Parting Thoughts
By LM
The silence of the early morning was shattered by the piercing sound of the alarm clock. It seemed as though he had finally just drifted off to sleep, after a restless night of tossing and turning, minutes before the alarm went off. Slowly, reluctantly Dan rolled onto his side and groped for the alarm button. With the alarm silenced, his arm fell back into bed and he contemplated the time and the tasks that lay before him that day. It was still early, just after 6 am, and he would have liked to go back to sleep but knew it would not come. Wearily, he rose from his bed and headed for the bathroom.
Blindly, he turned on the shower and then paused to look in the mirror as the water warmed up. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He looked terrible and his head pounded with a vague sort of headache. Nice way to start a difficult day, he thought with a sigh. His thoughts were interrupted as the mirror clouded up with steam. He slipped off his pajama pants and stepped into the rushing water. For a moment, he just stood there and let the hot water flow over his head and body. He savored the luxury of the experience realizing he did not know when he might have the privacy of his own shower again.
The hot water felt good on his muscles and inhaling the steam seemed to make his head feel better. The moment's pleasure was interrupted by uninvited thoughts. Just as most of the night, he could not keep the painful thoughts from intruding on his consciousness. "Find the girl, find the gun" he had been told. He had failed at both. But worse than that he had failed Five-O. His actions had given Five-O's critics a chance to take a few more pot shots at the unit Steve had worked so hard to make perfect. He had been off-duty that night. Why didn't he just leave it alone? Couldn't he have left it for an HPD unit? Did he always have to think and react like a cop? He shook his head momentarily clearing most of water from his curly hair and trying to clear his mind of his torturous thoughts. Switching to auto-pilot to finish his shower, he dried himself off and wrapped in his Japanese robe made his way to the kitchen. He didn't really feel like eating but forced himself to prepare a bagel and make some tea. Taking his tea to the lanai, he stood there and watched the island come awake. If he didn't know better, it would seem to be a day like any other day. But on any other day, he would have started it by going for a swim and then heading for the office where he would have had his first cup of coffee. Today, however, he would not go to the office. He had made some decisions last night. He had until this afternoon, but he decided to do it before he had a chance to see anyone from Five-O. He couldn't face Steve, couldn't handle any more of the McGarrett fireworks. He thought it would be better for Five-O if he just did it quietly and alone. In the distance he could see the ocean, blue and inviting. He wondered when he would see it again. Turning away from the lanai, he went back to the kitchen and carefully cleaned and put away his breakfast dishes. He checked the refrigerator for any food that might spoil while he was away and disposed of it. He should consider stopping his mail but decided some other arrangement could probably be made. He didn't have the energy to deal with it.
He walked back to the bathroom and started to shave. His thoughts started to wander again. "He probably didn't even get to shave!" The words rang in his head and he nicked himself with the razor as he came up short. He felt the tears coming again and he shoved them aside as he finished cleaning up. He returned to the bedroom and opening his closet pulled out his grey-green suit and a clean white shirt. Putting on a suit today seemed somewhat pointless but it was in a sense his uniform, his armor. It might help steel his nerves for what he had to do. He put on his watch and pocketed his badge which lay on the dresser. Opening his dresser drawer, he pulled out his gun. He paused and stared at it for a moment. He was tempted to take the bullets out of it and carry it empty; but he didn't. He quickly put the gun in his holster and headed for the front door.
He paused with his hand on the door knob. The harsh words of the TV journalist were ringing in his ears. He had shot an unarmed civilian and he was still at large with a "license to kill". The words had burned a hole in his soul. He had clenched his fists in rage at the end of the editorial as Steve turned off the TV in his office. He had lashed out in his pain and his guilt. It should tear your guts out Steve had answered back in anger. Couldn't Steve see that it already had! Deep down he knew what the situation looked like and knew that the reporter was right. He could barely handle his guilt. He had shot a kid and the kid died. He tried to do the right thing and failed. He had failed the people of Hawaii who trusted cops to protect them, failed Five-O and HPD who trusted him to uphold the dignity and responsibility of his position, and he had failed Steve who had trusted and depended on him like a brother. Until now.
He didn't know what would happen. Even, if he was cleared by the court, would he ever be trusted to uphold the law again? Would he ever be trusted by Steve again? Would he ever be able to trust himself again?
He slowly turned the door handle and opened the door of his apartment. He knew what he had to do. He would turn in his car at the HPD motor pool and then as his last act of freedom take a solitary walk in the sun to HPD central booking. There he would turn in his badge, his gun, and all his personal items. He would sign a few forms, be fingerprinted and then taken to a cell where, what? He would be locked away so that he could do no more harm to anyone; cause no more embarrassment to Five-O; cause Steve no more pain. He couldn't think much more beyond this. With a last look, he shut the door to his apartment and headed for his car.
