New H50 Fic: A Time to Heal Part Two
Title: A Time to Heal
Author: Twilight
Summary: What the hell just happened? One minute he was holding his gun on Davis and the next he was on the ground with Danny bleeding all over him.
Rated: Pg 13
Feedback: Always welcome
Part One
Part Two
The rock and sway, the lurching movement of the ambulance was making Danny’s stomach twist, but he was afraid to open his eyes and tell someone, afraid to look down at his own damn body, afraid to look to Steve for confirmation that he was going to be all right.
Because he just knew he wasn’t.
Steve was still talking to him over the blare of the sirens, trying to reassure him with his words and the vice like grip he had on Danny’s hand, and Danny was clinging on to Steve too, squeezing Steve’s fingers in his weakening grasp, because he was terrified.
Afraid…scared he was done for.
No way was he going to let go of Steve.
But he couldn’t look at him, because if he did, he’d see the truth on Steve’s face.
The face that told Danny everything that Steve was ever thinking.
“Ten minutes out,” the medic said and Steve grabbed him with both hands now.
“See, we’re almost there, Danno…I’ve got you…ten minutes to Queen’s”
But Danny wasn’t sure if he had that much time.
He couldn’t seem to get in a solid breath, even with the mask blowing oxygen up his nose, he was coughing and choking, but then he felt a light touch to his arm, fingers swirling in soothing circles and that must have meant, calm down, Danno, but he couldn’t…god, he couldn’t.
He hurt!
The squeezing pressure in his chest was nearly unbearable and icy-hot whips of fire kept surging up and down his right side, then zipping around and across his belly.
He wished to God he could pass out, but then he thought, No, please…I might not wake up.
Pain was good…pain told him he was still alive.
The ambulance swerved, taking a corner too fast and something felt like it was ripping in his chest.
As he gasped for breath, images, muddled conversations, even smells of his past zipped along behind his clenched eyes, like some kind of demented slide show, and his addled brain dug up a conversation he had had with Meka a couple of years back, them sitting at their desks at HQ, not long before Meka had been murdered. What do you think it feels like to get shot?
“Don’t wanna find out…” that’s what he had said then. “…It burns,” he hissed out, but god, Meka already knew that and then he snapped his mouth shut, because he suddenly realized it was him making the weird, breathy, grunts he had been hearing over Steve’s chatter.
“S’kay, babe…let it out.”
It was getting worse, second by second, the whole of Danny’s body was consumed by fire.
When he opened his eyes, Steve’s face swam into view. He was leaning over Danny, so Danny looked at him, because…well, this might have been the last time and Danny had never seen that look on Steve’s face before, stark fear and sorrow and guilt…oh, god…he really was going to die
And he needed to tell Steve, “not...fault.” Something wet and shiny on Steve’s cheek caught Danny’s attention, “crying…don’t…”
His eyes felt heavier now, so he closed them, blinking slowly to see Steve reaching toward him, running the pads of his fingers against Danny’s own face, below the breathing mask.
He needed to tell Steve more.
“Grace,” he managed and Steve nodded in understanding, so he closed his eyes again and saw her there. She was wearing a yellow dress, hands clutching a basket overflowing with found Easter eggs. Rachel had braided her hair that morning before church, but it had pulled free as she ran and played with her cousins, stopping only to plant a big, sloppy kiss on her Pop Pop’s cheek. She slid up and onto the swing her Granny held for her, because Gracie’s arm was in a sling. She was only four years old, but she looked so determined, hanging on with only one hand, as his Ma gently pushed her.
‘They grow so fast’, his Ma said. ‘Before you know it, you’ll be walking her down the aisle.’
And Danny wanted that…he wanted so badly to see her grow, to cheer for her when she walked across the platform to receive her diploma, he wanted to walk his Monkey down the aisle one day.
“Promise,” he wheezed, waiting for Steve to squeeze his hand again in answer.
