To Dance With Danger

Chapter One

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, putting every nerve on alert, sending his senses into overdrive. Danny tensed and his eyes locked with Steve's. With a fluid nod, his partner turned and thrust the back of his boot into the door. It sprang open and Danny smoothly jumped through, sweeping his gun in a wide arc as he cleared the entryway and moved towards the staircase. He sensed Steve behind him and traded glances with his partner. They didn't need words to announce his intention of heading upstairs. Silently, Steve left the upper levels to Danny while he moved into the living room.

Two HPD cops were even now breaching the back door, tasked with helping Danny and Steve clear and search the house. Chin and Kono were leading a battalion of other HPD cops in a search of the barn and outbuildings.

The case was a bad one. Six prostitutes tortured and murdered in the past six months. Autopsies had revealed the women had been kept alive for several days before their assailant had finally grown tired of playing with them, and had slit their throats. Very little headway had been made in the case until two nights ago. When a female undercover went missing, the Governor had called in 5-0. There was a chance Officer Yoshimi Ito was still alive, but the odds grew slimmer with every passing hour.

Just when they'd run out of leads, they'd finally gotten a break. A homeless woman claimed to have seen a man force a woman fitting Yoshimi's description into a white van. Chin and Kono had worked their magic with traffic cams in the area and had gotten a license plate. That in turn had led them here, to the home of one Harold Jeong. An unremarkable man with an unremarkable job who had undoubtedly done unspeakable things.

A door banged open upstairs and a woman's scream pierced the air.

"Steve," Danny yelled, "Up here!"

Danny gripped his gun and charged up the rest of the stairwell. As he hit the landing, he warily began to edge along the hallway.

A woman, her naked body covered in blood staggered out of a nearby doorway. Her feet were dragging on the flooring, catching on each other, making her stumble. She staggered against the opposite wall and fell to the floor with an agonized moan.

Danny lunged forward even as the woman began a desperate slow crawl down the hallway.

"Yoshimi?" Danny called, sprinting towards the brutalized woman.

She looked up, her brown eyes catching Danny's and widening in disbelief. She let out a small sob and nodded as Danny reached down to pull her to her feet.

Yoshimi gasped in pain. She cast a terrified glance towards the doorway from which she'd just escaped.

"He's…coming…" she cried, her chest heaving.

It happened fast. Danny swung around at the blur of motion in the corner of his eye. Harold Jeong stood in the doorway, blood pouring from a wound in his head, a gun drawn in his hand.

Danny shoved Yoshimi behind him and was about to raise his weapon when the first bullet hit him. Two more shots followed, driving Danny backwards.

Pain exploded in Danny's chest and his legs turned to rubber. He felt himself falling. His lungs screamed for air. His gun slipped through numbed fingers. His vision grayed out and distantly he thought he heard Yoshimi shriek and Steve yell.

There was no time. Blood pounded in Danny's head. Jeong's legs brushed past him. Yoshimi sobbed in terror. Unsteadily, Danny lashed out, wrapping his arms around Jeong's lower body and throwing all his weight against him. Blindsided by the unexpected tackle, Jeong went down, his gun skittering across the hardwood flooring.

With an enraged holler, Jeong kicked and bucked, struggling to loosen Danny's hold on him. Tenaciously, Danny hung on, fingers finding a purchase in the pockets of Jeong's jeans. The two men fought and rolled, twisting and turning. Viciously Jeong kicked out at his attacker, pummeled Danny's head and shoulders with his hands, but Danny refused to let go.

Half blind from pain and lack of air, Danny didn't notice how close they were to the staircase until he and Jeong plummeted over the edge. A tangled heap, they pitched head over heels, helpless against the rules of gravity that forced them downward, their bodies bouncing off of unyielding plywood until finally coming to a crashing halt at the bottom.

Danny groaned. Or at least he thought he did. His ears were ringing so loudly he couldn't hear much of anything. He tried opening his eyes, but it just made the room spin so badly that his stomach cramped with nausea. He squeezed them shut, swallowing against the rising taste of bile in the back of his throat.

Vaguely he became aware of Chin and Steve's presence at his side. Strong hands held the sides of his head in a vise, holding it still. Narrowly he opened his eyes, squinting cautiously upwards. Chin peered down at him, dark eyes liquid with concern.

Danny's chest was so tight he could barely breathe. He clutched at his chest in panic, his fingers tangling with Steve's arms. He opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to suck in air.

"Easy, Danny," Steve murmured, gently pushing Danny's hands back down to his sides. "I'm trying to get the vest off. Just don't move, okay? Paramedics are on the way."

