What I Need to Set Me Free - Part Six
“Stevie?” Kamekona knocks softly at the door.
Steve, who has been resting on the cot while Danny dozes in the chair by Grace, puts a finger to his lips and gets up. He follows Kamekona into the hall and pulls the door to.
“Is the Major here?” Steve asks hopefully.
Kamekona shakes his head. “Nah, no word of the Doc yet. But Old Mrs Akina from next door, she heard the coughing in the night and brought some ‘awa tea for Grace.” He holds up a jar with a brownish, strong smelling liquid in it.
“I’ll see what Danny thinks,” Steve takes the brew. “I don’t think he will like the idea but Grace isn’t turning around.”
“Danny still malihini. He hasn’t opened up to the ways of the Islands yet, Steve. He doesn’t trust what he doesn’t know. But haole medicine makes Gracie sicker.”
“I agree, Kamekona. I will try and explain the ‘awa to him. I think it will help.”
“Only use it a manini remember. It is strong. Mrs Akina said to water it down maybe half.”
Steve nods. “We will. Thanks, Kame.”
“No worries, Steve. You look after them, okay? You’ve got ohana now yeah?”
“Yeah I do,” Steve smiles goofily, ducking his head.
“Then you better get back in there,” Kamekona slaps him proudly on the back. “Little Stevie’s all grown up now,” he grins.
Steve slips back into the room and crosses to Danny’s side. “Danny, wake up,” he bends down and whispers in his ear.
Despite how gentle Steve is, Danny startles awake, coughing a little, a reminder that he is not completely well himself. “Grace?” he asks, leaning forward and taking in his sleeping daughter.
“No change for now. I’m sorry to wake you but there’s something I need to talk to you about.” Steve nods towards the door, silently suggesting they step out for the conversation.
Danny sighs and runs his fingers over the sheet covering Grace’s arm. He follows Steve to the landing.
“One of the neighour women brought some ‘awa leaf tea for Grace. She heard her coughing through the night.”
“’Awa leaf? Isn’t that the stuff that some of the local kids use when they can’t get black market alcohol?”
Steve nods. “It is. But that’s not the traditional use for it. It’s been used for centuries as a relaxant, for insomnia, in ceremonies and to treat fever and respiratory illness. Danny, I know it’s not what you know and I kind of expected you to be reluctant about using traditional medicine, but I trust it and I think we should try it.”
Danny nods. “Do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he says adamantly. “We’ve tried everything else we can and she isn’t getting worse but she isn’t getting better either. It doesn’t have any side effects does it?”
“Honestly, long term use can be a bit dicey but for a few days there shouldn’t be any.”
“Then let’s do it now.” Danny leads the way back to Grace’s bedside, holding up the shot glass they had been using to mix the quinine powder. “How much at once?”
“We’ll half fill that with the tea then top it up with water. And Danny? There’s one more thing.” Steve wonders if he is going to be pushing his luck.
“You want me to have some too.”
Steve blinks, surprised. “Uh, yeah. How did you know?”
Danny laughs. “I might have only met you a week ago, but I know you, Steve. But I’ll do it. If you think it will help me get better to I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” Steve wraps his arms around Danny’s back and pulls him close. “Would it be condescending to say that I am proud of how open minded you are being about this?”
Danny nods before leaning up to press a kiss to Steve’s warm lips. “Yes. But if Grace weren’t so sick I’d be protesting against it so strongly they’d hear me in California so I can’t really hold it against you.”
“Fair enough,” Steve holds the jar up, wrinkling his nose against the strange smell.
“Enticing, ain’t it?” Danny mirrors Steve’s face with his own. “Better get this over with then I guess.”
Steve follows his partner into the bathroom and he’s relieved about how well that all just went. He just hopes it’s not too little too late for Grace and that she doesn’t end up with permanent damage to her lungs. If she doesn’t start to turn around in the next few hours, Steve might have to resort to more extreme measures.
