CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-ONE PAST TEN IN THE MORNING
THE NEXT DAY - DOCTOR'S OFFICE - KING'S MEDICAL CENTER - O'AHU
Height, weight, eyes, ears, nose.
Pulse, temperature, oxygen.
Wearing the familiar blue patterned hospital gown, Danny sat on the sturdy examination table, as a nurse wrote down all of the above. The room was well-lit, the white walls created a clean backdrop and the air carried a faint scent of antiseptic. Medical illustrations and educational materials were displayed on the walls, in an attempt to humanize the space and make it feel more welcoming— which in Danny's opinion wasn't working out that well. His eye moved on to the desk with a computer that likely held the key to Danny's medical history and test results. The shelves above the desk were stocked with medical supplies neatly arranged in labeled containers, ensuring everything would be within reach for examinations or minor procedures.
Those two things were exactly why Danny was in today— an examination and a minor procedure. As he waited on the table covered by disposable paper, Danny stared blankly at the anatomical posters on the opposing wall.
They offered information about various health topics. None of them seemed to capture Danny's interest as much as the diagnostic tools needed for his appointment. Like the blood pressure monitor, stethoscope, and the gleaming stainless steel tray with smaller medical instruments that hinted at an impending procedure.
Dr. Keller, the physician responsible for Danny's care, entered the room wearing his white lab coat, and a digital tablet in hand. Danny couldn't help but wonder how thick his medical file would be in the traditional paper format. It probably would resemble a Russian spy novel.
"Hey, Doc," Danny greeted, attempting to inject a sense of normalcy into the clinical atmosphere.
"Good morning, Detective." Dr. Keller's voice was a calm presence in the room. "How are you feeling?" He asked, placing the digital tablet on the desk.
"Better, I guess," Danny replied, though the uncertainty lingered in his eyes.
"That's good to hear," the doctor remarked as he took a seat and scooted near the examination table. "Are there any changes in your pain levels? Or presence of any new symptoms, like breathing difficulties?"
"No," Danny recounted. "None that I can think of. Breathing's fine and the pain's decreasing, as it should, right?"
"Ideally, yes," Dr. Keller nodded. "Let's take a look at how you're healing then."
Danny lowered the right side of his hospital gown, showing the aftermath of the severe beating evident on Danny's healing, but battered chest. Dr. Keller began the examination by monitoring Danny's vital signs. The stethoscope slid cold across Danny's chest as he was asked to take deep breaths. The doctor listened attentively to the lungs, probably checking for any abnormalities or signs of infection. Then Dr. Keller observed the incision site. Gloved and gentle fingers move over Danny's chest, tracing the path of the eight-inch-long surgical mark. Slanting with precision from below the tip of Danny's shoulder blade to the side of his chest. The stitches, once vital in holding the wound together, were according to the doctor, ready to be removed.
Before doing so, Dr. Keller paid close attention to the areas where the ribs were mended, looking for signs of inflammation, tenderness, or irregularities. "You're healing well," he noted, his experienced eyes discerning the progress.
As Dr. Keller prepared the necessary tools, Danny's eyes lingered on the sterile tray, a reminder of the minor procedure that awaited him.
"This may feel a bit uncomfortable, but I'll try to make it as quick as possible," Dr. Keller cautioned.
Danny braced himself for the painful sensation that he knew was inevitable. Dr. Keller began the delicate task of removing the stitches. Each careful movement was a testament to the surgeon's skill, like a dance of precision to ensure the healing process continued smoothly. As Dr. Keller's gloved hands removed more of the stitches, Danny tensed. The first few stitches came out with a mild sting, but as Dr. Keller progressed, the pain intensified.
"Deep breaths, Danny." Dr. Keller advised, noticing the discomfort that was etched on Danny's face.
Danny tried to steady his breathing as the doctor continued the meticulous task, but each stitch seemed to tug at his healing flesh, causing a twinge of pain that tested his resilience. Danny clenched his jaw, doing his best to cooperate despite the discomfort.
Finally, the last stitch came free and Danny let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Dr. Keller inspected the incision, he seemed satisfied with the result despite the temporary discomfort. "The incision is healing beautifully," he remarked, inspecting the area closely. "Just keep an eye on the incision for any signs of infection, and if the pain persists or worsens, don't hesitate to reach out."
"Will do," Danny said and shrugged the hospital gown back over his shoulder.