After what seemed like an eternity to Danny, the vest finally loosened and Steve carefully maneuvered it free from Danny's torso. It helped some, but not a lot. And then Steve pressed his fingers to Danny's ribcage. Danny bucked in pain, a low moan catching in his throat.

"Sorry," Steve set his hands on Danny's shoulders. "Sorry, buddy. Hang in there. EMT's are just a few minutes out."

"Yosh…" Danny gasped, panting shallowly in and out. It felt like he was clinging to consciousness by his very fingernails, and before he lost his grip, he needed to know if Yoshimi was okay. He grit his teeth and forced his eyes open, staring intently at his partner. "How's…Yoshimi?" he ground out.

Steve glanced over him, exchanging a look with Chin.

"Kono's with her," Steve finally said, softly squeezing Danny's shoulder. "Don't try to talk, Danno."

Steve glanced up and Danny saw a look of relief wash over his face. Steve lifted one hand and waved, calling, "Over here."

The clatter of a gurney came next. And then two baby-faced men joined the faces peering down at him from above. An oxygen mask was placed over his nose and mouth, and finally the cobwebs filling his brain began to clear. At about the same time he felt a sharp pinch in the back of his hand. It took him a moment to realize one of the paramedics was talking to him.

"…Detective Williams. Can you hear me? Danny?"

Danny's attempt to nod was cut short by a tightening of Chin's fingers around his temples and jawline.

"Can you squeeze my hand, Danny?" the paramedic said as he slid his fingers into the palm of Danny's right hand.

"Yeah," Danny winced as he forced his eyes open. He squeezed his fingers around the paramedic's hand even as he felt his shirt being unbuttoned, and a brush of cool air against his exposed skin.

He groaned as fingers gently probed his ribcage, and felt the cool burn of a stethoscope on his chest as the paramedic gripped his other hand and asked him to squeeze for the second time.

He couldn't deal with it. There was too much going on at once. His senses were in overload. His body was out of his control. He was at the mercy of the paramedics, and even though they tried to explain to him what they were doing, he couldn't keep up. Time kept slipping. Seconds sliding into minutes. Or maybe he was just fading in and out.

He felt his arm rotated out to the side and something was wrapped tightly around his bicep. It squeezed his upper arm until it hurt. His mind was just making the connection to a blood pressure cuff when a pair of hands traveled down his legs, hitting a tender spot on his right knee that made him cry out in pain.

He squirmed as that same pair of hands trapped his knee in a stiff splint and then lightening quick his neck was captured by the hard plastic of a cervical collar. It bit uncomfortably into his chin. He panicked. Danny knew they were only trying to help him, but there were too many hands on his body, holding him, keeping him still as they rolled him over, and then rolled him back onto a hard unyielding surface. His head was strapped down and his arms firmly secured over his abdomen so tightly, that movement was impossible. His heart picked up speed and even though he hadn't thought it was possible, it got even harder to breathe.

The world suddenly tilted and he was lifted up into the air before being set down on the gurney. He was dizzy, his body breaking out into a cold sweat, and he was sure he was going to be sick.

Then he felt Steve's hand on his arm. He knew it was Steve, recognized those long fingers and the gentle squeeze. Heard the reassuring tones of Steve's voice even if he couldn't make out the words. His stomach settled and the tightness in his chest eased just a little. The gurney bounced along, but Steve's hand never broke contact, not even when the gurney was lifted up into the ambulance.

With Steve's steady presence at his side, his mind began to wander to Yoshimi Ito and Harold Jeong. He didn't know if either of them was alive. Danny couldn't help but hope Jeong hadn't survived the fall. If he was dead, there'd be no need for defense lawyers, trials and deals. With him gone, the evil he'd brought into the world would have gone out with him.

He must have faded out again because the next thing he knew someone was forcing his eyelid open and spearing him with a bright light. Pain spiked in his head and he moaned. Powerless to close his eyelid, move his head or lift his arms, he felt his eye tearing until the assault was finally over. The reprieve lasted only seconds, as the torture was repeated on his other eye.

When the light was finally removed, he was embarrassed to feel tears trailing down his cheeks.

There was a slight pat on his shoulder, and a gruff voice said, "Sorry about that Detective Williams. Looks like you have a bit of a concussion. Not surprising, considering the fall you took."

"Steve?" Danny slurred. But there was no reassuring whisper in his ear or comforting squeeze of his fingers in response.

"Your partner's waiting outside," a soft female voice sounded from somewhere off to the side.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut, mortified that his tears refused to stop flowing. But he was scared and despite the medical personnel hovering over him, he felt completely alone. Completely helpless. Gloved fingers palpated, poked and prodded nearly every inch of his body, they worked their slow torturous way along his legs and arms, stomach and ribcage. He cried out at the pain. He moaned as they pressed their stethoscopes firmly against his chest, marching the cold bell inch by inch from his shoulders to his abdomen, the pressure making every breath even more painful than it already was.

