Disclaimer: I don't own them, CBS and Peter Lenkov and who knows who else does. I'm just going to have some fun with them but I promise to put them back after I'm done in perfect working condition. Okay maybe not perfect but as good as new.
Warning: mention of domestic abuse and violence against minors (but not in a graphic way, it's merely hinted at), and yes the characters act like real people so there's cursing
Summary: Danny – Steve – arguments – demands for a time-out – old buddies form Jersey – big bust – dinner with friends – deranged boyfriend – rainstorm – disaster strikes. These are the ingredients for a perfectly normal weekend for Five-0. Set in season two.
Mistaken – Chapter 01 - Teaser
Unknown location - Saturday 1 am
Steve comes slowly awake and the first thing he's aware of is the pain in his ankle. But it only takes a few seconds for the pain in his gut to chime in; he curls in on himself only to realize that his hands are cuffed behind his back. He's lying on a rough and wet surface and the moisture and cold of the wet stone are creeping into his body. He's shivering and he's not sure if it's just the cold or the pain that is pulsing through his battered body.
He's dizzy and nauseous, his ankle's on fire, his head's gonna explode any second, but it's his gut that makes him groan loudly. He's suffering incredible cramps like his intestines are being ripped apart. Steve's trying to breathe through the unbearable pain - without much success.
"It's from the drug," a voice is penetrating his pain filled brain. "Takes another hour or so to abate."
"Wha. . .who. . .?"
"We'll talk later Mick, enjoy the next hour," with that the voice is gone.
And Steve is left behind, alone in a dimly lit bunker-like room with a very high ceiling wondering who the hell 'Mick' is. He can barely make out an opening that is covered with heavy bars and the light rain is coming down on him, soaking him even some more. The room must have some openings because he can feel a slight breeze going through the room, making the room a lot colder than it is. His ankle is chained to a post that is embedded into the floor and his hands are cuffed behind his back.
He has no idea how long he's been lying on the floor for but according to his bladder it must be for some hours. There's no way he can relieve himself without peeing his pants. No one but himself would blame him, but he's not at the point to let go yet. Besides the pain in his gut is all consuming again and he's forgotten his need to pee for the time being. He's writhing on the floor hoping for the painful cramping to stop, to give him another minute to breathe again. This second wave of pain is even worse than the first one. Five minutes later he's screaming in agony. By then he's soiled after losing control, which doesn't really matter since he's completely soaked anyway.
It takes more than ten minutes for the cramping to finally stop again, leaving him panting and completely worn out. He's lying on the cold ground closing his eyes for a minute and trying to catch his breath and praying that the pain won't come back.
He's shivering in earnest now, soaked and chilled to the bone. His head is still a little fuzzy and the nausea hasn't abated yet. He tries to figure out how he ended up here, wherever 'here' is. But the only thing he comes up with is that he left HQ after they finished with their latest case and that he got into his truck, everything else is just blank.
His head is throbbing mercilessly and his vision is blurry, a sure sign of a concussion. If the pain, memory loss and nausea is any indication it's a bad one. He's just kind of breathing normally again when the pain slams into him anew. Steve tries to curl himself into a ball as much as he can but it's doing nothing to lessen the agony that's ripping him apart. He hears himself scream again and just doesn't care, he's never felt pain like that before. He can't breathe, his vision is tunneling and he just hopes to pass out. When the pain spreads to his upper belly his body mercifully gives out on him and he slips into blissful darkness.
H50 – H50 – H50