Sympathy for the werewolf | By : mermaidnz Category: G through L > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) > Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Views: 3441 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The first thing Danny does when he gets home Monday is call Mary, telling her that Steve woke up and doesn't seem to have suffered any serious neurological damage. He leaves a similar message for the Governor, then contacts Chin and Kono. His teammates are driving across the island to visit one of Chin's old C.I.s, but Kono says they'll stop by the hospital later.
Next, he opens his laptop and looks up the lunar cycle. As Steve had signaled, the full moon is due on Saturday night. Danny doesn't know whether the seven-day course of pills is supposed to end at the full moon, or the day before. Either way, Steve should have started taking '2912' sometime over this past weekend – and now it's too late.
But Steve was unconscious, intubated, and receiving a cocktail of intravenous drugs at the time. So Danny can't see how he possibly could have gotten the pills into his system. Just trying to do it could have killed Steve, or made his condition far worse.
Maybe it's rotten timing, rather than being Danny's fault. Still, he feels sick to his stomach. If he'd recognized the problem earlier, the looming deadline wouldn't be quite so tight.
Danny pulls out the Yellow Pages and calls a bunch of local construction firms, asking if they could do a rush job starting tomorrow. The recession has reduced demand for their services, so he finds a couple of contractors who are available and arranges to meet them at Steve's later today to provide a quote. Danny also phones a few home security companies, and runs through the same process. There's only one that can meet his deadline, so he asks a representative out to the house too.
While he's taking a quick shower to wake himself up, Danny figures out how to explain this sudden renovation project to people. By the time he's out of the bathroom, shaved and dressed, he's got his cover story sorted.
It goes like this:
Five-0 and HPD are no closer to identifying the shooter. Even if they do catch him, there's a good chance he's just a lackey working for someone else. Steve sure does have a knack of making enemies out of powerful criminals who hold grudges.
So Steve's house needs a safe room, in case of further attack – and, naturally, it'd make sense for it to double as a temporary holding cell for any captured intruders. Then there are all those bullet holes from Five-0's shoot-out with Nick Taylor's men, almost two months ago. Steve's been too busy to organize contractors, having turned down Kamekona's offer to put his brothers on the job, and never got around to doing it himself. So they might as well get that damage fixed up at the same time, while adding some extra security measures.
And Danny can truthfully say that they're having the work done immediately so that Steve can be safe once he's out of hospital. Hopefully, anyone who's curious will care more about Steve's survival than anything else.
The two contractors and the security consultant meet Danny at the house that afternoon, and he outlines the urgent need for defensive strengthening. Steve's a high profile figure in Hawaii, and Friday night's shooting made the headlines. So they all nod understandingly.
Danny describes Steve as his partner, has a key to the house, and knows the alarm code. The three men seem to assume that he and Steve are in a relationship; since that suits his purposes, Danny doesn't correct them.
They tour the house and basement, Danny explaining his requirements and the security expert adding some suggestions. One of the contractors admits he'd have to take on extra laborers to do the job, and can't guarantee that it'd be done by Friday. So Danny picks the other guy, who says his existing team is large enough to work round the clock in two shifts.
The second contractor names a scarily high price, and Danny agrees without even trying to bargain him down. This project needs to happen ASAP, and he wants workers who are highly motivated.
***
Danny returns to the ICU around sunset, and finds Chin talking to Steve.
When Chin glances up and sees him, he breaks off mid-sentence. "Hey, Danny. I was just reminding Steve about the glory days of Kukui High football."
"Oh yeah? Yours or his?"
"Both," Chin says, smiling slightly. "I figured it was only fair, seeing as he can't tell his own stories right now."
Danny pulls up the second visitor's chair and looks at Steve, who's reprising his role as Sleeping Beauty. "Has there been any change?"
Chin shakes his head, serious again. "He's been unconscious since you left. Dr. Young said he got too agitated; he'll have to stay sedated 'til he can breathe for himself."
"Yeah, that makes sense. I'd sure as hell panic if I woke up with a tube down my throat." Danny pats Steve's arm consolingly, in case he can hear them, before turning to Chin. "Where are we at with the investigation?"
"Not much to report, sorry. Kono's gone over to liaise with HPD, and see if anything's been found in the alleyways. And none of my contacts have reported any talk about an assassination attempt on Steve."
"So our theory about a low-level scumbag with big dreams might be off," Danny says. "Why take such an insane risk for the bragging rights, if you keep your mouth shut after?"
