It is the calm and silent water that drowns a man.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five-0.

Well, I'm quite excited because I really put some time into my first fanfiction to make it special. Actually, this is only a short extract of it and if you enjoy it I will certainly post the following chapters :) I hope you'll have fun reading it and review please!

I'm sorry that it was so hard to read, I didn't know it would come out like this, like I said, it's my first fanfic :) So here's the edited chapter!

H50

The water was rising (or he was tiring of keeping his head above the water and his skull was slumping deeper and deeper) and he wondered how long it would take for the water to reach the part of his face his airways were positioned.

Maybe a few hours.

He had no idea how many hours already had passed, but he knew he was tired, hungry, cold and grumpy. Grumpy because of the attack. Was it an attack? Maybe it was just an accident. Accident.

Really? You think you are cuffed to a rock by accident? What have they done to me? Me? Me…? Who am I? he had wondered briefly before he snapped back into focus and his mind cleared once again.

Have they burned down your brains? No, not burned, that's not right, 's too cold for it, maybe they froze it down. It that even possible? Can somebody's brain be frozen away?

His teeth were chattering and he just wanted to hug his own body, which was, unfortunately, not possible in his current position with his hands chained away. He had almost lost the feeling in his feet and gradually, his whole legs started to become limp. Maybe I'm gonna freeze to death and not drown. He coughed, knowing there would be a high risk of catching pneumonia if he stayed any longer in this wet surrounding. Or hypothermia.

People die from hypothermia, don't they? Wherefrom do I know that? Wait… who am I again?

H50

As he regained consciousness, his first thought was what the hell…?

His stomach was protesting loudly, almost roaring, and he gulped as bile rose in his throat, forcing it down again because he knew he would choke on his own vomit. He was gagged. He moaned as the world was shaken, his already messed up head crashing onto the hard ground of something, causing the bile to climb up again. Slowly, he became aware he was in a car and the world hadn't been shaken, but the vehicle had probably hit a bump.

"Hey, look who's waking up there, Phil!" a man with a rusty-sounding, dark voice snarled and kicked the side of the man lying on the ground with his foot, after which he let out a groan again.

The other person, Phil, started sneering and added, "Our little princess," after letting out a burp (which, by the way, really stank).

If he hadn't been gagged, he would have told the man it was be very impolite to belch in front of other being living without apologizing. But he had been gagged and, to be honest, he didn't really care about someone's burp right then. He was just wondering where he was, who captured him and, the most important point for him - how the hell can I get out of this mess?

H50

Another wave crashed over him. He broke beyond the surface and drew in a deep breath, which he coughed out again, desperately trying not to pull at his ribs. His mind had cleared a little bit and the fog had settled down, at least for most of the time now. Recently, he had found out some of his ribs were broken, cracked and others 'only' badly bruised. It was really hard to swim like that, he was slipping under the surface not just for once. It was, well, multitasking.

Breathe. Kick your legs. Keep your head above the water. Breathe. Cough. Do not inhale fluids. Breathe. Don't move your left arm too far away from your body. Groan. Breathe. KICK! Let out a melodramatic breathe. Breathe in. Kick. Cough. Breathe.

He had started jolting at the handcuffs until his wrists were bloody and bruised and when he examined the cuffs, he saw it wasn't a complex cuff – it had only 4 screws which were holding the handcuffs together; actually it should be easy to open them. Actually. He had the idea to lean his feet on the wall and press himself against the hold, which was a little, but steady handle, until it should gave in (the handcuffs and the hold were connected by a chain). But it didn't, it didn't even move under his weight- not even a little.

Instead of being successful, he noticed something was hurting on the left side of his body. When he scanned his abdomen he recognized dark circles of bruises around his stomach and ribs. "Shit," he breathed out, coughing. Heeeey, you already knew that, huh? What have they done to me that's making me so damn confused? … I hate, hate, hate concussions. He sniffed, knowing he had to create an idea to escape- before even the last of his control would be drowned like a fish in the sea. He chuckled, drowned like a fish in the sea. I didn't know fishes could drown.

