I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: long chapter .. had to be when Danny decides to rant!
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Chapter Five
"No. Stay awake," Steve argued with himself as he sunk deeper into a dark fugue. He mouthed the words, barely capable of moving his lips as his face creased in painful concentration. "No." Knowing that giving in to sleep would become a terrible mistake, his whisper gained strength as he hoarsely reprimanded himself out loud. "Don't you ... fall sleep. Don't."
He ground the tips of his fingers purposefully into his knee to painfully pry himself back up to awareness. Anger rolled through him and he used it to force his eyes to stay open, hanging on desperately to the dream and hoping it was so much more. The ceiling flickered back into a blurry but very solid state. It had to have been Grace and Steve mentally berated himself for doubting the ghostly visitation because he still felt her soft touch on his cheek. It lingered along with a pleasant scent that out-weighed that of stringent motor oil.
"Gracie?" He unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth to whisper her name, vaguely aware that meant he was certainly becoming more and more dehydrated. Bleary-eyed, Steve idly rubbed the back of his neck where a dull thudding of a dangerous headache had taken up residence. He felt sick and was beyond tired, almost willing to allow the pull of an evil sleep to take him more easily with each passing second.
"Danny? Grace?" He nearly choked their names out in a stunned rasp when he found himself alone, doubting again that he'd felt the soft touch and the promise of help. No, he was sure she'd just been there as the subtle smell of flowers wafted in the air. Steve's gut clenched and he nearly coughed around a shout that died angrily in his throat ... until he clearly heard her again.
"Danno! Help!" She was there and shouting crazily for her father. The tears in her voice were quite real as her words ebbed and flowed from the outside. "The shed … Uncle Steve is stuck ... the car ... Danno, he's in the shed!"
"Danny!" Steve tried to wet his gummed lips unable to relax at the prospect of help having truly arrived. His adrenalin-driven response had his heart beating off kilter in his chest and grew his headache instantly to flare into the epic size of a migraine. None of that was important though as the happy sound of very real voices finally reached his ears.
"Damn it ... Danny!" Groaning against the pain in his head which made his hazy reflection in the Marquis swim even more, Steve painfully levered himself to a half-seated position, ears straining at every distant sound. Sweat had dampened his hair and soaked into his t-shirt at an alarming rate. The shed had to be approaching a midpoint of ninety-five degrees or more, and he was beyond overheated and trembling as an odd chill leaked deep in his core.
Steve coughed and used his arm to sloppily wipe the stickiness of drying sweat from his cheeks. His voice wasn't projecting at all past the body of the old car, but he couldn't help himself when he heard the two voices approaching where he lay mired under the metal frame. Adrenalin spiked, killing any and all desire to sleep.
"Danny! Grace!" He strained to see over the Marquis' trunk and a raspy laugh burst from his mouth when he saw the familiar shape that filled the shed's doorway. "Thank god."
"What the … hell?" Danny suddenly appeared at the rear of the car, his hand gently skidding across it's dusty surface, to leave splayed tracks. Completely speechless, he was clearly stunned by his partner's condition. For a moment, Danny stood stock-still by the rear bumper, trying to process what he was seeing despite what he knew he might find once the realization dawned inside the house. Laying before him and draped limply across the creeper, Steve was a smiling rumpled, filthy mess with both legs disappearing scarily underneath his lopsided car.
"Steve? How … long have you been out here?" He stammered afraid to know the truth, genuinely worried that his friend had suffered some grievous crushing injury. "How … how bad … are you hurt?"
"I didn't … I didn't think anyone would … would come," Steve pushed out as Danny dropped to his knees by his side, his hands rapidly moving over his torso and measuring the level of distress emanating from Steve's pained expression.
"When did this happen? How badly are you hurt?" Picking up speed, Danny's eyes were beyond concerned as he traced Steve's legs down as far as he could reach. His eyes closed in anticipation and he shuddered expecting to at least feel the sticky warmth of Steve's blood despite not having seen any just yet, amazed though when his search came up fairly clean.
