Disclaimer: They're not mine. I wish! Then I could live in Hawaii...
Warnings: Here there be violence. And bad language. Hence the T rating.
PS. NO SLASH HERE. I mean it. NONE. Even though there are basically only two characters here, and even though I named it Ass-Grabbing, there is absolutely, positively NO SLASH here. Just so that we're clear on that up front.
PSS. I LOVE reviews. Please click the button at the bottom and tell me what you think of the way I spent most of the last three hours...
Situation Unchanged: Still Fucked Up
Danny was just beginning to come around when he suddenly felt something touch his butt. He jumped slightly in his chair, jerking his arms painfully. What the hell? Oh, yeah.
"Danny?" He barely recognized his partner's gravelly voice.
"Yes, Steve?" Danny's voice was strained and quiet.
"You back with me?"
"No, Steve." Danny couldn't resist snarking, despite the terrible thumping in his head. "My arms are handcuffed through the back of someone else's chair." He paused, thinking painfully. "And I think I wish I was still unconscious."
"I'm glad you're not." Steve whispered. "You were out a long time."
"Yeah, well... concussion."
"Can you see?"
"Blurry." Danny didn't mention the multiple images; every time he closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again, there were fewer boxes in front of him. He figured he'd get back to single vision soon enough, at this rate.
"We still need to get out of here."
"I seem to remember having this conversation with you once before. The first time we woke up in this warehouse after getting our asses grabbed by the very gang we were trying to rescue hostages from."
"Yeah, but... SUSFU."
"Soos-foo?" Danny rolled his eyes, even if his partner couldn't see it. "Why must you insist on using military terms when there are perfectly good, normal acronyms like FUBAR to express yourself with?"
"FUBAR is military. And you should learn SUSFU: Situation Unchanged: Still Fucked Up."
Danny groaned. "You're right. SUSFU is my whole life since you."
Steve sighed heavily, wincing. This was an argument they played out weekly. Or more. Danny accused him of being a trouble magnet; Steve pointed out that police work wasn't without risks; Danny used the statistics sent back with the last batch of requisitions from supply to point out, again, that they used twice as much ammo as SWAT and went through tac vests at six times the rate the average HPD officer did and were therefore getting shot at at least six times as much, and therefore his lifespan was being considerably shortened by knowing Steve; Steve would tell him, once again, that he knew he'd never really want to give up being part of 5-0 because even though he might hate the danger, Danny really did like putting the bad guys away. Danny would get the last word, of course, reiterating that he was dangerous, but Steve knew he'd still have his back. Even if FUBAR and SNAFU did seem to describe their situation more often than Steve liked.
Wait a minute! Steve realized he'd had the entire argument in his head; Danny hadn't said a thing. And Quiet Danny is B-A-D. "You still with me, Danny?"
"Huh?" Danny blinked. "You ask a question?"
"Did you just conk out on me again?"
"Don't think so." Danny started to shake his head in an attempt to clear away the cobwebs, but stopped immediately as the pain spiked, the room spun, and the bile rose in his throat. Swallowing it down, he groaned.
"You hurt other than the concussion?"
Steve's worried tone stopped Danny from replying acidly, but he couldn't completely hold back the sarcasm. In fact, it was practically dripping from his lips as he replied, "Bruised as all hell from that beat-down, but I don't think anything's broken. You?"
"Of course you are."
"Ready to make a break for it while the going's good?"
Danny sighed. "I'm exhausted and we're both beat up. Couldn't we wait a couple hours, build up our strength, and hope we get rescued in the meantime?"
"No." Steve's steely determination made Danny sigh again. "They might come back and beat on us some more. We can't afford to wait."
"Did it escape you that we are still back-to-back, with our arms cuffed through each others' chairs? If we move, we'll most likely only hurt ourselves more."
"Not if we grab on to each other and move together," Steve said.
"That's still no guarantee."
"It's better than nothing."
Danny fidgeted in his handcuffs. "You know, it doesn't help matters that the only thing I can reach right now is your ass."