He shook his head, seconds later knowing that was a bad idea when his vision blacked out a moment. He breathed through the pain and after a few minutes he was inhaling normally again. It was getting dark outside, the sun set and he already saw the stars reflecting in the waves.

He could see it, the end of the cave, he could almost 'touch' it – he and the freedom were only separated by a few feet. That's not going to make you any happier. What would his friends do now? Watching TV? Surfing? Hell- why didn't he just thought of that earlier? What if the cave was next to a beach? Well, it's almost nighttime, you dumbass. But wait- aren't there always some crazy people enjoying a little swim in the night?

"Help," he attempted, but all what came out was a squeaky voice, one he never had heard before and he was ashamed of. He cleared his throat and made another try. "HELP!" Ahhh, lot's of better. "SOMEBODY HELP!" He cried until his voice was strained, but nobody replied, his own scream's echo was the only thing answering him.

H50

"Phil, be a little more careful with him, we need our little Barbie," the man with the darker voice growled, though couldn't help but chuckle when he watched his friend throwing the captured into a corner, causing a loud moan from him.

"Well, let's free him from the blindfold and the gag, huh?" Phil nodded and went over to the man on the floor, pulling the things roughly out of his face. "You sick son of a..." He was trailed off by a foot slamming into his stomach, causing him to double over in coughing. After it subsided, he looked up through watery eyes, teeth gritted, observing the two laughing men.

They were wearing masks, those creepy Halloween masks people were putting on to scare the shit out of you, and he shivered at their appearance. "You're just sick," he managed, but then leaned forward to spit out the contents of his stomach in a noisy gulp. The guys were making a face when the smell hit their nose. The imprisoned himself turned up his nose at the stench, feeling like being sick again.

The dark sounding man saw the uneasiness and said, "you know, if you'll be cooperative we could think about cleaning up this place."

"Go. To. Hell."

"Lovely. So," the man clasped his hands together, "your name is?" The injured man didn't dare to open his mouth (he wouldn't have anyway) because he probably would throw up again and he wasn't so hot on having more puke to admire. "He asked you about your name," Phil said aggressively.

He chose to play dumb and to let nothing leave his lips.

"Look, Phil, he's a big head. Too bad for you," he turned to face the fallen and took his head between his thumb and fingers, squeezing his lips, "that we already know your name. What sort of kidnappers would we be if we wouldn't, huh?" He let the wounded drop again, his head down to the ground.

"Oh, and sorry for forgetting to invite you to come with us voluntarily in first place, you probably could have saved that bump on your head. Your ride could have been more relaxing for you, too, but now that you're already here- welcome to our, and now yours, too, modest home, Detective Danny Williams."

H50

Cold. It was so damn cold. Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett tried to close his blue-tinged lips to avoid his teeth clattering out of it.

They really should hurry up if they want me back living and not like as icicle.

A wave collided with him and he was ducked under water for what seemed like the thousandth time this hour. He inhaled deeply when he was above the water again, he was really getting tired of this. But this was not how Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett would die. Never.

Come on, Steve, wake up the SEAL in you and get the hell out of here.

He leaned back against the hole's wall when suddenly something in his nose tickled and he rose up his nose, raised his head and let out a loud sneeze, which threw him against the wall of rocks. His vision went black for a few seconds, Steve's stomach flip-flopped and he retched into the water in front of him, barely missing his body (it really wasn't easy to stay over the water when you are puking and you have to move your almost limp legs further).

Looks like somebody got a concussion aaaand a cold? I thought a SEAL wouldn't get sick, huh? screamed a familiar voice in his head, sounding a lot like Danny.

Coughing into the blue, his vision returned, a bit foggy and the world was swaying, his head buzzing. As he watched his vomit floating away, he silently wished it wouldn't be tossed back at him with the next wave. Another sneeze exploded, his headache worsened with it and after all his entire nose was stuffed and his brains jam. The SEAL closed his eyes and leaned back on the wall, his mind unconsciously drifting to the day he had been kidnapped.

"No, I won't, Danno. I'll go home and then straight to bed," Steve croaked and interrupted his highly amusing partner, who couldn't believe what he just heard.

