Chapter Text
***
Till the end of light
I’ll follow you as your shadow
Till the last drop of rainfall
I will protect you
***
Something was bothering him.
Hurting him.
Aching inside of him.
It felt wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.
There was water trickling down his face, and a general sense of wetness seeping through his clothes and skin. His cheek was pressed against something hard and as awareness slowly increased, he realized he was lying on the asphalt, face down, limbs sprawled out in a butterfly-like pose.
Instinctively he rolled onto his back, and all the breath left his lungs as sharp pain erupted from his chest, leaving him gasping like a fish out of water. Disoriented, he tried moving again, and this time could not hold back the groan at the shock wave that rolled through his upper body.
Lesson learned, he cradled one arm protectively against his stomach and waited, taking small breaths in hope that the pain would abate and trying to comprehend what was going on around him.
Everything felt confused, like a jumbled set of a puzzle.
A puzzle that Steve didn’t know how to solve.
His body felt like it had been bruised in every corner, and his head throbbed as if someone had taken a knife to his skull.
He opened his eyes.
Slowly, carefully.
It was dark all around.
Night time?
Cold sweat glistened on his features as he lay there, trying to find a reason for the ribs he knew were broken and the blood he could feel oozing out of his abdomen. It was a stark contrast to the waves of heat coursing through his body.
Steve blinked, trying to focus.
Veils seemed to flutter within his eyes.
There was a door next to him. Or what was left of it. It had been bricked up. A bell was painted over it, with the word ‘freedom’ written on top. Steve looked at it. It was familiar, as if it should remind him of something but in his confused state, the meaning eluded him.
Gradually, his vision cleared but in the weak evening light, little was revealed.
It looked like an alley, dark and littered with trash.
Steve shuddered, struggling not to gag at the revolting smell of piss and rotten takeaways that suddenly assaulted his nostrils.
What was he doing there? He couldn’t tell.
Was he alone? It was lost as well.
His hand rose shakily from the ground, reaching for the back of his head. There was a gash deep enough he thought he could touch bone, and blood running down his neck to stain his already soaked shirt.
Noises came from the roads nearby, ricocheting off the dark brick walls. Loud, too loud, filling his ears and drilling into his brain.
Steve swallowed down the nausea and lowered the hand, patting his jeans pockets for his phone. It wasn’t there, but he tried not to let that discourage him and pressed the same palm against his wounded stomach.
Droplets clung to his lashes as rain continued to fall from the sky, making it hard to see clearly.
Propping himself on one elbow, he focused on the light coming from a lamppost at the end of the alley.
He needed to get there.
Get to the road and call for help.
Slowly, while the world spun on its axis, Steve placed his other hand on the ground and rose to his feet. His seized-up muscles made each movement stiff and jerky, and he wondered if his legs were going to support him.
Lighted windows stretched as perfect little squares along the side of the buildings above him. Their glow was warm, welcoming. For some reason, it made him think of Danny.
Stretching his arm, he reached for the nearby wall and rested his head against it, closing his eyes until he felt steady enough to attempt a few steps.
To his dismay, putting one foot in front of the other proved to be way harder than he’d thought.
Holding his injured abdomen, he staggered towards the end of the alley, stopping every now and then to catch his breath and steady himself. When he finally got there, exhausted as if he’d run a marathon, he leaned forward, his free hand on his thigh, and waited for his vision to stop swimming so he could take in his surroundings.
Rows of nearly identical houses lined each side of the street. Steve knew the island like the back of his hand, yet he couldn't remember ever being there before. Must be the headache, he decided, messing with his thoughts.
A pair of headlights temporarily blinded him as he stood there, making him lose his balance before passing and disappearing down the road. He stumbled forward, almost falling on the sidewalk and grunting in pain when the sudden movement jostled his injured ribs.
His eyesight blurred, making everything fuzzy, and consciousness threatened to slip.
Steve fought, resisting the urge to give up.
Coldness crept over, chilling his bruised skin and seeping into his bones. He shivered as it spread across his body, powerless to stop the accompanying numbness that started to overtake all of his senses.
Driven by a stubborn willfulness, a determination to survive come what may, Steve pushed himself back up and started walking again. He succeeded for a while, but never made it to his intended goal. His feet gave out from underneath him, and he collapsed to the ground as if all the energy had suddenly left him.
Knowing he wouldn’t get up again, he considered crawling.
Even that proved to be too hard to accomplish so he just stayed there on the cold ground as the rain continued to pour down.
And that’s how they found him, lying in a half-sitting position against the steps of one of those identical brick houses, head lolling on his chest.
***
Bright lights.
Voices shouting directions.
Hands.
Touching him, cutting off his clothes.
The claustrophobic feeling of the C-collar anchoring his head.
“Sir? Sir? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?
That’s it, that’s good. You’re in the hospital, we’re going to take good care of you. Is there anyone we can call?”
“D-danny… Danny Williams.”