"Exactly," Chin says. "It's looking more like the gunman is a lone wolf" – Danny does his best not to flinch – "or part of some organization that's good at keeping secrets. But I'll go talk to a few more people tonight, just in case."
Chin stops, and looks at Danny's shirt quizzically. There are smears of dust on the sleeves from poking around in Steve's basement. "You've been busy too, huh?"
Danny lays out the renovation story for Chin, doing his best not to show any of the standard signs of deceit. It's hard enough to lie to a friend; lying to an experienced detective is even worse.
"Steve asked you to do all that?" Chin raises one eyebrow. "I get the why, but: how, exactly?"
"It took effort, believe me," Danny says. "We both know some sign language, luckily. Also, we worked out our own system of non-verbal facial cues a while back. You know what it's like on an all-night stakeout...you'll do just about anything to pass the time!"
Chin nods, obviously very familiar with the mind-numbing tedium Danny's referring to.
"I can see how it'd help to have a practical project right now," he says, and Danny gets the impression he's choosing his words carefully. "But make sure you get some rest too, okay? You'll be no good to us, or to Steve, if you keep running on empty like this."
The expression on Chin's face is sympathetic and understanding, and Kono had looked at Danny the same way on Friday night. Shit. Clearly the two of them have figured out that Danny is head-over-heels for their boss; hell, maybe they even assume that he and Steve are already together on the sly.
Even a week ago, it would have freaked Danny out to have them know something so intensely private. He's always kept his orientation a closely-guarded secret, and he's tried to repress his feelings for Steve. Thinking strategically, though, Danny realizes that this could be a positive thing. If the others assume he's half-crazed with worry over his partner, they might be more willing to excuse any odd behavior he exhibits in the lead-up to Steve's transformation.
Anyway, Danny's pretty certain he can trust Chin and Kono. They generally seem to be 'live and let live' types; he doubts they'll turn on him like some of his Jersey colleagues would have if he'd come out.
So Danny sighs, and says, "Yeah, I know. It's just hard to sleep when he's still in danger."
"I hand-picked the list of HPD officers assigned to guard duty; they're good guys, and I'm sure they'll keep Steve safe," Chin says. "So maybe you should go home tonight. It must be noisy in here, with the nurses stopping by and all these machines beeping away, and that cot can't be comfortable."
Danny nods. "My back has been sending me increasingly angry memos about it."
"Hey, my niece is a massage therapist," Chin says, "one of the best on the island. I can give her a call, see if she could fit you in today or tomorrow. My treat, yeah? But only if you promise to sleep in a real bed tonight."
He might love Steve, but right now Danny could just kiss Chin. "God, that'd be fantastic. Thanks, man."
Chin makes good on his side of the bargain immediately, setting up an appointment for 10am Tuesday and asking his niece to send him the bill. Then he points at the door with a stern expression.
For the first time since the shooting, Danny laughs. "Okay, okay – I'm going."
He normally tries not to show his affection for Steve in front of other people, but now he has the perfect excuse. So Danny squeezes his partner's limp hand, and tells him, "I gotta go now, babe, but I'll be back tomorrow. Sleep well."
Chin smiles at the two of them, no judgment or derision on his face. Danny smiles back, and leaves the room.
***
Danny doesn't go home, of course. The contractors are due to start at 8am tomorrow morning, and he has to make sure that everything's ready. So when he gets back to Steve's house, Danny heads down to the basement and looks around. If everything goes to plan, there will be a werewolf pacing around this room in five days' time.
It all feels like some fucked-up dream.
Lycanthropy had seemed so fascinating, as an abstract concept, when he was doing all that research in the wake of Taylor's attack. And even after Steve had come clean, Danny had felt sympathetic rather than fearful.
Because when it came down to it, he'd always known that Steve was potentially lethal. The guy's his closest friend, but he's also a highly-trained soldier who could kill Danny with his bare hands. So learning that some of Steve's impressive abilities were supernatural in origin, and that one moonlit night four years ago he'd had claws instead of fingernails, hadn't really made much of a difference.
Now he's faced with the horrifying reality: not only is his partner going to turn into a monster, but Danny's the sole person on this island who knows it. All the promises he made back in November are being tested to the limit. Steve is relying on Danny to keep it together, keep his secret, and keep everyone safe.
...oh, fuck. Gracie.