His Ma looked at him, sadness in her blue eyes, but she gave him a smile anyway. ‘We’ll just have to get used to the time difference, that’s all…and me and Poppy always wanted to go to Hawaii.’ She stood in their kitchen, cutting carrots on a cutting board and he could smell her lasagna baking in the oven. He loved her cooking. And she liked to feed him. He wanted her to cook for him again. When she brought the pan out, cheese bubbling and running down the side of the dish, Danny could almost taste it on his tongue, his mouth watering with the thought of it.
“What’s happening?” Steve’s voice seemed so far away.
“I’m just suctioning out your mouth, Danny…relax.”
His Pop punched him in the arm on his way to the back deck, handing Danny a beer as he passed. ‘Me and your Ma are so proud of you, Monkey Boy…Detective Williams…I knew you could do it. I can’t wait to tell the guys that my boy made Detective.'
“The team’s prepped…ETA three minutes.”
‘No, you goof…you’re not doing it right…Ma…Danny won’t let us be the good guys!’ His mother called, ‘Danny…uncuff your sisters…go arrest Matty, I’m sure he’s into something.’
“Shit…his BP is bottoming out!”
Danny’s fist clipped his cousin’s jaw, blood blooming on puffy lips, and his knuckles stung. ‘I told you before to lay off Matty’s bike…go run home to your mommy, you little prick.’ Matty took his bike back from Tommy and the boy screamed, ‘I’m telling! I’m telling your Ma you hit me.’
‘Go ahead, tell my Ma and then I’m gonna come over there to beat on you some more…go home Tommy and I swear to God, if you touch Matty or his damn bike again, you’ll have more than a busted mouth.’ Tommy ran off with his crew and Danny turned to his little brother. ‘And you…quit egging him on…I can’t always be here to protect you.’
Danny’s eyes popped open, “Matty…”
Steve was screaming something in his face.
The gurney suddenly lurched forward and Danny nearly lost his grip on Steve, but then the doors were yanked open.
Someone pulled his bed out, the wheels slapping to the ground hard, bouncing Danny along the pavement and he cried out. “Mmnnn…Steve?”
“Right here, Danno. I’m right here.”
Why did he hurt so much?
He had his vest on, right?
“I…not shot,” Danny shook his head, convulsing as he struggled to breathe. "I not shot. I…," he wheezed frantically, "wear my vest."
Shadows converged on him, faceless people all talking at once and he didn’t know who to listen too. Something cool snaked up both legs, making a strange snick sound and his work pants and boxers were lifted away, his shoes and socks pulled off, and he was lying naked in front of a room full of strangers.
A flimsy white sheet floated briefly above him, descending over his lower half, but he still couldn’t stop shaking and shivering, he was so cold.
Then Steve’s hand was wrenched away a second later as Danny was rolled to his side and someone tapped and pressed down his spine, stuck a finger where fingers shouldn’t be.
On his back again, he could see Steve leaning against the far wall, hands on his knees, panting like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him, but Danny couldn’t focus on Steve because someone new, a man in a surgical cap and blood streaked gown asked, “…okay?”
And Danny wondered if maybe he passed out, because he didn’t know what the doctor was asking, but he nodded anyway. Figured the guy knew what he was doing and Danny needed help.
Someone grasped his jaw, turning his head straight so that all he could see were the overhead lights and then his mouth was pushed open.
He fought it for a second, all his muscles tensing, but then Steve was back in his line of sight, “You have to calm down, babe…let the doctors help.”
He could only blink as a thick tube slithered down his throat and he tried to swallow around it.
Someone pressed something cool against his chest and then a balloon type bag was attached to the end of the tube sticking from Danny’s mouth. Rhythmic squeezing forced blessed oxygen into Danny’s lungs.
Something cold and wet swiped against the left side of his chest, “gonna pinch,” and then a razor sharp blade cut into his flesh, twisting and probing, shoving something else between his ribs and if he could, he would have screamed, but instead, he used his feet to arch up off the table.
Many hands covered his battered body then, pinning him back to the bed, but he squirmed and pushed against the weight of them until finally his vision started to dim.
Is this it?
His hand flailed around until someone grabbed it, “You’re gonna be fine, Danno.”
Steve…Steve was still here.
Machines moved around him, people positioned his body as they pleased, touching him, hurting him, but Steve still held on.
“…gotta an OR ready...”