And all he wanted was Steve. To hold his hand. To tell him that everything was going to be okay. Because he was terrified that it wasn't.

He shivered miserably. They'd removed his shoes and socks, cut away his pants, boxers, and shirt. They'd draped a thin hospital gown over him but it did nothing to protect him from the cold. Someone must have seen because suddenly he was covered to the neck by a blanket, though it took a while for the shivers to stop.

He'd faded out again after that, because he didn't remember them taking the X-Rays that allowed him to be released from the C-collar and backboard. Didn't remember being taken down for a CT scan. But when he woke up he was no longer restrained, the head of his gurney had been slightly raised, his knee was braced and propped on a pillow and the oxygen mask had been replaced by a nasal cannula.

Danny tried to focus, to concentrate and listen as the doctor pulled a stool next to the gurney and explained to him what was going on. He thought he must have faded out again because the next thing he knew, Steve was there. His partner was giving him a big shit eating grin as he leaned over the rails of the gurney. Just as if he were looking at a brand new shipment of tear gas grenades and not his broken partner. Danny couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"Detective Williams? You back with us?" The doctor gave Danny a scrutinizing look.

"Hey Danny," Steve lightly squeezed his shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

Danny's fingers twitched at his side and Steve enveloped his hand with his own, holding it firmly but gently. Danny gazed up at his partner, drinking him in, feeling grounded for the first time since he'd fallen down those stairs with Jeong. But there was worry and concern in Steve's eyes, his forehead was pinched, his mouth a little tighter than normal. And Danny was sorry that he was the one who had caused it.

"Danny?" Steve rubbed Danny's wrist gently with his thumb and leaned forward. "Talk to me buddy, you okay?"

For Steve, Danny made the effort. Steve carried enough pain without him adding to the burden. He inhaled, wincing in discomfort, and only managing a weak whisper. "Chest hurts…kinda hard to breathe…can't…focus."

"You took quite a hit to both your head and your chest," the doctor murmured, his eyes somber with concern. "Do you remember my name?"

Carefully Danny shook his head - no. He didn't remember actually speaking to the doctor before now.

"I'm Dr. Carry. We've actually met a couple of times now, but short-term memory loss is very common with head injuries. Luckily, you managed to avoid any fractures or bleeds. We'll run one more follow up CT to be sure, but I'm not too worried."

"What are you worried about, Doc?" Steve interjected, his fingers subconsciously tightening around Danny's, the blue of his eyes flattening into grey and if it was at all possible, the set of his jaw became even sterner. He looked for all the world as if he was about to go into battle. But on this battlefield, there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Danny gripped Steve's hand, tugging gently at his fingers until Steve tore his eyes away from the doctor's and glanced down at him. Danny felt his breath catch in his throat at the intensity of that gaze and knew it had nothing to do with the injuries to his chest.

"Stand down babe…okay?" Danny murmured. He held onto Steve's eyes until the other man finally nodded, the lines on his face relaxing just slightly. Only then did Danny turn to look at his doctor. Carefully he took a breath. "Give it…to me straight…Doc. What's…wrong with me?"

Dr. Carry smiled reassuringly at Danny. "We have two areas of concern. First, your chest took quite a hit when you were shot. So far, I'm encouraged by the results of all your cardiac tests. I think we got lucky there as I'm not seeing any damage to your heart. You do, however, have a serious pulmonary contusion, along with a sternal fracture. Both are going to leave you in some pain for a while."

"And the second thing?" Danny asked. He shifted slightly in the bed, wincing at the sharp ache that blossomed in his chest and abdomen.

"The CT turned up a grade one splenic tear," Dr. Carry said.

"Will Danny have to have surgery?" Steve interjected sharply, his eyes darting worriedly towards his partner.

"Not necessarily," Dr. Carry flipped through Danny's chart. "Danny's vitals are stable and as long as they stay that way the tear will most likely resolve itself."

"Bottom line it, Doc," Danny said hoarsely, his mind having difficulty processing the medicalese. He just needed to know, in simple terms, if he was going to be okay. He felt Steve's fingers tremble and then they tightened around Danny's hand.

"It means that for at least the next twenty four to forty eight hours you're going to be a guest in our Surgical Intensive Care Unit while we keep an eye on your pulmonary contusion as well as the splenic tear," Dr. Carry explained kindly. "We'll treat you with oxygen and analgesics and with any luck, neither condition will get any worse than it already is."

