearer to his friend. "What, Danno, what is it? Tell me, my friend. Don't forget...what?"

While his facial grimaces of pain increased and indicated he was still somewhat conscious, Danny was silent.

"Danno, I…." Steve stuttered with what he wanted to say. Wrestling with his emotions, he could only whisper, "Keep fighting, Danno. Keep fighting." Then struggling to produce a tight smile, Steve continued, "I need you at my side, Danno, not just mementos of you in a box up in my closet."

At those words, Danny opened his eyes, just barely, to meet Steve's gaze once again.

To Steve's relief, HPD police officers and paramedics swept in just then with their equipment and swiftly took over Steve's care of the still-living victim, as the Five-O chief updated them on Danny's condition so far. They packed the gunshot wound tightly to further stem the bleeding, took vital signs, and started oxygen without eliciting as much as a murmur from the patient before carefully loading Danny onto their gurney, all under Steve's close scrutiny. As they moved to exit the apartment, the now semi-conscious patient became agitated and reached his hand out to Steve.

Grasping the outstretched hand lightly, Steve comforted him. "Danno, they're taking you to the hospital. You can talk to me later," he hoped. "I'm going to the hospital with you."

From beneath the oxygen mask, Danno pleaded, "Noooooooo, Steve… Get your…" and ran out of breath.

"What, what is it, Danno?" as he held the weak hand even tighter.

Leaning close, Steve heard him say the muffled word, "Keys…."

Steve turned around and indeed saw keys on the floor near the sprawled body of Walter Gregson. They were the keys to his boat that he had lent Danno hours before. He picked them up and turned in bewilderment toward Danno on the gurney. But Danny's eyes were closed, and he was silent and still.

McGarrett rushed to touch the injured man's shoulder and looked up in panic at the paramedic, who had also checked on the patient as Danny fell silent. He spoke up in reassurance, "He's just lost consciousness, that's all. I'm surprised he stayed with us this long; he's lost a lot of blood."

Steve pocketed the keys as he said, "OK, let's go. Hurry." As an afterthought, he called to one of the familiar HPD officers, "Arnie, that's Walter Gregson dead over there. Make sure that my team is notified about what has happened here."

"Yes, sir," the officer acknowledged, although Steve was out the door of Danny's apartment already.

H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~

Steve waited in the hospital corridor for Doc Bergman's initial report on Danno's condition. Danny had not regained consciousness during the trip to the ER. Riding in the ambulance with him, Steve was somber, allowing the paramedics to have all the quiet they needed to concentrate. Seeing the urgency in their methods terrified him of what news he might hear at the hospital.

Shortly after Chin and Ben arrived to join Steve at the hospital, Doc emerged from the examination room. "Is he going to be all right, Doc?" Steve questioned.

Clearly reading the expected anxiety and apprehension on Steve's face, Doc could truthfully only give a neutral answer at this point. "It's too early to tell, you know that. You've been with him. He's bled out a lot. A serious wound like this just leaves too many unanswered questions until we get him into surgery. We're prepping him now."

Steve pressed on. "How long do you think the surgery will take?"

Exasperated with Steve's pushiness, but understanding of the concern of the close-knit group of men before him, Doc tried to reassure them gently while still being honest in his evaluation. "I don't know. Most of the night, I would imagine. I've asked another surgeon to join me in the operating room. We won't know until we open his chest just how much damage there is. Can you tell us anything more about how the shooting occurred?"

Steve sighed and started describing what he thought might be helpful. "I didn't see him get shot, but I know he was shot with his own .38, which Gregson had gotten away from him somehow. Danno was defending himself with his .22 caliber pistol. I heard the gunfire from the hall outside the apartment, and one of the shots was muffled," he commented. Chin and Ben hung on every word as each could see in his mind's eye the confrontation between Danny and his sworn enemy.

"Unfortunately, I think I can explain the muffling of the shot, gentlemen," Doc added. "Danny's gunshot wound was inflicted at almost point-blank range. Even with all the blood loss, I could see clear evidence of substantial gunpowder residue on his clothes and even in the wound."

Steve's jaws clenched at the news, as they all fell silent as the seriousness of Dan Williams' injury sank in.

Sensing the rising tide of gloom in the men before him, Doc tried to temper the weight of the discussion. "Look, I know you're all going to be planted in the waiting room for quite a while, so if I get a chance to send you updates, you know I will."

Just as Doc was about to turn to leave, Steve spoke up, though quietly, "Doc, one more thing. Did he wake up any more after we got him here to the ER?"