Danny had said that he would trust Steve with Grace on the full moon, and he'd meant it wholeheartedly at the time. But he suddenly realizes, with a sinking heart, that she's due to stay with him this coming weekend.
Normally Danny would move heaven and earth to avoid canceling on his daughter – he sees so little of her as it is. He can't leave Steve alone on Saturday night, though, and he can't risk having her in the house during the transformation. As much as Danny cares about Steve, Grace's safety has to come first.
He needs to give Rachel as much warning as possible, in case she's already made plans to go out of town. Since reception down in the basement is crappy, Danny heads up to the living room and calls her.
Danny explains the situation as best he can. "If Steve gets released from hospital before this weekend, I want to be there to look after him. But I can't do that and give Grace the attention she deserves. And if we haven't caught the shooter by then, Steve might still be a target. In that case, she'd definitely be better off with you."
"I see," Rachel says. "Would you like to swap, then? She can stay here this weekend, and you could have her next weekend and the one after."
Danny exhales, surprised that she's making this so easy. "Yeah, that'd be great. I really appreciate it, Rach."
"It'll work out quite nicely, in fact," Rachel says. "Grace is friends with Marisol, our housekeeper's daughter, and it's her birthday this Sunday. Grace will be pleased not to miss the party."
A few months ago, Danny might have made some sarcastic comment about Rachel allowing Gracie to associate with the hired help. But now, he feels too relieved and grateful to needle her. He winds up the call, thanking her again and promising to keep her updated.
Danny turns the conversation over in his mind as he goes back down to the basement. Rachel was remarkably understanding and kind, not questioning his priorities at all. Maybe it's a sign of the gradual thaw between them...or maybe Danny should add her to the list of people who assume he and Steve are together.
Unlike the others, Rachel knows for a fact that Danny is bisexual. Her open-mindedness was one of the many things he had loved about her. Even during their bitter custody disputes, she never once suggested that his sexual orientation made him an unfit parent.
With that bullet dodged, Danny focuses on the next problem. Jack McGarrett was a real pack rat, so the basement is full of stuff. There's broken furniture the old man never got around to fixing or throwing out, bags of clothes that once belonged to Steve's mom, boxes of files, and God knows what else. Steve and Mary will have to sort it out, but that's a job for some other time.
The construction crew will need to shift all this junk out of here, and there's only one logical place to put it: the garage. So Danny finds the keys to the Mercury Marquis, and carefully drives it out onto the muddy front lawn. He puts the protective cover back over the vehicle to keep the rain off. Steve may bitch at him for touching his father's precious car, but by then Danny will probably be delighted just to hear his voice.
Danny wanders around the house's silent rooms. In the kitchen sink, he finds a bowl encrusted with granola and a mug stained with coffee dregs. This place is frozen in time, waiting for the man who left on Friday morning and never came back. Danny fills the dishes with hot soapy water and leaves them to soak.
When he opens the refrigerator, Danny finds two rib eye steaks that look past their best and a bag of ready-made salad that has gone slimy. He throws it all out.
As there's nothing else in the fridge that appeals, he gets Chinese food delivered. Danny turns on the TV, and watches the news for a few depressing minutes before switching over to some cop drama. It's laughably inaccurate, but doesn't demand anything of his overtired brain.
He goes back to the kitchen to grab a frozen peppermint candy, and notices an unopened pint of cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. It's his favorite flavor, and he knows that Steve prefers plain chocolate on the rare occasions he eats dessert. So maybe Steve bought it for Danny.
Given the day he's had, Danny feels he has definitely earned a treat. He could settle down on the couch, carton and spoon in hand, and binge like some stereotypical chick flick character. Honestly, though, he just wants to sleep. It's only 9pm, but he feels stupid with exhaustion.
Since he needs to be here tomorrow to let the contractors in and give them a spare key, it makes no sense to go back to his apartment now. Danny locks up the house, and heads upstairs. He pauses in the doorway of Steve's childhood room, looking at the narrow single bed. He should crash there, like last time, but right now he needs comfort as well as rest. So he heads into the master bedroom, strips down to his boxers, and slides between the sheets of Steve's bed.
Danny closes his eyes, inhaling his partner's familiar scent. With the covers tightly wrapped around his body, he can pretend that Steve is holding him. It's the first decent night's sleep Danny's had since the shooting.