***
It was 10am on a Saturday when the call came in.
Danny was engrossed in a mind-numbing monster sudoku after having declined Adam’s invitation to join him for lunch.
While Steve had become more social over the years, he’d progressively withdrawn. Sure, he still enjoyed his friends’ company and the occasional night out, but as he had admitted during one of their last cases together, he now jumped at any opportunity that allowed him to avoid people. And that had only gotten worse since he’d found himself sitting alone on Steve’s beach, left behind like a stray thought while his friend went looking for peace.
Truth was, he still hadn’t processed that departure and the giant hole it had left in his heart.
Every day he woke up and did what he was supposed to. Care for his family, put criminals behind bars, and be the best person he could for the people that surrounded him. He had fallen into a routine, boring and predictable, finding out it helped him stay on track and keep his focus. Systems and structures made life easier, and easy was exactly what he needed. Even when it meant completing the grid in the Star Advertiser’s weekend edition he’d been stuck on for over ten minutes.
Mostly, it helped him not to think, something Danny had been striving to avoid at all costs. The goal was to keep his mind busy, challenge it so that his thoughts wouldn’t drift to Steve and life without him.
But when his phone rang and the area code displayed on it was one he didn’t recognize, he couldn’t help wondering if it was him calling, and if this was the day he’d get to hear his voice again after a whole month of silence.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Williams?”
“Yes.”
“This is Rose Davies, calling from the HUP/PPMC—”
“Sorry, I got everything I need,” he replied, annoyed by the interruption.
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t need to sell me anything, I’m all set. The great State of Hawaii provides only the best for its employees.”
He heard the woman’s sharp intake of breath and wondered if he had been too harsh.
“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” she apologized. “I didn’t realize you weren’t local. This is the Penn-Presbyterian Hospital in Philadelphia. We have a patient, uhm… a Steve McGarrett? He asked us to contact you.”
The phone almost dropped from Danny’s hand.
Steve was hurt?
And what the hell was he doing in Philly?
“Is he okay?”
“He was admitted last night, but I can’t really discuss—”
“I’m his emergency contact,” Danny intercepted, his annoyance flaring. “That’s why he told you to call me.”
“Oh... I see.”
She was silent for a few moments, which only managed to fuel Danny’s concern.
“Listen,” he said before she could add more. “I don’t know what’s going on but I’m going to need a little more information here to figure out how fast I need to jump on a plane to the East Coast so I’m asking again: how is he?”
“He’s got broken ribs, a stab wound and a severe concussion,” the woman finally responded. “Police thinks he got mugged.”
“Mugged?” Danny repeated in disbelief, raking a hand through his hair.
Seriously, Steve? Who gets mugged during a quest for peace?
“Okay. Alright, I’ll… I’ll be on the next plane out.”
“He’s in good hands, Mr. Williams. We’ll see you soon.”
“Thank you Rose, I appreciate it.”
There was a part of him that was still mad at Steve for leaving, and that part hated that he always had to be the one to rescue him. But the other part, the one that had stood by his side for a decade and loved him dearly, couldn’t bear the thought of knowing he was hurt and alone, so Danny tossed the newspaper aside and started packing a bag the second the call ended, haphazardly throwing stuff into it while searching for the first available flight to the mainland.
‘Don’t make me come looking for you,’ he had told him.
Should’ve known Steve never listened.
***
“McGarrett, Steve. Where is he?”
Tired after the long flight, stomach queasy from airplane food and anxiety, Danny gave the nurse at the counter his best ‘do not mess with me’ stare.
“Who are you?”
“I’m his—” he started, only to stop short a moment later. Somehow, partner didn’t seem appropriate here. Neither did friend. “I’m his emergency contact.”
The woman nodded. “Room 203. Down the hall to the right.”
“Thank you.”
Despite the need to check on him his pace was slow, hesitant.
Didn’t matter how many times he’d seen Steve hurt, there was no getting used to it.
His step faltered at the doorway, guts knotting in anticipation and concern. It would be the first time they’d see each other since they had said goodbye and even though their feelings hadn’t changed, things had been different between them. Almost tense, in a way.
To this day, Danny didn’t understand the point of leaving, of needing to put an ocean and endless miles between them when Steve could’ve done his healing in the comfort of his own home and surrounded by the family that loved him. Steve, on his part, had seen no other way. That had left Danny to grieve on his own and with a piece of his heart missing that he couldn’t wait to get back.
After standing uneasily outside for a few heartbeats, he opened the door to his friend’s room and let himself in.
Whatever progress Steve had made since he’d left Oahu, it had been wiped out by the assault.
His natural golden skin had sunken to a sallow tone, giving him an ashen look that was scary just to look at. His left eye was swollen, and there were multi-colored bruises on his cheek and collarbone. Head tilted slightly to the side, he seemed to feel pain even when unconscious.