* * *
By noon, Steve can’t take it any longer. Dr Waincroft has been and gone, impressed with the level of care Grace had received in the night and convinced that Steve and Danny could continue to provide care as well as any hospital right now. There really wasn’t anything more they could be doing for her and certainly wouldn’t have the total devotion to a single patient that she had at the house.
Steve hears Grace cough again and decides that he can’t sit around watching her struggle for breath while she coughs up sickly coloured gunk. The natural improvement that often comes with morning has faded and Grace is as bad as she was during the night. He can’t bear watching Danny struggle to keep it together, the both of them so helpless.
Not when he can help. Not when there is one more thing they can try. Steve just needs to decide how far into this thing with Danny he is realistically going to go. He loves Danny, and Grace. Of this he is sure. But does he love them enough to risk everything that he has worked for?
“Shhh, Grace try and take a deep breath, babe,” Danny croons as he rocks his daughter back and forth. “Steve?” he looks up with tired, pleading eyes. “I think we should get her back into the bathroom.”
And just like this, his decision is made.
Steve helps Danny move Grace into the bathroom. “Why don’t you let her lie on the floor?” he suggests. “The cool tiles will probably be more efficient than cold washers.”
Danny nods reluctantly and arranges her with care, folding a towel under her head. Steve turns the water on full and hot and twists another towel into a long snake. He wedges it along the base of the door, preventing any steam from escaping.
“Danny, I need to talk to you about something.”
Danny looks up from stroking Grace’s cheek and frowns. “That’s the worst opening line, Steve. Nothing good ever comes after a conversation starts like that.”
“Maybe. I’m going to ask you to let me do something but I need you to trust me, without making me tell you my plans.”
“I take it back, that’s that would have been a worse way to start the conversation.”
“For god’s sake, Danny. Will you stop making jokes for just one minute?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you prefer I be more morbid and sober while I sit here, watching my daughter die on your fucking bathroom floor because her immune system is fucking shit and her allergies mean the only medicine we can give her will kill her faster than the infection.” Danny’s voice cracks and he thumps the side of the tub, his back heaving as he struggles to control himself.
He looks at the floor and sighs. “Look, this isn’t what you signed on for, Steve. If you want to leave, I won’t try and stop you.” As soon as he says the words, he regrets them and he hopes Steve knows he doesn’t mean it. He would try and stop him, with everything he can throw at the sailor.
“It isn’t all we can give her,” Steve says quietly, the complete opposite of Danny’s emotion filled release of tension.
Danny stops. “What do you mean?”
“There is a new drug that they’ve only just begun in large-scale production. I’ve seen it used in the field, it’s increasing survival rates for the wounded by huge numbers, but I don’t know too much about it other than the scuttlebutt I’ve heard from other guys.”
“Penicillin,” Danny nods. “Some of the guys here had it in the field and then in the hospital. But it isn’t publically available yet. It’s strictly for military use.”
“Which is why I didn’t want you asking questions, Danny. I didn’t want you involved in what I’m thinking about doing.”
“You’re going to try to steal some penicillin? For Grace?”
Steve nods. “Yes. I’ve been thinking for hours and I believe I have a plan which will work.”
“And if you’re caught, you will be court-martialed.”
“Yes.”
“And then what?”
“Dishonorable discharge at best. Probably some confinement,” Steve shrugs, trying to maintain a façade of calm. “It’s a time of war so the penalties for everything change. But Danny, I won’t get caught. I have a plan.”
“That doesn’t instill nearly as much confidence as you think it does, Steve.” Danny sighs and eases onto the floor beside Grace, using the tub to support himself.
“Please don’t try and stop me, Danny,” Steve implores. “We have tried everything else. I can’t sit around. I can’t watch the two of you go through this when I can help.”
“If I agreed, and I’m not saying I do, but if I did, what can I do to help?”
“Deny this conversation ever took place.”
“Steve,” Danny growls. “I’m serious.”
“So am I. You could be charged with being an accessory. You’d lose your badge.” Steve crouches next to Grace and swallows. “But also, I need you to let me draw some of her blood.”