He himself wasn't feeling too well the last days, but it was nothing. He couldn't dwell on being sick and so he just pushed on with Tylenol and cough drops, and even though NyQuil sounded like paradise it would be knocking him out and he couldn't afford sleeping right then. But the scumbag was caught now and he was finally able to pass out on the couch what he hadn't done four days.

"Wha… what?! Who are you and what have you done with my partner? I mean- you're not going for a swim or so? Nothing like that crazy SEAL shit?" "Danny, you know I'm going to…" Danny let out a breath he had, eyes wide open, held in. "Whoa, you never do this again, I almost thought you maybe have been abducted by aliens and they had made something experimentally with your brains. Not that there's much to find in your head. " Steve shook his head, sniffling. "You're really entertaining, you know?" "I'm entertaining? I'm entertaining? YOU are entertaining, believe me, my friend, if anybody decides to make a daily soap out of your life his channel would have the greatest rate of audience pursuing your big stunts and screaming like hell when you have been tracked down by a perp just to see you beat him down the next moment, your shiny, dark hair flying in the wind and your biceps looking strained. The girls would faint like they do when Justin Bieber's on stage. Stop laughing, believe me, you'd be the star of the year."

When something cold hit his face he needed a few seconds to orientate, blinking irritated when he found himself still handcuffed in the cave.

God, he was so very tired. He couldn't remember ever feeling so tired in his whole life. The Navy was nothing in comparison to this. Okay, that surely was an exaggeration, he decided. But when he thought of it… he really hadn't had a good night's sleep since four (or five?) days. A few naps in between, but nothing more than six hours in total.

With that contemplation swirling around his concussed head, he slumped against the rocks, exhaustion finally winning.

H50

His head was pounding when he awoke. Danny cracked his eyes, seeing a bare, gray room in front of him. Wanting to rub his eyes, he tried to draw his hands, but only shook at his strings.

What the…?

Then everything came back in one big hit, he felt overwhelmed with all the information and almost threw up.

The short cop had the vague memory he had been hit several times into his best part, other parts and into his face for other million times before the bad men left him alone. He felt his left eye swelling shut and he wet his split lips with the moisture left in his mouth.

Danny knew he had to get out of this here and now.

There was just that one little problem. He didn't have the slightest idea how he could put that into action.

So he decided to investigate his own situation. A gash in his face was still bleeding, trailing down the side of his head- by the way, he was kind of lightheaded, maybe there were too many hits to it than he could have used. Not that he could have used it anyway. He, then, tried to figure out why somebody possibly would capture him. Did he anything wrong? Okay, he was a cop, in some people eyes everything he did was wrong.

But what if it is one of Steve's crazy friends again? Okay, that's not logical. McGarrett isn't even here. That moron probably enjoying a beer right now. And what would they want to do with you? They couldn't do anything with me… Shit. Maybe they want to use me as bait. Bait… they could use a chicken as bait. They're so much tastier than me. Did I ever ask McGarrett if he like chicken? Maybe he's sleeping out his cold. Danny felt the need to laugh at that. Definitely he is not doing this, maybe he's chasing a man down. Yeah, sounds like the Steve i know. Maybe he's eve picking up chicks with his six-pack? And then wandered his muddled mind back to the day of happening, too.

"I warn you, if you gonna call me tonight, I WILL rip you apart with my bare hands, I promise," Danny threatened his partner, his index finger sticking out in a gesture of warning.

"Hell, Danny, you really seem menacing with that look on you face. Like a little gnome." He burst out in laughter (it was more like a cough, but Danny was sure he wanted to laugh) with Danny's face.

He knew that Steve was sick, he knew it the minute he came into the office six days ago. The pale SEAL was sniffling, coughing, sneezing and looking like absolute shit with the heavy, gray bags under his blood-shot eyes, and, not to be forgotten, he came in late.

The Jersey had of course tried to send him home, but it was useless because they were in the middle of a cruel case and they just had to catch that asshole before he could touch another kid's head and even though he hated to admit it, Steve had been right when he said they would need every uniform they could get and that, unfortunately, included that snuffling-bug-monster next to him.

