Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even a little.
He comes home tired, less from the alcohol and the latest team outing than from the day he'd had before them. Cases like the one from today are bad enough without personal involvement, but he thinks that he can live for a very long time without ever having to connect the words "Steve" and "Japan" ever again. And if during that very long time his cousin only dates men that have received his written approval, then Chin Ho Kelly will be a contented man. For now, though, he is tired. And a little inebriated. But even with his senses partially dulled, when he steps into his front hallway, he can tell that something is terribly, inexplicably wrong. Though it's far from the first time that he's returned to a silent home, this feels different and he knows that needs to see his wife, now.
"Malia?"
Her name echoed through the hallway, mingling with the sound of his footsteps and returning without a reply. He yells again, toeing off his shoes. Even if Malia isn't home, it isn't worth risking her ire by tracking the rest of the island indoors. Silently, he moves into the kitchen, flicking the curtain to the side to make certain that her car is in the driveway. It is, alongside another familiar vehicle that he hadn't expected to see for at least a few more days.
"Kono?"
This time, Chin allows some of his confusion to seep into his tone, feeling somewhat more justified in being on edge. Before, he didn't have much to go on besides an uneasy gut feeling, but if Kono had willingly come to him after successfully dodging a talk about her newest ex-boyfriend, something was most definitely not right. He'd wanted to talk to her right after Noshimuri had been taken into custody, hoping that once he was no longer clouding her judgment, she'd be more likely to listen to reason. He hadn't counted on both Steve and Danny insisting that they all needed to go out to catch up. And apparently, the other men hadn't counted on Kono driving herself home, skipping the bar that the rest of them were headed to entirely.
Initially, McGarrett had wanted to call her, maybe playfully order her to come and reconnect with her boss, but Chin had rejected that idea, knowing that she needed some time on her own to think things through. The boss had agreed easily. Probably too easily. While Chin had tried to respect his cousin's privacy by keeping what he'd discovered about her relationship to himself, their coworkers seemed to already know that something was up. Maybe he should have called...
They're upstairs, he assures himself, pointedly ignoring the fact that the two woman didn't exactly bond on a regular basis. His skin prickles at the charged tension in the air. Still, he resists the urge to pull his service weapon and clear the lower floor.
The clicking of heels against the wooden staircase seems extraordinarily loud when it breaks the silence, but the gait is easily recognizable as Malia's, making it soothing all the same. So his wife is fine, that leaves...
"Is she upstairs?" he asks simply, already heading in that direction when Malia appears at the bottom of the staircase. Almost immediately, his wife is in front of him, hands on his chest, pushing him into the kitchen, where she must have been headed.
"Stop," she orders, voice low and dangerous, but not quite angry. "Do not talk to her, do not interrogate her, don't even go upstairs."
She wasn't upset with him when she left for work that morning, he's sure of it. So, whatever is going on with Kono must be bad enough to work her into a protective frenzy, which just so happens to be aimed at him.
"What's wrong?"
Her keys make even more noise than her heels on the staircase when they're thrown into her purse, but this time she's speaking, so the sound isn't as crude. "She's not hurt, or sick, or in danger. I won't be able to say the same for you if I come back and you've made it worse."
"So there is something to make worse?"
He's pretty sure that he didn't actually pull one over on her, but she stares at him for a minute anyway, eyebrows raised and taking deep breaths. Three short steps and she's practically on his toes, hands pulling his face down so that their eyes meet. "Do not," she says slowly, enunciating every syllable, "go up there."
Heels click, keys jangle, door slams. A few seconds go by as he stands, listening for the sound of her car starting up. He's going upstairs, they both know that, but he isn't stupid enough to do it while she's still in the driveway. Even after she pulls out, he takes the stairs slowly, stepping lightly over the ones that creak, as if they were alarms that would alert his wife to the fact that he was already breaking their understanding. It wasn't a promise, he assures himself. I never agreed to anything.
The guest room comes into view earlier than he would have liked. He doesn't really have a speech ready to fix whatever's wrong, but the long, wispy noises coming from the other side of the door are vaguely familiar and urge him into the room without knocking. "Kono?"
He was right. Her head is pillowed on her knees, turned sideways to accommodate the slow, heaving breaths that she's taking. There are no tear tracks on her face, but he hadn't expected there to be. If it was a crying matter, she would have gotten it out of her system way before coming to see Malia. Stubborn, he wants to say, even opens his mouth to do so. But instead-
"Have I been replaced?"
A quiet snort of laughter is muffled by her knees, though he's only half joking. He's not quite jealous, but it is impossible to ignore the fact that this time he is not her confidant. At least it's Malia this time, and Kono hasn't kept it locked up tight like she'd been doing more often recently. Delano, Noshimuri...he's lucky her mother hasn't demanded an explanation as to why the family member that spends the most time with Kono is just as oblivious as the rest of them when it comes to the secrets she keeps.