***
The construction workers show up Tuesday morning, miraculously prompt, and start making a God-awful racket and mess. Danny arranges with the crew's foreman that they'll only do the upstairs stuff during the day; hopefully, the basement is enclosed enough that the overnight work down there won't disturb the neighbors. Extra soundproofing is high up on the to-do list, anyway, because Danny can't risk anyone hearing the howls of a wolf this Saturday night.
After a while, Danny leaves them to it and heads to his massage appointment with Chin's niece. An hour later he walks out of the clinic feeling beaten to a pulp, but so much better. His mood improves further when he gets to the hospital, because Steve's breathing tube has been removed. He still has a feeding tube in his nose, a tube draining fluid from his chest, and multiple IV lines, but it's a major step in the right direction.
Steve wakes up soon after Danny arrives. He slowly turns his head to look at Danny, who is sitting in his usual chair and skim-reading the paper.
"Hey, Danno," Steve says in a hoarse whisper, and Danny grins at him. He never thought he'd be so glad to hear his partner use that childish nickname.
"Hey yourself," he says, leaning forward and laying his hand on Steve's bare arm. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay." But it sounds like every syllable hurts – his throat must be raw from the breathing tube.
"All right, listen up," Danny says. He doesn't know how much time they'll have to themselves, so he dives right in. "It's Tuesday morning. Do you remember what we discussed yesterday, about the moon?"
Steve nods, thank God; Danny could do without a repeat of that awful conversation.
"Well, I've got good news. I hired a contractor to do the renovations, and his crew started this morning. They're going to work round the clock, so I'm hopeful that it'll get done in time."
"Great," Steve says. He breaks off for a brief coughing fit. "Offer cash bonus, $500 each. Look in linen closet."
"You have an emergency stash of money in your linen closet?" Danny says incredulously. "Oh wait, I forgot who I was talking to – of course you do. Because when you're not channeling Rambo, you're Jason fucking Bourne!"
Steve rolls his eyes, and Danny says, "Yes, I know he's Army too. Fine, whatever. I'll find the money, and promise it to the laborers if they meet the deadline."
Danny pulls Steve's newly-charged phone from his pocket and gives it to him. "Okay, next thing: you should call Mary. I've been keeping her updated, but hearing from you directly would really help. She's been so worried."
He hesitates, and then says, "I wasn't sure if you'd want me to tell Catherine what happened, so I didn't. You can decide whether to call her or not."
"Okay," Steve says. His expression doesn't give any hint about the current state of things with Cath. Danny really wants to know, but he has bigger fish to fry.
"We're still looking for the shooter," Danny tells him, "but we honestly have no idea who it was. Do you remember something about Friday night that might help?"
When Steve shakes his head, Danny persists. "Did you pick up anything off the guy?"
"I drank too much," Steve admits. "Guard down, senses dulled. But he's not like me...would've smelled it."
"That's good to hear, at least." It had occurred to Danny, at some point during his weekend vigil, that another serviceman bitten in Afghanistan might have decided to punish Steve for breaking the Pentagon-imposed pact of silence. So it's a relief to know that he's only dealing with one werewolf, not two.
***
Even with his enhanced healing ability, Steve's still pretty weak; he needs to rest if he's going to get out of hospital in time. Danny leaves him to sleep, and heads over to HQ.
Despite their combined efforts, HPD and Five-0 haven't been able to narrow down a list of suspects. Their only criteria so far are 'kinda tall', 'athletic', 'proficient with firearms', and 'probably male'. Telling them the perp isn't a werewolf will hardly help. So, once he's passed on the good news about Steve, Danny keeps his mouth shut and listens as Chin and Kono get him up to speed.
None of the crime scene evidence is yielding decent leads. The perp didn't leave any fingerprints on the shell casing and bullet, and the ballistic data won't be much help until CSU have an actual weapon to test.
HPD's tech guys have checked all the surveillance footage from a four-block radius of the restaurant. One of the traffic cameras catches a guy matching the description Danny provided, walking towards the parking lot an hour before the shooting. But his face is concealed by a baseball cap, with the hood of his rain jacket pulled up over it. They can't even identify his ethnicity, as there's no bare skin to be seen. His gloves are as black as the rest of his outfit.
Nobody matching the gunman's description shows up on any of the surrounding streets after the shooting. It's as if he ran into an alley and just vanished – into a safe house, a vehicle, or even the sewer tunnels. HPD are doing extensive legwork, searching the whole area, but they've found nothing yet.
