FanFic: "Ground Fire" (Hawaii Five-0) - Chapter 20 of ??
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
CHAPTER TWENTY
"No it's not." Indignantly pointing from the wheelchair to the large computer screen broadcasting the outcome of his knee injury, Steve adamantly shook his head. It made no difference to him that his entire leg was now slightly elevated on the wheelchair's footrest or that two large ice packs encircled a very colorfully bruised joint. It didn't matter that Steve could barely stand by that point for the pain and significant swelling. Staring at the x-ray on the screen and then scowling into the doctor's bland face, he remained in utter denial.
"That has to be the wrong scan, because no ... it's not."
Behind him and strangling the chair's handles, Iona blushed as his new boss objected to the fine doctor's diagnosis. The medical genius was one of the best orthopedic surgeons within the esteemed TAMC's faculty. Even Iona could see that Doctor F.A. Denton knew what he was doing and for him, Steve's injury was quite straight forward and almost ... mundane.
However his patient, now in a mint green hospital gown after going through a number of x-rays, was wholeheartedly disagreeing with the expert's prowess. The results were in and yet, there was a very vocal objection well in progress.
"Yes, if you look here," and Steve glowered angrily as Denton used his ballpoint pen just shy of the screen to demonstrate the fine thin line from left to right. "Your patella is fractured. I must say you are very lucky because the fracture is quite stable and it could have been much worse for the added stress you placed it under by not having it looked at right away."
Having slammed his hands firmly into his lab coat pockets, the doctor smirked back completely unfazed by his latest patient's reaction. Behind his eyes though, wheels were churning as he weighed the exhausted expression worsened by what he knew was a painful injury. "As I was saying, recovery time is about six weeks. You have to stay completely off your left leg for that time period. I'm assuming you can manage crutches?"
Still behind Steve, the doctor watched in amusement as the young HPD officer dramatically hung his head. A large plastic bag of the commander's filthy clothing hung from his shoulder since the Five-0 leader was certain he was in no way, being admitted. That in fact was quite true, however he was going to be on the docket for a laundry list of next steps before being released. Denton raised his eyebrows comically as Iona's inaudibly mouthed 'shit' was read easily enough and he had to physically bite his tongue to keep from laughing.
"I'll put the orders in and write-up the prescription plus any other required paperwork." Clenching and unclenching his fingers busily in his pockets, the doctor lobbed his next demand which nearly sent Steve into the stratosphere.
"I can do the cast in about an hour's time, so we'll find a temporary room for you where you can wait comfortably." Sleep was what the doctor meant, too. Mental calculations were failing him as he tried to tally up the hours since the incident in the trauma room because he also had to figure in the commander's earlier mission to retrieve the plane crash victims. Prior to that, he was even more unaware of the man's typical schedule .. if there even had been one.
"Cast?" Steve virtually growled out the word before slouching back in the wheelchair. "No. That won't work for me."
"It has to." The doctor blithely replied as he picked up the exam room's telephone to locate a spare outpatient room and submit orders for the full leg cast. Once done, the cast would extend from the upper thigh and down to the ankle. Wisely staying away from those particulars until the deed was accomplished, he spoke quickly before the department he wanted picked up on his call.
"It is what it is and you have zero choices, Commander. Rather, you need to be happy that you don't require surgery or even a hospital stay for that matter."
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Steve lay back on the hospital bed with one arm flung over his eyes and a short stack of pillows carefully placed under his damaged knee courtesy of Officer Iona. Classified as an out-patient, he was in a private area and waiting for Denton to appear. A nurse had gotten new chemical ice packs and then had covered him with a single white sheet, suggesting he close his eyes until the doctor was ready to set the cast. Evidently the physician had a series of rounds to do for more critical patients and would attend to Steve as soon as he was able. Until then, Steve was encouraged to relax and rest, something he was not particularly in the mood to do. Instead, Steve fought the sleep that tugged so strongly at him as soon as he deigned to assume a horizontal position and stressed muscles began to soften bit by bit. He continued to consider options though he knew that Denton was not up for negotiation on his diagnosis, nor the one and only mode of treatment.
"Time?" Steve didn't move as he asked his question of Iona who was stationed just inside the doorway and still holding his bag of personal clothes and belongings. Iona was loathe to allow anything of the Commander's out his sight. Especially the impressive stash of belongings which included two guns and one very large knife.
Steve at least had taken the pain medication and anti-inflammatories which had also been brought in by the kind nurse. His knee was now feeling fine as long as he didn't move it too much. But he was sure that the one hour quoted was long expended. "What time is it now?"
"It's a little after eleven in the morning." Iona replied, wishing the Five-0 leader would relax enough to actually sleep. He was learning rapidly that one, Steve McGarrett, was an impatient sort. Impatient and overly opinionated as he questioned each and every second of non-action or another's decision even if that other were an esteemed medical professional.