* * *
Danny paces anxiously. He’s exhausted and frankly terrified. As if his worry for Grace isn’t enough, he’s now more than rationally concerned for the insane man who suddenly appeared in their lives like the crazed hero from an epic poem. After expertly drawing some of Grace’s blood (and Danny really does not want to think about the missions Steve has been on where they are trained for that sort of thing), Steve disappeared with a kiss for each of them and a promise to return. He has been gone for over six hours and Danny’s starting to think that the entire plan, which wasn’t that airtight to begin with, has fallen apart. “I pretend the blood is mine then convince them to give me a few days worth of penicillin,” is not exactly solid.
*
Steve waits patiently. He’s exhausted and beginning to cramp up after taking refuge in a small cleaning closet. The plan to switch his own blood for Grace’s had gone well at first, the nurse had been easily enough distracted when Steve sneezed, flailing his un-jabbed arm out and knocking over a tray of sterile instruments. He’d quickly switched the tubes while she scrambled to pick everything up. It had been so easy he almost felt bad for her.
The plan had fallen apart because Steve had overlooked one vital fact. Grace is a girl. He is not. The assumption that the blood was his meant that a little difference in hemoglobin chemistry became a big problem. When the blood cultures had come back with a concerningly low level of hemoglobin, the doctor in charge of his case had started him on the antibiotics as hoped (and Steve forced down bile at the thought that he was needlessly taking something so precious for Grace and other sailors), but had also ordered a barrage of other tests to rule out low iron levels or poor kidney function. Steve had insisted that it wasn’t necessary but the doctor had literally ordered him to “Lie the hell down, Commander McGarrett,” and rest.
Steve had waited for two hours before he cracked, pulled the IV out of his hand (‘My my, isn’t this becoming quite the habit’ a very Danny-like voice sounded in his head) and made a run for it. He’d narrowly missed being spotted by his nurse by ducking into the supply closet (sadly not the dispensary), and then realized that the alarm had been sounded for his disappearance. The hospital staff, believing to have a sick and possibly delirious man wandering around the hospital, had set all spare hands to searching for him. It seems it is a light day in the ward. Just his damn luck.
So he finds himself stuck, waiting for what he’s not quite sure. A window of opportunity to make his escape would be good. A diversion would be excellent. He wonders if it’s too much to hope that something will explode on the street outside and draw all the personnel away. If only he’d had the foresight to set something up on the way in. Danny would just love that.
A while later, Steve realizes that it has been a few minutes since he heard anyone go past the door. He pushes it open tentatively and peers out. The hallway is deserted so he creeps out, stretching his back and arm muscles with relief. He takes a few steps down the hallway before remembering the exit is in the other direction. He turns. And runs into his nurse.
“Half the hospital has been looking for you, Commander,” she admonishes.
“I, uh, wanted to use the bathroom,” Steve stammers nervously. He adds a realistic cough for good measure. “I got lost and couldn’t find my way back to my room.”
The nurse looks skeptical. “I’m sure you did. Well the good news for you, and blessedly me too because it means I’m no longer responsible for you, is that the tests came back clear. The doctor is satisfied that your chest infection is the worst of it and I’m on my way to the dispensary to get you some penicillin to take with you tomorrow.”
“I’m still shipping out on time?” Steve asks hopefully, although it’s not at all his deployment that concerns him.
The nurse nods. “Yes. Your CO at the base is very concerned that you ship out as scheduled. You will be able to continue receiving treatment aboard your transport ship and the doctor is happy with that. Now, if you think you can find your room,” she says slightly sarcastically, “It’s that third one on the left there, I will return with your prescription.”
She steps neatly around Steve and continues down the hallway. She wonders how sick the commander must be to become so lost only doors from his own room. The Navy works these men entirely too hard for their good health. She hopes that the sailor has a better sense of direction in the open sea. Maybe he just can’t find his way around without stars and a compass.
* * *
Steve jumps out of the jeep and slaps the Ensign on the back. “Thanks for the ride, buddy.”
