I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: plot bunny suggested by CinderH. I hope you like it! I had GREAT fun writing it. Thank you also for the Beta!
Danny becomes deeply depressed when he learns Rachel's baby likely isn't his child. After helping to deliver another man's child, things escalate. The problem is - he's in a dark place and he didn't tell anyone where he might go or for how long. Loosely based around Season 1 Ep 24 Oia'I'o and Season 2, Ep 14 Pu'Ol
Breaking Point – Chapter 1
Danny's exuberant high that night when Rachel told him about her new pregnancy and her maternal feelings that the baby was undoubtedly "his" couldn't be quelled. In fact, he remembered feeling just a bit more than triumphant – in his ex-wife's true British slang he would have been called "quite chuffed" with himself. His ego was full of self-congratulations, personal high-fives, and sarcastic thoughts of "take that and chew on it, step-Stan."
But many weeks later he found himself with devastating feelings very much the opposite. He had reached the proverbial last straw, gotten a solid kick in the teeth – reached his final breaking point.
He had already left work and was at his apartment when he answered the phone with happy anticipation just a few months ago. Rachel was back in the States and she would have had her first pregnancy exam. But the happy expectations hadn't played out during the phone call and Danny had begun to enter a dark place.
"Danny, I'm so sorry. I doctor says that I've gotten the dates wrong. The baby isn't yours – it must be Stan's.". His ex had wept on the phone for she had truly wanted it to be Danny's child as well. He did know that. But he was past caring and didn't feel like acknowledging her feelings at the time.
In fact, he had missed any and all of her last words. Hanging up in silence, he effectively terminated the conversation, and proceeded to turn off his cell phone completely to deflect and avoid any future calls from Mrs. Rachel Edwards, former wife and current ex-wife of him, Detective Daniel Williams. With a rising anger, Danny threw his cell phone like a small missile across the small, rented unit.
But Rachel had returned to Hawaii – to be with Stan, Grace in tow and Danny had stayed. The even more unsettled routine of sharing Grace resumed with added stress.
That is, until now – and that treacherous day when Danny delivered another man's newborn son. The baby boy that he desperately had wanted to be his own had been born seven days earlier. Danny had been there – again he had stepped up and done the right thing. But this time it hurt and it hurt more deeply than anyone could have imagined.
The rest of the Five-O team had noticed a change in their team-mate after the child's birth. It would have been understandable had he shaken it off after a day or two. But instead he became more sullen, less talkative and seemingly resentful of his job. In fact during a recent arrest, Steve's nonchalant "book 'em, Danno" that was said fully in jest, was met with a stony silence before Danny bluntly said "do it yourself" and stalked off to sit in the Camaro. The rest of the week was nearly impossible for the rest of the team. The growing and misplaced anger of their friend had him refusing to allow Steve drive his car. The dynamic had changed and not for the better.
An uncalled for growl of "get over it McGarrett. It's my car damn-it …." Before departing the office to check on a possible homicide, finally put Steve also over the top.
The two had it out in the office with McGarrett throwing his hands up in the air and telling Danny to go home "just get out of here until you get over this thing – this problem of yours."
So he had left. In fact, he drove aimlessly for hours around Oahu and finally left the city completely as dusk fell. Spontaneously, he swung into a liquor store and purchased the first bottle of whiskey he saw on the shelf. By late evening, the Camaro was close to running out of gas. Danny eventually found himself checking into a remote and dilapidated motel near what seemed to be an unpopular tourist destination. For why would anyone travel to reach this particular place? It was definitely off the beaten path. The beach, if it could be called one, was a natural, tangled mess of roots, trees and rockiness.
Not knowing why he did it, Danny paid the motel owner with cash and asked to not be disturbed. Sam Akana took Danny's money and gave the detective an old room key.
"Room nine, brah. Down at the end". Danny mumbled a brief thanks and left the office.
The guy he gave a key to for room nine simply oozed "COP from his pores", but Sam couldn't have cared less. Money was money and the same color no matter how it came to him. He didn't look for trouble and trouble rarely found Sam Akana. If this gentleman needed some private, quiet time – well then he would have it – who was Sam Akana to interfere with a paying customer?
Danny had nothing to bring in with him from the Camaro. He stared silently into the cars' innards and then locked and left it where it was parked near his room.
That had been three days ago. The baby was now eight days old. Since then, Danny was alternating between laying on the old bed in the room in complete darkness and sitting along on the deserted wild beach near Sam's motel. His gun was often in his hands while in the hotel room. The first bottle of whiskey was long gone. The empty was in the garbage pail in the bathroom. His badge, cell phone with battery long dead had been tossed negligently on the floor.
Currently, it was raining but Danny was outside and sitting on a rock near the water's edge. He had no idea what day of the week it was by this point. Everything had merged together.
"Here you go, brah." And a paper sack was thrust into his hands with two new bottles of whiskey and two sandwiches.
Danny had paid Sam to pick his "supplies" up from the local convenience store. Sam willingly obliged for this newest 'customer" paid quite well.
Looking up with haunted eyes, Danny replied simply. "Thanks." And then went back to staring at the ocean. He was soaked to the skin but didn't feel it.
Hesitating briefly, Sam looked at the man who was in such obvious sadness. "You okay, brah? Sitting out here in the rain isn't so good. You might want to come in now. Sit out here later when this clears up."
Danny sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He forced himself to speak. "The guy means well …."
"You're right." He conceded and put on a strained half-smile for Sam. "I'll do that. Thanks again for picking this stuff up for me." Getting up, he grabbed the bag Sam had brought him and slowly returned to his room.
Sam watched him walk away and enter the motel room, firmly closing the door behind him. With compassion, Sam quietly addressed Danny's departing figure outloud. "You seem like a nice guy, brah. Hope it works out for you." And Sam also went inside to his office in an effort to escape the rain.
Locking the door, Danny opened the second bottle and took a long swig of the whiskey. It burned as it went down and did very little to make him feel better. But he did feel warmer on the inside from the chilly rain.
He pulled one of the sandwiches out of the bag and opened the wrapper. But he couldn't bring himself to take more than a bite before leaving it on the side table near the bed.
Still wet, for he had no change of clothes, he sat on the bed up against the headboard. Pillows piled up behind his back. Spying his gun on the same side table by the bed, he settled both the bottle and the gun in his lap and turned on the TV. The gun was familiar – it was the only constant that seemed steady and normal to him.
'What do I do now? Just what?" and he took another long drink. He was lost heart, mind, body and soul. And he simply couldn't bring himself to care.