John McGarrett's Boy
Tag to episode 1x11 ("Palekaiko")
Summary: Chin Ho Kelly always had trouble mentally connecting John's stories about his baby boy to the man who'd given him the chance to do a job he loved more than anything. He can see it now, but it is the last thing he wants.
A/N: I wrote this piece ages ago. Many thanks to KatieTaylor who gave some great advice and convinced me to post this story (and of course, for her great story "Vacation's Over", which brought me back to the Hawaii Five-0 fandom).
Chin Ho Kelly hadn't known Steve McGarrett personally until the day of John's funeral. Countless stories and many photos had given him a mental picture of what to expect, though. Of course, most of those stories were from a time before the McGarrett family was ripped apart, that fateful day, April 19th, 1992. It wasn't a surprise therefore that no matter how many glimpses he received, Chin was virtually incapable of connecting his former partner's beloved son to the grown man he worked for.
"Why would somebody steal my mother's accident report?"
A desperate, huffing sound, which resembled laughter but wasn't, escaped the younger man, betraying that he already knew the truth, but didn't want to acknowledge it yet. Desperate, blue eyes looked into his, begging Chin to say anything but the truth.
He couldn't do him that favour, no matter how much he wished it.
"You're saying that my mother was murdered?"
There he was. Of course, John's stories were never about a hurting young Steve, but in that moment, Steve's sad eyes made him look so young, Chin was able to see the baby boy John used to talk about.
He fervently wished he couldn't.
"Steve," Chin began, completely unsure how to continue. He was a cop! He'd brought bad news to family members so many times he lost count. However, seeing the pained expression on his boss' face, he was tongue-tied.
"I..." the older man tried, still unsure how to continue.
Then it was gone. The desperate look was replaced by something that couldn't be interpreted by a professional poker player. Even Danny, who had a name for all of Steve's "faces", would have trouble seeing through this perfectly cool, emotionless expression. This wasn't Steve's calculated, chilly gaze when they were chasing after their high-profile criminal of the week. This wasn't Steve's SEAL look when he was about to do something particularly dangerous.
In those moments, there was always another kind of emotion mingled in his gaze. Anger towards the man or woman they hunted. Warmth for his worried team members, mingled with an expression that spoke something along the lines of 'You are worried and I appreciate it. It's not necessary, though, I've done this before' mixed with various degrees of annoyance, depending on the force of Danny's protests.
The look he wore now was what Chin believed Steve would express after falling into enemy hands. Right before he was tortured.
And that was unacceptable.
"Steve, I know this is... difficult, but know this: You're not alone in this, okay? We'll help you. Danny, Kono and I. We'll get to the bottom of this. Together. We'll find out what really happened and we'll find out what your father knew and we'll make sure that whoever was responsible, will pay. You have my word." At first, his words were rushed, fearing his boss's mind might be too far gone to listen, then he spoke with vehemence and finally with resolve.
John McGarrett had been his senior, his mentor and former partner who was one of the few souls that refused to abandon him when everything went to hell. Steve McGarrett was the man who'd given him the opportunity to do what he did best and all he'd been obliged to do in return was answer a pointed question ("Did you take the money?") with a truthful answer consisting of one word.
"No."
Given his relationship with the father, it would have been logical for Chin to feel like some sort of older brother to the son of the man he respected so much. However, given that Steve had lived on the mainland with little to no contact to his father by then, said emotion never had opportunity to come about. When they'd finally met face to face, Chin met a highly trained, frighteningly intelligent and ruthlessly confident man who was, despite having little to no experience in being a cop and despite his age, his boss.
Seeing the mask dissolve into something very young and very vulnerable, Chin felt a surge of protectiveness usually reserved for his beloved cousin.
"Mahalo," Steve said softly and genuinely, a quiet smile appearing.
"Anytime," Chin replied, returning the gesture.