He runs up the drive and into the dark house, shouting for Danny and not stopping to close the front door behind him. “Danny, I got it.” He sprints up the stairs, taking them three at a time, slamming into the turn in the middle and crawling the rest of the way up as fast as he can.
He reaches the door to his room and pauses, afraid of what he is going to see inside. His single minded focus for the last few hours has had him running on adrenaline and worry and now that he is back, he fears he is too late.
“Steve?” Danny opens the door and grabs Steve’s forearm. He drags him into the room and into a fierce embrace, only to push him back roughly a few moments later. “Where the hell have you been, huh? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Gone for almost half the day without a word, which at the best of times is not good but when I know you’ve gone off on a cockamamie mission that could get you thrown into the brig…”
“Danny!” Steve stops him with a hand over his mouth. “I got the penicillin.” He looks towards the bed where Grace is sleeping fitfully.
“You got it?”
Steve nods. “I have enough to last someone Grace’s size for almost a full course.”
Danny’s angry features melt into a wide grin and he pulls the insane sailor back to him again. “Oh my god, Steve. I don’t know what we would have done if you’d been caught.”
“Well I wasn’t,” Steve pats him reassuringly on the back. “Now, let’s give her the first dose. It should start to make a difference by morning.”
* * *
Kamekona stands in the doorway to the little upstairs room, taking in the scene within. It’s not one he ever expected to see Steve McGarrett, determined to the core and devoted to the service, being a part of. He’s known the man since he was only a boy, seen him excel at sports and heard the stories of girls and pranks. He watched him join the service the day he was able and saw the willingness to serve turn into almost a single minded obsession after the death of his grandfather on that fateful day which dragged his home into the war.
But now, Kamekona thinks to himself, Steve looks happy. Despite being exhausted and worried from the events of the last 48 hours, or maybe because of them, he looks like he has found some peace. Figuratively and literally, if the way his arms and fingers are entangled with Danny’s as they sleep slumped over the edge of Grace’s bed is any indication.
He He hates to wake them but he knows that the Navy waits for no man.
“Stevie?” Kamekona whispers and gently shakes his friend’s shoulder. Steve lifts his head from where it’s been resting on the bed, a crease running down his left cheek from a fold in the comforter.
“Kame.” Steve inhales. “It’s time?”
The Hawaiian nods. “Yeah. You got an hour until your transport arrives.”
“Thanks.”
Kamekona nods and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind him.
“Danny?” Steve prods at him.
“I’m awake,” he mumbles. “If I refuse to get up, do you have to stay?”
Steve chuckles softly. “If only it worked that way, Danno.”
Danny looks up, his eyes bleary and red rimmed. “What’d I tell you about calling me that?” He can’t really work up the energy to make his scowl look at all threatening.
“You love it.” Steve stands and stretches. “Danny, I can’t say how long I will be gone for. Or if I will even make...”
“Hey,” Danny snaps. “None of that talk, you hear me?”
“But Danny, realistically…”
“No, Steve. Not thinking about this realistically. I mean, I know that you getting hurt or worse out there is a very real possibility, I see the results of your work every day, Steve. But I will be thinking about this with hope and looking forward to the end of this godforsaken war. That I will do. We’re not going to sit around wringing our hands when there’s work to be done.”
“Aww,” Steve pouts, trying to lighten the mood again, because he’s been dreading this goodbye so much. “So you won’t be tying a yellow ribbon around the old oak tree for me, Danno?”
“I’d have to plant one first,” Danny snorts. “Maybe a palm tree.”
“Promise?” Steve nuzzles Danny’s hair.
“I’ll see what I can do,” the detective says mysteriously.
Steve presses a kiss to Danny’s temple. “I’m gonna go wash up. We should have a big supply of hot water now Grace has stopped coughing.”
“Thanks to you, Babe,” Danny scrubs at his eyes. Because he’s tired. Really.
Steve shrugs. “It’s nothing. If you could’ve, you’d have done the same.”