"Do me a favor and get a status on each of my people. I'm tired of waiting and I need to know. Find out about our man, too." Steve's order was muffled under his arm. Happy to move, Iona jumped on the task. He'd been at a loss of what to do and idly standing by in a corner or up against a wall was making him feel like an incompetent school boy.
"Yes, sir." Iona paused because he was better than most. Suddenly he needed Steve to know that Sergeant Lukela had stressed the criticality of keeping any details related to the Tortorro issue close to his vest. That he absolutely could be relied upon and that he understood the proprietary nature of whom Steve referred to as 'our man'.
Before he properly gathered those thoughts, Iona blurted the facts quickly and without apology. "And before you say it, sir. Yes, I do understand the need to maintain our man's privacy and what that indicates in the long run."
With that off his chest, Iona essentially fled the room cradling the bag of belongings. Under his arm, Steve smiled as he heard the steady foot steps leave and then the door snick softly shut. Duke knew what he was doing and he'd have to find a way to properly thank the man. Pacified by having the young officer at his beck and call, he finally allowed himself to doze.
Iona decided to visit Kono first since they were closer to her single room. As he approached, he was relieved to see a female HPD officer he knew rambling the long corridor. The two acknowledged each other to go about their business monitoring traffic in, out and around where their peer was recuperating. Since it was mid morning, Iona entered Kono's room correctly assuming she'd be awake. No less than five tabloid magazines lay across her bed, yet none were being read.
More than a full day now of being properly hospitalized had done wonders for Kono's health, yet nothing for her mood. Morose and preoccupied, she greeted him nicely enough but with little interest. If he had assumed his visit to Kono to be the easiest, he realized then that he was soon to be sadly mistaken.
"Are you taking over for Anela?" Her injured arm lay gently in her lap, neatly bandaged. A rectangular bandage graced her temple and just into her hair line where some of her thick black hair had been shaved away. Iona didn't know, but at least the rest had been washed, combed out and tied back in a somewhat neat pony tail.
"Not exactly. Anela is on duty." Iona had been practicing what to say but still, Kono's response wasn't what he anticipated as she asked about the female HPD officer still pacing the corridor. He had wanted to kindly inquire about how she was feeling, instead her attitude was already derailing him. She was squinting due to a pervasive headache and in a mood from having had her sleep disturbed by bouts of nausea during the overnight hours. Dr. Agnes Phillips, the neurologist, wasn't entirely pleased with her hydration levels, complaints of headache, or the slow recovery of her pupils to react more normally. Kono had just been told to expect another eight to twelve hours of hospitalized monitoring minutes before Iona's arrival.
"My name is Keanu Iona." He heaved in a breath to mentally start over. The end result being that it took Kono one pulse beat later to understand his meaning. "Sergeant Lukela assigned me to your team while you all recover. I've been asked to help out wherever I can."
"Really." Kono perked up a bit. "Help?" She had two things to ask of him, each equally important in her book and she jumped at the opportunity. "I've asked the nurses twice for an update on Danny and Chin. I have no idea where Steve is. In fact, no one's come back and its been hours. Can you get a wheelchair and get me into the ICU?"
"Uh. Sure, yes. Of course. If you're allowed." With Steve's orders on his mind, he hesitated before quickly agreeing. The ICU was obviously his next stop and he could manage Kono's visit and then bring her safely back with time to spare as the Commander had his knee casted. Iona was about to leave when she stopped him cold with her next question.
"Wait. What exactly did you mean by 'all'?" Her careful drawl made him wince uncomfortably. Kono noticed that too, and made another face while studying his posture. "You said the word "all"; like 'while you all recover'."
Iona was quickly learning how astute the entire Five-0 team was and how anything he did or said without even uttering a real word would be placed under a microscope. Headache or not, Kono had hung on every word he'd said since he'd entered the room. "What happened to Steve? He was fine." Kono squirmed up in her bed with even more intensity.
"Umm." Iona searched his brain for the easiest explanation. Reaching down to demonstrate, he tapped his own left knee. "He .. umm ... it seems he hurt his knee. He had trouble walking and then couldn't bend it so went in for x-rays. The ortho said he fractured his patella."
"What!" Her truly stunned reply was loud resulting in the advent of at least one nurse and the female HPD officer's return on a run. Kono flung her hand up in the air to forestall their interruptions and communicate she was technically fine as she stared wide-eyed at Keanu Iona. "He fractured .. did you say fractured .. his knee?"
The uncomfortable swallow and head bob were secondary to Iona's self-conscious sickened expression. "He's getting it casted by the ortho now .. or at least soon .. downstairs."
"Casted?" It seemed impossible, but Kono's eyes were larger darkened saucers by that point. "Oh brah, he's not going to like that. Casted? Like a real cast?" She groaned dramatically while waving her hand at the nurse who had started to fawn over her agitated patient. "Wheelchair. I want to see Chin, Danny ... and Steve. Right now."