They got the perp and everything went well, Danny could punch that son of a bitch in the face and somewhere in the area of the groin and now, everybody could go home, take a shower and catch up the lack of sleep.

"Ha-ha, you think you're witty, don't ya? I'm really sorry to disappoint you, babe, but you're not even remotely funny." He stepped into his Camaro and waited for Steve to join him- he himself was driving his car that time and if that wasn't indicating how shitty his partner was feeling the closing of his eyes after he had slipped into the passenger seat was.

"Seatbelt," ordered Danny and the brunette buckled it up as he was told to do.

Steve used the back of his hand to rub over his nose and sniffled, turning his head to the window to lean it upon it. He stifled a cough that dared to pass his lips with a forceful blow and swallowed dryly.

"Water?" he simply asked and he heard his partner rummaging through something and then a bottle was thrown into his lap, startling the SEAL. He nodded his thanks, unscrewed the cap and took a long pull, the lukewarm liquid running down his sore throat, calming it. Just as he wanted to give it back to Danny the Detective said, "you can have it if you want. No need to spread your germs any further."

"I've no germs, Danny. You're overreacting. I'm perfectly fi-fi-achump!" He swirled his head around to sneeze in the nook of his arm.

"I… What? I'm overreacting? You're saying you'd have no germs and then you share them with me by sneezing the next moment and I'M OVERREACTING? Are you serious? I'm not the one who's looking like he could collapse right in front of me…" "You haven't looked in the mirror, have you?" "…and I will NOT drag your big ass out of this car if you do so because you, Super SEAL, you're sick and I told you so and you didn't listen to me," he kept on, ignoring his partner's answer totally.

Silence.

"Stop pouting, Rambo." "'m not poutin', Danno." Steve's head was once again resting against the cool window. "Uh-huh and I'm Obama. You know, you somehow look adorable so quiet." "Nob'dy can look quiet." A few seconds later he opened his eyes and faced Danny.

"And I should definitely not look adorable t' ya."

He settled back into the passenger seat and let his head fall back onto the headrest. Steve was cold now, shivering and hugging his own body. The cough somehow managed to pass his sealed lips and hacking shook his body.

"Cover your mouth, damn it, what's so freakin' difficult about it? Not only that you're the whole time a menace to me by just being you, but you're just spreading all your tiny, evil germs in my car – the car I love and I'm sitting in! So could you be so nice… are you even listening to me?"

Danny threw a glance from the road to the person slumped in the seat next to him. "Steve?"

Nothing.

"Steven?" He waited a moment and eyed his partner.

"He just fell asleep while I was talking to him?" Sticking out his lip, he turned his attention back to the street in front of him.

The door swung open and a thin man, more exactly a boy, appeared in his sight, wearing a mask that was just covering his upper face, his nose and his mouth were open to watch. The other men he saw yesterday weren't present, only that boy, maybe in his early twenties.

"Hello, Detective," he greeted the beaten Danny, who was drifting away again.

The voice is so soft and calm, soothing. I like that. Examining the body and the voice, he decided to name him David. It's a little nice David, not so bad as the guys yesterday. Was it yesterday? What day is today? Is it weekend? No, no wait… it was Thursday the day I had been taken. I think it was Thursday at least. Maybe not, maybe…

"Detective! I asked you something!" He was pulled out of his rather puzzled thoughts forcefully as 'little nice David' hold Danny up on his tie.

Bad David, baaaaaaaaad David!

"I'm… not… I… need... air!" the Jersey croaked when the tie enclosed his throat and carved into his skin. The man let go of him quickly after he noticed he had been a bit rough, clearing his throat.

"How did you sleep?" he asked a bit sheepishly now, like a whole different person. "I bet better than you have," came the biting answer from the downed cop, "what do you want from me?" Danny wasn't in the mood to play any games with anybody.

"Let's call it revenge," the man said smugly (Danny was sure the boy wanted to appear menacing), considering the dirt beyond his fingernails. The way he looked Danny was sure he would…

Oh god! He really did it!

The man had started picking at them with his mouth. Sickening David.

"What for?" he finally choked out, still watching disgusted the happening.