His eyes would barely open, but he could still make out his friend, his best friend, running along side the gurney as they moved Danny through the halls and then they all crammed into the car of an elevator.
He needed to tell Steve…well, that he loved him and that he was so thankful to have a friend like him.
Steve, who had barged in and hijacked Danny’s life, but had also made Danny’s life bearable during the weeks in between his weekend visits with Grace.
Somewhere along the line, he had lost time, because when he opened his eyes again, Steve was gone and he was in an operating room. All he could make out was the cluster of bright lights over head and then he felt hands on his body again.
Someone touched his thigh and it startled him, but he couldn’t move away from what was happening down there, the grasp of a hand in a very private area scared him more and then he felt burning pressure as a tube snaked up and into his bladder.
Someone else was talking to him and from the corner of his eye he could see a nurse in scrubs, mask and gloves, still squeezing the bag that forced oxygen into his lungs.
And then from the other side of him he heard, “squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”
His fingers shifted, but that was the best he could do.
The constant pain started to dissipate, he felt strangely detached, like his body didn’t belong to him anymore.
And that scared him too.
He could hear his own heart rate thumping faster on one of the monitors.
“That’s good, Detective. I’m Dr. Hoy,” the man leaned over Danny, so he could see the doctor’s masked face. “You’ve been shot, but we’re going to take good care of you. We already started the anesthesia, muscle relaxants, so you should start to feel some pain relief now.”
Dr. Hoy fiddled with something that Danny couldn’t quite see from his angle, “Dr. Akana is going to put you on the breathing machine now,” and as he spoke, the bag was removed from the end of the tube in Danny’s lung and a longer one, an extension from a machine was attached. “It feels a little different, but you can still breathe, you just have to relax.”
It was different, weird, but Danny felt some of the pressure in his chest lightening.
“We’re going to take a look at your gut first, see what…”
And he tried to listen to the doctor’s voice, the hiss and pop of the machines around him droning in the back ground and somewhere above the din of the operating room he could hear someone singing, the voice small and tinny but before he could think on what it might be, his eyes closed and he heard no more.
H50H50H50
Part Three
Author: Twilight
Summary: What the hell just happened? One minute he was holding his gun on Davis and the next he was on the ground with Danny bleeding all over him.
Rated: Pg 13
Feedback: Always welcome
Part One
Part Two
The rock and sway, the lurching movement of the ambulance was making Danny’s stomach twist, but he was afraid to open his eyes and tell someone, afraid to look down at his own damn body, afraid to look to Steve for confirmation that he was going to be all right.
Because he just knew he wasn’t.
Steve was still talking to him over the blare of the sirens, trying to reassure him with his words and the vice like grip he had on Danny’s hand, and Danny was clinging on to Steve too, squeezing Steve’s fingers in his weakening grasp, because he was terrified.
Afraid…scared he was done for.
No way was he going to let go of Steve.
But he couldn’t look at him, because if he did, he’d see the truth on Steve’s face.
The face that told Danny everything that Steve was ever thinking.
“Ten minutes out,” the medic said and Steve grabbed him with both hands now.
“See, we’re almost there, Danno…I’ve got you…ten minutes to Queen’s”
But Danny wasn’t sure if he had that much time.
He couldn’t seem to get in a solid breath, even with the mask blowing oxygen up his nose, he was coughing and choking, but then he felt a light touch to his arm, fingers swirling in soothing circles and that must have meant, calm down, Danno, but he couldn’t…god, he couldn’t.
He hurt!
The squeezing pressure in his chest was nearly unbearable and icy-hot whips of fire kept surging up and down his right side, then zipping around and across his belly.
He wished to God he could pass out, but then he thought, No, please…I might not wake up.
Pain was good…pain told him he was still alive.
The ambulance swerved, taking a corner too fast and something felt like it was ripping in his chest.
As he gasped for breath, images, muddled conversations, even smells of his past zipped along behind his clenched eyes, like some kind of demented slide show, and his addled brain dug up a conversation he had had with Meka a couple of years back, them sitting at their desks at HQ, not long before Meka had been murdered. What do you think it feels like to get shot?