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
It took some inventive wheedling on Iona's part, but he successfully got Kono to visit the group in the ICU first. It was a matter of self-preservation to gain that agreement because he dare not return to the Commander with only one of his team in tow and no other updates in hand.
Kono sat in the corridor trying to figure out why she refused to allow Iona to roll her the few steps forward. The two FBI agents were watching her and she refused to meet their eyes. Instead, she stared at the doorway to Al Tortorro's ICU room, squared her jaw and then nodded that she was ready. Wheeled in by Iona, she felt nothing but sadness for the comatose criminal. She stayed no more than five minutes listening to the steady whoosh of the life support equipment before forgetting that Iona was even still there to help her. Her good hand groped for the wheel but then she was being mysteriously moved backwards in a type of retreat into the hallway.
"Thanks." She whispered behind closed eyes hidden behind one splayed hand. Her chauffeur didn't reply though, instead he took her directly to her cousin's room where he learned that Chin Ho was soon to be moved out of the ICU to a regular room. The goal was for him to be released the day after that in order to rest at home. Iona left them then to talk privately together to poke his head into Danny's room.
"Hey. You awake?" Though the head of the bed was raised, Iona knit his brow when he saw the oxygen mask still in place versus the simpler nasal cannula.
"Yeah." Tiredly, Danny waved him in. "So? What's the verdict?" He had hoped the young officer would return and had been dozing on and off around an uncomfortable feverish shiver. His temperature had come down three points but was elevated enough for him to know that he was still sick. His body continued in its objection to the infection despite the regimen of antibiotics and rehydration.
"Steve .. umm .. Commander McGarrett had his ex-rays done. He's downstairs." Iona wrinkled his nose as he delivered the news, somewhat surprised be the odd half-disbeliving smirk adopted by the bedridden detective. "Doctor Denton says that his patella is fractured; he also said that the Commander was lucky it wasn't worse after waiting so long to have it examined."
"Animal. He broke his kneecap." Danny whispered around a slight smile and aggravated shake of his head. He had expected a diagnosis of a bone bruise or damaged ligament, but certainly not what Iona delivered. He also knew there'd be a cast involved from personal experience and knew how Steve was accepting of that particular requirement. "I'm sure he's not handling the need for a cast very well. He's going to be laid up for awhile with a break."
"Fracture." Iona corrected, knowing both were essentially the same; it was a battle of semantics. But to him fracture sounded a bit better than break and likely because the word Danny used would catapult his new boss into a larger sour mood.
"The good news is that Denton said it was a clean one which didn't require surgery." Heaving a long steady breath in for an even longer, pregnant exhale, Iona shared what he knew with Danny. He was beyond thankful that the detective understood the earlier challenges of managing that truth, regardless. "He's not real happy and I'll take him home when he's released. Doctor Denton said it would be a good six weeks after that."
"Truck. He's got a duffel in his truck .. clean clothes." Danny offered with short pauses to catch his breath, followed up by an off-hand gesture. Iona raised his eyebrows at the odd comment, but the next one had him even more baffled. The detective was staring at the plastic hospital issued personal's bag he continued to carry with him. "By the way, are those his old clothes there?"
"Well, yeah. I thought he'd need them ... but I can get the clean batch from the truck." Confused, Iona nodded as he plunked the bag down on the bed. Danny was carefully squirming upwards to sit taller. Suddenly he wasn't as tired as he had been as an idea flittered dangerously across his mind. He winced and almost ran out of breath, but the more he thought on it, the better the concept was. He was beginning to smile by the time he got better situated and rode out the twinge of pain in his side.
"Oh, you're going to do that too but bring them to me first." Fishing through the bag of near-ruined clothes, Danny snagged the large sheathed knife and the filthy pair of cargos. He nodded appreciably when he located Steve's truck keys.
"Here." Iona caught the keys as they were tossed into his chest. But his eyes widened as Danny unsheathed the knife after laying the black cargos across his lap. Estimating by eye, the detective began to hack away at each leg just above the knee.
"Should you do that?" Iona gasped as Danny happily continued to hack away at the material.
"Yup." The reply was smooth and filled with a certain level of evil glee. This was Danny's practice pair and he was already gloating in anticipation about getting his hands on the duffel bag. Glancing up at the overly nervous Iona, he waved him out of the room with the knife.
"Go! Get the bag out of the big Silverado. Go .. shoo!" The staccato voiced command was muffled under the oxygen mask, but the smile and chuckle were unmistakable. Iona though, had yet to find the humor in what Danny had decided to do.
Rolling his eyes because he knew .. he just knew .. this was going to be the worse assignment of his life, Iona left the ICU. "He's going to kill me." He muttered under his breath. "Just totally kill me."
~ to be continued ~
Go back: http://ireneclaire.livejournal.com/5935.html
Chapter 21: http://ireneclaire.livejournal.com/6528.html