"You will found out soon enough, Detective, and be sure, you will regret what you and your partner did."

The word 'partner' hit him hard. Steve? What the hell?! If that scumbag touched a hair on his head…Oh god, he was in the car with you, in the car!

"What partner?" he tried to get as much information out of that man as he could, but he had to be clever. "Ah, c'mon, that gorilla of yours, that big guy, dark hair, muscles, tattoos. Was with you when we took you both." Steve. That was Steve. He felt the anger in his soul increase, knowing he would explode anytime soon. But first he had to think clear, to know more about his friend's situation.

"I don't like him, anyway," he said flatly, no emotions passing his cracked lips. The man's eyes finally darted up, staring into Danny's blues, maybe searching for any feeling, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"You don't like him? You can't say you don't like him. He's your friend." "Nobody has ever said that." "But, but," the man stuttered, not knowing what to answer as he observed the emotionless face, "but I saw you sharing a drink with him!"

Ha, we've got our puzzled David. And stalker David.

"I watched you showing him your little girl and…" Gracie?! Has he just mentioned HIS Gracie? That guy was dead.

"…I saw your expressions. You like him, I know it! You were in the car with him, driving around, I saw you!" He sounded despaired and Danny almost chuckled because he didn't know it would be so easy to put him out conception. Now, that's a rookie by book!

"No, it was just, you know, it was more like pretending. I never liked him." Sorry, sorry, sorry Steve. "He's stubborn, hell, he's a big-head, the biggest stubborn boss the world knows and he's just such a smartass, he's putting himself into danger for nothing and I would love to punch him into his face the most of the day. The other part of it I just hope he doesn't get me, too, killed and well, he's an asshole." It was strange how easily this words flooded out of him, it wasn't like it wasn't at least a bit true, right?

"But I bet you don't want him getting killed!" the boy called out. Danny swallowed, feeling a lump rise in his throat. "Maybe, maybe not. It's … I don't care." "He's drowning right now."

Drowning? Aquaman? Never. No that won't be possible… Will it? No, not Steve.

"You know, he definitely wasn't looking too good when I saw him the last time," David casted a glance at his watch, "so he's probably taking in his very last breathes. My friend's are watching him on a screen right now. I watched him, too, and he is dying like a fish on land, just that he's a man in water. And I thought SEALs were like fishes." He let out a loud laughter. "How wrong I was."

Sick, sick, sick, more than sick ever could describe, sick David!

Danny just couldn't hold back his emotions anymore, he just couldn't. That guy was nauseating. "You SON OF A BITCH, you are SICK! How could you even dare to touch MY PARTNER? HOW COULD YOU DARE? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" he barked at the boy, shaking his strings roughly to get free. The boy watched in amusement, loving to finally see some feelings of the man.

"We threw him into the water, cuffed him to a rock and left him in a black, dark hole he'll never leave. Never." He laughed conceitedly.

What's that for a psycho? He's changing his mood every five minutes, from angry to nice, from disgusting to dumb to confused to overenthusiastic and then to absolutely abnormal. That guy either has dissociative identity disorder or he has other problems.

After finishing his inner monologue, he glimpsed back to the man's face… mask. "If he dies, I will kill you. I promise you, I will kill you," he hissed darkly, narrowing his eyes, hoping to seem threatening despite his oh-so-menacing state of body.

Slouched back into his chair, he observed the man wandering through the room, rotating his arms as if he needed a massage.

Oh god, Danny, you're caring about the silliest things. Anyhow, I would need a massage more than him, I'm mentally and physically hurt. Oh GOD, SHUT UP! he instructed himself.

"Nice promise, I will come back to it sooner or later," he stopped, looking at his watch and then continued, "but I have to go now anyway. We'll see each other again, I promise."

Before he left, though, he didn't want to miss the opportunity to kick the cop by himself and booted Danny in his upper body part, well knowing he must have cracked a rib as Danny let out a piercing screech.

"Good night, detective," he said, moving his slim body out of the stinking room.

Holy shit, he broke my ribcage! And why in hell's name is everybody using the word 'detective' in a way it could be an insult?