“Don’t wanna find out…” that’s what he had said then. “…It burns,” he hissed out, but god, Meka already knew that and then he snapped his mouth shut, because he suddenly realized it was him making the weird, breathy, grunts he had been hearing over Steve’s chatter.
“S’kay, babe…let it out.”
It was getting worse, second by second, the whole of Danny’s body was consumed by fire.
When he opened his eyes, Steve’s face swam into view. He was leaning over Danny, so Danny looked at him, because…well, this might have been the last time and Danny had never seen that look on Steve’s face before, stark fear and sorrow and guilt…oh, god…he really was going to die
And he needed to tell Steve, “not...fault.” Something wet and shiny on Steve’s cheek caught Danny’s attention, “crying…don’t…”
His eyes felt heavier now, so he closed them, blinking slowly to see Steve reaching toward him, running the pads of his fingers against Danny’s own face, below the breathing mask.
He needed to tell Steve more.
“Grace,” he managed and Steve nodded in understanding, so he closed his eyes again and saw her there. She was wearing a yellow dress, hands clutching a basket overflowing with found Easter eggs. Rachel had braided her hair that morning before church, but it had pulled free as she ran and played with her cousins, stopping only to plant a big, sloppy kiss on her Pop Pop’s cheek. She slid up and onto the swing her Granny held for her, because Gracie’s arm was in a sling. She was only four years old, but she looked so determined, hanging on with only one hand, as his Ma gently pushed her.
‘They grow so fast’, his Ma said. ‘Before you know it, you’ll be walking her down the aisle.’
And Danny wanted that…he wanted so badly to see her grow, to cheer for her when she walked across the platform to receive her diploma, he wanted to walk his Monkey down the aisle one day.
“Promise,” he wheezed, waiting for Steve to squeeze his hand again in answer.
His Ma looked at him, sadness in her blue eyes, but she gave him a smile anyway. ‘We’ll just have to get used to the time difference, that’s all…and me and Poppy always wanted to go to Hawaii.’ She stood in their kitchen, cutting carrots on a cutting board and he could smell her lasagna baking in the oven. He loved her cooking. And she liked to feed him. He wanted her to cook for him again. When she brought the pan out, cheese bubbling and running down the side of the dish, Danny could almost taste it on his tongue, his mouth watering with the thought of it.
“What’s happening?” Steve’s voice seemed so far away.
“I’m just suctioning out your mouth, Danny…relax.”
His Pop punched him in the arm on his way to the back deck, handing Danny a beer as he passed. ‘Me and your Ma are so proud of you, Monkey Boy…Detective Williams…I knew you could do it. I can’t wait to tell the guys that my boy made Detective.'
“The team’s prepped…ETA three minutes.”
‘No, you goof…you’re not doing it right…Ma…Danny won’t let us be the good guys!’ His mother called, ‘Danny…uncuff your sisters…go arrest Matty, I’m sure he’s into something.’
“Shit…his BP is bottoming out!”
Danny’s fist clipped his cousin’s jaw, blood blooming on puffy lips, and his knuckles stung. ‘I told you before to lay off Matty’s bike…go run home to your mommy, you little prick.’ Matty took his bike back from Tommy and the boy screamed, ‘I’m telling! I’m telling your Ma you hit me.’
‘Go ahead, tell my Ma and then I’m gonna come over there to beat on you some more…go home Tommy and I swear to God, if you touch Matty or his damn bike again, you’ll have more than a busted mouth.’ Tommy ran off with his crew and Danny turned to his little brother. ‘And you…quit egging him on…I can’t always be here to protect you.’
Danny’s eyes popped open, “Matty…”
Steve was screaming something in his face.
The gurney suddenly lurched forward and Danny nearly lost his grip on Steve, but then the doors were yanked open.
Someone pulled his bed out, the wheels slapping to the ground hard, bouncing Danny along the pavement and he cried out. “Mmnnn…Steve?”
“Right here, Danno. I’m right here.”
Why did he hurt so much?
He had his vest on, right?
“I…not shot,” Danny shook his head, convulsing as he struggled to breathe. "I not shot. I…," he wheezed frantically, "wear my vest."