"I can't reach far enough to feel your whole leg. Steve, what the hell happened? When?" Over his shoulder, Danny hurtled orders to Grace without really waiting for either of them to answer while he insisted that Steve lay flat on the creeper. "Grace, go to the house and call 911; tell them we need an ambulance and fire department."
"Danno," Steve whispered, a grateful smile playing happily across his face. He was bone-tired and distressingly thirsty, but relieved beyond all feasible belief. Blissfully happy, he watched the blonde head as it disappeared momentarily from view in another vain attempt to see where his long legs ended under the carriage of his car.
"Your legs?" Danny tried again, his head popping up after determining what his friend likely already knew. Steve's right leg was firmly wedged, but he couldn't see or feel anything enough to assess any real damage. "How long have you been out here?"
"I'm pretty sure ... that my right ankle ... is just stuck near ... the jack," he explained on a raspy whisper, mildly amused by Danny's disbelieving reaction. "It happened ... yesterday around five or ... maybe even, six o'clock. So, don't ... take this the wrong way …." Steve wheezed, his hand finding Danny's to relay his utmost relief at being found. Danny's mouth had gaped open as he mentally calculated the substantial block of time in his head, hardly able to believe what Steve was saying by each slowly enunciated word. "… but why ... are you here?"
"Grace wanted to go see the petroglyphs. Your phone kept going to voicemail and … it's not something you would do," Danny replied in a stunned monotone as he distractedly ran his hands over Steve's torso, felt the heat streaming off him in waves, and cursed again as he focused on the trapped right leg.
"Petroglyphs?" Steve whispered, his tired smile actually strengthening. "Really ...?"
"Yesterday? You've been out here since ... last night?" Stuck on a single thought, Danny interrupted him though, his face contorting painfully when Steve simply nodded. "We stopped by because you're never out of touch like this … never. The house wasn't locked up … I didn't know what had happened," he rushed through his explanation, his distress almost on a par with Steve's own. "I was worried," he admitted, allowing Steve to see the gun strapped around his waist to prove just how extreme his feelings had become.
"Glad ... you were," Steve smiled wearily, wincing as Danny found the knotted muscles in his thigh and calf. He groaned when Danny tried to reach further down the trapped right leg, barely hearing the annoyed curses as Danny also failed at being able to see or feel beyond his lower calf. "Don't worry ... nothing's broken ... I'm just ... stuck."
"Only stuck? Well, guess what ... I'm still worried!" Danny blurted the truth out as he glared uncomprehendingly at Steve's predicament and ongoing ability to dare to smile. "Don't worry, he says! Are you sure nothing's broken?" he asked, the monotone disappearing as stress took over. "I can't reach or see too much. And why are you smiling?"
"Stupid freak accident … the jack slipped …. I got stuck," Steve muttered, then carefully added his frightening realization in a hushed whisper. The simplicity of his description did nothing for Danny's state of alarm which only kept the crooked grin on Steve's lips. "I really thought I'd be here 'til Monday; and it's really hot now. I ran out of options, Danno."
"Shit, Steven!" Danny's eyes widened in astonishment, now horrified at the threat of that actually having happened if Grace hadn't come up with her suggestion for a hike. "It's been hours already; anything could have happened. You're a damned trouble magnet! You know that?"
"Yeah." Raspy and dusty-dry, Steve laughed out right in agreement. He coughed dryly, and then laughed again. Danny's eyes-narrowed a millisecond before his entire face darkened. Things were bad enough with his best friend stuck under a tank of an old car, not to mention the small shed itself, which was a cloyingly airless cell. In just the few minutes Danny had been there, he had already found the quarters too close and beyond stifling. His ire rose exponentially as Steve smirked and then actually laughed at him.
"I fail to see what's so funny here, Steven," Danny ground out between clenched teeth.
"Just ... well, nothing. I'm really fine, Danno. I'm only a bit ... stuck," Steve soothed around a smile that left him breathless when Danny paled as too many upsetting thoughts cascaded though his brain. Within seconds, he was vocalizing almost each one much to Steve's ongoing delight.