"All right, let's take a look at the X-rays of your chest." Dr. Keller said and tossed his gloves in the destined bin. He then approached the light-box mounted on the wall with an array of X-ray films. A subtle hum filled the room as he flicked the first switch, the initial shadows unveiled a snapshot of Danny's chest, frozen in time right after the complex thoracic surgery.
The doctor's experienced eyes moved methodically across the image, assessing those grayscale hues. Danny followed along with his untrained eyes and managed to make out the surgical incision due the placed chest tube, his broken ribs, and the delicate webbing of scar tissue. Each detail told a story of intervention and recovery. After a thoughtful pause, Dr. Keller replaced the initial X-ray with the most recent one capturing the present state of Danny's chest wall. The room was momentarily cast in a soft glow as the light-box illuminated the second image. As the light seeped through the film, an undeniable transformation unfolded before them.
The once visible adhesions and scar tissue had gracefully vanished and were replaced by clean and seamless healing. Dr. Keller's fingers traced the contours of the skeletal structure on the illuminated surface, yet his eyes narrowed in concentration. Then to Danny's relief, the surgeon said, "I mean, this is looking great," a genuine smile curved on the doctor's lips, like a silent acknowledgment of the human body's resilience and the success of medical intervention. "There are no signs of adhesions. The broken ribs are barely visible and neatly aligned again," he concluded and sat back down again on the chair near the examination table. "According to Dr. Damar, the X-rays on your knee looked good as well— no concerning signs."
As the examination unfolded, Dr. Keller assessed the range of motion in Danny's chest and shoulder, taking into account the multiple broken ribs and the impact on Danny's right shoulder's mobility. Dr. Keller's expression became more contemplative as he probably noted the subtle twinges and discomfort that flitted across Danny's face. Confirming, the doctor acknowledged the slow progress in Danny's shoulder recovery.
"The shoulder is a bit stubborn, isn't it?" he said, concern evident in his voice.
"It's been a challenge. The pain's still there, from time to time." Danny admitted, grimacing slightly as the doctor continued his examination. Dr. Keller then turned his attention to the nerve pain in Danny's shoulder, carefully probing the affected area.
"As for the nerve pain," Dr. Keller began. "We could explore alternative treatments to manage the pain effectively. Although I think your physical therapy regimen might be enough to alleviate the discomfort and regain most of your mobility. I've read the reports and your improvement is beating the odds, however, it's not my shoulder. You're the one feeling the pain and enduring the slow, but gradual, process."
"I think I've had my fair share of treatments these past— well— half year," Danny said, counting back the months to the bullet ripping through his chest. "So I'd rather stick to PT, I guess," he sighed, realizing that his road to recovery was still not over.
Dr. Keller, however, offered a reassuring smile. "With patience, Danny. You'll get there," he said and maintained an encouraging tone. "On a positive note, your facial injuries are healing well, and there are almost no visible traces of bruising," he noted, assessing the skin with a gentle touch.
"It's getting there."
"Has your smell returned yet?"
"Yeah, most of it."
"Good, how are things at home? You bored yet?" Dr. Keller inquired with a gentle smile.
"Like you wouldn't believe," Danny acknowledged the reality of his situation. "I've been working from home a couple of hours a day to keep my mind sharp. But I just want to get back out there, Doc."
"Sounds reasonable," Dr. Keller admitted. "How about you start going to the office? Just easing in, a few hours a day, and maybe only for two or three days a week?"
Although going back to work sounded great to Danny, he really wanted to see if he could join the team in two weeks when they planned on taking down Kim Leung during that drug bust. Therefore, Danny raised an eyebrow and meticulous in his approach, he suggested, "How about field work?"
"No— absolutely not," the doctor responded firmly. "I'm not signing off on that just yet,"
Not the answer Danny was hoping for, but he could help to feel a little relieved that he wasn't appointed desk duty until his retirement due his shoulder. "Yet? So you'll sign off, eventually?" He wondered.
"I don't see any reason why not," Dr. Keller replied. "When it comes to that, I want to ensure a safe return to fieldwork, so I'd like you to do a series of official tests— shooting, cardio, lifting," he paused, emphasizing the importance. "With the injuries you've sustained, I think it's crucial to gauge your overall physical readiness for the demands of active duty."
Danny understood the importance of the tests, yet he had some serious work to do if he wanted to pass within two weeks. So he inquired, "You said 'official,' how official are we talking about?"
Dr. Keller met Danny's gaze seriously. "Let me put it like this— you can only return to duty when I sign you a clean bill of health, right? That only will happen after you've passed the tests."