For the conclusion see "And they Painted Daisies on his Coffin"
By LM
The silence of the early morning was shattered by the piercing sound of the alarm clock. It seemed as though he had finally just drifted off to sleep, after a restless night of tossing and turning, minutes before the alarm went off. Slowly, reluctantly Dan rolled onto his side and groped for the alarm button. With the alarm silenced, his arm fell back into bed and he contemplated the time and the tasks that lay before him that day. It was still early, just after 6 am, and he would have liked to go back to sleep but knew it would not come. Wearily, he rose from his bed and headed for the bathroom.
Blindly, he turned on the shower and then paused to look in the mirror as the water warmed up. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He looked terrible and his head pounded with a vague sort of headache. Nice way to start a difficult day, he thought with a sigh. His thoughts were interrupted as the mirror clouded up with steam. He slipped off his pajama pants and stepped into the rushing water. For a moment, he just stood there and let the hot water flow over his head and body. He savored the luxury of the experience realizing he did not know when he might have the privacy of his own shower again.
The hot water felt good on his muscles and inhaling the steam seemed to make his head feel better. The moment's pleasure was interrupted by uninvited thoughts. Just as most of the night, he could not keep the painful thoughts from intruding on his consciousness. "Find the girl, find the gun" he had been told. He had failed at both. But worse than that he had failed Five-O. His actions had given Five-O's critics a chance to take a few more pot shots at the unit Steve had worked so hard to make perfect. He had been off-duty that night. Why didn't he just leave it alone? Couldn't he have left it for an HPD unit? Did he always have to think and react like a cop? He shook his head momentarily clearing most of water from his curly hair and trying to clear his mind of his torturous thoughts. Switching to auto-pilot to finish his shower, he dried himself off and wrapped in his Japanese robe made his way to the kitchen. He didn't really feel like eating but forced himself to prepare a bagel and make some tea. Taking his tea to the lanai, he stood there and watched the island come awake. If he didn't know better, it would seem to be a day like any other day. But on any other day, he would have started it by going for a swim and then heading for the office where he would have had his first cup of coffee. Today, however, he would not go to the office. He had made some decisions last night. He had until this afternoon, but he decided to do it before he had a chance to see anyone from Five-O. He couldn't face Steve, couldn't handle any more of the McGarrett fireworks. He thought it would be better for Five-O if he just did it quietly and alone. In the distance he could see the ocean, blue and inviting. He wondered when he would see it again. Turning away from the lanai, he went back to the kitchen and carefully cleaned and put away his breakfast dishes. He checked the refrigerator for any food that might spoil while he was away and disposed of it. He should consider stopping his mail but decided some other arrangement could probably be made. He didn't have the energy to deal with it.
He walked back to the bathroom and started to shave. His thoughts started to wander again. "He probably didn't even get to shave!" The words rang in his head and he nicked himself with the razor as he came up short. He felt the tears coming again and he shoved them aside as he finished cleaning up. He returned to the bedroom and opening his closet pulled out his grey-green suit and a clean white shirt. Putting on a suit today seemed somewhat pointless but it was in a sense his uniform, his armor. It might help steel his nerves for what he had to do. He put on his watch and pocketed his badge which lay on the dresser. Opening his dresser drawer, he pulled out his gun. He paused and stared at it for a moment. He was tempted to take the bullets out of it and carry it empty; but he didn't. He quickly put the gun in his holster and headed for the front door.
He paused with his hand on the door knob. The harsh words of the TV journalist were ringing in his ears. He had shot an unarmed civilian and he was still at large with a "license to kill". The words had burned a hole in his soul. He had clenched his fists in rage at the end of the editorial as Steve turned off the TV in his office. He had lashed out in his pain and his guilt. It should tear your guts out Steve had answered back in anger. Couldn't Steve see that it already had! Deep down he knew what the situation looked like and knew that the reporter was right. He could barely handle his guilt. He had shot a kid and the kid died. He tried to do the right thing and failed. He had failed the people of Hawaii who trusted cops to protect them, failed Five-O and HPD who trusted him to uphold the dignity and responsibility of his position, and he had failed Steve who had trusted and depended on him like a brother. Until now.
He didn't know what would happen. Even, if he was cleared by the court, would he ever be trusted to uphold the law again? Would he ever be trusted by Steve again? Would he ever be able to trust himself again?
He slowly turned the door handle and opened the door of his apartment. He knew what he had to do. He would turn in his car at the HPD motor pool and then as his last act of freedom take a solitary walk in the sun to HPD central booking. There he would turn in his badge, his gun, and all his personal items. He would sign a few forms, be fingerprinted and then taken to a cell where, what? He would be locked away so that he could do no more harm to anyone; cause no more embarrassment to Five-O; cause Steve no more pain. He couldn't think much more beyond this. With a last look, he shut the door to his apartment and headed for his car.
For the conclusion see "And they Painted Daisies on his Coffin"