"Fine? You call this fine?" Danny's jaw worked from side to side for a number of minutes before he pursed his lips in total disbelief. "This is not fine, Steven! You have a two thousand pound car on your leg."
"They're coming," Grace said, reappearing by the trunk of the big Marquis just in time to hear her father's upset words about the size of the impressive car. "Uncle Steve? Are you hurt bad?"
Her eyes were continually welling with tears by the sight of his sweat-streaked dirty face and the obvious fact that something had happened while he was working on his old car. Despite his smile, she stared warily at his legs and how they disappeared from view, not quite able to ask the obvious question because she was afraid of the answer.
"I'm just stuck, Gracie," Steve replied evenly, stopping to vainly dampen his dry lips. "My ankle is wedged tight ... on something ... and since there's not enough room to see ... I can't get out without help. So, I can't tell you ... how very happy I am ... to see you. We'll go hiking next time."
"Steven," Danny clenched his fists, daring his partner to say just one more time that he was merely fine. He pouted, grimaced and then pointed towards the long length of the heavy Marquis.
"There is a car on your leg," Danny hissed under his breath. "It's an oven in here. This looks a bit worse than stuck to me."
"Calm down," Steve whispered back just as cocked his head meaningfully towards Grace. His next words were meant for both father and daughter as their mutual concern escalated. "Seriously. I'm sore and thirsty, but I'm okay. Now that you're both here … I'm really fine."
At a loss of how to help, Grace was vacillating weirdly between terrified and amused as her eyes flew from one to the other. Anything she wanted to say never got beyond the tightness in her throat.
"So, tell me. How was the concert?" Steve fought for a common ground and a happier conversation, but much to his consternation, Grace's distraught face fell even more. His smile wilted in kind and his eyes widened when Grace looked like she might truly burst into tears.
"What did I say wrong?" Steve hoarsely whispered to Danny.
"It was canceled," Danny growled out softly. His fingers fisted together spasmodically for a moment as an uncomfortable silence added to the stifling volume of heat in the shed. "The concert was postponed ... until further notice."
"Oh, ummm, …" Steve winced in response, but he'd begun the terrible path and so he continued. "Wow, I'm sorry. Why? What happened?"
"Laryngitis," Grace whispered, still upset and swinging wildly between a number of arguing emotions. "She can't even talk, so they canceled the concert. Danno says we'll go once it's been rescheduled."
"Well, that sort of thing happens," Steve offered lamely as he peered into Danny's reddened face. "Right?"
"Just a like a car falling on your leg? Like that sort of thing just happens?" Danny muttered under his breath, tension blatantly leaching across his face. His eyes squinted narrowly as he watched a bead of sweat trace down Grace's cheek. In similar fashion, his back was drenched under his shirt and he rounded once more on his partner driven by a terrified concern. "It's an oven in here, Steve. It's hotter than hell, babe."
"I know, but ... calm down," Steve whispered softly for a second time. "Just … I'm glad you're here. I'm glad that you're both here, Danno."
"Yeah," Danny nodded. "We are, too." Without actually looking at his daughter, he beat down his worrisome instincts to finally sigh in some type of acceptance to regain his focus. "Okay, okay," he muttered, backing off his verbal tirade and lowering his voice for Grace's sake. He took a deep settling breath and then completely changed gears.
"I'd like to get this car off your leg, but we're going to have to wait for at least the EMT's to get here. Just in case … you're not … you know … not entirely fine. How bad does it hurt?"
"It … hurts," Steve admitted, pointing over his head and towards the water bottle which sat so teasingly on the long worktable. "But water … I really need to drink something. Now."
At the desperate request, Danny lurched to his feet, newly upset to see the unopened water bottle and the cellphone so far out of reach from his partner's hands. Though he was far from happy, what he was seeing easily explained everything. "You're dehydrated already."
"Probably. Yes. My legs are cramping and my back. My ankle's on fire from being in the same position, but I don't think it's actually broken. I'm hot. Need water … need a drink. Something. I have to get out of here, Danno," Steve's voice ended on a raspy plea as his physical woes came to the fore. He was tired of being tired and exhausted by being unable to move.