Danny’s eyes slowly traveled over his friend’s body, his overactive imagination easily supplying what the sheets and the hospital gown were concealing from sight.
He inched closer, shaking his head at the injustice of it all.
From what he’d been told by the local PD, they had found him unresponsive and hypothermic in the South Philly area the night before. His wallet, discarded a few feet away, had no money or credit cards in it but his ID was still there, and that’s how they’d found the emergency contact information to call him. Danny didn’t know Philadelphia that well, but it wasn’t exactly one of the nicest boroughs in town, and he wondered what had brought him there.
He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed, his thoughts immediately drifting back to the role reversal that had happened a few months before when Daiyu Mei had tried to kill him.
Remembering how nice it’d felt to have his hand held, he reached for Steve’s and curled his fingers around it. He stayed like that through the nurse’s check-up and until his friend started to stir, looking forward to seeing with his own eyes that he was going to be fine.
But Steve didn’t do anything halfway, so the first thing he did as he started to come to was try to claw the oxygen mask off his face.
“Stop it,” Danny said, gently catching his hand and lowering it back onto the mattress. “That’s there to help you. Just relax, you’re alright.”
Steve instinctively flinched away from the touch, his confused mind tricking him into thinking he was still in danger. His other hand rose shakily in a protective gesture, trying to shove Danny’s away as if expecting more pain.
“Steve, it’s alright, you’re safe.” Danny whispered, his heart clenching painfully at the sight. “It’s just me. Stay still.”
Steve’s eyelashes fluttered faintly against his pale cheeks and he stopped moving, recognizing on some unconscious level that it was a soothing touch and not one meant to cause harm.
He moved his lips soundlessly, failing at producing any sound.
“Hey, wake up. Wake up,” Danny urged, watching his friend try to crawl back to awareness. “Good. Thanks. That’s more like it.”
He smiled when Steve opened his eyes. It had been too long since he’d looked at them.
“There you are. Say something so I know you’re okay.”
“D-Danny?” Steve croaked out through cracked lips. His eyes were glassy with sedation and unfocused with fear and all he could see were blurred shapes, but there was no mistaking that voice.
“Who else?”
He turned his head towards the voice, groaning in pain when the room around him started to swim.
“Don’t move,” Danny cautioned him. “Take it easy.”
When Steve’s eyes finally focused on his best friend’s face he gave him a breathy smile, relieved to see him at his side.
Despite having just woken up, he felt exhausted. Every part of his body felt heavy, and the chemicals in his blood were sucking his ability to keep his eyes open.
Danny picked up on that and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Sleep,” he said softly. “I got you.”
Steve believed him.
He squeezed back and lost consciousness again.
***
When he came to an indefinite time later, Danny was still sitting by the bed. Hands clasped in his lap, head down, he seemed to be a million miles away, brooding over what Steve could only assume was the latest stunt he’d pulled.
Not that he had any time to dwell on it. As soon as his eyes reacted to the brightness in the room his headache spiked and he gulped frantically to swallow down the nausea washing over him.
“My head’s killing me...” he managed to groan when he no longer felt like puking.
Danny stood up, reaching for the switch to dim the lights. “It’s gonna hurt for a while. You have a concussion and a hairline fracture.”
“Got it,” Steve mumbled, slowly opening his eyes again.
Concussion.
That made sense.
It explained why the thoughts in his head kept melting away and he couldn’t keep focus.
His upper lip twitched in pain but the sensation wasn’t as bad as before so he blinked a few times and tried to focus on the rest of his body.
“Did I get shot?”
“You got stabbed, you lucky bastard. In the only place a person can be stabbed without damaging organs.”
Steve didn’t feel lucky. If anything, he felt sick and tired of hospitals, concussions and being used as a punching bag. He reached for the bed controls and raised the upper half of the mattress.
“Where am I?” he asked, looking around the room. “Is this Tripler?”
Danny’s heart skipped a beat.
“What? ”
“Looks different…”
“Steve, what’s the last thing you remember?”
He thought about it for a moment, struggling to recall memories that seemed to fall out of his grasp. “Uhm… I don’t know. The paniolo case. Gold coins stashed in the vic’s property. We rode horses, I hit my head on a rock.” That had to be the reason for the headache and his latest concussion.
Danny dropped back down in the chair, stunned.
The hair on Steve’s arms stood on edge at the shock on his friend’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Danny, please…” The heart monitor started to beep faster as Steve became increasingly agitated.
Sighing, Danny leaned forward and tried to school his features into a mask of calmness.
“Steve, that happened six months ago. You’re in Philadelphia. I’m gonna get the doctor, alright?”
Steve’s lungs seized up and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
“What?” he choked out, eyes wide in bewilderment at the news that he was not in Hawaii.
But Danny was already gone.
Dumbstruck, he sank against the pillows, unable to process what he had just been told. Not only had he apparently forgotten traveling all the way to Pennsylvania, he also had no memory of the last six months of his life.
To be continued...