I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all! Poor Steve ... this chapter seems quite unfair on this particular morning.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Chapter Three
"Hiking?" Danny made a disgruntled face which neatly mimicked the one his daughter had lobbed his way from the prior night's disappointing concert fiasco. The coffee cup he'd been happily hugging in both hands somehow found itself plunked forgotten to the table. For a long moment, he didn't say another word as he rolled the unpleasant suggestion around in his mind. Grace was sitting across from him at the kitchen table and on the verge of finishing a pile of pancakes when she announced her preferred plans for the day much to his immediate chagrin. "You want to go … hiking? Today? Seriously, or this some sort of cruel joke?"
"Just a short one, Danno," Grace shrugged while attacking the last of her impressive breakfast. Syrup oozed off the sides of the plate, leaving a sticky mess wherever it had landed. "Maybe Uncle Steve could come? Do you think he would?"
"Steve." Danny slammed his mouth shut before quizzically cocking his head in askance in his daughter's direction. "Now, I know this is a joke ... or maybe it's your idea of payback for the concert being canceled?"
Coming from Grace's lips, hiking was an odd request; inviting Steve out of the blue was another not so subtle hint. Grace clearly had something up her sleeve as a coy smile pursed her lips with a faked thoughtful air. She was also refusing to look directly at him. Instead she focused solely on the gooey mess she'd made with her syrup by trying to blot it with her paper napkin.
"Hiking? Of all things to suggest, why that? Why do you want to ask Uncle Steve to go hiking on our weekend?" He called her bluff, carefully smiling at her happy expression but leery of what was to come. "What did you two talk about last, Monkey? And why does this feel like a total setup?"
"I dunno," she giggled, abandoning the soiled napkin to meet the playfulness in his eyes head-on. Her second shrug was full of that same comical laughter which she now couldn't hide at all as Danno pretended to sternly fold his arms over his chest and waited for her to explain more. She knew precisely what her father's reaction was going to be once she made her statement, and she wasn't disappointed when his mouth dropped open in surprise.
"Uncle Steve promised to show me the petroglyphs."
They were having a long lazy morning with no real plans in mind. However when Danny had calmly questioned what they might do together, he hadn't expected the conversation to take such a drastic turn. What Grace was saying now was beyond mind-boggling and as more syllables fell from his daughter's mouth, Danny didn't quite know how to respond.
"Today seems like a good day. So, why not?" Grace sweetly added. "I bet Uncle Steve would say yes."
The concert had been the original highlight of the weekend and the rest of their time was an open book. Still, a hike was a surprising enough suggestion. But when the import of her words sank in - all of which included Uncle Steve - Danny's eyes bulged.
"Uncle Steve. The petroglyphs. He promised that he take you there? That so-called hike constitutes child abuse in every way known to man. Did he mention the word 'race' to you, too? It's some ridiculous timed event for your Uncle Steve! Even at a reasonable pace, it's in no way a short walk through the park," Danny objected, his rant growing as he rediscovered his tongue while gesturing wildly.
Grace giggled in response as his hands bolted from where they'd been tucked against his body to flail through the air. "Besides, that hike didn't actually end well for Uncle Steve that day. Ropes, broken arms and rescue helicopters, Gracie! That's how it ended and you can ask your Uncle Chin if you need proof."
"But that's why he wants to go again," Grace gushed happily. "He told me about the cool paintings on the wall and I want to see them. Please, Danno? Can you call and ask Uncle Steve if we could go today?"
Biting back a grumble of distress, Danny dutifully checked the time though every fiber of his being was protesting the idea. It was well past mid morning and the sun was shining brightly. They could do any number of other less stressful things. Yet before he could question a better visit to the beach, Grace was interrupting the very thought.
"I don't want to go to the beach and it will be cooler in the park. We could have a picnic," Grace pushed, her counter-argument a sound one. Her fork was down now and her plate empty. Her eyes were full of an earnest plea which indicated just how interested she truly was in the idea. "Besides, I want to see Honu. Please?"
Danny closed his eyes against Grace's ongoing pleas which were now suspiciously sounding like begging. He sighed heavily, resorting to resting his chin in the depths of his palm. He knew that his partner was only working on the Marquis that weekend and would likely jump at the opportunity for some exercise. Steve loved that particular trail and was beyond enthusiastic given any opportunity to show it off. It was special and Danny didn't doubt the genuine nature of the kind offer granted to his daughter. Despite all of that, hiking wasn't personally something on Danny's top ten list, and he was rather surprised that his own daughter had fallen under her Uncle's spell.
"A forced march?" Danny mused pensively, yet his voice had already softened. "Seriously, Monkey? It's child abuse."
"Please, Danno?" Grace had gotten off her chair to lean against his side, her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. "Can you call Uncle Steve and see if he can take us? I can pack up food for a nice picnic. Please? I want to see the paintings."