His smile remained genuine, though now he was aiming it pleadingly in Danny's direction and not just for the water bottle retrieved from the shelf. He wanted out from under the Marquis and he wanted it that very minute despite the faint sounds of sirens he was already hearing in the distance.
"Do we have to wait?" Steve knew the answer since he'd make the same decision in Danny's position. He didn't think his ankle was broken or even bleeding, but with the volume of pain so much worse as each minute ticked by, even he wasn't sure anymore.
"Yeah, we have to," Danny softly confirmed, an arm now around Steve's shoulders to support his seated position. Heat radiated from his body and Danny scowled, but didn't dare do more until additional hands arrived to help. EMT's or fire department - Danny would work with either entity arriving first. "It won't take long, and we're not taking any chances." He thrust the water bottle into Steve's hands, trusting that his friend would drink slowly.
"God, that's better," Steve said after a number of small methodical sips of water, more content now that help at truly arrived. The water was warm, yet it was clean and refreshingly wet so he could honestly care less about its ambient temperature. As Danny propped him up, muttering nonsensical worries and sighing plaintively under his breath, everything was suddenly truly fine.
Steve leaned into his friend, smiling since their arrival was all enough to calm his heart which was finally clawing itself back down to its customary beat from its rapid race. "Thank you," Steve whispered with a sigh that completely released hours worth of tension. "My head hurts," he admitted as fatigue started to get the better of him once more. He suddenly wanted to sleep again and wilted after whispering the truth. "I'm tired."
"Lay back down and rest. But try not to fall asleep," Danny quietly urged as Steve's upper body sagged in his arms and his eyes wearily closed. "Neanderthal, you're dehydrated and anything could have happened," he whispered just loud enough for Steve to hear, managing to grin when Steve chuffed a small pleased sound. Within seconds, the sirens were definitely within Steve's neighborhood and the increasing noise spurred Danny to more action.
"Just a few more minutes, then you're out of here." Danny left his hand on Steve's shoulder to keep him in place as he gestured Grace to his side. "Monkey, come here and stay with Uncle Steve. Hold the water bottle in case he needs more."
"Where are you going?" Steve forced his eyes open, not really realizing that they had closed in the first place.
"We need a second jack and I'll bring the medics to the shed. I'll be right back … I want to get the jack from your truck or my car so we're ready once the EMT's give the okay," Danny smiled reassuringly, with a final settling touch to his shoulder. "Don't want to waste any time getting you out of here, partner. I think you'd agree?"
"Yeah. Okay." Steve relaxed, sinking into the padded frame of the creeper. Grace was holding the water bottle and had already taken Danny's place, but her expression included her father's disapproving frown down to the quirky tilt of one eyebrow.
"You could have gotten really hurt," Grace whispered as her father left them on a fast run. "It's hot in here, too." Her eyes were liquid brown and full of a frightened worry all on his behalf.
"I'm perfectly okay," Steve vowed, taking her hand in his though he was grimy from working on the car and his long overnight stay. Her presence kept him focused and more alert, largely since she was so very upset. "Especially now since you and Danno showed up. I promise."
"You're really dirty," Grace whispered as if filling him in on a big secret. Her clean fingers were now marred by smudges of dirt but it made her smile and she clung to him more tightly. Her nose wrinkled cutely as she measured his sweat-stained face and the lines of black smudgy grease he'd inadvertently rubbed across one cheek and his forehead. "You need a shower, Uncle Steve."
"You think so, Gracie?" Steve grinned back as she provided a solemn nod. With the throb of his headache momentarily forgotten, he laughed, squeezing her fingers gently in his. "I think so too."
Just the thought of a nice shower was a luxury and he could barely wait for the real thing as the sweltering heat increased around them. Even Grace's face was shining from the humidity in the enclosed space. With his mouth merely moistened and his headache banging relentlessly behind his eyes, Steve didn't want to consider what might have happened if the two hadn't shown up when they did.