Shadows converged on him, faceless people all talking at once and he didn’t know who to listen too. Something cool snaked up both legs, making a strange snick sound and his work pants and boxers were lifted away, his shoes and socks pulled off, and he was lying naked in front of a room full of strangers.
A flimsy white sheet floated briefly above him, descending over his lower half, but he still couldn’t stop shaking and shivering, he was so cold.
Then Steve’s hand was wrenched away a second later as Danny was rolled to his side and someone tapped and pressed down his spine, stuck a finger where fingers shouldn’t be.
On his back again, he could see Steve leaning against the far wall, hands on his knees, panting like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him, but Danny couldn’t focus on Steve because someone new, a man in a surgical cap and blood streaked gown asked, “…okay?”
And Danny wondered if maybe he passed out, because he didn’t know what the doctor was asking, but he nodded anyway. Figured the guy knew what he was doing and Danny needed help.
Someone grasped his jaw, turning his head straight so that all he could see were the overhead lights and then his mouth was pushed open.
He fought it for a second, all his muscles tensing, but then Steve was back in his line of sight, “You have to calm down, babe…let the doctors help.”
He could only blink as a thick tube slithered down his throat and he tried to swallow around it.
Someone pressed something cool against his chest and then a balloon type bag was attached to the end of the tube sticking from Danny’s mouth. Rhythmic squeezing forced blessed oxygen into Danny’s lungs.
Something cold and wet swiped against the left side of his chest, “gonna pinch,” and then a razor sharp blade cut into his flesh, twisting and probing, shoving something else between his ribs and if he could, he would have screamed, but instead, he used his feet to arch up off the table.
Many hands covered his battered body then, pinning him back to the bed, but he squirmed and pushed against the weight of them until finally his vision started to dim.
Is this it?
His hand flailed around until someone grabbed it, “You’re gonna be fine, Danno.”
Steve…Steve was still here.
Machines moved around him, people positioned his body as they pleased, touching him, hurting him, but Steve still held on.
“…gotta an OR ready...”
His eyes would barely open, but he could still make out his friend, his best friend, running along side the gurney as they moved Danny through the halls and then they all crammed into the car of an elevator.
He needed to tell Steve…well, that he loved him and that he was so thankful to have a friend like him.
Steve, who had barged in and hijacked Danny’s life, but had also made Danny’s life bearable during the weeks in between his weekend visits with Grace.
Somewhere along the line, he had lost time, because when he opened his eyes again, Steve was gone and he was in an operating room. All he could make out was the cluster of bright lights over head and then he felt hands on his body again.
Someone touched his thigh and it startled him, but he couldn’t move away from what was happening down there, the grasp of a hand in a very private area scared him more and then he felt burning pressure as a tube snaked up and into his bladder.
Someone else was talking to him and from the corner of his eye he could see a nurse in scrubs, mask and gloves, still squeezing the bag that forced oxygen into his lungs.
And then from the other side of him he heard, “squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”
His fingers shifted, but that was the best he could do.
The constant pain started to dissipate, he felt strangely detached, like his body didn’t belong to him anymore.
And that scared him too.
He could hear his own heart rate thumping faster on one of the monitors.
“That’s good, Detective. I’m Dr. Hoy,” the man leaned over Danny, so he could see the doctor’s masked face. “You’ve been shot, but we’re going to take good care of you. We already started the anesthesia, muscle relaxants, so you should start to feel some pain relief now.”
Dr. Hoy fiddled with something that Danny couldn’t quite see from his angle, “Dr. Akana is going to put you on the breathing machine now,” and as he spoke, the bag was removed from the end of the tube in Danny’s lung and a longer one, an extension from a machine was attached. “It feels a little different, but you can still breathe, you just have to relax.”
It was different, weird, but Danny felt some of the pressure in his chest lightening.
“We’re going to take a look at your gut first, see what…”
And he tried to listen to the doctor’s voice, the hiss and pop of the machines around him droning in the back ground and somewhere above the din of the operating room he could hear someone singing, the voice small and tinny but before he could think on what it might be, his eyes closed and he heard no more.
H50H50H50
Part Three