Chapter 2

Someone brought breakfast.

Someone brought lunch.

A doctor shone in his eyes. Offered sedatives.

Steve stared apathetically at the wall, barely noticing. Then he cried again. Then he fell asleep from exhaustion and woke up again with nightmares. The whole day passed before him in an unreal way, time transformed into an indefinite concept that lost its right to exist because it simply didn't matter. Everything didn't matter. There was nothing left that meant anything.

A nurse brought dinner. "Commander McGarrett?" she spoke to him and her voice was warm and gentle and that was probably exactly why he responded to it. He turned his tired and irritated eyes towards her and blinked at her.

"You need to eat something."

He shook his head. He wasn't hungry at all, just the thought of food made him feel sick. She smiled sympathetically. Did she not know what he had done to deserve all this dislike?

"Maybe you'll think about it, I'll leave it here," she said and put it on the side cart by the bed. Steve watched her go, irritated by her kindness and fully convinced that he didn't deserve it.

# H50 #

"Uncle Steve, look!"

The voice so clear, so pure and innocent. He turns to her. There she stands, beaming from ear to ear, pointing behind her with her outstretched index finger. He steps next to her and follows her cue with his eyes.

She points to herself. There she lies, her motionless body. Her hair is tangled around his head, her school uniform is covered in blood. He turns to Grace next to him. She's also covered in blood now, running down her temple and face as she stares at him with dead eyes.

# H50 #

With a gasp, his sweaty upper body jumped off the mattress into the vertical position. Hands over his eyes, a pained sob escaped his throat as he realized he would never be able to sleep again without seeing her like this. Her dead eyes and bloodied body would haunt him forever.

"Nightmares?" came a voice from the opposite corner of the room. It was dark and cold and full of evil satisfaction. Steve recognized it immediately. Panic joined his guilt and tightened his throat. "Danny..." he croaked, barely audible in a shaky voice, completely helpless to the situation. What was he supposed to tell him? There were simply no words for what he had done to Danny.

He left the silence hanging in the room for a few seconds. "Is there anything else coming from you, Steve? I'm sorry, Danny. I didn't want this, Danny. Forgive me, Danny. Anything?" the blonde then asked coldly and the coldness of the words spread to Steve's insides. Danny didn't really want to hear any of this from him, he didn't want any excuses, he knew that. He just wanted to hurt Steve and see him suffer.

"I have no right to ask you for forgiveness," he whispered desperately, not daring to look up. He couldn't forgive himself and if it gave Danny even a shred of satisfaction, made him feel better for a second, Steve was willing to take everything on himself and give him that.

"That's right, you didn't! You killed her, do you realize that?! How many times have I told you that your driving style is going to kill someone, but the Super Seal won't listen to that because you're a fucking bastard! You killed her with your arrogance!" Danny spoke slowly and quietly, but with emphasis, and his voice was so cold that Steve suddenly began to tremble.

A heavy breath reached him from the dark corner before Danny continued: "And the only reason I haven't killed you yet is because death would be too good for you! I've thought a thousand times about coming here and putting a pillow over your face while you were in a coma. But you don't deserve to die without even knowing what you've done! Without being haunted by nightmares whenever you close your eyes! Without losing everything you hold dear! Without having to live with the guilt!"

Each of Danny's words felt like a knife stabbed straight into his chest, drilled into his flesh with such an icy coldness that he suddenly realized that he had snuffed out not just one life, but two. The Danny he knew had also died the day of the accident. His body was still alive, but everything good in it that had defined him had been killed along with his daughter, leaving behind a vicious, cold, cruel darkness that no longer had anything in common with his former partner and friend.

He suddenly wished Danny would kill him, here and now. Would press the aforementioned pillow over his face, or pounce on him and beat him to death, or simply shoot him. He would let it happen willingly. But as Danny said, he didn't deserve to be relieved of his guilt. And yet, if someone had put his gun in his hand at that moment, he might actually have turned it on himself.