If it's okay to make jokes, it's probably okay to sit next to her, so he settles on the bed, careful to avoid contact that she doesn't initiate. He shouldn't have worried, because she's hesitantly leaning her head on his shoulder, releasing her legs and rubbing at the white marks that her grip left on them. And they sit. And wait. For what, he's not sure. Maybe Malia. Or for him to say something wise and inspiring. Or for her to say anything at all.
"Tell me," he says, finally. And no, he was most certainly not begging.
Kono hesitates, fidgets on his shoulder, and he wants to reassure her that he can fix it. Can't she remember that her older cousin can always fix it?
"I think I might be pregnant."
Shit. Maybe he can't always fix warning, his lungs deflate and won't refill to capacity, leaving him feeling winded. Years as a cop are the only things keeping the calm on his face, as every cell in his body itches for a few minutes alone in a cell with Hawaii's newest inmate.
"Noshimuri." Not a question, not a curse. Blank.
"Adam," she corrects fiercely, and he considers saying it again, both to drive home that Yakuza crime affiliates are not suitable companions and to see her eyes spark again, because so far, she's been practically unrecognizable. Small even.
Not powerful, self-reliant, clever Kono, who chases criminals and uncovers secrets, then goes home to surf twice as well as any professional that he's ever seen. Who sometimes needs to be reminded that malasadas and coffee aren't the makings of a food group. God, she's so young...
Wild, salt-soaked hair obscures her face from his view, and she's not saying anything, which is probably good because he needs a minute are two to prioritize his questions. How are you feeling or does Noshimuri have any life-threatening allergies that can be used against him?
"I'm gonna do it," she says softly, as if she thinks that he expected any differently. His little cousin is nothing if not determined. He sees a flash of a younger Kono, on the matted floor of their local gym, bangs in her eyes as she pushes, and pushes, and pushes harder to get her knee back in shape. You haven't been resting this, he remembers accusing, after prying her off the elliptical for the third time that month. How do you ever expect to get better?
Not by sitting on my ass with a brace on my knee.
Granted, he eventually talked her back into the brace, but the sentiment was there anyway. She was going to get her way, and nothing was going to stop her.
"Okay."
From her expression, she hadn't expected an okay, but that's too bad because he doesn't have anything else tucked up his sleeve. So for now, she'll have to take an okay and like it. His arm is numb, so he adjusts it until it's wrapped around her instead of being pinned to the headboard.
You're not alone.
So, yeah, he's already used that one, but it's still relevant and she smiles when he says it, and he can't really ask for anything more. She's still smiling when Malia comes home, meaning Chin will probably live to see another day. He's ejected from the room when his wife shoves a pharmacy bag into the younger woman's hands and isn't allowed back in even after Kono comes out of the guest bathroom, leaving him to pace, occasionally stealing glances at the two woman through the crack of the opened door.
Malia is humming something low and soothing under her breath, Kono's head tucked under her chin, his wife most likely drawing more comfort from the position than Kono herself. But they both seem content, so he paces and waits and doesn't think about the sacrifices that his cousin will have to make to raise a criminal's baby. Instead, he pictures Kono lying on the beach next to a smiling, doe-eyed child that will surf before it goes to Kindergarten and have the full protection of Hawaii Five-0 from the day it's born. And paces. And waits. He remembers their last family dinner, watching Kono exchange Eskimo kisses with someone's toddler, both relatives giggling as their head shaking reached a frenetic pace and their game became silly. And paces. And breathes. And waits.
Chin hears the timer, but no one comes to tell him anything, so he continues to pace. Malia hurries down the stairs again, and for a minute he wonders if he should go back in, because despite his wife's predictions, he hadn't made things worse last time. But soon enough, Malia's back, smiling and carrying a glass of wine that's close to spilling over.
Negative.
Long, easy breath.
Negative.
He's still tired, even more so now. But, Malia and Kono are both curled up in the guest bedroom, sipping on a shared glass of wine and talking lowly, like they'd been raised as sisters instead of strangers. Noshimuri hasn't been maimed for thinking that he has a right to lay a hand on Chin's favorite cousin, and he can be sure that Steve still has a few secrets jammed under his vest that have the potential to upset the balance of the universe. But, Chin has the two people who have never lost faith in him. Who are finally speaking to each other again, and to him, too. And he won't allow anything to take them away.
AN: Thought we needed a little pre-Delano bonding for the Kelly/Kalakaua clan. Also, if I never write anything from Chin's point of view again, it will be too soon.