Steven managed a hoarse bark of laughter. "Some people might consider that a positive. A lot of people think I have a nice ass."
Danny's eyes widened. "NO! Just, no. Nuh-um. No, no, no, no, no. Hell, no," he swore. Muttering quietly, he added, "I can not believe he just went there. Even for Steve, that's just too far."
Steve made a gargling sound that might have been a chuckle. Danny wasn't sure; the punch to the throat during the original take-down and the subsequent beating had really thrown off Steve's tones. Even his normal voice had a strangled tinge to it that Danny didn't care for.
"Good, you're pissed."
"WHAT?" Danny practically screamed. "You're happy that I'm pissed? What the hell is wrong with you, McGarrett? Because in case you missed it, we are supposed to be on the same team here!"
"Danny. DANNY!" Steve raised his voice to interrupt the rant. "Maybe it's failed to register with you, but I've noticed that you always get a second wind to rant when someone pisses you off. Which means you now have the energy to try to help us escape."
"Are you serious?" Danny hissed. "You pissed me off on purpose to liven me up?"
"What can I say, anger energizes you. I had to tap into it." Steve paused. "Now, before we waste all of our energy arguing, can I suggest we try to move before those idiots come back?"
"For the record, I still think this is an asinine idea. Either or both of us could very easily dislocate our shoulders trying to move like this."
Steve knew Danny was right about that. But still... "Would you rather sit here and do nothing?"
Danny sighed. "You sure the cavalry's not coming?"
It was Steve's turn to sigh. "Not any time soon. You know the list of gang properties we had to look through for the hostages was as long as your arm. And the list I gave Chin and Kono was just as long. Best case scenario, they found the original hostages and freed them. Machigasura did say that we screwed up their original plan.
"But you know as well as I do that if they did find the hostages, that means there was probably a gunfight or something to free them. They'd have to take the hostages to the hospital, collect statements, process the scene, book the gang members there, maybe interrogate some of them... a whole shitload of stuff that would take up their time before they could even get around to missing you and your knowledge of the most expedient way to fill out paperwork. The BAMF twins could even have been injured themselves, they could be stuck in the hospital...
"Or they could have tried to call us," Steve continued, "and found out that we're unreachable, and have come looking for us. In which case, they'll have two dozen places to check, and it'll be three days from now by the time they get through the list. Or, it's entirely possible that this gang has laid traps in more locations than just this one, and Chin and Kono are now tied to chairs and getting beaten, or dead.
"Gee, you're just Mr. Positive today, aren't you?" Danny replied.
"You seriously think I haven't weighed all the possibilities?"
"Yeah, but how about not sitting here imagining Chin and Kono going through the same shit we are?"
"Does that idea piss you off?"
"Good, mission accomplished. Now grab on and let's try to skootch about six inches to your left."
Danny reluctantly followed instructions, but not without growling, "If you ever even so much as insinuate to another person that I had to grab your a- hold on where I'm holding on to you at this moment- I will kill you. Slowly and painfully."
"Come on, Danno, you know you love me."
"Not like that."
"Likewise." Steve grunted. "Hold up a second." Danny heard him wheeze slightly as he drew a deep breath in. It was worrisome. He couldn't remember his stamina outpacing Steve's. Ever.
"Hey, SuperSEAL, you're not back there trying to move with a punctured lung or something, are you?"
" 'M fine." Steve wheezed.
"Sure you are." Idiot, he thought. Can't even admit he's hurt when it's perfectly obvious, even without being able to see him.
" 'Kay. Let's go." Steve grunted.
They both grabbed on to each other again and shifted the chairs six inches closer to the goal in the weirdest three-legged race ever attempted.
Two feet later, the door opened. Danny saw it, immediately dropped the chair back to the floor, and whispered. "Stop! They're back."
He was even more worried when he felt Steve not only quit trying to move his chair, but slump backwards in it, Steve's head lolling against the back of his own.
"Steve? Steve!" He hissed vehemently. Shit. He looked back at their captors. Double shit. We are so FUBAR right now.