Danny came closer, stepping out of the shadows into the diffuse night lighting of the hospital room and Steve was startled by the sight that opened up to him. But what did he expect? He had become noticeably thinner, actually emaciated, his gait was slightly stooped, he was leaning on his cane, and his whole appearance had aged by many years. On the right side of his head, a long scar ran through the short hair above his ear. His face was pale, his cheeks sunken, the circles under his eyes deep and dark beneath the even darker eyes that now stared at him from deep sockets, wild and angry.

'Do it, please!' he wanted to cry out, he wanted to beg for release. He saw it in Danny's dead eyes, the desire for revenge, the violent fantasies, the hatred. Everything that seemed to keep him alive. Then he shook his head very slowly, not taking his eyes off Steve's.

"You won't get away with it that easily," Danny hissed to him promisingly, as if Steve had spoken his wish out loud. "I hope you've already read your mail." The blonde was still staring at him, promising him all the evil in the world. "I'll finish you! You'll lose everything that means anything to you, I'll take care of that!" Slowly he withdrew, disappearing more and more into the shadows until he was gone with a click of the door bolt.

The tremors increased, the tears burst over him again and he didn't know how his heart could still beat when it had shattered - again - into millions of pieces after seeing and hearing Danny like that.

Later that night the nurse came back and was about to reach for the untouched tray when Steve turned to her. "Commander, you're awake. You should have eaten something," she said kindly.

He looked at her with big, helpless eyes. "You know… my things, where are they? And do I have… mail? Here?" he asked quietly and haltingly.

She smiled, nodded and then leaned down into the drawer of the side cabinet. She pulled it open and pointed inside. "Everything in there." With that she wanted to reach for the tray again, but Steve put his hand on her arm, but immediately pulled it back when she jumped in surprise.

"Why… are you…"

"Why I'm nice to you?"

Steve gave a hint of a nod.

"I'm not a judge, so I don't judge people. In my opinion, everyone here has the right to be treated properly, and a smile is part of my job," she said quietly, briefly putting her hand on his forearm and then leaving the room with the untouched dinner.

He watched her go. Her kindness felt so wrong and in some painful way worse than everyone else's resentment, because he just didn't deserve it, because he was a selfish bastard, because he killed this amazing, warm, beautiful little girl. And her father with her.

Part of him had wanted to tell him that it was an accident and that he couldn't help it, but he had quickly silenced him again. Yes, he never wanted anything like this to happen; yes, he loved Grace himself with all his heart; yes, he was a good driver and always had the car under control. And yet: Grace was dead and he was responsible.

After a while of inner self-destruction, his thoughts returned to Danny's words and he turned on the light to take a look in the drawer that the nurse had left open. Where once colorful cards with get-well wishes would have been piled up, he now found small and large envelopes, which he took out with a queasy feeling and placed on the blanket in front of him, recognizing at a glance that some of them bore official logos from the governor and the Navy.

But first he looked further into the drawer, discovered his wallet, his key ring and finally his cell phone, with blood splatters on the screen that had cracked several times. Did it still work? The battery was definitely dead and the display was barely readable, but was it completely broken? The next moment he shook his head at his own thoughts. What did he want with that, he scolded himself. Nobody would want to contact him and if he did receive messages, he was sure he didn't want to read them, they certainly weren't friendly to him. He could also imagine what comments would be found on the internet and on social media about the accident and him as the cause.

A shiver ran through him and he looked away, back to the envelopes on his lap. He picked up the first one, a small envelope from the governor's office. He officially announced that the Hawaii Five-0 task force would be disbanded with immediate effect and that Kono Kalakaua, Chin Ho Kelly and Daniel Williams would be given the opportunity to be hired according to their rank at the HPD if they wished. Based on the investigation against him, Steve McGarrett would not continue to be employed by the state of Hawaii and he would therefore be released.

The Seal sighed heavily and reached for the next envelope, this time from the Navy, informing him that they reserved the right to initiate disciplinary proceedings, which in the worst case could end in dishonorable discharge, depending on the outcome of the criminal case against him.

Steve swallowed. Losing his rank and everything, being dishonorably discharged, would hurt him greatly. But he still felt that this potential blow to the neck was something he certainly deserved.