“It wasn’t nothing at all,” Danny shakes his head. “But you knew the risks, I’m not going to keep reminding you.” He stands and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist. Steve can feel the difference between this embrace and the one they shared last night. The weight of Danny’s fear for his daughter was tangible and now, since her fever broke in the small hours of the morning, he feels light and more like the Danny he first met in this room a week ago.
“What I will keep doing,” Danny continues, “Is keep reminding you how grateful I am that you washed up into our lives. Like Guardian seaweed.”
“Seaweed?” Steve chuckes.
“I don’t know what sea creatures live around this volcanic rock, other than the dolphins Grace loves, and you don’t really seem like the dolphiny type.”
“There’s the liloholoikauaua,” Steve suggests.
“The lilo what now?”
“Hawaiian monk seal. They’re agile in the water and love to dive.”
“Oh they do, do they,” Danny presses teasing kisses to Steve’s jawline.
“Yes. They are also very cute.”
“And modest.”
“Yup.”
Danny shakes his head and pushes Steve towards the bathroom. “You’d better get yourself ship shape, Sailor.”
“Yeah?” Steve grabs hold of Danny’s shirt collar and drags him with him. “Maybe you’d better supervise me in there.” He bends down and whispers in his partner’s ear. “Does that sound like something you’re interested in?”
Danny shoots a look over his shoulder to Grace, sleeping peacefully and fever free. “Yeah,” he nods, his voice thick and heavy. “Yeah, it does.”
* * *
Steve looks out the window of his transport jeep, watching the familiar Honolulu sights slide past in the dim evening light. It’s been almost two years since he was last here, since his ship sank off the coast and he found himself falling in love with an opinionated detective from New Jersey. Two years of letters and postcards and drawings from Grace, addressed to ‘Uncle Steve’ and signed ‘Love Gracie’. Every one of them is folded carefully in between his shirts in his duffel bag. Steve wrote back whenever he could, often sending a few weeks worth of mail at the same time.
He only hopes that the sentiments Danny shared with him in their last moments together haven’t changed in the long time apart. That the stress of wartime hasn’t changed his mind about the two of them being together, because if Danny and Grace will have him, Steve plans to stick around. He’s been assigned to liaise between the navy and HPD in returning the islands to civilian control.
Lost in his daydreaming, Steve doesn’t notice that the jeep is turning into his street until the Petty officer driving looks at him and smiles. “You got family waiting for you, Sir?” he asks politely.
“I sure hope so,” Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times, suddenly finding it dry. His stomach is doing flip-flops like he hasn’t felt since high school. It’s so different to the nervous energy before a mission. This he has no control over at all. He’d had word sent to Danny that he was being transferred back and would be arriving tonight but there had been no time to wait for a reply.
He thanks the driver and slings his duffel over his shoulder, striding up the path and around the bend to the front gate proper. He stops and swallows hard at the sight that greets him. Grace and Danny stand by the open gate and she is holding a small palm tree in a pot. There’s a big, gaudy, bright yellow ribbon tied around the thin stem.
Steve doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or cry but at this point, he doesn’t really care.
“Steve!” Grace shrieks, dropping the pot and sprinting towards him, launching herself into his arms. He catches her and spins her in the air. Danny follows at a more sedate pace.
“Hey,” Danny grins, adding his arms to the two pairs already wrapped around each other. “Welcome home, Sailor.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks hopefully, so much meaning in one simple word.
Danny nods. “Yeah, Steve.”
“Steve, come on, we have dinner all cooked and presents for you and Mommy said I can stay for three whole days. I get to miss school,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Oh, and we painted the chairs white again!”
Steve laughs at her enthusiasm and brushes tears out of his eyes. “You did?”
“Yup,” Danny nods. “The very day that they declared peace, we were out there with paint and brushes, returning them to their rightful colour.”
The trio make their way up the path to the house, Grace clinging to Steve like the monkey that she is and chattering excitedly about their plans, Danny’s arm wrapped around Steve’s waist like they’d not spent any time apart at all.
The palm lays forgotten on the grass by the gate, the ribbon blowing gently in the cool Hawaiian breeze.