"And if it does?" Danny asked. His head was spinning, and he wasn't sure if it was because of his struggle for oxygen or his struggle to understand the doctor's words.

"Worst case scenario for the pulmonary contusion is that we have to put you on a ventilator while we give your lungs time to heal," Dr. Carry said somberly. "As for your spleen, if it ruptures, then surgical intervention would be necessary. But these are worst case scenarios," the doctor reminded Danny as he closed Danny's chart. "Even if they come to pass, that's why we're keeping you in intensive care. So in the meantime, and I know it's hard, try not to worry about it. The best thing you can do is rest, okay?

Danny closed his eyes and nodded, but he wasn't all that reassured by his doctor's words. Cut through all the crap and it came down to one thing: wait and see. He couldn't even assure Gracie he was going to be okay without possibly making a liar out of him.

Dr. Carry patted him gently on the shoulder. "The orderlies should be here shortly to take you up to the SICU. I'll check in on you later."

"Can I go up with him?" Steve asked, though it wasn't really a question. The tone in Steve's voice made it clear there was only one acceptable response.

"Of course," Dr. Carry nodded. "Once there, just give the nurses a few minutes to get him settled."

Steve glanced down at Danny. "I should call Rachel."

Danny shook his head. It was irrational, but he didn't want Rachel to know. He didn't want Grace sensing something was wrong.

Steve sighed. "Danny, the press doesn't have your name yet, but it's only a matter of time. It'd be better if they didn't find out that way, don't you think?"

"Shit," Danny breathed. He closed his eyes and chewed on his bottom lip before finally looking back up at Steve and nodding.

"I'll make sure Rachel keeps Gracie away from the local news," Steve assured Danny softly.

"Rachel's gonna have to tell her," Danny said limply in defeat. "Or one of her friends might end up texting her first." He looked up at Steve and pleaded, "Tell them not to come down here. I don't..." Danny groaned, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead as a band of pain gripped his chest. He gasped for air. His eyes watered and he turned panicked eyes towards Steve.

"Just breathe, Danno," Steve soothed, gripping Danny's wrist and laying the palm of his hand on Danny's forehead. "You're okay, just breathe."

Danny panted shallowly, every breath feeling like knives plunging into his breastbone. He dug his fingers into Steve's hand. He saw Steve look over his head, past him, towards the back of the trauma room and then something cool was shooting through his veins. Pain medication, he knew, because the agony began to ease. He felt floaty, his mind fogging up, his hold on consciousness slipping slowly away.

Danny clumsily gripped Steve's hand. Blearily he looked up at him, his eyes wet. His voice was slurred. "Please Steven. Don't want…Gracie…to see this."

"Okay, Danny," Steve nodded, his eyes unwavering as he firmly held on to Danny's hand. "I get it. I'll tell Rachel to bring Grace when you're feeling up to it."

Danny nodded, closing his eyes. Steve was gently running his fingers through his hair. It felt so good. He didn't think to puzzle out that this wasn't typical co-worker behavior. Something nagged at him and he forced his eyes open. "Yoshimi?" he whispered.

Steve sighed, his eyes clouding with sorrow. His hand stilled on the top of Danny's head. "I'm sorry Danny. She bled out before the EMT's even got there."

"And Jeong?" Danny growled, his lips trembling as he clamped them shut.

"They're operating on him right now. He fractured his skull. They don't know if he's going to make it," Steve said softly.

"Good," Danny said, his blue eyes turning to ice. "I hope he dies up there."

"I can't disagree. He would be doing the world a favor," Steve responded quietly. He twined Danny's hair in his fingers. "Don't think about that right now, Danny. Go to sleep. You need to rest."

Under Steve's tender ministrations, Danny's eyes fell closed. His thoughts were a jumble. He was angry and sad. Yoshimi had been a good cop, doing her duty. She'd put her life on the line, using herself as bait to draw Harold Jeong out into the open. It had backfired. It had gotten her killed.

It had almost gotten him killed. He'd taken three bullets to the chest. Catapulted down a flight of stairs. And the jury was still out on whether or not he was going to be okay.

Distantly, Danny felt Steve's hands lift from his head, felt his partner pull away.

Danny's eyes shot open. "Steve?" he moaned.

"It's okay Danny," Steve snagged Danny's hand back. "I was just getting a stool. I'm not going anywhere. Shhh…go back to sleep."

And then Steve's fingers were again gently working their way through his hair. Danny's eyes slid shut. But he couldn't help thinking as he drifted off that what had happened to Yoshimi was a harsh reminder. At some point, everyone's luck ran out. And when the cards were against you, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Tbc..