Danny managed a weak smile. "Got it,"
The doctor gathered his tablet and stood up, preparing to leave the room. Before he did he faced Danny once more. "Just see how going back to the office feels like for now, and we'll be in touch soon about those tests."
"Thanks, Doc," Danny said, swinging his legs off the examination table.
"You're welcome. Take care, and don't hesitate to reach out if anything worries you, Detective." Dr. Keller advised and with that, he exited.
PARKING - KING'S MEDICAL CENTER - O'AHU
The sun cast a warm glow on the asphalt as Steve idled in the driver's seat of the Camaro. His fingers rhythmically tapped on the steering wheel, a manifestation of the impatience brewing within him. Glancing at the hospital entrance, he sighed. Then he checked his watch again, thirty-one past ten in the morning. Each second felt longer than the last as he waited for Danny to return from his appointment.
The idea of waiting in the car hadn't appealed to Steve initially. He had insisted on accompanying Danny to his doctor's appointment. However, Danny, stubborn as always, had launched into a spirited argument on the drive over. His hands gesturing emphatically and everything. And after what had felt like an eternity, Danny relented and made a deal.
"Tell you what, next time you have your yearly liver checkup, I'll wait in the car for you."
The compromise didn't sit well with Steve, but he had agreed, though reluctantly. Now, as Steve sat in the Camaro, the irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. He wondered if Danny would truly keep his end of the bargain or if it was just a clever tactic to diffuse the argument.
Finally, the hospital's automatic doors slid open, and Steve's gaze snapped to the entrance. Danny emerged from the building, looking a bit worn but intact. Opening the door, Danny slid into the passenger seat of the Camaro, and Steve immediately noticed the subtle signs of tension in his partner's demeanor.
"How'd it go?" Steve asked, his eyes searching Danny's face for any clues.
"Went all right, I guess— Doc took out the last stitches and said the scans looked great," Danny shared and relief washed over Steve, but it was short-lived as Danny continued, "Doc's not signing off on field work though. He wants me to do a bunch of tests first."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Tests? What kind of tests?"
Danny leaned back in his seat, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Official ones. Cardio, weights, shooting— you name it," his tone reflected a mix of hesitance and apprehension.
Which made Steve's jaw tighten as his concern deepened. He knew Danny's eagerness to arrest Kim Leung, but Steve also knew the toll the injuries had taken. "You think you can pass those tests?" He questioned, eyeing Danny closely.
Danny looked out the car window for a moment before meeting Steve's gaze. There was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "I don't know. Two weeks feels like a tight squeeze," he began. "And I get why the doc's cautious and all, but do I really need to jump through all these hoops?"
"He just wants to know you're up for it. Makes sense, doesn't it?" Steve reasoned, "You've been put through the wringer,"
"I know that," Danny acknowledged. "But he made it sound like a big deal. Like he won't even clear me for the tests in two weeks.
"I mean— you know you can wait a few weeks, right?" Steve suggested, carefully. "You're allowed to take your time. We'll handle Kim. We'll take him down, I promise."
"You find yourself funny?" Danny retorted. "I'm putting away that prick for life, whether the doctor clears me or not."
"You're not gonna ignore the doctors advice, Danny." Steve cautioned.
"I'm not sitting this one out, Steve," Danny declared. "You know you wouldn't, neither will I."
"All right, I hear you," Steve sighed, knowing Danny's stubbornness all too well. "And who knows. Two weeks might be plenty. PT's been going great lately, so I'm sure you'll do just fine. Nothing to worry about." He said uplifting and turned the key.
The Camaro's engine hummed to life and as they pulled away from the hospital, the weight of the upcoming tests hung in the air.
HONOLULU - O'AHU
In the following two weeks, Danny dedicated himself to his physical therapy sessions and the shooting range. Both were an uphill battle for Danny and proved to be a formidable challenge. The shooting range echoed with each shot, but Danny's aim missing under the weight of the physical strain of his shoulder. The treadmill bore witness to faltering strides due to his banged-up knee and with his chest injury, the weights seemed to defy his attempt to lift them with the strength he used to possess. The familiar sting of defeat lingered and the frustration threatened to overwhelm him as he struggled with tasks that were once second nature.
Danny's right shoulder remained the greatest obstacle. No matter how hard he pushed, the nerve pain persisted. Certain movements exacerbated the intensity, causing a sharp sensation and tingling feeling radiating down his arm, like an electric shock. So, with his shoulder continuing to protest and affectionate his performance, Danny doubted his shoulder could heal quickly enough for the demands of active duty. Therefore, each therapy session became a battleground, a test of not just physical strength but also mental fortitude. The physical therapist adjusted the plan, focusing on the specific challenges Danny encountered and Steve joined Danny at the shooting range, training together to return Danny's focus and precision.