Chin's talked to every informant he knows, but has heard no underworld chatter about a plot to kill Steve. Plenty of criminals are apparently happy that someone came so close to succeeding, but Danny's been a cop too long to be surprised by that.
Kono and Chin have been working their way through the taskforce's past cases, assessing whether any of the people Steve's taken down had relatives or friends likely to retaliate. The problem is, most of the bad guys Five-0's arrested or killed were part of a wider network of bad guys. Any one of those assholes might want to shoot Steve, and might just have been smart enough to keep his mouth shut afterwards.
"At the risk of expanding our suspect pool even further, I think we might have overlooked a couple of possibilities," Danny says. Chin's shoulders slump, and Kono cocks her head – typical veteran vs. rookie response, right there.
"First off: what if Steve wounded someone during a raid or whatever, and the guy survived and somehow got away? He could be wandering around free while his buddies are dead or in jail, and he could be mightily pissed off."
Danny stops to take a sip of coffee. "And second: there've been a few court cases recently where perps we arrested walked free because of inadmissible evidence. I've already expressed my thoughts about that, in detail, so I'll spare you a re-run."
"I think people living on Maui could hear you yelling at Steve, last time," Kono says.
"Maui? I bet folks on the mainland were covering their ears," Chin argues, grinning.
"Hey, he totally deserved it!" Danny says. "My point is, Steve did his 'enhanced interrogation' thing on most of those suspects. One of them may have been looking for payback."
"Yeah, okay," Chin says, somber now. "That would be a pretty powerful motive."
"I've just got this gut feeling that it was personal," Danny says, "and that whoever did this was seriously mad at Steve for a very specific reason. So we have to consider all avenues."
Chin sighs. "Let's hit the files again."
Danny sits down at his desk with a pile of old cases, and rubs at his aching forehead. This is how police work often goes. Evidence is scant, witnesses are non-existent or unreliable, there's no useful forensics and no obvious motive. The leads dry up, and the crime goes unsolved. Danny knows all this; he lived the reality of it every day, back in Jersey.
But since Five-0 was set up, his parameters have shifted. Danny's expectations of his colleagues and belief in their collective abilities have greatly increased, while his grip on proper procedure has loosened just a little. So far, the team have been able to solve every case and deal with every problem, even the ones that seemed impossible at the outset.
Danny simply can't accept that they could fail now, and leave Steve vulnerable to another ambush.
***
The construction work continues for four days and three nights. Thankfully, the neighbors' houses are far enough away that there are no noise complaints.
Praying that the HPD guys are as trustworthy as Chin suggests, Danny goes back to sleeping at his apartment. He mostly divides his time between the hospital and HQ, but stops by the house regularly to check on progress. It's going well, and he's pretty sure the crew will meet the deadline. He offers the bonus anyway, to boost their motivation.
Danny found Steve's secret stash at the back of his linen closet, wrapped in an old towel. The bag contains $20,000 – more cash than Danny's ever seen outside a crime scene – plus piles of British pounds, Euros, and several Asian currencies. There's also a bunch of passports in multiple names and languages, all bearing Steve's image.
The whole thing is straight out of a goddamn spy movie. Danny would feel honored that Steve trusted him with the cache's location, but in their current circumstances it's a pretty minor revelation.
He's painfully aware of time ticking away as the full moon gets closer. It's far worse for Steve, who's getting more stressed out with every day. Danny figures it's a combination of the moon's effect on him and his intense unhappiness at being bedridden and helpless.
On Wednesday morning, Danny corners Steve's doctor and asks for a status report. He's unsurprised to hear that Steve is healing remarkably well considering the severity of his chest wound, and pleased to hear that tests show no lasting injury to the brain.
"So how soon do you think he could be released?"
"He's making such good progress that it could be as early as next week," Dr. Young says.
If Steve was an ordinary guy, Danny would be thrilled at this news. But all he can think is: fuck.
"I know Steve's been agitated about those tubes and lines," Danny says. "What's the soonest that he could get free of all that intervention, at least?"
The doctor frowns. "The chest tube could come out tomorrow, perhaps. We'd need to keep up nasogastric feeding and IV fluids for a while longer, until his system can handle normal nutrition again."
"Could he check out AMA, and hire a private nursing agency to provide care at home?"
"Yes, but that would be highly inadvisable," she says severely. "He's still weak, and susceptible to post-operative infection. Are you sure you're thinking about the patient's best interests, Detective?"
