Chapter Text
Underneath the pile of clothes, dirt, and junk, there was a small, golden medallion that seemed to shine in importance. Danny tried to shimmy further under the house to reach it, drawn toward it in ways he could not understand.
“Danny, what are you doing? Are you napping in the middle of an investigation?” Steve’s impatient voice asked.
There were times when Steve trampled on Danny’s last nerve. This was one of those times. How could he possibly know if this pile of random items was important or not? Maybe it was the evidence they needed to break open the case.
This entire day had been one in which Danny was sure Steve would have been better off if he had stayed in the Navy. Unlike his current team, his SEAL team never questioned him or made him repeat himself. Civilians on the other hand, Steve had told Danny pointedly, seemed to thrive on not listening at all.
“We’ll do as you ask but we aren’t going to obey your orders,” Danny had finally snapped at him during their argument on the way to this crime scene.
“How is that different?” Steve demanded.
Danny could only shake his head, leaving the car, his car, as soon as Steve had it parked. That was when he’d seen the pile of stuff under the house.
As he attempted to crawl beneath the house, he couldn’t help but think that maybe when Steve had been out of the Navy longer than three months, he’d understand the difference between doing as asked versus obeying orders. Or maybe Steve should go back into the Navy where he seemed to imply he belonged.
Or … he could join Starfleet – you know, Danny thought, if it were real. Apparently he’d spent too much time in the hot sun if his internal conversation was any indication.
Danny reached out to touch the small medallion, momentarily disoriented by the flash of light that emanated from it. Must have been a streak of sunshine through the broken slats in the house.
“Williams,” Steve’s voice said, even more impatient and much sterner.
Williams? Steve never called him that. Never.
“Hold on a sec,” Danny said, making sure he had a firm grasp on the golden disc. He began to back out from under the house, reaching down to hold his shirt in place so he wouldn’t end up with dirt all over his stomach. Instead of blue and white striped cotton, his hand wrapped around dark red wool. What the hell? The dirt seemed harder than it had before, the sun shining less brightly.
“Hold on a sec?” Steve’s voice repeated, impatience replaced with strains of anger.
Danny was finally able to gain his feet, waves of vertigo striking him. He reached to steady himself on the house but it was no longer there. Instead he leaned over to brace his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Where was the house? Where was the medallion? Hadn’t he taken hold of it? He looked up to ask Steve, but his questions were short-circuited by Steve’s unrelenting expression. Why was Steve shooting silent daggers at him? And what was that he was wearing? Where were his cargo pants and polo shirt? Where was his weapon?
Danny took a steadying breath before straightening to glance around at the utterly unfamiliar landscape. They were standing on the rise of a small hill overlooking a desolate field. Only minutes earlier they had been a stone’s throw from the beach. He could see Chin in the distance, wearing the same type of clothes but his shirt was gold instead of red. What was going on?
“Lieutenant, have you suffered an injury you failed to report?” Steve demanded.
“Uhmm…” Danny said, squinting up at Steve. He didn’t seem amenable to hearing how Danny was truly feeling, leaving Danny at a loss as to what to do. He was pretty sure this man who looked and sounded like Steve wasn’t going to care that he was fighting waves of nausea and was very likely going to puke on his own shoes.
“Danny?” Kono asked, sounding like herself. She was dressed like Danny and Steve, in a dark red top and black pants. But earlier she was wearing jeans and a sleeveless shirt, like normal. “Are you okay?”
“No, no I’m not. I must have hit my head,” he said lamely, wanting to get away from Steve’s
way-past-aneurism face and tense body language that telegraphed anger, impatience, disappointment.
“Ensign, escort the Lieutenant back to the ship,” Steve ordered.
“Yes sir,” Kono agreed, taking Danny’s hand and leading him further up the hill. “What happened?”
“I have no idea,” Danny said, his head throbbing. There was a buzz in his ears he couldn’t identify, and he felt like he had been divorced from his body. “Why’s Steve so mad?”
“Steve?” Kono repeated with a frown. “The Commander isn’t angry.”
“Oh,” Danny said weakly, watching Kono take out what he thought was a cell phone.
“Two to beam up,” she said into it, compounding Danny’s confusion tenfold. “Ask Dr. Kelly to meet us in the transporter room.”
Transporter room? What the hell just happened? Danny had no time for more near-panicked thoughts as the world around them dissolved and the ground seemed to give way.
TBC