Slowly but surely, progress became evident. The once faltering aim on the shooting range improved, though not to the level Danny aimed for. The treadmill, initially a source of frustration, witnessed a gradual increase in speed and endurance. Weights that initially felt insurmountable became more manageable. These results no longer mirrored much concern and Danny felt more confident in passing the tests than he had anticipated.
As the days counted down to the joined raid with the DEA, Danny persuaded Dr. Keller to schedule the official tests a day before the reckoning with Kim Leung. When that day finally arrived, Danny faced the shooting range, the cardio workout, and the weightlifting station with a focused mindset. As he completed each task, he could sense the improvement in his shoulder, even if the nerve pain burned in the background. After the tests, Dr. Keller examined Danny once more. A thorough report would follow through the official channels in the next hours containing the doctor's verdict— whether Danny excelled the tests or fell short of the required standards.
STEVE'S OFFICE - FIVE-0 HEADQUARTERS - O'AHU
Hours after Danny's faithful tests, Steve sat behind his desk. With a furrowed brow, he studied the contents of a brown folder. The report within revealed a raw reality of Danny's physical condition after surgery— the nerve pain abiding the shoulder the most concerning. The second page contained the cracked ribs and deflated lung. It was dated and timestamped right before going into surgery. There was an X-ray film attached. It showcased the fractures, bright white against the shadowed silhouette of Danny's upper torso.
There was a knock on the glass door, and Lou entered, breaking the stillness of the room.
"Hey," Steve said, glancing up from the folder.
"Why the long face?" Lou asked, his eyes catching the weight of the information in the brown folder, and pointed at it. "What's that?"
"Danny's test results," Steve replied, his voice carrying concern.
Lou moved to the chairs facing Steve's desk and sat down. "I have to be honest, I didn't think he would pass."
"You're right, he didn't," Steve confessed, the gravity of the revelation lingering in the air.
Lou leaned back, visibly pressed by disappointment. Not by Danny but by himself for being right about the situation. "Does he know, yet?"
"No, he doesn't," Steve said. "Because the governor graced me the authority to decide whether he can return or not."
"What? She put that decision on you?" Lou's eyes went wide. "That's just cruel, man. You and Danny have history, you two go way back. You can't make an objective decision like that. Besides you can't ignore the doctor's report just like that," he cautioned as concern etched on his face. "I mean, Danny's been seriously injured, Steve. There's no shame in saying he lost a step."
"I know, but he says he's ready." Steve asserted, his loyalty to Danny unshaken.
"Of course Danny says he's ready," Lou emphasized. "We're about to take down the lunatic responsible tomorrow, but you saw him when the paramedics pulled him out of that skatebowl, right?"
Steve's mind instantly went back to that terrible moment. "I did."
"The fact that he's still with us is what people call a miracle," Lou reminded. "Don't take it for granted."
"I know," Steve paused, grappling with the conflicting emotions.
"Then let him retake the tests in a few weeks," Lou suggested kindly. "Give him more time to recover."
"I have to trust him, Lou. If Danny wants to be in the thick of it, I can't deny him that chance. You know I can't." Steve pleaded, silently referring to never sidelining a team member when pursuing a personal vendetta.
"I get that it's a tough call to make," Lou sighed, understanding the complexity of the situation. "And don't get me wrong, we all want Danny back in action, but a miracle only goes so far. We need Danny at his best, not just willing," he gave a supportive nod as he stood up. "I'll leave you to it. Just take some time to think it through, Steve."
As Lou left the office, Steve remained seated, the brown folder open before him. He sighed, realizing the gravity of the decision would determine not just Danny's fate but also the safety of the entire team. The line between camaraderie and responsibility blurred, leaving Steve to make an impossible decision. The past two weeks, Steve, with a heavy heart, had watched his friend give his all. Now Steve sat here with the realization that perhaps the road to recovery was longer than anticipated. His gaze fixed on the X-rays as if searching for answers within the fractures. Steve had all the facts right in front of him and yet he didn't seem to see any answers. Maybe the governor had entrusted him with this decision because of their history. However, the responsibility would weigh on Steve— good or bad.
Then Steve closed the brown folder. His decision made.
— TBC / HAWAIIFIVE0 —
A/N: Thanks for reading, for the lovely and the incredibly kind reviews.
As always, I love reading what you think of the chapter or story in general!
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I'll be back soon with a new chapter :)