"The man's a devious Neanderthal," Danny murmured under his breath without heat as he folded to his daughter's entreaty, smiling when he mentally created a certain similarity to the cave paintings in question. "I guess he is at that … besides, I wouldn't be surprised if someone in his family tree probably drew them anyway," he kissed the top of her head, nodding in agreement to her utter glee. "It's probably why he likes to look at them so much; some sort of weird family resemblance."
"What?" Grace sucked her bottom lip in, completely confused by the muffled mumbles eking out from behind Danny's hands, made more incomprehensible by his private chuckling. He had said yes, but she didn't quite hear what he'd said beyond the agreement. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Danny recovered, putting a halt to his offhand mumbling. "Yes, okay. I'll make the call, Monkey," he reiterated before puffing out a few final inaudible words. "Darn Neanderthal that he is. He'll probably eat this up."
Danny was grinning now, too. He would make the call and get their plans confirmed if Steve had the time to spend with them that weekend. "I'll call him after we finish breakfast and see if he's willing to take us on this forced march into madness. Then if he agrees, you can raid the kitchen and see what we need for this picnic of yours!"
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Steve groaned as he shifted his upper body. As dawn approached in earnest, night sounds slowly gave way to early morning birds but the threat of humidity had increased at an alarming rate. The Marquis was damp with night's perspiration which had begun to first trickle down the side of the dusty metal before starting on a path to evaporation. His own shirt was damp from sweat and the cool morning dew, and he shivered uncomfortably knowing he'd be warmer soon. But likely much too warm as the sun blazed higher and hotter overhead.
The battery on his cell phone was long worn down and he could only hear birds and the sounds of distant surf from the beach. He was dreadfully alone and continuing to sweat from both stress and now the rising temperatures as a new day hotly dawned.
"Hey!" Steve swallowed hard, his mouth was sticky-dry and his ankle was a seething block of endless agony. Wriggling his semi-dulled toes did virtually nothing now except to send spikes of pain more firmly up into his calf muscle and knee. He wasn't fully dehydrated quite yet, but he would soon be approaching a desperate place that same day as the airlessness increased in the warm aluminum building.
"Damned tin can," He cursed again, coughing as the acrid smell of motor oil and grease rose from the dirt. The shed was old and had been used for countless years by his father for all kinds of mechanical repair. Lawn mowers, cars and miscellaneous other handiwork, such as carpentry or painting, had been conducted in the place since before he could remember. Paint cans littered one corner and Steve made a face as he realized the myriad of dangers which he lay amongst.
"Gotta clean this place up," he muttered as he squirmed in place. "Damned fire hazard."
In all that time, the shed had never been cleaned out and so, eons worth of filth had built up on its stained dirt floor. Layers of grime caked itself onto ancient, rusty metal walls. None of that had ever been a problem for the men in the McGarrett household until that very moment; not until Steve was forced into laying for hours only inches away from centuries worth of trampled chemicals.
"Hey!" He needlessly tried to shout for help. Perhaps now more fearful than he had ever been as each hour dragged by at a tedious pace. "Hey! Somebody!"
He committed another exercise in futility, but that unfamiliar tendril of fear was beading closer to the surface, just like the old oil stains were as heat drew them to the top of the hard-pack. After awhile, he drifted again, much as he had throughout the night. Sleeping fitfully and then waking with a start had been his norm when dreams or sounds became too much to bear. He dozed miserably in his distress, his right hand clenched around the bunched material nearest his right knee as if he could make the cramped knots leave. He hissed as his thigh suddenly bunched and in reaction, he instantly used the heel of his palm to viciously paw at the bound muscles.
"Come on," Steve murmured soundlessly into the air. All he could smell was motor oil and dank scents of mildew. Though in a way it was still true, his one-time observation that things could be much worse without the luxury of laying on the creeper, now stuck firmly in his throat. Things had become bad enough and he didn't care to dwell on anything else.
Steve's eyelids dipped once, twice and then closed wearily. He was tired, his lower back ached, his ankle burned and the knots in his calf were unreachable. Without warning, his toes curled painfully inside his boot. "Oh man," he groaned as a severe cramp seized his calf muscle to make him gasp out loud.
His eyes flew open in response, but he was unable to do anything to relieve its horrific constriction of muscles made worse by lack of adequate hydration. "Someone's got to come," Steve groaned as he feebly used both hands now to claw up into a seated position. In his pain and anxiety, he pulled and tore on his right leg in desperation. He gained no ground as he tugged; only causing himself more pain when his leg remained obstinately stuck in place. He needed help and he needed it to arrive that very minute as he fell limply back to the padded surface of the creeper.
His eyes closed again, this time to avoid staring at the bland aluminum ceiling which seemed to ripple from the rising temperatures. He could literally feel the heat leaking in from the distant doorway where it swirled towards him on short puffed waves. He shuddered in reaction when the humid draft seemed to purposefully seek him out.
"Please." What he was experiencing was overwhelming and Steve was too drained of energy to even react to the next painful leg spasm. He could only lay there panting in misery until it released him of its own accord. "Please … this isn't … happening. Please."
~ to be continued ~