"Ask him yourself," Danny says. "You'll find he's keen to get out of here as soon as possible."
Danny trails her into the room, where Steve is awake and staring at the ceiling. The only visible movement is the fingertips of his left hand, rubbing back and forth across the blanket. But Danny can read repressed tension in Steve's entire body.
Dr. Young sits down at Steve's bedside and says, "Commander, your partner here tells me that you are very eager to leave the hospital. Is that correct?"
Though Steve's voice is still raspy, his answer is clear. "Yes, doctor."
"Once we remove your chest and feeding tubes and IV lines, in a day or two, it will hypothetically be possible for you to go home. However, I strongly recommend against checking out before next week at the earliest. Do you still wish to leave?"
"Yes," Steve says again, more firmly.
"I want to take him home on Friday," Danny says, "or Saturday morning at the very latest. Please make it happen, doctor."
Dr. Young's not happy, but she nods and walks out. Steve smiles at Danny. It's a mere shadow of his usual grin, but it's the best thing Danny's seen all week.
Danny immediately starts investigating the options for home nursing assistance. It might not be needed, given Steve's rapid rate of recovery, but having something organized might placate the doctor. Danny asks several ICU nurses for advice – he's become quite close to them in recent days – and calls the private agency that they unanimously recommend.
He explains to the perky receptionist that her agency's caregivers will only be required during the day, as he'll be looking after the patient at night. Once he hangs up, Steve turns his head to smile at Danny for real this time.
"Best nursemaid ever," he says, and Danny laughs.
"If you've got a fetish for nurse outfits, buddy, you're shit outta luck."
Steve just quirks an eyebrow at him, denying nothing.
Danny waits until he's left the hospital to call Rachel; Steve doesn't need guilt over messing up Danny's Grace time on top of all his other worries. He confirms their arrangement to swap weekends, since he'll be staying at Steve's from Friday night onwards.
"All right," Rachel says. "Can you pick Grace up this afternoon for your usual mid-week visit, or would you rather reschedule?"
"Today is absolutely fine," Danny says. "I'm looking forward to it. Thanks again, Rach – you've been really good about all this."
"Not at all," she replies briskly, but Danny can tell she's pleased. It seems like they're both glad to have reached this tentative truce, for Gracie's sake if nothing else.
***
Danny heads back to HQ after lunch. Chin is sitting at the central table, leafing through Five-0's paper records, while Kono flicks from one computer file to the next.
Chin sets aside the pile of folders, and rests his head in his hands. God, he must be worn out. Danny feels guilty for having laid so much responsibility on his shoulders since Friday night.
"Let's stop focusing on motive for a moment," Chin says, "and think about method. If the gunman doesn't live on the island, he must have arrived at least a few days beforehand. He couldn't have made such a clean getaway without planning it in advance."
"Right," Kono says. "And even if it was a local, he'd still have to track Steve's movements somehow – unless he found you two at the restaurant by accident."
"I find it hard to believe that neither of us was aware of being tailed," Danny objects. "I'm observant and I've got pretty good instincts, yeah, but Steve is incredible when it comes to this kind of thing. Eyes in the back of his head, you know? Unless the perp was super stealthy, Steve should have known he was being followed."
Chin's fingers move across the screen. "Okay, let's test that theory. What time did the two of you get to the restaurant, last Friday?"
"Around 6.30, I think," Danny answers.
Pulling up the feed from the traffic camera located near the restaurant's front entrance, Chin finds the point where Danny's car turns into the driveway leading to the parking lot. It's eerie to catch a glimpse of Steve behind the wheel, healthy and whole, laughing at something. Danny wishes he could remember what joke he'd cracked to cause that reaction.
The timestamp is 6.39pm. Chin skips back a few minutes and then runs the footage, but there's no sign of their perp entering the lot before Danny and Steve arrived. The guy shows up almost an hour later, in fact, and they already know he waited another hour before ambushing Steve.
Kono looks thoughtful. "Somehow he knew you'd still be there at that time. Did you two tell anyone where you were going for dinner?"
It was only a few days ago, but Danny finds it hard to recall; so much has happened since then. "Nope, and Steve didn't book ahead either. I think we only discussed it while we were driving back to HQ that afternoon."
"So maybe he bugged your car," Kono suggests. Danny snaps his fingers at her, and the three of them rush out to the parking lot.