He pulled out a large envelope stamped with the prosecutor's office and opened it with trembling fingers. Of course he had an idea of the crimes he was accused of, but when he read the main points he still felt hot and cold at the same time:

- Manslaughter with a motor vehicle ("Grace! Oh God!")

- Attempted Manslaughter with a motor vehicle ("Danny!")

The dangerous interference with traffic, driving at excessive speeds and everything after that played no role. His vision blurred again as he looked at the terms and saw in black and white what he had done. He had been negligent, had endangered those he should have protected, and now Grace was dead and so was Danny, albeit in a different, cruel and frightening way.

After he had calmed down a bit, he read over the letter and the many legal remedies, noting that although he would not be taken into custody because of his services to the government, his passport had been confiscated and he was not allowed to leave the state . He was also informed of his right to a defense attorney and everything else that didn't mean the slightest to him. He wouldn't run away, he wouldn't try to escape justice.

The last envelope, which now lay closed on his legs, was the thickest of all. A large brown envelope, probably four centimeters thick, from a Honolulu law firm. The previous letters were official evidence of what happened when something like that happened. But this on his lap was personal and Danny's words echoed in his mind.

‚ I'll finish you! You'll lose everything that means anything to you, I'll make sure of that!'

And Kincade & Partners, Attorneys at Law were probably tasked with fulfilling that promise on Danny's behalf.

Steve bit his trembling lower lip and tore open the tab. Danny and Rachel had jointly filed a civil lawsuit against him and were demanding a horrendous sum in compensation for the death of their daughter and additional damages for Danny's injuries and the resulting current expected disability.

It took him a few moments to understand. He knew that Danny didn't care about money and, given the current circumstances, would rather eat a broom than accept ANYTHING from Steve. But that wasn't the point, Steve realized, Danny wouldn't want a dollar of the seven-figure number on the letter for himself. This sum was just to ensure that everything Steve owned would be confiscated: his childhood home, his pickup truck, even his father's Marquis would be taken from him if there was still a few dollars of scrap value left for it. In the end, Steve would be left with nothing, without a place in the world, without rank or name and completely without possessions, and also rejected by all the people he once counted as his family. Fresh tears made their way down his cheeks.

He couldn't help but wonder about Mary. She certainly knew what had happened, Danny would have made sure of that and, as the next of kin, had probably also been informed about his health by the hospital. But how would his sister feel about him now? She wasn't here. Maybe she had written him a message on his cell phone, encouraging him? Or did she no longer want to hear or see him, like everyone else?

Steve looked back at the thick stack in front of him. The cover letter that he had just read referred to the statement of claim and the appendices submitted, which were sent to him for his information. He opened the cover of the folder underneath and scanned the statement of claim to the end, where all the attachments were listed.

Instantly he was overcome with nausea again, he tasted the bitter taste of bile in the back of his throat and if he had had something in his stomach it would have found a way out by now. His right hand unconsciously went into a clenched fist in front of his mouth, his hands began to tremble and he let the folder fall weakly onto his legs.

Danny spared him nothing. Steve knew that it was not standard practice to present all of the documents relevant to the investigation from the criminal proceedings in the civil proceedings, nor to pass them on to the other side without being asked. So Danny must have made sure that Steve received EVERYTHING that would tear his conscience and innermost self to shreds.

The HPD accident report, the expert's report, Daniel Williams' thick medical and treatment file, witness statements, traffic camera evaluations and finally the complete and illustrated autopsy report of Grace Williams were now in front of him and left him in a state of shock. He couldn't watch it, he was sure, he just couldn't. No man could bear that, it was just too much.

Danny must have looked at every picture and read every word!

He closed his eyes, tears welling up through his lids, and he bit the fist in front of his mouth. He had to do it whether he wanted to or not, whether he could or not. Something inside him compelled him to go through the papers. Even if it was just to give Danny that satisfaction; to be able to give him anything at all.

So he read everything. Looked at every picture. It took him hours, interrupted again and again by his own emotional outbursts, crying fits, his pain and the unfulfillable wish that he had died in Grace's place.

##### H50 #####