"They're here!" Her eyes widened happily when the sirens finally wailed to a stop from the front of the house. Within minutes, Grace was scooting out of the way for the two EMT's and for her father who had two spare car jack's in each hand. He had also pilfered their picnic lunch for the sports drinks purchased at the local deli. Steve desperately needed the electrolytes and Danny grinned at the grateful murmur of never-ending thanks after he plunked the bottle into his friend's waiting hands.
"Take your time with that," he admonished before ushering his daughter towards the shed's door. "Grace, wait outside until we're done," Danny ordered much to Grace's dismay. She tried to object, but was easily overruled as the two medics swarmed either side of Steve to prove her father's case. "There's not too much room in here, Monkey, and the medics need the space to work."
"This looks like fun, Commander," one EMT remarked dryly as he hunkered down over Steve's body. "I bet you're about done with this old car - in more ways than one?"
"You have no idea how done I am," Steve said as he offered his arm for the requisite blood pressure cuff and quieted as the EMT anchored a stethoscope to his ears. The second EMT was already swabbing his free arm to run fluids based upon temperature in the shed alone.
"He's dehydrated, but his vitals aren't too bad considering how long he's been trapped," the man remarked to his counterpart before the two eyed the disappearing right leg blocked firmly under the car's undercarriage. "A couple more hours like this though and you'd be in a boat-load of trouble. Headache? Cramping? Can you at least wiggle your toes on your foot?"
"Yup, to all of the above," Steve affirmed, wincing as the movement of his toes created a reactive muscle cramp in his calf. He paused to take a minuscule sip of the sports drink. Even a small amount soothed his throat and moistened his tongue just enough to remove layers of cloyingly dry stickiness. "I'm really thirsty ... bad headache ... and I'm tight from being stuck so long in the same spot."
"Alright. I can't see or feel anything under there, so let's get this done," the EMT nodded towards Danny, giving him permission to set the second jack to lift the car enough so Steve could be extricated. "Unless you want to wait?"
"Not waiting," Steve affirmed first. His hand flailed towards Danny who was already moving. "Do it. Just do it."
"Okay. Go slow and steady so we can assess along the way," the EMT said to Danny. "Let's make sure nothing else shifts in the wrong direction." His next instructions were for Steve as he made himself absolutely clear.
"But you; I don't want you to do a single thing during any of this," the warning finger was aimed directly in Steve's face. "We need to make sure their's no other injuries and you could do yourself more harm than good if you try to help. Just let us do all the work until we see where you're at."
Compartment syndrome were two frightening words which came to mind as Danny listened to the medics' patter while multitasking. Amputation came next and then distressingly Danny pondered a frightening spray of blood as an artery was breached.
"Damn it," Danny scolded himself under his breath as every extreme scary thought flittered alarmingly through his mind. Another vision had the old Mercury Marquis lurching like Stephen King's possessed red Plymouth Fury, Christine, to squash his own head and shoulders under its big mass without a shred of mercy. The medic was quite right about going carefully to avoid a disastrous shift in the large vehicle's bulk. In reality, some relative form of danger for any of those scenarios was very real and Danny was anxious as he focused on locating a solid base to lay his second jack. Most of all, he was worried that Steve was downplaying his predicament; unable to stop other scary scenarios from leaking to the fore where Steve's lower leg would be literally mangled beyond repair once the old Marquis was lifted high enough.
"Almost there," Danny said, his voice muffled from where he lay under the elevated portion of the front-end. He was squirreled on his chest, pushing and fitting the second car jack under what he thought was a decent part of the metal frame. He prodded and grunted uncomfortably, inhaling the pungent stench of old motor oil and musty dirt. Within a few short minutes, he was already coated in sweat and dried muck as he made his fingers ensure the jack was seated solidly.
"Ready," he finally announced, shimmying out to kneel with his eyes flickering worriedly from Steve to those of the medics. "I don't think we need more than a few inches of space and then you two can use the creeper to do the rest."
"Perfect idea, go for it. But slowly," the older medic agreed as took one side of the creeper and his partner the opposite. The two nodded as one as their strong hands closed around the black metal framework and Danny grasped the bar to the new jack. "We're ready on three."
~ to be continued ~