Chin's the one who finds the tiny bug in Danny's car, concealed under the passenger seat. There's no LED indicator and no on/off switch, so they can't tell if it's still transmitting.
Danny wants to yell into the device; he wants to threaten whoever's been spying on them, and give him one hell of a scare. But rationally, he knows that it'd be better not to let the asshole know it's been discovered. So Danny snaps a couple of close-up pictures with his phone, then silently motions for Chin to put the bug back in place and shut the passenger door.
He leans against the hood, deeply unnerved by this invasion of his privacy. Danny and Steve have gotten to know each other while sitting in this car, from blazing arguments and joking banter to long stake-outs and shared confidences. Also, it's where he spends some of his far-too-limited time with Grace, talking about her day and telling her sanitized stories about Five-0's exploits. Danny hates the thought of some anonymous fucker listening to all those conversations.
While Chin and Danny were searching the interior, Kono was carefully going over the rest of the car. Now, from her position behind the rear bumper, she beckons to them.
Once they're crouching down beside her, she points at another small, black electronic device attached to the car's underside. It looks like a GPS tracker.
"Great work, rookie," Chin says, and Kono grins at him.
"Fucking hell," Danny says as he stands up, desperately wanting to hit someone or something. Honest to God, he can't take much more of this shit without snapping. Kono's watching him anxiously, and Chin looks concerned too.
Danny clenches his fists, breathes deeply, and tries to get his thoughts in order.
"Okay, so: this vehicle has pretty advanced security features, right? A skilled car thief could possibly plant the bug inside without setting off the alarm, but an amateur couldn't manage it. So we've gotta be looking at a guy with a history of criminal activity, even if he hasn't been particularly violent before now."
"And some experience with surveillance equipment, I'd guess," Chin adds. "I'll see what I can find out about the bug and tracker, and ask HPD's techs about disabling or spoofing the signals."
"We should check our case files again, look for people with auto-related convictions or technical expertise," Kono says, and Danny nods.
"Thanks, guys," he says. "I really appreciate everything you've done on this."
Kono frowns at him. "I know how you feel about Steve, Danny. But he's our friend too, remember? We want to catch this bastard just as much as you do."
Danny bites his lip; caught up in his own worries, it's easy to overlook the impact of the shooting on other people. "Yeah, of course," he says. "I'm sorry, Kono."
Her expression clears, and she touches his arm in a gesture of forgiveness. Danny's reminded of how lucky he is to have teammates like these.
The genius squad works out a way to get the devices off his car without immediately arousing suspicion, buying precious time to analyze the outgoing signals. Chin tries to explain it further, but this hi-tech shit is way over Danny's head. The HPD tech guys also search the vehicle in minute detail, but find no other surveillance equipment. Still, Danny doesn't think he'll ever be able to fully relax in his car again.
Danny stops by the hospital on his way to pick Grace up, and gives Steve the news.
"Fuck," Steve says, his eyes wide, and Danny really has to agree. Today's discoveries take an already unsettling situation to a whole other level of creepy.
When Steve looks at Danny's photos of the two devices, he curses again. "NSA and CIA use bugs like this."
"Do not tell me we're being watched by government spooks, Steven," Danny says, massaging his throbbing temples. "I seriously cannot cope with that information today."
Steve shakes his head. "Maybe not. Could get this on the black market, if you had the right connections and money to burn."
"Like Hesse or Noshimuri, for instance." Danny sighs. "Okay, so what about the GPS tracker?"
"Far lower spec; much cheaper. Available at a specialty electronics store or online."
"Hmm," Danny says. "Now I'm having a nasty thought: could these two devices have been planted separately? The tracker by whoever shot you, and the bug by someone else?"
Steve nods. "Wouldn't be surprised – I've made enough enemies."
"It's not paranoia if they're all out to get you, huh?"
Danny has to joke, because otherwise he might scream.
***
As he drives across town to his daughter's school, Danny tries to clear his mind – he can't show any of these dark thoughts to her. The delighted look on Gracie's face when she sees him waiting really helps to lift his mood.
"Danno!" she shouts, running towards him, and he swings her up into his arms.
"Hey monkey," he says, "I'm so happy to see you." She hugs him tight; he rests his cheek against her soft hair and breathes deeply.
There's a big rainstorm brewing, so they decide to catch a movie. Grace wants to see Tangled again, having already gone with Rachel before Christmas, and to his surprise Danny actually enjoys it. For 100 minutes he's immersed in a more innocent world, where the good guys always win and live happily ever after.