"No, Steve, he's been unconscious since his arrival, but it's not surprising. And the anesthesia may have already started by now, so you won't be able to see him before the surgery, I'm sorry to say."

Pausing in thought, Doc Bergman brushed back his own wavy hair in a move reminiscent of Danny's own nervous habit and allowed, "I've grown quite fond of Danny." Piercing McGarrett with direct eye contact, he said, "You know that we'll do everything we can."

Steve smiled and concurred, touching the doctor on the shoulder of his white medical jacket, "We know you'll do your best."

With a final nod, Doctor Bergman left to catch the elevator to the OR, leaving the others to wait. It was going to be a long night.

H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~ H5O ~

The next morning couldn't come soon enough for the tired team of colleagues. By 4:00 am, Doc Bergman had sent good news from the operating room. The medical team had removed the bullet and meticulously repaired the damage. Danno had broken ribs from the impact of the bullet and lung damage with bleeding into one of the lungs. He required intubation and would be on a ventilator for a while. The doctors had been pleased to guardedly project Danno's recovery, in time. Soon thereafter, Chin and Ben headed home while Steve waited to see his colleague.

Later that morning, Danny was wheeled into a regular hospital room following the long surgery and time in the recovery room, and Steve was allowed to join him there. He would have a chest tube in place for a while, and attending nurses and other medical personnel checked on him closely and regularly. Steve paced in the background, uncharacteristically quiet and trying hard to quell his questions and concerns about his friend's medical—and emotional—condition.

When Danny slowly awoke to the very uncomfortable fog that accompanies major trauma and surgery, not to mention pain and the discomfort of the ventilator, his eyes scanned the room uncertainly and winced at the bright lights. Danny's forehead wrinkled up at his distress. He tried to lift his hand up to the ventilator tubing, but the nurse gently dissuaded him from touching it. Then he tried to touch the fresh surgical dressings on his chest. He looked at the attending nurse who had trapped his hand by his side…, then around at his cold, sterile surroundings…, then in the general direction of his boss and friend.

Steve greeted him with a whisper from close by. "Good morning," Steve said softly, and then thought he shouldn't sound so chipper. He could clearly see that Danny was in pain. "I'm here, Danno."

Although he could not speak due to the ventilator, Danny stared at Steve with a frightened look. In his most reassuring voice, Steve whispered back, "You're going to be all right, Danno. Doc Bergman's taking good care of you. Gregson shot you, but he won't bother you anymore. The bullet's out, and you're on the mend. You just have to take it easy for a while." To those words, Steve got just a slow blink of understanding, but that was good enough to evoke in the 'man of steel' a slight, tired smile.

Later that day, the ventilator was removed. Steven was thankful as he could see that it was a huge relief to the patient because of the discomfort. In a while, Danny rallied enough to speak softly to Steve, "You came… to my place… just in time."

Steve agreed, "Yeah, I guess I did."

"Thanks." Danny spoke, but his eyes were closed. Steve couldn't tell whether he was drifting back to sleep or just conserving his meager energy. Soon he realized he was not sleeping, as Danny needed to talk, "I didn't kill Walter, did I? I didn't want to…, I mean, I did…, but I didn't…."

"I know, I know. The shots you fired slowed him down, but I was the one who killed him, after he shot you and then fired on me." Danny had been through so much in just the last 24 hours, he soothed gently. "It's not your fault, Danno. He had to know he wasn't getting away."

"Yeah." Danny was quiet for a while, and then opened his eyes to talk to Steve again. "He told me… Jane wasn't supposed to be… his next victim."

Intrigued by the statement, but well aware this was not the time to discuss it, Steve replied, "Danno, I want you to tell me all about what happened in your apartment, and what Gregson said to you, but not now. You need to rest."

Before Danny quietened down again, he said—almost as if he were only talking to himself- "What if… Jane had lived…." Then he seemed to fall back asleep.

It was just as well, as Steve had no response to that sad thought—no way to sooth the memories of a dream that was never to be. He thought of the cruel words that Gregson had said to Danno in his phone call. He remembered the box in Danno's closet-the mementos, the ring, the detachment in Danno's face as he packed it all away again.

So much for his friend to have lived with for so long. You need to rest, and heal.

Steve took a seat to begin the wait for Danny's long recovery—six years in the making. He would be there to help.

Reaching in his pocket, Steve pulled out the keys to his boat, looked at them, then fisted them and smiled to himself. A little sunshine and an ocean breeze will do you good. Not today, but soon, bruddah, soon.

PAU