After the movie, the two of them have dinner at their favorite Italian place in Honolulu. As they get in the car to head back to Rachel's, Grace asks, "Daddy, can we visit Uncle Steve? I drew a picture in school today and I want to give it to him."
"You did? That was real nice of you, sweetheart." Danny thinks for a moment. ICU visiting hours are over, but the nurses won't be able to resist his daughter's puppy dog eyes. And although Steve needs his rest, seeing Grace might really cheer him up.
Steve looks asleep when they reach his room, but opens his eyes as soon as Danny calls his name softly.
"Hey Danno; hey kiddo," he says, pleasure and surprise evident on his face. Danny adjusts the angle of the bed so Steve can see them better.
"Hi, Uncle Steve," Grace says. "I'm sorry you're hurt. Here, I made this for you!"
She holds up a picture of Steve's house. Standing on the beach outside it are Grace in her favorite pink swimsuit, Danny in a shirt and pants, and Steve in his blue swim trunks. Little swirls of color represent his tattoos.
Steve stares at the drawing, apparently transfixed; Danny guesses that no child ever drew him a picture before. "Thank you, Grace. That's great," Steve says, carefully setting it on the bedside table.
"It's a masterpiece, is what it is," Danny says proudly, and Grace beams at him. Her innocent depiction of the three of them together tugs at his heart. He wants that, for real.
"Hey, monkey," he says, "you wanna tell Steve about the movie we saw today?"
Perching on the side of Steve's bed, Grace launches into a synopsis of Tangled. The simple plot gets way more complicated – and much funnier – when it's described by an 8-year-old.
Though he's obviously tired, Steve does his best to follow along. But he keeps glancing at Danny, like he can't quite believe that Grace is here and sitting just inches away.
This is the closest Danny can get to fulfilling his declaration of total trust in Steve. So he leans back in his chair, body language deliberately casual, and smiles as he listens to his daughter.
When she's reached the inevitable happy ending, Danny says, "Gracie, do you remember what you wanted to ask him?"
She nods, and turns to Steve. "Can we come to your house next weekend? I like swimming with you."
"Next weekend?" Steve questions, looking at Danny.
"Rachel and I swapped weekends. No big deal," Danny says, projecting 'so don't beat yourself up about it' vibes at Steve. "Grace is cool with it, isn't that right?"
"Yup, 'cos I get to go to Marisol's birthday party. We're watching my new Hannah Montana DVD."
"Oh. Good." Steve sounds a little lost, and Danny struggles not to grin. "And sure, Grace, you can visit next weekend. But I don't know if I'll be okay to swim by then."
"Maybe I can go in the water with you instead," Danny offers. "Would you like that, monkey?" He doesn't miss the way his partner's eyes widen at this suggestion – is Steve imagining Danny in swim trunks right now?
"Yeah!" Grace says, with touching enthusiasm. He really should get over his dislike of the ocean, and go swimming with her more often.
"Okay, we'll see. But we have to go now," Danny tells her. "It's nearly your bedtime, and Steve needs his rest too."
He expects Grace to just say goodnight. Instead, she tilts her head thoughtfully. "Uncle Steve, do you need a hug? I like getting hugs when I don't feel good."
The shocked look on Steve's face is kinda funny, but kinda sad too – the guy obviously doesn't receive enough spontaneous gestures of affection.
After Danny nods encouragingly at him, Steve says, "Yeah, kiddo, I'd like that. Just be careful of the bandages and tubes, okay?"
So Grace leans against the undamaged side of his chest, head on his left shoulder and one small hand curled around his neck. Steve wraps his free arm around her, visibly relaxing into the embrace. Danny bites his lip at the sight of his two favorite people, nestled together so sweetly. He fixes the image in his mind.
Grace looks like she could fall asleep right here, but Danny has to get her home. He doesn't want to stretch Rachel's goodwill to breaking point.
"Time to go, sweetheart," he says quietly.
"Okay, Daddy," she says, stretching up to kiss Steve's cheek before sliding off the bed.
Steve smiles at her. "'Night, Grace."
Danny wishes he could kiss Steve goodnight, too. He settles for touching his wrist and saying, "Sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thank you," is all Steve says. But God, the way he looks at Danny...it's like the sun's come out after a week of rain.
"My pleasure," Danny murmurs. Reluctantly, he turns and follows Grace out the door.
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